#I guess you could call it a rewrite au if you wanted

[doodle17]

Almost finished with Dark Revival (im not prepared for the final boss Wilson gonna beat my ass). I'll amdit playing it is a way different experience than watching. Definitely much more entertaining and terrifying! Still wouldn't call it a horror though... Kind of like the first game, I think they lean more on the thriller side of things. Which is good because I always preferred thrillers over horror anyways :)

I gotta admit, the first 3 chapters and the first half of 4 were astounding, but the rest? Honestly feels like such wasted potential... (the ending was pretty rad tho I will not lie) Seriously, why would they have us go to CHAPTER ONE OF INK MACHINE and have it be revealed that Henry ISNT Audrey's dad??? Come onnnnn man they should've let me make the lore I have way better ideas

On the bright side though, my yearly Bendy Binge(tm) has made me take a look at an old fic I've wanted to work on but haven't had the motivation for.

[millerscoffee]

Hello!! 🤍 I was wondering if you could write something where Joel is the reader’s college professor, and then Prof. Miller INSISTS that reader comes over to his home for tutoring assistance, (because of failed tests or bad essays), and then finally coaxes her into letting him have his way with her.

hi nonnie! here it is! i hope you enjoy 💖

extra credit

6.2k | joel miller x afab!reader (professor!joel au)

rating: 18+ MDNI

warning: professor!joel au, age gap (joel is 46, reader is 21), soft!dom joel, pining, consensual sex, pet names (darlin', doll, baby), oral (f receiving), face riding, fingering, piv (unprotected, wrap it folks), squirting, joel spitting over the reader's ass for 0.5 seconds (OOPS IDK???), a pretty dress with easy access, hints of after care, spoiler: honestly prof. miller could've told reader to just do the paper in a different format but – that's the point 🤭

When you picked your major, English was a necessary credit needed to achieve your goals.  It wasn’t your strong suit, but you weren’t one to quit just because you were bad at it.  So far you were coasting through, getting a mix of good and bad grades in your English Lit class when the last essay before finals was presented.

Among the crowd in Professor Miller’s lecture hall, you typically sat in the front.  He hands out papers, hovering by your desk.  Giving you a look of disapproval, he places the grade face down.  You peel the pages in anticipation, a sense of dread falling over you when you scan the big, red mark of failings.  “Shit,” you say to yourself.  That was it.  That was the grade that was the defining factor of whether or not you had to retake this course.  You use the side of your hand to wipe sneaky tears in falling.  You failed.  Doing your best to keep it together, you’re not sure you even heard the rest of the lecture from the possibilities running through your mind.  What were you to do?  How would you recover?

Class was over before you knew it.  The sounds of bags zipping and feet stepping, you stayed seated until you were able to look over to Professor Miller.  Dressed in black slacks, a brown button-up with leather shoes.  His hair was slick, the slightest bit of salt and pepper patched at his sideburns.  He looked like he had it all figured out, and that struck a nerve.  A feeling of jealousy that he knew what he was doing, and you obviously did not.

Professor Miller calls your name when the class is emptied, and you sniffle, standing up to straighten your skirt.  Your manicured nails pick up your essay as you walk over in an attempt to hand it to him.  “I guess you want this back,” you hold your full bottom lip between your teeth.

“Did you read the material?”  Professor Miller inquires, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.  His voice is so dark and honied in comparison to his scowl.  Proving not to judge a book by its cover.  The irony.

“Well, I did, but… I struggle with this stuff.  Predicates and imagery?  I’d rather be learning about biology.  But I need this course, you know.  And I…,” you swallow hard.  God, the last thing you want is to embarrass yourself in front of your teacher.  He doesn’t know you, out of the hundreds of people he teaches – how could he possibly even remember your name?

“Hey,”  Professor Miller takes his glasses off, putting them on the table.  He looks as concerned as you are over it and crosses his arms.  Keeps his distance.  “It happens, you know.  There are things we can do to accommodate.  You’re very bright, I’d hate to see you fail.  You have options.  I can’t let you rewrite the paper, but I could tutor you for your final.  Another option is getting a student tutor, but it’s rare.  You know the workload of this university.  Not a lot of people are willing to sacrifice their precious time.”

“And you are?”  You look up at him with grateful, bright eyes and he loves it.  The praise just from your stare alone is cause for him to clear his throat.

“Listen, for someone like you, I believe it is important to help.  You just need a little more time understanding what you’re doing, is all.  I’m not in my office for the rest of the weekend, though.  You’d have to come by my house…,”  he watches those pretty eyes widen again, and that makes a smirk fall over his greying features, “if that’s okay, of course.  If it’s not, we could work something else out.”

You think about it.  You’ve never had a teacher invite you over, much less someone who looked the way he did.  Though, that was neither here nor there.  His lips formed words you couldn’t even pay attention half the time in hearing.  Maybe that was part of the reason why you were failing in the first place.  But you needed to pass, and if he could help you – and was so kind enough to do it in the first place, you should jump at the first opportunity.

“Okay.  Is there a particular time you’d like me to be there?”

“Are you busy tonight?”

What the fuck. That makes your heart race.  Tonight?  Tonight?!  Ton–

“Tonight… tonight is good.”  How did you even form the words?

“Perfect,” he started, bending down to write his address on a sticky note – his cologne wafts in your direction, and you clamp your legs shut reflexively.  “Here’s my address.  7 o’clock.”

“Seven.  Okay… thank you, Professor Miller.”

“Please, call me Joel.”  His teeth gleamed in a smile, and his personality shined through it.

A personality you didn’t get to see too often from your position behind a desk.

Shit.

---

According to your phone, he didn’t live very far from campus, and you were able to walk to his house without breaking too much of a sweat.  You decided on a black dress, although it was a casual one, that paired nicely with your sneakers.  It had buttons down the front with a relaxed collar.  Your bag slung over your shoulder when you knocked on his door, a nervousness fluttering in your stomach.  It was such a weird thing, meeting your professor in his home.  Much less having him request you call him by his first name.

Your knees all but buckled when you saw him on the other side of the door.

He looks… young in his jeans.  His t-shirt stretched over the broadness of his shoulders, but it’s still loose enough that it doesn’t look ill-fitted.  His stomach, soft at the bottom.  You flash him a smile, but internally you’re reeling over how casual he looks.  You’d never seen him like this, not even during those school meetings that were informal.

“Hey, you,” he’s bright, too.  Charismatic as he invites you into his home.  Takes your bag, lets you take your shoes off until you’re in your socks.  His words hit your stomach, how easy it is for him to talk to you like you’re the brightest sunflower.  What’d you even do to deserve it?

“Hi, Prof– uh, Joel,” you titter, taking in the curated decor of his home.  It was sophisticated, yet a little cheesy at the same time.  His alumni cover his walls and a mix of pictures.  Some with a couple of young girls you assumed were his children.  He has children, you swallow.

“Wasn’t too hard to find this place, right?  When I moved here, I wanted to make sure I wasn’t too far – not much of a mornin’ person,” Joel laughs and you do, too.  Fuck, this feels so easy.  But it’s nothing – it’s nothing.

What you don’t pick up on right away is his open body language.  He places your bag on his couch and you follow him like a puppy – he likes that.  You look so soft under the sienna hue of his lights, your hair falling into place naturally.  Plump and ripe for the taking.  Of course, he meant it when he said he’d tutor you, but the air got thick the moment the door was shut behind the two of you.  What were you doing to him?

Joel’s large frame walks over to his bar cart, turning on his heel to face you, “Interested?”

“Huh?” You blink and he laughs again at your deer caught in the headlights expression.  You’re cute.

“Do you drink?”

“Oh, uh… water would be nice.”

“Water it is,” Joel’s pleasant, gesturing his hand for you to follow him.  And you do – that puppy he was coming to know, right to his kitchen.  You study the marble countertops, the farmhouse style kitchen sink.

“So, tutoring,” he starts, taking a glass from the cupboard, he fills it with filtered water before handing it to you – you thank him with a nod, “I was thinking we could look at your paper, and then go over how to fix things in the future?”  When you take the water from him, your fingers graze.  The first sign of contact, your head continues to nod unthinkingly, but all that scorches your mind is how his skin feels.

“That sounds good,” you overcompensate, shoving the ideas from your mind.  He was your teacher, and it was easy to get back into the mode of why you were here.

Joel’s expression doesn’t change much, still the same grin with hooded eyes and wrinkles at his forehead.  The two lines between his brow.  “Alright, well I have it on the coffee table.  Let’s get settled on the couch, and we’ll get started, okay?”

So you agree.  You take your glass of water and follow him back to the couch where everything was set up – your paper, his laptop.  All of the correction marks in your face as you sit down.  You take another sip of water before placing it down on the coaster.  You dread it, you really do.  Going over your failures?  You scrunch your nose up to yourself, but Joel notices when you’re both settled on the cushions.

“You know, Voltaire said, ‘perfect is the enemy of good’,”  Joel bends his knee on the couch, thigh pressing into the cushion to turn to you and it causes the couch to shift.  The quote makes you giggle a little to yourself, and you shake your head.  “What?” His eyebrow quirks in curiosity.

“Voltaire also popularised the story of Newton’s apple, doesn’t make it true.”

“Huh…,” Joel trailed off, keeping his eye on you – his tongue skating over his bottom lip in thought.  You were so quick all he could really do was laugh, and that made your shoulders relax.  Makes you feel more in control and comfortable to laugh at yourself.  “You got an answer for everything?”

“Not everything.  See this,” you pick up your paper, thumbing over the ink of corrections the man on the couch made and you shrug, “I don’t really understand why this got marked wrong.”  Joel’s gaze flashes over your mouth when your teeth press into the plushness of your bottom lip – he should be given some damn award for having so much self control around you.

“Wrong format.  This citation works for your research papers, right?”  He nods with you before leaning in closer, that damn cologne coming back in full force just like earlier in the day.  You all but freeze when his warm touch graces you again – this time, fingers tracing over where you’re holding the paper.  “Oh,” your voice is soft, a bit of disappointment pangs at your ribs.  You were so busy you didn’t even realise that was the majority of the issues you had.

“So… it’s not really what I wrote, it’s how I wrote it?  You asked if I read the material?”

“Exactly.  If you read the syllabus, you’d see the required format.  Listen, there are some ways for extra credit, I do think this is salvageable.”

You suddenly feel silly.

You did all that work, Professor Miller was kind enough to let you into his home, and it was all for some redundant formatting.  An open palm curls over your chin as you look at the paper in deep contemplation.

“I really fucked up,” you say, hushed in the space.

“You didn’t fuck anything up,” you manage an exhale of amusement at the sound of your teacher curse.  You shift your gaze to look at him.  The curls at the nape of his neck, the way his t-shirt dropped enough so you could see his neck, his chest.  The freckles that splayed over his aged skin.  “You just needed someone to tell you what to do.”

That was the loaded statement.  And a pointed one, it seems.  Someone to tell you what to do.  And Joel wanted to be that person?  Your eyebrows raise for a flash, thumbing over the paper.

“That would be too easy,” you scratch at your neck idly before going for the glass of water, sipping in contemplation. “...I mean, I should’ve known better.”

Joel takes the glass from you, offering himself a sip of your water and it stuns you speechless, doing your best not to convey it.  Maybe he did that just because this was his house.  That must’ve been it.  He was comfortable, but goddamn – the eye contact he gave you when he swallowed the liquid.

It felt intentional.

He watches your features, vague as they were, in what to do next.  He honestly wasn’t so sure what he was doing either.  What?  I know how to give you extra credit, sweetheart.  Too forward, too boastful, too… cheap.  You deserved better than that.  He saw you in class, how hard you were on yourself.  He talked to your other teachers, how well you were doing in your other classes.  He felt for you.  And he was a bit lost in your eyes.  You were all too pretty, too brilliant to be dimmed down to a fuck for extra credit.  Joel could see that.  He wasn’t even sure what he was thinking, you had him distracted.  You threw him off without even trying.  The plight within him grew stronger as he handed back the glass.

“You’re too hard on yourself,” Joel straightens up, his hand cups over your forearm in a way that’s understanding, but also makes goosebumps rise.  You look down to see where you connect and he pulls away slightly.  “Sorry, I–,” “No, it’s okay,” you agree, “It’s okay.  You’re right.”

“It’s just, I see hundreds of bright, beautiful young people every year, but none of them have stood out to me like you.”  He can’t believe the words that are coming out of his mouth.  The candor, the nerve.  A filthy old man, that’s all he was in the eyes of someone as sweet and innocent as you were.  Even if you happened to be experienced – god, what was he thinking?!

Joel clears his throat, shifting a bit in his seat, but he sees the way your lips part, but your eyes don’t show an ounce of shock or distain.  They look soft, and… willing.  You know that is because the pull at your core feels too strong to think of anything else.  You look down at his left hand, making sure you’re not dreaming.  He’s not married?  You’d casually look at his hands from time to time during class and ignored the ache it gave you, but this?  So close?  Backed by the glow of his house?  It was so different from the boys you were used to.  In their dorms or disgusting apartments.  It smelled as nice as it looked.  You realise you’re not speaking, but the way you lean into him says more than you really ever could.

“I don’t know what to say,” shyly, you touch your knuckles to your cheek, “you should teach the guys that go here how to chat with someone.”

It’s a mutter, but not to yourself.  You drink one more mouthful of what you were offered before putting it back on the coaster.  Honestly, any distraction was welcome to defer from the ever-present density in the room.

“Those guys don’t know what they’re talkin’ about anyway.  I know I didn’t at that age.”

There.  The topic right in front of both of your faces.

“How old at you, anyway?”  You inquire, thumb mindlessly circling over your knee.  Joel tracks it, licking over his lips as he answers.  “Forty-six.  You?”

“Twenty-one.”

Fuck.  Fuck fuck fuck.

There’s this standstill, as if you’re both in the air together looking at each other in slow motion.  How will this land?  What are you both even doing here like this?

“I’m sure your boyfriend takes good care of you,” Joel’s eyes, round and bright brown, get lost in yours – the way your breath hitches, the shift of your thighs on his sofa.  He wondered what you tasted like, what sounds you make when these boys who don’t know what they’re doing with their tongue attempt to eat you out.  Do you fake it?  Do you give it to them straight?  Neither of you had a drink from that bar cart in the corner of the room, but somehow you’ve become closer – and more intoxicated.

“Don’t have one,” you respond softly, orbs flickering to the set of plush lips that grow more red the longer you let the tension build, “what about you?  N-no partner?”

Your attempt in confidence wavering the longer he stares at you.  It’s like staring back into the sun and you have your brows knit together until the tug of muscle makes your forehead hurt – smoothing them apart with the twitch of muscle fibers.

“No partner,” Joel’s hand settles on your thigh and you can’t hold it back; you gasp.  But you do something he doesn’t anticipate, or well, you don’t do something: you don’t pull away.

How did you two get to the topic, anyhow?

How did you end up straddling his lap, for that matter?

It’s within six eager seconds that his hand, hot and rough, touches your soft skin, and you – green, you – fervent, throw all inhibitions aside and lunge.  It’s more fluid than you realise, and his hands (both now) grip the backs of your bare thighs and you whimper at the sensation of him squeezing you.  Your wetness against your cotton panties grows from the kneading alone.  No, absolutely not, the boys back in the dorms didn’t know how to do this.

It takes an even shorter time for your mouths to meet.  He’s first to kiss, and he tastes like coffee and his dinner, and the faintness of a cigarette – maybe early in the day?  You couldn’t tell, your head was swimming too deep in now to come back from.

And although his calloused fingers roll patterns into your soft skin, he’s just as willing.  Just as desireful and you can feel it beg to be set free at the seam of his jeans.  His tongue skirts against yours, hips rolling up the second yours tempt to roll down; causing you both to moan in each other’s mouths.

It gets feverish after that.  All teeth, tongue, bite.

You don’t want to stop, you don’t want to take a moment to breathe because fuck, that could stop things.  That could make him realise what is happening.

But that only is another item to your list of naivety.

Because Joel, he’s ready.  His masculine arms wrap around your frame to lift you up just enough so he can get out of his fucking jeans that he now regrets wearing.  Shoulda been wearin’ sweats, but it’s effortless… eventually.  He hurriedly pushes the thick fabric down until they hit at his thighs and you’re pushed down onto his boxers that – holy fucking shit – leave nothing to the imagination.  “Joel, J-,” you pant between kisses, fingernails digging into the base of his neck, he pauses.  Pulls away, gets a good look at your face.

“Y’want this?” And goddamn, you can’t see yourself, but you imagine you look just as fucked out as he does.  On the cusp of every little fantasy he’s had about you from the moment you sat down behind that desk.

“I want this,” you repeat.  You weren’t sure exactly when the nerves subsided, maybe because all of the blood is now rushed at the apex of your thighs, but you mean it.

You want this.  You want Professor Miller.

“You got me,” his breath dances over your lips before guiding you back a bit, “here… I’m going to lie back, I want you to– I’ll show you.”  Your lips quirk up at the fact he’s so flushed he can’t even finish his sentence.

But that soon turns to you flushing when you realise his request.  “I – what?”

“No?”  Joel sits up on his elbows, looking over to you and you’re worried you’ve killed the mood.  It’s just, straddling his face?  Blood rushes to your cheeks.

“I’ve never done that… What if it’s bad?”  His eyes, reassuring, but a deep shade of black now beckons you.

“Darlin’, I think you’ll be a natural.  But I can teach you, if that’s what you want.”

You swallow, straddling his knees somewhere at the bottom of the couch and you think about it.

Joel, on the other hand, was living in a fantasy of teaching you things in and out of school.  Showing you how to make yourself feel good on his mouth – make you forget all about the essay that caused you grief today.  He leans over, pushing it under the couch out of view for good measure.

“Okay,” you agree, though nerves still flood you.  “Okay, you wanna take your panties off?”  You lick your lips at that, biting back another whimper that brought you to this predicament in the first place.  And you did – you wanted nothing more than to slip your underwear off and give into your pleasures.  His voice was deep, graveled with the prospect of him fucking you senseless on his couch and who were you to deny him that?

Who were you to deny yourself that, more importantly.

“Yeah,” doing as you say, you slip off your lace-trimmed undies and abandon them somewhere on your Professor’s floor.  “Fuck,” you mutter.  This was naughty.

“Already so good for me,” you weren’t even sure that Joel’s voice could get deeper, or more inviting, but it does.  You bite your lip and oblige when he pats his chest.  Going over to him, you straddle just above his broad shoulders, and he’s almost out of view with him like this – somehow making it easier to just feel what he could do to you.

Joel on the other hand?  All he can do is see the outline of your glistening core from the shadowed tent you’ve made of your dress and his groans are muffled slightly from the fabric, “Fuckin’ Christ,” he wants to devour you, but he takes his time instead.

Peppers kisses along your thighs that make you claw the armrest, causes you shiver at the contact and you can’t believe this is happening.  “J-Joel,” you hesitate, but his hands are wrapped around your hips now, fingers digging into the breadth of your ass.

“Sit.”  Joel commands.

Oh, fuck.

You’re almost certain you’ll break skin at your lips from biting down so hard, but you do as you’re told.  Anchoring down, it’s subtle at first – the brushing of his facial hair against your folds, his chin prying you apart.  Then, it’s incredibly palpable.  His lips are the first thing you feel as they press and kiss over your middle and as you shudder it only makes your muscles sink deeper on him.  You’re the first to moan, and then Joel, and his mouth is open when he invites you inside it.

“Oh, my god,” thighs shaking, Joel flattens his tongue under the hood of your clit, a body part you were certain hadn’t been touched by anyone else but yourself.  There was no time to compare, the white hot pleasure coursed through your veins and he took his time with it, too.  Made sure he was teasing you, his tongue dipping inside your entrance, as sloppy as it felt.  “Hmmn,” you can’t speak, forearms resting on the armrest now as your head hangs between your shoulders and his fingers make pliable work of your asscheeks.  Pushing you down, using your hips to move back and forth against his mouth – like he’s using you while you use him.

The air is thick under your dress, sticky and humid, as Joel swirls this tip of his devilish tongue in the most astonishing circles you’ve ever experienced, and you know it’s because he has more experience than you do.  Has so much to teach you, if you let him.  Your mouth hangs open as you try to inhale, but it’s just too much.  Especially with the way he thumbs into your stomach, then your pubic bone – lifting it just slightly to expose your clit to him.  An angle, not even you have found yourself.

It almost feels like too much.  It’s intentional, the way his tongue flicks over that bundle of nerves right at the top of your cunt.  Delicious, deliberate.  Two fingers greet your entrance and it startles you, the way he’s rubbing your hole with his two fingers in slow circles before pressing them where you want them most.

“Tell me you want it,” you hear, muffled and fucked, and you shiver at the slightest bit of lack of contact.

“I want it, I want your fingers – please!”

And that seems to send him over the edge of how much he’s willing to hold back because he’s exactly where he was.  Mouth on your clit, but fingers skillfully pressing inside of you and you don’t know how long you’ll last.  Not with the pads of his fingers tapping in the perfect tempo against the ridged spot inside you.

That’s when a weird sensation comes over you.  A pressure, you felt like you had to pee and your insides pulled in more trying to keep it all contained.  “I–,” you start, but it happens so suddenly.  Your orgasm rushes through you, convulsing and almost falling over the edge of the couch, you dig your fingernails into the upholstery.  Your eyes roll back, and fuck, so are your hips.  Unable to stop yourself using Joel’s mouth to keep you exactly right there.  Pleasure pricks your skin, it feels like every cell is ignited – but you jump when you feel a rush of fluid come out of you.  The pressure rebounding out, then rippling pleasure back inside you.  Joel fucks you with his tongue and fingers until he feels you calm down.

“W-what, what… did I do?” You pant, and Joel is groaning, too.  He lifts your hips to get lungfuls of oxygen, so dizzy on you and you notice how soaked his pair of fingers feel on your skin.  Sits you down on his chest and you can see his face finally.  Can see his mouth parting, gasping as his eyes are hooded and so gone.  Curls stick to his forehead, his shirt a dampened colour at the collar.  You blush heavily, embarrassed because you aren’t even sure what that was.  Did he hate that, was that weird?

“C’mere,” he growls with gritted teeth and sits up, the tables turning instantly.  Joel’s stripping his shirt off, kicking every last bit of the bottom half he had on to be abandoned on the floor.  His fingers remove the buttons, but he can’t really get them – those fingers too big for the buttons.  “Here,” you whisper, an intense feeling of lust falling over any self-conscious self talk you had.  You undo the top of your dress one button at a time until your breasts are released from your bra – you moan when he has no problem spilling your tits from the satin, nipples in stiff peaks from your orgasm.  And everything else.

“You know what you did?”  Joel asks, taking both of your nipples between his fingers from each hand.  You moan, lifting your hips and he bites his lip when he sees your cunt front under your dress.  “What was it?”  You ask, curiously.  Innocently.

“You squirted f’me, baby,” he slurs, thumbing over your clit now as he gets a good look at you and he’s drunk on you.  His cock throbbing against your thigh, he taps it against your skin before realising what he needed.

 “Fuck,” Joel mutters and you can tell by the tone it’s not just at your appearance.  “What is it?”  You inquire, eyebrows knit.

“Gotta get a condom,” you hear him mutter, getting onto one foot and you stop him.  “No.  No.  I want to feel you.  It’s okay, I don’t get pregnant–” well that sentence isn’t exactly how you mean for it to come out, but your mind is mush, your body feels boneless underneath him, and he chuckles at that.  At how gone your brain is.  Here he was, thinking he was the only one.  “Okay, okay, darlin’.  I believe ya.”

And really, maybe he should be using more discretion.  But he can’t get the feeling of you out of his head.  You were everywhere.  His mouth, his glistening chest and beard.  He takes you by the hips then, sitting back to flip you on your hands and knees with your help and you moan at the sensation.  Joel looks down at you, groaning of your ass in the air, pushing back for his cock.  “Such a needy little thing, now,”  it’s as if someone else is talking.  This isn’t the Professor Miller you know.  This man has layers and you’re first in line to know exactly what that entails.

Joel takes the base of his cock, bobbing it as it throbs alive in his hand and runs through your slick with the head of it.  “So fucking wet.  Beginning to think you’ve been wanting this for as long as I have.”

You bite a whine and he can see the back of your head nodding as you crane your neck back enough to make eye contact, but his eyes fall down to your ass pressing eagerly on his cock.  Doing your best to press him inside yourself.

“Go ahead,” he slaps his cock on your folds and you mewl at the wet sounds coming from it.  “Take my cock.”

And take, you do.  Joel holds it out for you, keeps it steady and you push back slow on his cock.  Clenching around the head and he growls at that.  “You dirty thing.  This how you fuck all your teachers?”  It burns your skin, pushing your face into your arm and you shake your head.

“Words.” He warns.

“Just you!  Just you, Joel!”

“Just me,” he parrots, hissing when you shift back and you both twitch and groan when you take him to the hilt of you.  It was so thick, stretching you out until you felt split apart from him.  “Just me, show me then.  Show me how you fuck me.”

You bite into your arm then, choking on a sob as you push your ass back over and over.  Your cunt taking him deep like this, it almost feels like too much and not enough at once.  Torturously slow against the spongy spot again

 It felt so amazing taking him yourself, but it was like an itch you couldn’t scratch on your own.  The tapping of his balls against your clit was too far apart in tempo, his cock speared inside you at a pace that didn’t have quite the same leverage as Joel did behind you.

His hands busied themselves on your ass, peeling the muscle apart – pressing his digits to leave bruises and just when you think it’s too much to take, he gives you something else.  His spit falling from his lips right to the velvet of your asshole.  You shudder and flutter around him when it falls to where you’re connected.  Your fingertips grip the other armrest now, cheek resting atop of your hand and you can’t do it yourself anymore.  “Fuck me, Joel!  Professor Miller, please!”

“Shit – you know where to push, don’t you?”  Joel’s wide hands slide up your sides, keeping them locked in place as he pulls your hips to him at first.  Using your whole lower body, your head hands doing your best to keep yourself up but you’re so close when he uses you like this.  When he picks up the pace and you let your head fall on his throw pillow – your screams of desire are targeted into the plush cushion.

Joel is bound up in amazement behind you.  How you feel around him, your gorgeous figure in front of him as he gives you every bit of power he can now.  His hips hammering into you, but with the right amount of speed – not too fast, not too slow.  The sound of his balls slapping against your clit is faster now, and the difference is what you focus on.  The way it sounds.  Joel feels you tighten, pulse around his own pulse and he has to say something to you.  Has to talk you through it, even if he’s not sure you’ll like it.

“So fuckin’ good for me,” he drapes his body over your back, huffing into your ear as the controlled weight of him pushes your ass down just enough to make your thighs shake.  You are soaked, sticky against his abdomen, between your thighs.  Over your own stomach.  You move your face so you can feel his skin closer against your.  His lips staying on your cheekbone, he grunts and nods.

“That’s it, fuckin’ take it.  I know you can take it.  Those shaky fuckin’ thighs better hold on.”

You feel yourself coil and he is quick to sooth over your hips with his palms.

“Relax, baby.  That’s it, that’s good, darlin’.  Shh, easy.  Do you feel that heat?”

You nod hopelessly, the buildup was so strong you couldn’t do anything but curl your fingers into fists and whimper repeatedly.

“Give into that heat.  Come for me, I know you can be so good for me.  Good for – fuck – fuck.  Good for my cock,” Joel groaning in your ear makes you flutter uncontrollably, and he wastes no time in wrapping his arm around your front, rolling quick circles at the split of your cunt, right at your clit.  “Milkin’ my fuckin’ cock like that, don’t stop.  Don’t fuckin’ stop,” he grits, and you’re gasping.

Clawing at the pillow, head craning up and back as you come.  Mouth gaped, Joel takes advantage – pouring his tongue into it, swirling and drinking you while his cock bottoms into you repeatedly until he can’t take it anymore.  You feel too good.  Perfect, even.

“Joel!” Your whine is high, as your wet folds take his merciless shoves.  “You feel so good, youfeelsogood!”  Your lip quivers, jerking in aftershocks that feel a lot like multiple orgasms.  You aren’t even sure how you feel, but he knows he has to pull out.  So he tells you, rough and pained against your ear.  He doesn’t want to any more than you do.  But as soon as he does, that reward feels just as sweet.

He exhales roughly through his nose, a popping sound filling the room when he pulls out.  Not even needing to touch himself to spill himself over the small of your back.

“Fuck,” he’s out of breath, grunting, and doing his best not to collide into you.  You’re still, the nape of your neck dews with sweat and you can feel it stick to your dress instantly.

“Stay there,” Joel pulls away, and you sit up on your elbows now that you’re fully flat and study his frame walk into the kitchen.

The back of him is just as irresistible as the front.

You hum hungrily at the landscape of his back.  But you do as you say, you don’t move a muscle.  When he comes back, you take note of the splotches of his chest, his neck red and sheened with sweat, too.  He’s just as disheveled.  The paper towel he comes back with is rough against your lower back, but tickles more than anything else.

Makes you wriggle and laugh.

“What did I say?”  He threatens, but his voice is much more smoother and tender.  More playful.  More like what you’re used to.

“Tickles!”

“You must endure it if you know what’s good for you.”  he’s finished enough for you to roll over.  You pull your tits back into your bra with another low laugh, but to yourself at how exposed and a mess you’re sure you look on your professor’s couch.

“I think I like that threat.”

“No more,” and that makes your heart drop.  He must be able to see the disappointed look on your face, so he rephrases his sentence in an instant.  “No more tonight.”

“Maybe I should be teaching you the importance of ambiguity.”

“Next lesson.”

Your heart soars just as fast as it dropped.

---

While you slip on your sneakers, you turn your heel to him – bag in tow.  “Listen, I don’t want this to be why I passed.”

“It’s not – it won’t be,”  Joel chews up the space between you – his hand pressing against the doorframe that your delicate hand adorns at the knob, fully dressed himself, now.  “You will pass by your own volition.  I meant it – you are bright.  You won’t let anybody take that from you, will you?” You knew that wasn’t a question as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, but you still swayed your head ‘no’.

“Not even me.”  He whispers, pressing his lips to your forehead before dropping his arm – allowing you to leave.  And that’s exactly what he’ll let you believe.

“Especially not you.”  You smile, leaning up to kiss his lips – your flavour lingers over his facial hair and tongue.  Your panties in his pocket.

“Goodnight, Professor Miller.”

“Goodnight, doll.”

taglist: @cool-iguana – comment to be added!

[rookiesbookies]

Captain John MacTavish x His wife x Sergeant Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish

I dont know how it would happen but i'm imagining sweet little Johnny ‘Soap’ Mactavish meeting Captain MacTavish and his wife. I guess this is me rewriting what happened bc Im made we’ll probably never see Neil as his boy again. 

Masterlist is pinned on profile as always, don’t forget to leave me a comment or a request in my inbox to let me know what yall want to see!

Smut smut smut under the cut for my lovely mutual @shotmrmiller of my John and his wife meet sweet little Johnny au thing.

Also @glitterypirateduck this one is for you and #soapitup

“Bhean,” he whispers loudly, following it with squirrel noises, motioning for her to follow. She walks out of the recreational room. He nuzzled bis face into her neck, letting her know he was nervous about what he was going to say. “I'm getting serious deja vu.”

“Talk to me, Goose.” A shameless quote of their favorite date night movie from when they dated made his nervous face crack a smile.

“I have this crazy memory,” he mumbled into her neck, she always worried he’d hurt himself craning it down like that so often.

“What about, don’t leave me on cliff hangers, Mr. MacTavish.”

“Do you remember our first time together?”

“Skiing or fucking? Because I remember both very well.” He chuckled at her bringing up his failed skiing attempts from a vacation they went on.

“Making love, Bonnie.” He hummed, “would you believe me if I told ya it’s because I had done it before?”

“Considering baby you told me he’d call me mommy? Yes. Yes, I would.” She hummed. “You also found my clit really fast which makes that really reasonable in retrospect.”

“What if, like my future self taught me at that stage, we teach him how to make love to you so he can charm you with the monster.” It came out more as a question, making his nerves hammer against his chest. He was more than sure he beloved wife would say yes, but he didn’t want to risk making her uncomfortable or saying it wrong. 

“He does really want to impress me,” she mumbled. “Fine. But there’s ground rules.”

“Of course, Mo chridhe, anything.”

“Just the tip, you know how I am about hygiene. I don’t fully try young you to keep everything clean. He swears to secrecy and if I ever think for a second he mentions this im ending his blood line. And you stay with us. You are my husband after all, not the boy.” The Captain nodded with every word. He’d make sure. He knew the Sergeant would want no harm to come to his future wife, and the Captain didn’t need a scorched relationship.

“Thank you, Mo leannan, it’s what helped me keep up hope I could lock you down when I met you when I was his age.”

“So it was a memory and more than deja vu?” She asked with a raised brow.

The Captain just simply nodded, planting a kiss on her temple, “you’d tell me if you wanted to back out right? If it made you uncomfortable?”

“John.” She was serious, she never called him just ‘John’. “I expect the same from you. And you’d know I’d never keep that from you.”

She reached up to his face and gently rubbed it. He melted just a little bit into her touch. “I assume you don’t plan to do this on base?”

“No, but that’s the hard part.” “I’ll handle it, go tell the mini you,” she said softly, planting a kiss before walking away.

The Captain sighed and let his shoulders relax, he knew he was so lucky to have her. The sergeant was about to be the lucky one though.

He made his way down the hall and stole his past self from a conversation with Gaz. “My wife and I have decided to give you an opportunity to learn more about her.” He said in a low deep voice. “I will be teaching you about her body so you can please her but there are ground rules she set and a few of my own.” Once he covered his wife’s, he got on to his own, “do not bite her, dig your nails into her, or ignore me if I tell you to do something. No coming inside either and don’t try anything.” Sergeant Soap nodded along, “I’m not sure you’re actually listening, sergeant.” The Captain growled. Soap’s eyes went wide, “Captain me, sir, I prayed last night for an opportunity to feel her skin, honestly I was just expecting to be allowed to shake her hand.” The younger Soap grumbled, “believe me, I’m all ears.” “And none of that ‘I have a latex allergy so I can’t wear condoms’ crap. I know we don’t have that allergy. You will be wearing one.” “You’re so no’ fun,” Soap mumbled. “Fine.”

The Captain didn’t entirely know how he felt about the kid creaming his wife. Sure, it was him, but it was a younger, rowdier, dumber him and not his same body. Getting married meant he was the only one allowed to cream pie his wife, and yes, it is a version of him, it wouldn’t be the same as him doing it. Even if his wife is on birth control and enjoys them, he knows he’d get jealous, way too jealous. Besides it’s his job anyway, he signed a paper to be able to do it, and this kid version gets to just randomly do it.

“So when do I get to show mo bhean how a younger body is better to make love with?” Sergeant asked, patting his older self on the back. This made the Captain flip until the voice of an angel spoke up.

“Ya mean when you meet yer own damn wife. Ya wee-” the Captain’s rage was cut off. “Tomorrow night. I’ll be there ahead of schedule to prepare, my husband will drive you.” She said, walking past the two with effortless grace and a sway of her hips. She flicked a piece of hair back over her shoulder. 

The next 24 hours were full of different forms of tension for younger Soap. He was eager, so eager, almost too eager in the Captain’s eye. The Captain’s raging jealousy made him almost want to shut down the whole thing. 

When he loaded the sergeant and himself into the old truck he sighed. “Remember the rules?” “Of course.”

“Can’t believe you still own this truck.” “She’s carried me through a lot.” “When you meet YOUR wife, she’ll appreciate it. Square bodies are her favorites.”

The rest of the drive was small talk. The sergeant saw a notification appear on the Captain’s phone and snatched it up, since the captain was driving. He back read the short conversation from this morning between the Captain and his wife, who had been the notification. ‘Mo chridhe you better not warm yourself up on that clarty vibrator’

‘You expect him to be able to get me warmed up enough?’

‘Its a teaching experience, mo leannan’

‘I don’t want to make him wait too long, I remember how impatient you were <3’

“Does she think ima div?” Soap looked at the Captain and asked. “Reading my personal texts? Real professional, ya eejit.”

“Does she think I can’t make her feel good? Or make her feel like she’s on Eccie?”

“No, she just doesn’t want you to wait too long. She does this. I bought it for her first time I left on a long mission, now she uses it to take away the fun part of getting her warmed up.”

“So she thinks I'm a fandan.”

“Dinnae fash yersel.” The Captain sighed, “we’re here and the least ya can do is make her feel good as a thank you.”

When he dragged his younger self into the hotel room, it finally set in that he was going to be cucked. By a younger him. Fucking his wife.

He knocked on the door twice and it kind of felt like his wedding night all over again. There she stood in a silk robe, eyes only on him with a gentle and soft smile. It's a smile she only gave when she was nervous, he gave a similar smile back to let her know he felt the same. It was subtle, but he reminded him this was indeed his beautiful wife.

“Go strip in the bathroom and sit down in the chair when you’re done, we need to talk.” The Captain said sharply. 

“Aye aye Captain,” the sergeant mumbled, walking into the bathroom. 

The Captain’s hands immediately found his way to his wife’s hips. 

“Are you nervous?” He asked, holding her close with his mouth near her ear between kisses he placed in her hair.

“Of course,” she said softly into his chest.

“Do you need to back out? We can leave and forget all about this if you need.”

“Do you need me to want to back out?” She asked soft, turning her head to look up into his eyes.

“No, I don’t think so, mo bonnie lass.” He said, planting a kiss on her forehead. “Give me a safeword to give him and a safeword for emergencies.”

“Two levels of safe words?” 

“Just in case I don’t hear the first one, he’s kinda loud.” She giggled and placed a kiss on his neck.

“Bubbles for him and Soap for emergencies.”

“My old callsign?”

“I never call you anyway,” she said softly, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Can I undress you and keep that privilege to myself?” All he needed was the little nod she gave before he moved to untie the robe. 

The lace blue bra she had been taunting him with with the matching panties drove him crazy. She ran her hands up and around his chest as his opened the clasp with one motion and undid the hooks holding the straps over her shoulders so she didn't have to remove her hands from his torso.

He sunk down lower as he planted sloppy kisses down her body and removed her underwear. Lovely pacing a kiss at her lower lips before trailing bite marks backup as the Sergeant exited the bathroom.

“I thought you said I couldn’t bite!” He accused as he watched the Captain leave a hickey on his wife’s chest.

“YOU can’t, I can.” This made the younger Soap look offended. The Captain smirked at the Sergeant’s face. “My wife, remember. Not yours.”

His wife just ran her fingers through his slightly grown out mohawk, a means to sooth him. 

Captain MacTavish moved to his wife’s ear and whispered softly, “may I told yer hand through this, mo ghraidh?”

“Gu sìorraidh is gu bràth,” she said back, pointing to the tattoo on her collarbone. When Soap heard it he almost fainted.

“She knows the language?” Sergeant Johnny asked.

The Captain hummed, pulling his mouth away from the dark hickey he was leaving on her neck, “learned a little bit for me.”

The Captain gave his younger self a once over before landing a sarcastic remark as his eyes landed on the bush, “glad to know you haven’t started shaving yet.”

“You trim?”

“Occasionally,” the Captain pulled his waistband down a bit, nuzzling into his wife, “I wax for special occasions. Yer lucky I found one who doesn’t care.”

The Captain locked his fingers with his wife’s, gently herding her to the bed. He laid her down gently and got her into a good position, shoving a few of the lousy pillows under her waist to offer a better angle.

“How are you?” He asked softly, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand. “Ready as I can be,” she said with a soft giggle, as he bent down to plant a kiss on her lips.

“Sergeant, come here.” The Captain commanded, pointing at the foot of the bed, his wife couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her as she dropped her hand over her face. The Captain moved his wife’s knees apart with his free hand, the other still lovingly holding her’s. Johnny got on his own knees as John commanded him as he spread his wife’s pussy lips apart with his fingers. “Ya see that?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, sir,” John corrected Johnny. He basically gave his younger self a tour of his wife’s softest pieces. Telling Johnny her favorite things that he does and what she reacts best to. Johnny was so enthralled with her body he could move his eyes anywhere else. Especially when John put his fingers inside and curled them suddenly making her gasp so Johnny knew how far in her g spot was. The way her body jolted and softly raised as the gasp left her lips was his new favorite thing. He was so jealous he didn’t have her yet. That she wasn’t his wife yet, that he didn’t have the liberty to mark her body yet. “Get to work,” the Captain said, patting Johnny. He didn’t need to say it twice because Johnny went right in.

The wife brought her free hand down to her mouth to hold in the gasps and moans as Johnny ate so eagerly. John was usually slow and sensual, to the messy and a vehement eating that was happening at her core was a much different sensation. John gently pulled her hand away.

“Checkin in with ya, are ya doing good?” he asked his lovely wife. Her eyes couldn’t focus, her mouth gaping and shutting. 

She gave a nod and a hum as her body started to clench as Johnny inserted fingers between her legs and curled, making her body lurch towards the sky and gasp. The Captain gently placed kisses on her face, her velvety cries just make Johnny want to do it again. “She’s even prettier from this view,” Johnny mumbled, spreading her apart with his fingers.

“She donnae like condoms but imma make ye wear one anyway,” Captain Mactavish told his younger self before placing a kiss to the forehead of his flushed wife, still coming down from her orgasm as her husband ran his fingers through her hair as her breathing slowed with her closed eyes. John threw the condom at Johnny, who quickly rolled it on before standing up. “Donnae force it in, go in slow.”

Johnny positioned himself, putting one of the lovely wife’s ankles to his shoulder before giving it a soft kiss. He didn’t dare pull her down the bed like he would have normally done, he walked on his knees to meet her. Hands sliding down her legs to lift her ass, one he saw as so perfect.

He slowly slid it in as John kissed his wife’s face, holding her hand. She was more than used to John’s dick by now, but she was far from used to Johnny’s pacing. So much energy and stamina, not to say John didn’t have it but John was definitely more about making love than he was about fucking or just having sex.

Once she started to grind her hips, Johnny’s face lit up and he immediately started a toe curly, back arching pace. His tip bullied her g spot, making her mouth fall open but no sound falling from her lips.

John cooed at her as Johnny bullied her soft parts, not caring about his own pleasure, solely the pleasure of this goddess in front of him. Once he was sure he had found the spot, Johnny folded her a bit more to hit it a bit deeper, making sure everything was dragging against her.

The only thing that left her were whines, she felt her melted brain might just spill out her ears as the white, staticy heat built up. 

A nice ring built up around Johnny’s cock as he began to roll his hips. Her pulsating cunt milked him so much he felt an almost numbness in his fingers as all he could do was hold her and roll his hips as she let out a broken moan and came. Her husband’s voice echoing around her head with praises and loving words.

It was down right impossible for Soap to not come from her body's pulsations so he did. He wished it hadn’t been into a condom but he was grateful he just got the chance.

John gave him a look and Johnny took it knowingly, going to get a warm and damp towel. He handed it to John who began to clean his wife up, nodding to Johnny to let him know he could leave. 

Johnny didn’t know it was so John could reclaim his wife with some slow sensual sex and lots of love bites.

John, unlike Johnny, was going to come inside. Johnny looked at the photo he had taken of himself with the wife of Captain John from the night prior, "I'm going to marry you. Yer the one I've been looking for."

[acourtofkindness]

Thank you for sending in all the stories, here you can find the collection! Some of these are one-shots, some are longer stories, just click your way through them and also check out their other fics!

A Court of Vice and Victors

by @wishcamper Acosf rewrite where Nesta actually gets help and she and Cassian have a healthier dynamic, plus an Illyrian murder mystery

Pages Turned

by @climbthemountain2020 A character study on Nesta Archeron, the hardships she's faced through her life, and how they've shaped her as a person.

Could You Love Me While I Hate Myself

by @witch-and-her-witcher Humans have just been freed from servitude to the fae after years at war on Prythian and times are desperate for Nesta Archeron. With Feyre MIA and Elain a shell of herself, her options are becoming increasingly limited. When one of the young fae warriors, Cassian, who has carved a name for himself on the battlefield proposes to her after recognizing a mating bond between them, Nesta doesn't see any choice but to agree to take him as her husband and move herself and her sister to his home Court and the wilds of Illyria. War brings them together, a bond binds them - but is that enough for two broken people to find love with each other?

Firm and Fragrant Still the Brambleberries

by @foundress0fnothing When Nesta became a nurse at the start of the war, she could not have predicted a patient as challenging as Lieutenant Cassian Davies, nor he a nurse as captivating as her. As the same war that brought them together threatens to tear them apart, Nesta and Cassian must navigate the complexities of love and duty to find the way back to each other. A WWI historical AU.

Wreck My Plans, That's My Man

by @c-e-d-dreamer Drummer for the Bat Boys, Cassian has a large following, but sometimes Nesta doesn't appreciate fangirls calling themselves "Cassian's future wife."

It Looks As Though You're Letting Go

by @Darkcat18 (on ao3) Everyone is born with an arrow on the back of their hand which points to their soulmate at midnight on their eighteenth birthday. After her parents' disastrous marriage and her father's subsequent depression following the death of her mother, Nesta realized a soulmate is nothing more than guaranteed heartache and ruination. On the eve of her eighteenth birthday, she packs up her car and leaves her family and life behind forever. What she doesn't count on, however, is having a soulmate like Cassian, who may be the one to prove to her that a soulmate is what she needs.

I Guess It's Half Timing (And The Other Half's Luck)

by @moodymelanist Nesta and Cassian have a steamy one-night stand while out celebrating St. Patrick’s Day, but their lives are changed forever once Nesta realizes her period is late. Follow along as Nesta and Cassian navigate preparing to become parents, balancing their other life stresses, and figuring out their feelings for one another!

Amidst the Madness

by @This_Immortal_Hope (on ao3) Love and war have always followed the same rules: Quick to ignite, slow to extinguish. There aren't many things Cassian has dared to openly want in his 500 years of existence. Not even the position he currently occupies as Lord of Windahaven (far too lofty a spot for nothing more than a well-blodded bastard, if you ask the other Illyrian Lords), but from the second Nesta Archeron stepped foot in his camp, the entire world ebbed into a single truth. She is his. He is hers. Everything else - the war he is meant to lead, the people relying on him, the legacy he should be fighting to protect, cease to exist the second his eyes are caught in roiling silver flames. There is pain in this female, his female. And retribution will be exacted. Rhysand has his war, and now so does Cassian. Whether the two align ... only Nesta can give that order.

Sweetest Con

by @separatist-apologist Nesta Archeron has been trapped in witness protection for the past five years, hiding a secret no one can ever learn. All she has to do is wait out the criminals back home determined to punish her and her sisters for a lie they told years before. She can handle anything- even the new agent sent to keep her safe.

The Whole Truth

by @TheTeaQueen (on ao3) A beautifully heartbreaking story about what if Papa Archeron used/sold Nesta back in their village, and the IC learning this truth. It features Rhys and Nesta sibling bonding over their respective SA traumas. And Cassian helping Nesta to heal and feel comfortable with touch again

The Nesta Variation

by @persegrace (on ao3) A modern AU where Cassian is a military vet and Nesta is a former ballet dancer. They're both dealing with trauma, and meet in AA.

Ultima Ex Nobis

by @fieldofdaisiies Six years into a global pandemic which was caused by a mass fungal infection that turns hosts into zombie-like creatures and makes the whole of Prythian collapse, the former army general Cassian Cadell is tasked with one very special mission – escorting Nesta Archeron, one of the few immune survivors, across a post-apocalyptic Prythian to a group of people of the name L. Their identity is unknown but they can make an antidote.

you make my motor run

by @wilde-knight When Nesta and Cassian are set up on a blind date, neither of them can imagine their families feeling whole again. But with sparks flying between them, will they finally be able to imagine the road ahead?

[jerzwriter]

Second Thoughts If it were cannon... AU

A million years ago, someone asked me if I'd write a series that mimicked canon but with Tobias Carrick as head of the Edenbrook Diagnostic Team. While I don't have the bandwidth to take on a series at this point, as I'm doing my Open Heart re-read, I will rewrite select scenes that I think could be interesting.

Part one was the first night at Donahue's when there was a serious connection building between Dr. Tobias Carick and new intern, Dr. Casey MacTavish. But now, they've had a chance to sleep on it, do things look different in the morning light? Lack of sleep, misunderstandings, and a dash of fear lead Casey to make a choice. Will it be one she comes to regret?

Book: Open Heart Book 1 / Chapter 3 Pairing: Tobias Carrick x F!MC (Casey) Featuring: Bryce Lahela, Jackie Varma, Landry Olsen Rating: Teen Words: 2,200 Series: If it were canon... AU Summary: See above

A/N: A quick thank you to @angelasscribbles for helping me come up with a new nickname lol I was at a loss. And thank you to @alj4890 - because of you I'm inspired to continue with this!

Series Masterlist Tobias x Casey Masterlist My Masterlist

The second day of her internship was not going as planned. Casey hardly managed to get any sleep in the miniature closet she called her room. At least the stairs above her came in handy today. She accidentally set her alarm for 5:00 PM instead of 5:00 AM, and if not for someone stomping down those steps, she would have overslept and likely decided to return to Philadelphia in shame. Now, with barely 30 minutes before her shift began, she threw on a ratty old Henly that paired perfectly with the wrinkled pair of jeans at the foot of her bed. Hair and make-up? Not today. A messy bun and brushed teeth would have to suffice. Somehow, she managed to arrive at Edenbrook with ten minutes to spare; when she saw a group of surgical interns playing basketball outside. Bryce Lahela was amongst them, and suddenly she wished she had spruced up just a little bit more.

“Up top! I’m open!” A shirtless Bryce barely got those words out before he flew by her, catching a pass and dribbling confidently toward the hoop. He dunked the ball, then screamed out in celebration. “Ha! Who’s the king now?”

“King?” Casey laughed, “You nearly killed me getting to that ball! I think the king should at least get a traffic infraction."

“Damn! I didn't realize. I would  have gladly given up two points for a chance to collide with you.”

Casey laughed as the other interns whooped and hollered when she saw the ball suddenly flying in her direction and caught it with both hands.

“Well, come on then, MacTavish!" Bryce goaded. "You gonna play, or you gonna send that back over?”

With a determined smirk, Casey slowly dribbled the ball, taunting him. “Come see if you can get it from me." Bryce sauntered toward her with what she’d come to know as his signature grin firmly in place.

“You’re making me look good,” he whispered upon approach. “I really am the king.”

“King of the surgical interns,” she laughed. “I guess that’s something, but....” without another word, she dribbled the ball around him, rushing toward the hoop with Bryce at her heels.

“Gonna make it tough on me, huh?” he laughed, wrapping his arm around her waist and spinning her around, but not before she shot the ball right into the hoop.

“That’s gotta be a foul, Ref,” she hollered, giggling in Bryes’s arms.

“It’s not a foul if you’re on my team,” Bryce defended. “And you are definitely on my team.”

Casey caught her breath as he put her on his feet, crossing her arms defiantly. “Says who?”

 “Says me!” He replied with a playful shrug. “But seriously, you want to join in?”

“Nah, my shift starts in five, and I’d really like to make myself look decent before it starts.”  

“You’re already looking good, MacTavish. Don’t go too crazy; I don’t want competition for hottest intern.”

“Ha!” she laughed, reaching up and flirtatiously pinching his cheeks. “I’ve already got that in the bag, Lahela!”

"Quite possibly," she beamed. "Hey, lunch later?"

"Sounds like a plan."

He smiled as he watched her run to the hospital entrance, pushing her way through a group of staff who had stopped to watch the game and assess the new talent.

“Excuse me. Pardon me,” she pushed through.

“You looked really good out there,” a pretty nurse winked.

“Thanks,” Casey smiled. Completely unaware that her handsome attending was quietly sipping his coffee nearby.

“She was impressive, wasn’t she, Dr. Carrick?” The nurse asked.

“Yep," he nodded. "She sure was.”

After a quick change, sprucing up her hair, and even applying a dab of lip gloss, Casey was the last of the interns to enter the atrium, but still on time. She was eager to meet her senior resident, and when Dr. Ines Delarosa called her name, Casey gently pumped her fist. “Yes!”

“Why are you so excited?” Jackie asked.

“I met her yesterday, she’s amazing! Bubblegum and rainbows incarnate!”

“Gross!” Jackie grimaced. “I’d rather take my chance with the grumpy ass I've got. I’ll catch you on the other side!”

Ines clapped her hands with joy to gather her charges. “All right, young ones! You’ve got your assignments! Go forth and shine bright!”

And Ines greeted her interns with the same enthusiasm when they returned a few hours later. “I hope you’re all excited! We’re about to begin rounds!”

“Woo-hoo!” Casey yelled as Ines gave a thumbs up with approval.

“That’s the attitude I want to see! You’ll be even more excited when I tell you we have a very special guest! Dr. Tobias Carrick will be joining us for rounds today!”

Casey turned to see Tobias leaning against a wall, looking up from his clipboard at the mention of his name. He curtly nodded at the interns, and Casey’s mouth went dry. Why did he have to be so beautiful? One glance made her knees go weak, and when his ice-blue eyes locked with hers, she could feel her cheeks begin to flush. She had been fueled by liquid courage when she approached him at Donahue's last night. What kind of intern flirts mercilessly with her attending on her very first day? But with his eyes still on her, she felt the heat rising. Yeah, she thought, that’s why I did. But when he turned away without acknowledging her, she began to question her judgment again.

“Let’s do this,” Dr. Carrick said gruffly.

“We’re doing rounds with Dr. Carrick? This is amazing! Also, I’m going to puke!” Landry whispered softly but loud enough to hear.

Tobias stopped short and looked over his shoulder, catching Landry chatting with Casey. “Less chatting and more moving!” He scowled. “Or do you think you’ve learned enough to keep your patients alive with just one day on the job?”

Casey’s brow furrowed. He didn’t seem at all like the man she met yesterday: the one who patiently guided her through an emergency procedure before her shift even began, one whose jovial attitude kept the interns energized throughout the day, or with whom she flirted shamelessly last night, perhaps that last one was the problem. Still, she shook her head and whispered to Landry.

“He was so cool yesterday. Why is he acting like such a jerk today?”

Dr. Carrick screeched to a halt again, causing several interns to trip over themselves to avoid toppling on top of him.

“Something to say, Dr. MacTavish?”

Her wide-eyed peers whispered amongst themselves. How did he already know her name? Dr. Carrick didn’t expect an answer, but Casey was giving him one all the same.  

“Yes, actually. I was wondering why you were so irritable today. I liked the Dr. Carrick I met yesterday much better.”

Tobias crossed his arms, biting his cheek to stifle a laugh, and Ines looked nervously between them. “Ha-ha!” She laughed. “Dr. MacTavish is so funny... haha! That will help make you a good doctor, but why don’t we get on with our rounds.”

“Wait,” Tobias held up a hand. “Dr. MacTavish, what role do you think attendings will play in your residency? Do you they – myself in particular -  are here to amuse and appease you?”

“Nope," she replied, not backing down. "Not at all.”

“Good. Because all of us will be putting in long hours, sometimes you won’t sleep for days on end. You’ll be dealing with life-or-death issues, and sometimes, the losses will nearly destroy you. No one is going to be rainbows and sunshine all the time. So I suggest you learn to deal with irritable colleagues and patients alike. It’s as much a part of this job as anything else.” He looked directly at Casey, and even as he was admonishing her, his gaze still made her melt. “Is that clear?”

“Crystal,” she grinned as Tobias forced himself to look away. Casey was completely unaware, she had the exact same effect on him. b

“Good. So why don’t we start rounds with your patient then?”

Landry wanted to question Casey as they walked away. He wasn’t sure if she was his hero, if she was out of her mind, or a combination of both, but he didn’t dare speak after that exchange.  

Casey and Landry went on to present. Or better said, Casey did. Landry was so starstruck by Dr. Carrick’s presence that he couldn’t bring himself to utter a word. Casey eyed him nervously, but when it was clear he was stalled, she jumped in to bail the duo out. Calmly and succinctly explaining that their patient had been in an accident and had internal bleeding as a result. She offered their prognosis and defended their treatment plan, even reassuring the patient when he expressed concerns about the length of his stay. Tobias was impressed with her, and halfway through her presentation, he couldn’t help but wonder why he was being so grumpy after all. It wasn’t like him at all.

“... so we have to get you healthy, Mike,” Casey said sweetly. “There are people counting on you.”

“Excellent, Dr. MacTavish,” Tobias approved, looking pointedly at Landry.

They proceeded to watch Elijah, Sienna, Jackie, Aurora, and other interns present.

“Congratulations!” Ines chirped. “You survived your first morning rounds! That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“Depends on who you ask,” Landry droned.

“Landry,” Casey frowned. “Don’t worry, you’ll get a chance to...,” but Tobias began speaking and drowned her out.

“All right, doctors! Your patients are all alive... let’s make sure they’re still that way when I see you tomorrow. You’re dismissed.”

Casey turned and walked away with the other interns, but she didn’t get far when Tobias called her back.

“Not you, Newbie. You have one more patient to see.”

“I... I do?” she stammered.

“And do I?” Landry asked.

“Did I say you?” Tobias glared.

“Nope,” Landry gulped, turning to Casey. “I guess I’ll see you later.”

Casey walked toward Tobias; while some interns gossiped, not even attempting to hide.

“What’s with them? One asked “Nothing! She just made a good a good impression on him.” “Yeah,” Another sneered. “A good impression on him at the bar last night!” “Well, I guess that’s one way to get ahead.”

Tobias didn’t hear, but Casey did, and she couldn’t conceal a frown as she walked his way. Seeing her distressed, he hoped his attitude had nothing to do with it. He greeted her with a warm smile.

“Hey there, Newb. Why so glum? You doing OK?”  

“I’m good,” she sighed. “Very sleepy, but good. Hey, I want to apologize; I’m sorry if I was a jerk back there...”

“Nah,” he replied, and she realized his graveled voice had the same effect on her as his damn eyes. This would not be easy. “I was the one being the jerk. That’s why I wanted to talk to you...”

“Wait,” she crossed her arms with narrowed eyes. “Are you telling me there’s no patient? You just wanted to talk to me?”

“Two things can be true at once, grasshopper,” he smiled. “That’s good to remember in medicine. But I am sorry for being grouchy. It’s not like me; I guess we all have bad days.”

“And we're all entitled to them every so often,” she winked. “Just don’t let it happen again.”

She wasn’t your standard intern, and he couldn’t help but laugh when he caught a nurse looking at them intently. She scattered away when he met her stare, refusing to shift his gaze. Casey followed his eyes and understood at once. She lowered her eyes as he returned his attention to her, his voice taking on a more serious tone. “Listen, about our talk last night..”

Casey felt herself becoming sick, and she didn't think skipping breakfast was the culprit. Her cheeks turned red, and her breath quickened. What would all the gossips say about the two of them standing this close? She was a kid from the wrong side of the tracks in Philly, worked her ass off to get here despite all those who said it was just a dream. She wasn’t going to have anyone saying her success was a result of flirting with her attending. But, God, she wanted to pursue him. She hadn't felt a connection like this in so long, and he had said they could find a workaround. Then she felt her blood go cold. Listen, about our talk last night...

Oh, God! She thought. I made a total ass out of myself, didn’t I? I’m an intern, for God’s sake. He’s Dr. Tobias Carrick; he likely has his choice of any person in this hospital. Any person in Boston! What the hell was I thinking? Convinced he was about to tell her he wasn’t interested. Her blatant flirtation was about to make her look like nothing short of a desperate fool, and Casey never wanted to be a desperate fool.

“It’s alright!” she interrupted, though right now, nothing felt alright. “We both had a few drinks, and it was late... it’s not surprising that we both said some things we didn’t mean.”

“Oh,” Tobias said, clearly taken aback. “I didn’t realize that...”

“Hey, Casey,” Bryce smiled, walking past with his team. “See you at lunch!”

“Oh,” Tobias repeated, images of the two of them kissing and their flirtatious game on the hospital court rushing to his mind. He recovered quickly this time. “It’s fine. I’m glad we’re on the same page then; this way, we don’t have to be awkward. We’re cool?”

“We’re cool,” she faked a smile, not understanding why his apparent dismissal brought the sting of bitter tears to the back of her eyes.

“Good! So, I do have a patient for you,” he said, nodding in the direction they were about to walk. “Her name is Kyra Santana, and her doctor thought a golf outing was more important than being here today. But, his loss is your and Ms. Santana’s gain...”

Casey took notes as he spoke. She never needed notes; she remembered almost everything, but she'd find any excuse to avoid looking into those eyes.

 “Hey, Dr. Carrick,” a beautiful nurse winked. Casey looked up momentarily but rushed her eyes back to the pad in her hand.

Thank God she quickly covered, she thought, her cheeks flushing with a mix of relief and embarrassment. He was Tobias Carrick. As if he’d have any real interest in her. It was bad enough that she had it this bad for her attending—the last thing she needed was for him to find out. That would be no way to start this phase of her life.

Tobias stood before the door, and, damn it, he smiled again. "You ready, Dr. MacTavish?"

"I like to think I am," she smiled as she walked through the door.

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.

[tommykinard217]

Monday motivation

Okay it is definitely no longer Monday but only by 30 minutes so it's fiiiineee. Anyways, have the first 600 ish words of that bucktommy s1 au. Yes I decided to include Abby, but who knows, I could completely rewrite this and take her out entirely. Or I could still write a s1 au without Abby and still write this. The world is my literary oyster lmao.

Buck had no idea what to expect when he called Abby, saying he was going to help her find her mom. Obviously, Abby was gorgeous, but also was going through a serious crisis, and he was promising to put his prior antics to bed. So to speak. 

He knew that it was going to be a rough day, and that finding Patricia wasn't going to be easy. 

But he didn't expect the knock at the door when Abby, Carla, and himself were trying to make a game plan. And neither, it seemed, did Abby. 

He stayed at the table with Carla, focusing more on the maps to try to get a decent idea of where to start, but he couldn't help but to be curious. Besides, the table wasn't exactly that far from the door.

“Tommy? What are you doing here?” Abby asked, seemingly confused. He looked up and saw Abby with her arms crossed. He couldn't exactly see the other figure in the doorway from this angle, but from the way Abby was looking up, he was probably around Buck’s own height. 

“You sent me a text. Patricia is missing? I know I'm probably the last person you want helping you but I actually have some experience with search and rescue. And I care about Patricia too, Abby. Even after everything between us.” 

Oh god. An ex? Was he going to try to win Abby back? Buck had no clue exactly what was going on between him and Abby, but he did really like her. He didn't want some asshole ex ruining things before they even started. But also, him stating he had search and rescue experience piqued Buck’s curiosity. Was he also a first responder? A cop, maybe? 

“You have search and rescue experience via a helicopter, Tommy. That's not exactly the same as doing it on foot.” Actually, that probably made him even more badass, though Buck hated to admit it. He could already feel his hackles rising at the mere thought of this Tommy dude helping. Which definitely made him an asshole considering any help was needed when it came to finding Abby’s mom.

Abby seemed to come to the same conclusion right before Tommy replied with whatever he was going to try to say to convince Abby to take him back. Or find her mom. Or both. Buck was starting to feel a little irrational already. 

“Fine. We need all the help we can get and we're wasting time standing in my doorway. I've already created a general radius of where she could have gotten in the nine hours she was gone.” 

Abby started walking over, Tommy in tow, and Buck couldn't help but stare. This was Abby’s ex? The man could have been sculpted by the Gods if he didn't know any better. Tall, built like a brick house. He even had a cleft. Man was basically Superman. And Buck had to compete with that? 

“And who are you?” Carla had said, breaking the slightly awkward silence that had built when Abby brought Tommy over. She looked him over appreciatively and honestly, Buck couldn't help but do the same. He was allowed to admire another guy, even if he was technically competition. 

Tommy had smiled slightly, a crooked little grin that Buck hated to admit was charming. “I'm Tommy. Abby's ex.” 

Carla’s eyes narrowed. “The guy who dumped her because she was taking care of the very woman we’re trying to find?” 

Tommy looked taken aback by the statement, and when Buck looked at Abby, she looked…sheepish was probably the best word, honestly. Tommy looked over at Abby, seemingly hurt. 

“That's what you're telling people? That I broke things off because of Patricia?” There was a hint of steel to Tommy's voice, checked in anger and hurt. “Damn, I knew I hurt you but I didn't realize you'd paint me as a total dick for it. You didn't seem the type. But I guess neither of us actually knew each other, huh? Anyways. We're here to find Patricia. You can clear things up later. Or not.” 

Abby looked regretful, and like she wanted to say more on the subject, but Tommy was right that time was being wasted on this. 

[nutmeg-mayonnaise]

I think you mentioned in one of your older posts that Trucy starts her own family in your AU at some point? Are there any details you can share? Trucy being a mother, and Phoenix, Edgeworth and Maya being grandparents, sound like fun ideas to explore.

Hello, friend! It's actually funny, I could've sworn I spoke about Trucy's fankids in more detail than "they exist", but I guess I haven't!

Anyway, here are her twin boys!

Their names are Ace and Jack Hyde, but they perform as one person named "Janus Gramarye" on stage. Their father is a Troupe member named Timothy "Tim" Hyde, and the gag with him is that despite how much Trucy talks about him, Phoenix has never seen him--not even at their wedding--so he thinks Trucy made him up.

Trucy and her show are on the road quite a bit in the AU, and since the AU is focused on the Mayonarumitsu family, there's not too many details about Trucy's family other than what I've shared above.

When Trucy's family is in town, it's not a given that Maya and the Fey girls are in town at the same time, so she sees them even less than she sees Phoenix, Edgeworth, and Gregory Wright. Trucy was far too old for Maya to adopt her when she and Phoenix had to marry to appease Kurain Village Customs to have the kids, so Maya is not technically her parent. Regardless, Trucy does start calling her "Mama" once Gregory was on the way and her twins call her "Mama Maya".

They call Phoenix "Grandpa" (obviously), and Phoenix always felt strange being a grandfather especially since Trucy's twins were born when his and Maya's youngest was only six years old. They also call Gregory "Uncle Grey".

Edgeworth is a little more distant, but the twins still call him "Papa Miles" regardless. He doesn't really see himself as their grandfather, but it's not something he will dare tell them straight to their face. He tries his best to be family, though.

Thanks for the question!

Some info about how I haven't been active lately below the cut! :)

Hello friends! I know I haven't posted in a couple months, and I still have a few asks that haven't been answered. I'm sitting on a pile of WIPs for artwork I want to have with those asks, so I'll get to them eventually!

I've been really busy with work this summer and I've spent most of my time with the AU writing that same fanfiction I mentioned before--the one that details how the OT3 went from where they were at the end of "Spirit of Justice" to being parents together. I wound up rewriting most of it and I'm very pleased with how it's turning out so far, and I can't wait to share it!

I'm not sure how often I can post since I'm still very busy, but I want to try do maybe make more simple artwork to post and answer asks so I could be more active! We'll have to see what happens!

Thank you all for your love and support for the AU. Your notes, kind words, tags, and comments all make me smile!

[nyc3]

Hi, I saw some rewriting idea about Nine saving Shig and yeah it's cool. I also not a fan of the whole "Izu wants to save Baby Tenko" HE NEVER EVEN MEET TENKO OR SAW HIM AS A BABY.

So I want the whole Izu saves Shig still but their relationship would have to be work...and comes an idea.

What if Shig wanted Izu to join his side? He saw how Izu is mistreated by everyone and he wants to save Izu. For once, Shig wants to reach for someone.

Nine is in this equation and we can say ...he wants shig to not be used by afo.

How about that?

An au where Shig wants to make Izu join his side. Shig is making an effort for one hero and later said hero retribute the action.

That could shake Nine's beliefs...or not?

I actually want character development for Nine in the sense he realizes most of his beliefs are not entirely what he actually wants, but more the way being born in extreme conditions molded him to think only the power and strenght matter in a cruel world where people aren't treated equally.

After all, like I said in other of my post I think Nine internally has an unconscious desire to protect the weaks using the strength he possess. And his supposed distaste for weak people is more like a defense mechanism created due experience a hard life marked by the way society puts him down despite his rightfully called divine powers.

Because when you think about it, how did he even knew his friends are all that powerful before know them? He just saw them in such low life conditions and was like "I need to save them".

In my rewrite version of the story Nine does indeed have the heart of a hero, but due his life experiences he knows more drastic actions need to be made in order to improve something. He would be like a middle point between Deku who is pro status quo without realize, and Shigaraki who also shares a similar view but don't view ahead of destroy.

Speaking of which I guess the dynamic of Shigaraki trying to be a hero on his own way for Deku would result of him being scared at first. Because let's admit it, even if Shigaraki has good intentions for Midoriya I think his methods would be far to extreme to Deku accepting his offer, at least at first.

And that's where Nine would act a as a middle point between them.

I talked a lot of why I think Deku and Nine are perfect foils for each other, but his rivalry could find a neutral spot when both of them try to save Shigaraki from the influence of AFO.

Except in this case Nine would be the one to call out Deku for having a very surface level desire of save Shigaraki, a person Midoriya never knew or understand. Deku just want to be a hero because he had a preconceived idea of what is good for criminals, but never look the big picture or care about what happen to them after being arrested (like he does in canon duh).

Nine desire to save Shigaraki in this version of the story (following my previous post) would came from the fact he found Tenko as a child after the Shimura house incident, and they grow to together since they were childs, practically rising him as his little brother. So he knew Tenko better than any other person and also knows how bad AFO influence can be.

Oh I forgot to mention but in this version we skip the body snatching plot point for Shigaraki, as I have other ideas in mind for what AFO would do in this version on the part of getting a perfect vessel.

[v4mp1r3bl0g]

This is the beginning of the end

Formula One x Final Destination AU

warnings: gore, death, blood, graphic descriptions of death

word count: 1.9k

summary: Logan’s premonition of a deadly rollercoaster ride saves his life and a lucky few, but not from death itself - which seeks out those who escaped their fate

authors note: I was bored and decided to combine my 2 favorite interests (I also went back and fixed some mistakes i realized i made)

do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

It was the senior carnival trip. Everyone was excited about graduating. Well everyone except Logan, that is. He still had no clue what he wanted to do after high school.

He kept procrastinating finding a career. Telling himself “he’d have more time” and now here he is a week away from graduating standing in front of Daniil Kvyat, snapping a shot of him playing the high striker.

“Lewis, Nico!” Logan called out towards the duo “For the yearbook!” he said before snapping a shot of them together.

Logan takes a look at the picture as the duo walks away, noticing a weird blur in the photo. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Before he could think much about it Oscar interrupts his thoughts.

“We should totally go and ride The Devil’s Flight, it’ll be so much fun!” Oscar exclaimed as he jumped around. Logan and the rest of the guys just laughed watching him in amusement.

Logan raised his camera and was about to take a picture when someone got in his way. “Excuse me,” he said, annoyed. To his surprise his younger brother Nicholas turned around glaring at him.

“Does mom know you’re here?” Logan asked, glaring back.

“You are a complete bitch if you tell her”, Nicholas growled.

Logan smirked, “The proof's right here.” He said teasingly as he held up his camera.

“Get a shot of this then”, Nicholas laughed sticking his middle fingers out, wincing as Logan took a picture.

Logan walked away catching up to his friends. Smiling as Jason called out to him “Take a picture of me holding the devil’s balls!” the brit said in a playful tone.

He giggled to himself as he snapped the picture, furrowing his brows as he noticed the weird blur again. He shook his head and decided to ignore it. As he continued walking Jason slung his arm around him. “Are you alright?” the older one asked.

Logan bit his lip as he stared up at Jason. “I have that weird feeling, like dejá vu, you know? except for something that hasn't happened yet.”

“Look, I know you, and I think that maybe you're nervous about this roller coaster. They say the real fear comes from the feeling of having no control.” Jason said as he gently caressed his face, reassuring the younger one.

Logan acknowledged the comment with a nod and continued walking, shivering as a gust of wind hit him.

“So I guess me and Logan are going in front?” Jason asked, making sure everyone was fine with that. Logan quickly turned to look at him, shaking his head. “Nuh uh I can’t do the front, I have to see the track or else I’ll like totally freak out”

“OK fine, you can ride in the back with Karter” Jason motioned, moving the two next to each other.

“No way I am NOT missing out on the fun just cause Logan’s scared, why don’t YOU ride in the back with him” Karter exclaimed, glaring at Jason.

“Don’t worry Logan, I’ll ride in the back with you” Oscar reassured him as he rolled his eyes at the older Brit’s.

Another gust of wind blew, making the hairs on the back of Logan’s neck stand up. He looked up at the giant devil statue and felt his blood run cold. He decided to ignore the feeling and got in line with the rest of the guys.

"”You’re in section 6,” the ride attendant called out, gesturing for them to move over to their designated area."

“Oh mega yuck,” Oscar shrieked as he touched a piece of gum that was stuck onto the ride. Logan couldn't help himself and busted out laughing. “That is so not funny, Logan,” Oscar mumbled as the ride attendant waved his hand in front of Logan.

“No cameras on the ride” he scoffed.

“Can I just put it in my pocket?” Oscar asked as he grabbed the camera from Logan, tucking it away.

“Yeah whatever”.

The ride started and Logan grabbed onto the seatbelt, closing his eyes for a second and exhaling.

Everyone starts cheering as the ride starts.

“You ok?” Oscar asked turning to look at Logan

“Yeah I’m fine” the oldest replied giving the aussie a half smile.

Everyone shrieked in excitement as the roller coaster went downhill, raising their arms in excitement

“Hey Lewis, say hi to the camera” Romain annoyingly called “You should lift up your shirt Nico, give my followers a nice view”.

“Can you fuck off mate” Lewis groaned as he slapped that camera out of Romains hands, making it fall causing it to wrap itself around the track.

“HEY! that camera was expensive” Romain moaned

“Not my problem” Nico replied as he rolled his eyes

The roller coaster turned into a loop and everyone screamed in joy, the rollercoaster took a few more loops and turns. Everything was going smoothly when all of a sudden it ran over the camera, causing the hydraulics to fail, liquid leaking out causing the ride to start malfunctioning.

“What the fuck!” Logan yells out as his seat belt lifts.

The screams of joy now turned into screams of terror as everyone’s seatbelts unclip themselves from the ride.

Oscar let out a yell as he clutched onto the seatbelt. His knuckles were turning white from the force of his grip, and a look of panic was etched onto his face.

At this point, everyone is terrified and holding on for dear life. The roller coaster goes downhill and takes a sharp turn to the right when suddenly the bar connecting the ride snaps in half, immediately disconnecting the front part of the roller coaster, sending Jason and Karter flying off the track and falling to their death.

The ride continues, going over a bump which causes Daniil to fly out of his seat. Oscar lifts up his seatbelt and reaches out to catch Daniil holding onto him as hard as he can, the coaster takes a turn causing a piece of the ride to come off and go flying straight towards Daniil causing him to collide with the metal bars holding up the ride.

Logan is using his arm to hold Oscar into place as the ride continues, going for a loop, when two of the wheels fall off causing the roller coaster to get stuck upside down. Mark and Sebastian scream in fear as they’re hanging onto the seatbelt of the ride.

“Hold on!” Logan yells out through tears at Sebastian as he starts to slip “I can’t” he yells back as he eventually loses grip and falls to his death, Mark following along. Two others fell behind them.

Logan is paralyzed in fear not knowing what to do anymore “Help me rock the coaster” Oscar yells at him as they both start rocking forward. The roller coaster eventually completes the loop going straight down but right as they are about to feel relief the metal bar that Daniil had previously collided with goes right through Oscar cutting him in half.

Logan screams out in terror as the ride falls off the track sending him plummeting to the ground. He closes his eyes as he accepts his faith when suddenly he wakes up looking at his surroundings with a tear stained face as the ride attendant waves his hand in his face “No cameras allowed on the ride”.

Logan gasps and reaches to grab Oscar’s hand as it touches the piece of the gum stuck on the ride.

“WE HAVE TO GET OFF OF HERE!” he yelled at Oscar right as the ride attendant was gonna push the GO button.

“NO DON’T PUSH THE BUTTON, DON'T PUSH THE BUTTON!” Logan sobbed out as he tried getting the seatbelt off, “LET ME OUT, LET ME OUT!” he continued screaming.

Oscar looked at him concerned as he reached to grab his hand “Logan it’s ok”

Logan was looking around panicked as he kept clawing at his seatbelt “NO IT’S GONNA CRASH, IT’S GONNA CRASH!”

“Logan?” Jason questioned as he heard him screaming all the way at the front of the ride

“THE HYDRAULICS WILL RUPTURE YOU HAVE TO LET US OFF PLEASE!”

Logan was practically begging at this point as he continued to sob. Eventually the security guy came “What’s going on?” he asked confused as he saw Logan freaking out “I don’t know, he’s on something” the ride attendant replied as he glared at Logan

“LET ME OFF PLEASE!”

“Alright let them out, but just the back” the security replied as the back row seatbelts lifted up. Logan ran out towards the security trying to speak through sobs.

“Whoa whoa relax, what’s the matter?” the security said trying to calm Logan down

“I saw it- I saw it in my head the tracks collapsed and the roller coaster collapsed-”

“No, he was just a little upset before” Oscar interrupted as he grabbed Logan trying to sooth him and calm him down.

“Man can you please control that bitch” Daniil said as he got out of his seat “It’s gonna crash the hydraulics the coaster” he said mimicking Logan's voice. “Man he’s just trying to get some fucking attention” Max scoffed staring at Logan and Oscar

“You know what you’re a real piece of shit Max, fuck you” Oscar replied as he walked up to Max

“Fuck Мне?, nah man fuck you!” Daniil yelled as Oscar pushed him causing him to elbow Sebastian in the face

Oscar and Daniil start throwing punches at each other as Mark got out trying to break the fight apart, Sebastian following right behind him

“Hey- Hey let me off” Jason exclaimed as he looked around trying to see what the commotion was

The manager dragged Logan and the rest out “Nobody else gets off this ride”

Jason turned towards the ride attendant with an annoyed look “Dude let me off”

“Sooo high school” Nico scoffed as he got off

“Let’s get out” Lewis replied as he followed after him

“Where are you guys going!” Romain called out as he followed the pair

Jason was starting to get annoyed at this point “Dude let me off I gotta make sure he’s ok” he huffed as he looked at the ride attendant again.

“Hey, Ho, Let’s go!” “Hey, Ho, Let’s go!” the crowd started to cheer trying to get the ride to continue

“Let me out dude, that’s my friend over there!” Jason exclaimed trying to get off the ride, the seatbelt not budging. Eventually the ride attendant gets the cue to continue and presses the GO button, as Logan turns his head he sees the ride moving, he freaks out and runs screaming at the ride attendant as everyone is dragging him back “STOP IT NO, STOP IT PLEASE PLEASE, THE TRACKS ARE BROKEN, STOP IT STOP IT PLEASE, JASON!” Logan sobbed out trying to get away from Oscar’s tight grip.

The security eventually drags Logan and Oscar away, shoving them towards the exit. Logan was a mess as he stumbled down the stairs forcefully trying to explain everything.

“Just settle down and listen, what is your home phone number we can call your mother and everything will be oka-“ right as the security was about to finish his sentence he got cut off by the sounds of screaming as the roller coaster crashed and sent everyone falling to their death.

“JASON!” Logan sobbed as he fell to the floor crying.

authors note: plz comment your opinions on my story and leave a “🎟️” if u would like to be tagged in the next part! thank u sm for reading i really hope you enjoyed it 😸

[universaln0b0dy]

Chloe Bourgeois (Mlb rewrite)

[Note] Hey, hey! I wanted to start rewriting and designing miraculous for the fun of it. Please note that this is just for fun and giggles! I will try to keep the rewrite as close to the show as possible, at the same time I want to put as much of my ideas into it as I can. Also this is probably an angst au, because of my 3 am brainrot.

Chloe Bourgeois

Chloe, Chloe, Chloe. Oh boy where do I start. Chloe could have been such a good character, especially since it was hinted at that she has actual trauma and has to move on from it, but that Astruc had to butcher into..... well what she is at the moment. Tbh, I wouldn't have minded if Chloe was more vile, but the show tried to do this waayyyy to late. So I will try to villanize Chloe and hand her a redemption arc!

Backstory:

Chloe grew up in paris and as far as she knew, her family always had been damaged and she knew it had something to do with her and her 3 years older sister Zoe. Chloe grew up rich and spoiled and up until she was 5 she also had a parental figure. Until her parents divorce.

Suddenly Chloe was alone, surrounded by money, but alone. She knew her sister had done something for her, a sacrifice that saved Chloe in more than one way. She claimed to be the child born out of wedlock.

Chloe's and Zoes mother had been cheating on Andre for years now and through a secret informant he found out that one of his children wasn't his, causing the divorce. Before that he had been a neglectful but I guess you could call it "loving" father.

He demanded to know which of his children wasn't his and told Audrey to leave with her. Audrey didn't remember who was Andre's kid and so Zoe decided to say she wasn't his child, so that Chloe would get the better half of two horrible parents.

Now the five year old Chloe had nothing except money. Her role model was her cheating and manipulative father and a mother who only cared about fame. Chloe would become narcissistic, spoiled, envious, power hungry and manipulative under her father and she acted like it.

Until her father introduced her to Adrien, who would become her friend. In Adrien she saw someone she wanted to protect and cared about, so she thought that was love.

When she was 10 she was introduced to Sabrina in school, who she immediately took as her servant. (Who she secretly cared about) During this time she also realized that inflicting fear gave her power over othersand she decided that picking Marinette as her subject of her bullying would be ideal. Chloe hated Marinette, who had caring parents and always looked so happy. Chloe wanted to see Marinette's smile falter. And while it brought her short lived joy, Chloe always felt empty afterwards, so she decided to do worse things.

It continues on, till season 3, when she finds the bee miraculous. She heard all about lady Bug and since she starts to care more and more about Sabrina, Chloe decides she will also become a secret hero in order to save others. For fame of course. (Keep telling yourself that)

Her Personality:

(Season 1-2)

Narcissistic and self centred. Chloe didn't care about anyone but herself, she had been the person to give herself love for years after all. No one did it for her, so why should she care about anyone else?

Manipulative. Yeah, she got that from her dad. He manipulates and blackmails people for his business, so she does that in school. She uses people's emotions to her advantage and while she doesn't sound like it she is people smart. (If she hadn't been so neglected and had such horrible role models, she could have been a very empathetic person)

Smart. Chloe is not stupid, just lazy. Yes others are forced to do her homework but she still aces every test, like even the teachers are suprised.

Envious. Yes, she is jealous of everyone around her. She wished she had nice parents, she wished she had her older sister, she wished she was good at designing, she wished she was good acting, so Chloe hates everyone who is able to do any of these things.

(Season 3)

BOOM! Redemption arc is starting. During a villain attach Sabrina gets injured and Chloe actually cared! For real! Chloe was devastated, she was crying! She was shocked to notice how powerless she is.

(As Queen bee)

Look, Sabrina's injury is the reason she decided to be a secret hero. This simple thing made Chloe's motive shift from fame, to I actually care.

Quick thinker and level headed. Remember that I said Chloe is smart? Well here all of that comes handy! Queen bee is witty and can point out flaws in lady Bugs plans. She also rarely panics during villain attacks.

Honest and kind. As Queen bee Chloe shows what she kept to herself. She is truthful about her faults as a hero and through a talk with lady Bug she realizes that she and the spotted hero have a few things in common.

Patient and forgiving. Yeah, with the miraculous Chloe is not Chloe anymore. If you saw Queen bee you would doubt she was Chloe, so it is no suprise she is patient and doesn't hold grudges with akumatised victims. You can tell her your whole life story and she will sit there and listen!

(As Chloe)

Chloe doesn't change that much, but you can feel Queen bee bleed into her personality. For example as she is forced to work with Marinette she other hears her speaking with her mum. "Oh? Isn't Chloe the girl you told us about? Glad you finally initiated getting along with her." Chloe knows a lot about people and that is not how parents should react if the bully of their daughter was present. Chloe decides that being nice to Marinette wouldn't hurt.

Chloe shows that she cares about Adrien and sabrina. For the former, through pointing out Marinette's creepy behaviour and for the latter by helping her study and buying her gifts. (According to Chloe: old rags she doesn't need anymore. Ignoring she forgot the price tag)

Happier. Chloe becomes happier more social, less I hate everything and everyone, so yay!

(Season 4-5)

So for the first part of season 4 chloe becomes very gloomy and sad, because she finds out why her sister had to leave and also finds out that she is the child born out of wedlock. Also she is incredibly angry that her father hid the letters Zoe send her from her and almost ruined chloe's chance to ever meet her sister again.

Confident and Sassy. Look, Chloe deserves to be confident and sassy, she is a superhero! And a good one at that, though lady Bug does take the miraculous from her, Chloe gets it back through Zoe!

Hopeful. Yeah, I am revealing way too much plot over here, but one of the side plot lines is that Zoe and Chloe get to talk again, because chloe is handed a letter by Audrey's assistant, which tells her about the other 900 letters- long story short, Zoe comes to paris to battle her father for custody over Chloe and Chloe Hope's she wins!

Mature. Chloe matures, just like all miraculous holders. She stops bullying Marinette and even starts doing her homework herself. She still has drawbacks to her her horrible personality, but she becomes a better person every day.

Drawing:

I'm way to crazy about this design, you might not like it, but I do.

Her every day outfit is simple, but tbh I like the idea that her outfit looks simple, but it's quite littarly all famous brands. I also forgot her glasses which kinda destroys me, but hey.

So for her costume, I based it all around the fact that Chloe is a QUEEN BEE. She isn't just any bee, she is a queen bee. Despite being mean, Chloe is a capable leader.

Well now that this is finished, I'll write Alya next. See you in our next drawting session!^^

[ninjas-and-coffee]

What I love rn about the Ninjago Live action panic is that it has almost nothing about the plot. It's about the collective and primal fear of Chris Pratt and whitewashing.

I have seen a couple plot posts, but like there was nothing to prepare us for the crackfic high-school au of the other movie. So I don't think there's any need to try and guess the plot.

Maybe we should make our own movie. Like guys, we could make the anime everyone lowkey wants from the creators. Almost everyone I know has some version of a plot fixing rewrite or retelling thats almost beat for beat with the source material. But like better with longer character arcs and more cultural accuracy.

Like besides humanity's allergy to group projects, why don't we just do it???.

Like I'll start with the basis of my retelling: S1 but with an already teenage Lloyd releasing the serpentine as a misguided attempt to gain his father's attention and being a shadow villain to the serpentine problem. Followed by a zuko style redemption arc when it is accidentally revealed that he's the green ninja in a combat situation.

The first half of the season is about the teams backstories and picking up the lore crumbs on the serpentine and why Garmadon and Wu separated while trying to figure out who has motive, and opportunity to release the serpentine. And since the Golden weapons are conduits for their power. Their true potential is learning to control their power separately from their weapons by becoming "whole" and reaching their full potential. The second half of the season reveals Lloyd's story and his shift from causing harm to gain attention to just asking for it and learning to be loved. (Yes, and sorry its Lloyd centric but he's the villain of the story untill...) Then the serpentine realize they're better together than apart and relase the Great Devourer and you essentially know the rest.

It would have a rather grim/serious tone and probably have some mixture of the demonslayer or attack on titan style. Leaning into the Japanese lore and possibly leaving hints about the nature of Oni and Dragons as more myth and legend than fact. Until a *minor god (the devourer) is released and this leaves the door open for other things to slowly become real. Personally I think the dragons could have been more sentient and revered than was shown, and I'd probably change Lloyd's name to be something Japanese with "Lloyd Garmadon" as a title he gave himself to be more like his father and it just sticks in the others minds so they keep calling him that until he's ready to shed that skin. I'd probably change the others names too or at least make them region specific. I hate hate hate childs play so I'd delete it. And Nya would take up her samurai training after being kidnapped so she doesn't feel like a burden on her brother. And uh Cole will be gay but due to the time period he feels unsafe telling others and learns to trust them. Also I'd probably kick the time period back to late Edo era Japan because the way of the ninja was still studied but becoming harder to come by. And gives a reason why there are no other Ninjutstu masters or students running around. So they're be reviving a somewhat dying art and be praised for it by commoners.

So now I ask. If YOU could retell Ninjago in a episodic anime how would you do it? What does it follow? What would you remove and why?

[just-some-gt-trash]

No time for rewrites

This is my gift for @naminethewitch for the @sanderssidesgiftxchange ! I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. She requested Intruloceit detective AU! So here it is!

Summary: After thinking they would never have to see each other again, Logan and Janus are forced to work together to prove the innocence of their newest client. Someone who both of them would recognize anywhere.

CW/TW: Swearing. Arguing. Remus being Remus. Sexual innuendos. Non graphic violence. Guns. Gunshots. Fire. Near death experience. Minor character death.

Logan adjusted his tie for what seemed like the hundredth time in the evening. What kind of person agrees to a blind date and then decides not to show up? Come to think of it, getting figurative cold feet in this situation actually seemed normal. Perhaps Logan should have done that instead of listening to his best friend, who insisted he was ready to date again. And now here he was, waiting for the person who made the reservation at the entrance of a fancy restaurant.

Logan glanced over at the clock hung on the wall. Maybe his nervousness was making him exaggerate. His date was only fifteen minutes late, not two hours like it had felt like.

"Oh you have got to be kidding me." 

A way too familiar voice right behind Logan snapped him out of his thoughts. No, it couldn't be. Turning around, Logan was met with the face of the person who was once his supposed dead boyfriend, Janus. "It looks like we are both not pleased with this situation, at least there is something we can agree on."

Janus rolled his eyes, and Logan couldn't help but stare at how the scar tissue on his ex's face tensed at the simple movement. "Please tell me that you're not here for a blind date."

Logan froze, of course Janus would be the only man in the city he would match with. Unbelievable, Janus had the audacity to lie and stay in hiding for years after faking his death, come back expecting Logan to welcome him with open arms, and now somehow managed to schedule a date with him. Logan would have guessed this was a desperate attempt to try and convince him to get back together if it wasn't for Janus's surprise. He could always be faking it.

Janus huffed, turning to walk out of the restaurant. “Lovely date, really. Please don't call me aga-”

As he tried to get out, Janus was blocked by a stranger who frantically entered the place, leaning roughly against the door as if he was trying to stop someone from getting in. Despite the sudden movement, it didn't look like this man was in the wrong place at all. The dark green suit he wore made him fit right in with the rest of the customers that were previously enjoying their meal before the interruption.

The stranger didn't seem to notice or care about the several pairs of eyes that landed on him, looking for who disturbed the quiet ambiance of the fancy place. He let out a long sigh, almost like a breath of relief, making the massy hairs of his mustache move ever so slightly.

He finally looked up, locking eyes with Janus and smiling brightly. His smile reminded Logan of a predator showing off their teeth to scare their prey, and if it wasn't highly improbable, Logan would have sworn this man had sharp teeth.

“You must be my date! Or at least I hope you are, because I would love to rip that expensive coat off you and destroy your a-”

An employee at the front of the restaurant cleared her throat, reminding this man that they were in a public space and even if everyone could hear his inappropriate fantasies, it didn't mean they wanted to. “Do you have a reservation, sir?”

“Ooh yes! It should be under R. Foley”

Even with his back facing Logan, he could still guess the expression on Janus's face, which was probably not that different from his own.

That was his reservation, their reservation. Logan watched as the man showed his ID to the restaurant's host. “Very well, table for three.” She grabbed three menus and made a sign for the men to follow her.

Table for three. Logan didn't have any time to process the implications of that phrase as the strange man turned to look at him, only now realizing he was staring.

He smirked, his mustache curling up as if it had a mind of its own. "You must be our third person, like what you see?"

Janus groaned next to them. "Did you seriously book a blind date with two people, without telling any of them?"

"Yeah! It's more fun this way!" The man took both Logan and Janus's hands, urging them to follow to their table.

Logan sighed as he let this man drag him. This wouldn't be too bad if it wasn't for Janus being here. The whole reason he wanted to go out was to finally be able to get over him, over what Janus did to him.

Still, neither of them found the will to object to their predicament. Logan wondered why. Was this man's -Remus, as he later introduced himself as- charm really that enticing to lure them in like a siren's song? Was Remus really radiating with such a powerful energy that it was able to dissipate the tension between Janus and Logan?

That seemed to be the case, because time went by without noticing. Unlike when he had first arrived, when fifteen mere minutes felt like hours, Logan had already ordered dessert after what felt like such a short time.

Remus's charisma was really working wonders on them, especially on Janus, who had opened up so easily in the span of one single evening.

Of course, most of what he casually mentioned were facts Logan already knew, but even when they were dating it had taken months for Janus to disclose such a great amount of personal information. Remus managed to achieve what Logan failed to do for months.

There was a hint of jealousy in Logan's heart, he was well aware of that. Not only because of the way Janus could easily flirt with the man who was supposed to be falling for both of them, but because of the clear chemistry between him and Remus. Logan would have felt out of place if it wasn't for Remus's constant encouragement for him to join and even lead the conversation, but he still couldn't help but feel like a third wheel.

Even with the amalgamation of confusing feelings, their evening was very enjoyable. Remus even managed to get Janus and Logan talking to each other, casually joking with each other like old friends.

Just when their last dishes were left on the table, as Remus was about to take a bite of the giant piece of chocolate cake he had ordered, the sound of loud police sirens started getting closer and closer, until it seemed like they stopped right outside the building.

Remus tensed up as soon as he heard the police getting closer, quickly and clumsily fumbling with his pockets, or rather, their contents. "Welp! This has been fun, wish we had time to bang." He took several crumbled dollar bills and threw them on the table.

Logan examined the one that landed closest to him, noticing it was a hundred dollar bill, and at first glance, he could see they all were. How many hundred dollar bills was Remus casually carrying around? 

Logan looked up at Janus, trying to figure out if his ex was just as weirded out by the situation as he was, just in time to see him catch a presentation card Remus had thrown at him like a shiruken. Another one of the same cards hit Logan on the side of his head, falling into the pastry he had yet to eat as he failed to catch it. Logan would blame it on being distracted, but he knew he wouldn’t have been able to catch it even if Remus had his full attention.

Logan could hear Janus snicker as he picked the card up, trying to clean jam that had stained part of the text but only managing to smear it.

“Call me, won’t you? I had the time of my life squeezing myself between whatever your weird sexual tension deal is!” Remus stood up before any of the other two could protest against that statement. “Do not fuck without me okay bye!”

And in the blink of an eye, Remus was out of sight, sprinting to the back of the restaurant.

Left alone in an uncomfortable silence, Janus called a waitress to come over to their table. “I’m getting my dessert to go. We can share Remus for all I care, but we shall never have a date like this again.”

Logan sighed, considering his options for a moment before nodding. “Yes, that would be appropriate considering the circumstances.”

Both men were convinced any hope of any sort of spark reigniting was extinguished that night. Still, Janus couldn’t help but glance back at Logan as they headed in opposite directions. Thinking that was the end of it, Janus walked back home with a creme brulee securely stored in a styrofoam container.

But that was far from the end of their story.

“I refuse to believe this is another coincidence,” Logan stated, looking straight into the eyes of his ex-lover.

-------------------------------------------------------

“Oh yes, because I’m thrilled to see you as well, Logan.” If Janus’s grip on his briefcase’s handle got any stronger, the whole thing might crack open.

Logan huffed, an immature action, but Janus was an expert at getting all sorts of emotions out of him. “I was under the impression you no longer worked on assassination cases?”

Janus simply ignored his question, walking right past Logan over to the front desk of the police station. “Detective Adder, here to investigate the murder of Mister Underwood.”

Logan couldn’t even roll his eyes, childish as ever. He cleared his throat as he walked closer. “You must be mistaken. I’ve been hired to investigate Mister Underwood’s death.”

“You? Wasn’t your last murder case a poisoned dog?”

Logan struggled to show no reaction to the derogatory comment. “Someone close to the victim solicited my services. She is convinced the man arrested for the crime is not guilty, and the real culprit is still out there. There should be a scheduled visitation with the suspect.”

The guy at the front desk, clearly unamused with the rivalry since he didn’t even bother to look up from his computer, replied in a monotonous voice. “There is a visitation scheduled under K. Underwood for two people.”

Janus scoffed. “That is impossible, Mrs. Underwood entrusted only me with this investigation.

“It appears that she didn’t trust your abilities alone and decided to hire someone more qualified to fill the spaces where you would, figuratively, fall flat.” Logan replied, adjusting his tie.

“Look, either you both go in or no one does. Hurry up and decide, so I can go back to work in peace.”

Both detectives let out a sigh at the same time, glancing briefly at each other before nodding.

The front desk guy called a guard in, and they escorted them to the private room reserved for them.

Logan stayed silent as they walked. Janus, however, still had many thoughts to voice about the situation. “I do not need a partner. I cannot believe that rich bitch didn’t inform me she had hired someone else.”

“That ‘rich bitch’, as you call her, is still grieving for her husband. I would have made sure to have the best possible detective investigating to guarantee the real culprit gets a proper sentence,” Logan replied, deciding to contribute to Janus’s complaints.

Logan heard how Janus almost laughed, but was quickly able to suppress the urge. “What happened to Mr. I work alone? Is now really when you finally let me help with a case?”

Logan stopped as the guard closed the door behind them, walking off to get the suspect. “I did not need your help then, and I do not need it now, but I can't go against the customer’s orders. If Mrs. Underwood hired both of us. I trust she has a good reason for it."

Janus stayed silent for way too long, finally letting out a dramatic and elongated groan. “Fine. This is a business matter, and I’m more than capable of working through it.”

A loud buzzing sound echoed through the room before Logan could reply. The door at the other end of the room opened, dragging the heavy metal against the already worn-out floor.

The sound of chains moving around was muffled by a male voice, who casually chatted with the guard about the prison’s food. “Seriously dude, best delicacies I’ve ever tasted! Say, do you know if they have delivery? I’ll definitely want more of this once I get-”

The suspect’s eyes landed on both detectives, who couldn’t seem to catch a break as the day kept hitting them with more surprises. “Well hello there! You two took your sweet time to call me.” Remus smiled brightly, making his mustache curl up in that enticing way that always managed to draw Logan in. He raised his arms, the chains keeping his arms contained rattled with the movement. “I would have preferred to see you again without these, but we can definitely work around them, or with them if that’s more your style.”

Janus pinched the bridge of his nose. “There better be a hidden camera in here because this is way too much of a coincidence.”

“At least there is something that we can agree on.” Logan took a deep breath and stepped forward, leaving his briefcase on the table in the middle of the room. “I am afraid neither Janus nor I are here to resume our encounter from the other night. Please, Remus, take a seat.”

Remus’s expression dropped as Logan explained, but he still obeyed and sat down. “Please, this wouldn’t be the weirdest place where I’ve had sex. We can definitely keep the party going!”

“You are the primary suspect in the murder of one of Florida’s biggest jewelry companies owner, and having sex with two men who you've been on one date with is your main priority?”

“Duh,” Remus shrugged, “that asshole I got as a lawyer won’t believe a word I say. If I get the electric chair or whatever, then I want to enjoy myself before I get my one-way ticket to hell.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, sitting on one of the chairs at the opposite edge of the table. “Are you implying our suspicions are correct, and you are not responsible for Mr. Underwood’s death?”

“Right on the money, nerdy Wolverine.”

Janus opened his briefcase, pulling out the pictures of the crime scene. “Do you recognize this place?”

Remus looked at the pictures as they were laid in front of him. He placed a hand on his chin, forcing the other one to follow due to the handcuffs. "Yeah! That’s The Plume!”

“The Plume? Is there anything that could link you to this place?” Logan wanted to be the first to start questioning Remus, even if he was wondering how Janus got those pictures in the first place. But that wasn’t relevant at the moment. If his companion had resources Logan could use to his advantage, he wouldn’t question it.

Remus almost snorted at the question. “Link me to it? I know the place better than my own dick! I was practically raised there! My parents had some gambling issues or whatever and the owner agreed to take me as payment. Uncle Sleep taught me everything I know!”

“And that gives you every reason to be at the crime scene when the murder happened.” Janus finally took a seat next to Logan, and the other detective was surprised when neither moved their chairs away.

“Yeah, doesn’t mean I did it.” Remus crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair. “It’s a casino, do you know how many bodies we’ve seen? Those fancy rich men don’t like it when you owe them money. That gives you a first-class ticket to your death sentence.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. How many crimes have been committed in this place? And how many of them had gone unreported or unsolved? “Your involvement with The Plume is not the only reason you’re locked up.” He opened his own briefcase, resisting the urge to give Janus an ‘I can do it too’ look, and took several documents out.

“The cause of death was an unidentified toxin. Whatever it was, it’s rare enough to go under forensic radar, if they were using technology from the 80’s. When the police were looking for clues, your laptop was confiscated in order to look at the security footage. They went a step further and registered your internet search history instead.” Logan slid the paper across the table, intending to give it to Remus. It was, however, intercepted by Janus.

The detective scanned through the paper, snickering at the apparent coincidences. “You’re the only person I know who would be stupid enough to give this much evidence to the police.” Janus turned the document to show it to Remus, pointing as he read. “Fastest acting toxins. Flavorless poisons. Most poisonous plants in the U.S. How to poison someone without being caught? Seriously?”

Remus squinted to look at the evidence that incriminated him. “That’s what this is about? My stupid research?” Remus huffed, leaning back again and almost knocking his chair over. “I knew it was a waste of time! No one cares about accuracy in murder stories! But no, that stupid editor said my first draft was too unrealistic.”

“What are you talking about?”

Janus groaned. “Don’t tell me this is what I think it is.”

Logan looked between both men, his mind not being able to figure out the information both of them seemed to know. “What? What is it that he’s not telling us?”

Janus looked into the inner pocket of his coat, pulling out the presentation card Remus had given them on their date night. “I kept wondering what ‘Arranger of textual nightmare fuel’ meant.” He looked over at Logan. “I thought you of all people would figure it out. Looks like the rat man over here wasn’t getting a second date from you.”

Logan was quick to prove Janus wrong, pulling out the presentation card and ignoring how they were both carrying Remus’s contact information. He set it down on the table next to the one Janus had just pulled out. “The words on mine are smudged. As much as I love blackberry jam, I must admit it is quite a pain to clean up.”

Logan stared at the clean card for a moment, trying to pull apart the words and decipher them. Then something clicked in his mind. “You’re an author.”

“No shit Sherlock.” Remus twisted his mustache between two fingers. “With those police men looking through my laptop like they were trying to find the clit, I’m surprised they didn’t find my manuscript! Could have given me an honest review before sentencing me to die of boredom!”

“This is the most cliché case I’ve ever worked on.” Janus leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Are these Google searches related to said manuscript?”

Remus stood up abruptly, not giving the detectives any heads up as he jumped on the table, which miraculously didn’t break. “1979! A retired mafia boss is dedicating his life to preserving every plant at risk of extinction. After years of growing familiar with both the positive and negative effects of several toxins, just as he is ready to share his discoveries with the world, his old nemesis finds and murders his family! And now he seeks revenge! Will he be able to keep his humanity? Or realize the entire human race is doomed to an existence of cruelty?!”

The sound of the large metal door being dragged open was mostly muffled by Remus’s maniac laugh. The guards barged in and took the chain man from his arms, pulling him down from the table.

Such a passionate outburst. Good thing the officers were too busy with Remus to notice the blushing detectives struggling to maintain their professionalism.

Logan cleared his throat. “Wait, we are not done with the interrogation.”

“This man was going to attack you, and you want to stay longer in this room with him?” One of the guards spoke as they pulled Remus out the door.

“Ooh, harder please.”

“That was not an attack.” Janus stood up, walking over to the guards to stop them from taking the suspect. “A simple energy outburst is not enough to frighten or hurt us. We were promised all the time we needed as long as it was within visitation hours.”

The guard sighed, pulling on Remus’s chains and shoving him towards the detectives. “If you want to put your security at risk, be my guest. But if another one of those outbursts happens, we’ll be obligated to take the prisoner away.”

Remus almost bumped into Janus, but was able to stabilize himself before that. “I’ll be good! Or daddy and daddy can punish me if I’m naughty!”

The other guard made a disgusted noise as both of them walked out, closing the door again.

Logan sighed, gesturing for Janus and Remus to come close again. “If what you’re telling us is true, Mr. Underwood’s cause of death is way too much of a coincidence. Someone wanted to frame you, and they knew exactly how to do it. Did you share your story with anyone aside from that editor you mentioned?”

“Oh yeah! I give a copy to anyone who gets too drunk at The Plume! But most never come back for some reason.”

Both detectives groaned. That just left too many possibilities, too many suspects.

“We’re going to have to get you out of here.”

“Why is there always a fire involved when you are around?”

-------------------------------------------------------

Janus scoffed, raising his hands up as if Logan’s glare could shoot him. “I was with you the whole time! And I only have one fire in my crime history. Thank you very much.”

In any other circumstance, Remus would have laughed or at least giggled at the scene. He would have admired how the flames danced around spreading chaos while his fuck-toys argued as background noise.

Any other circumstances didn’t involve The Plume being the fire’s victim.

As filthy and sketchy as the place could look, this was Remus’s home, the place that raised him. And he could only watch from the backseat of a minivan.

Remus simply sighed. “There goes the tickets and client records. Now what, lovebirds?”

“If the fire department is not here yet, then the fire was ignited not that long ago. The culprit couldn’t have gone far.” Logan took an instant camera out of his bag, snapping a quick picture of the burning casino. “We should drive around and see if Remus recognices any person passing by.”

Janus started the van, not waiting for Logan to order him around. “Exactly what I was going to suggest.”

It took an hour of constant arguing for Remus to finally have enough of this situationship Logan and Janus had. 

“A’right, you two bickering my ears out is fun the first half hour, but come on! Do you really hate each other’s guts that much? I can’t even concentrate on people’s faces with your voices pulling on my brain until it bleeds!” Remus leaned forward, poking his head through the space between the two front seats. “Stop the car, pretty please.”

Janus and Logan shared a look, sighing but keeping their mouths shut this time.

The minivan stopped right in front of a convenience store. “So, I’m putting you two in timeout while I get some snacks for the road trip. Cool? Cool”

Janus pressed the button to lock the doors and looked back at Remus through the review mirror. “Not so fast. You’re under our care. We were allowed to take you out of prison as a witness, under the condition we would get you back before your final trial. One of us has to go with you.”

Remus tsked, slowly shaking his head. “Fat chance, inspector gadget.” He pulled on the car’s lock and opened the door, stepping out before any of the detectives could stop him.

“Remus this is not-” Logan was just about to follow him, but even with the door opened, there was something else preventing him from going further. He looked back to find his right hand handcuffed to Janus’s left, trapping them with each other.

Remus closed Logan’s door, leaning on the edge of the opened window. “Those are your get-along handcuffs. They go out when I come back.”

Janus raised his hand, staring at their situation in disbelief. “Were you able to take them off this whole time?!”

“I’m full of surprises, Janny!” Remus grinned, reaching to rub his wrist. “They were starting to ache too much, but I kept them on since you were like super paranoid about me escaping. And now you two need them more than me!

Logan grabbed Remus with his free hand. “Remus, we are trying to get you out of jail. Come back inside and take the handcuffs off.”

Remus simply pried Logan’s hand off him, stopping for a second to leave a gentle kiss on it. “Relax L. Why would I want to run away from such cuties? Until we get some actual action, you two won't get rid of me that easily.” Remus let go, taking advantage of Logan’s flustered state to lean forward and take the detective’s wallet out of his jacket. He turned around to walk towards the store. “Be back soon!”

Janus tugged on Logan’s hand, trying to get a closer look at the handcufs’ lock. He only got a tug back in return. “Cut it out already. These petty and childish actions are what got us into this situation in the first place.”

Logan scoffed. “Oh, I am the petty one? Are you going to drop the act and tell me how you managed to sneak into my case? Or will you keep pretending this is a coincidence?”

“It is a coincidence! Why would I want to work with someone who hates my guts? Who can’t even look me in the eye anymore?”

“And whose fault is that?” 

As much as Logan hated to admit it, Janus was right. He understood he could physically have a conversation eye to eye with his ex-boyfriend, but there was something else that kept him from actually doing it. Even now, in the middle of an argument, Logan stared at the street in front of them, focusing on anything but Janus.

Janus, on the other hand, couldn’t focus on anything but Logan. No one else would be able to read the man’s expressions, thinking his resting face was always the same every time, but Janus knew where to look.

The vein that popped on his forehead meant that Logan was annoyed. His eyes curved slightly downwards when he was sad. He adjusted his tie when he was nervous. Small traits and actions that everyone else would miss, but not Janus. Janus knew him too well.

“I could ask you to forgive me a million times, but with the way I hurt you, you have every right to reject them.” Janus looked away, staring at the street as if he was trying to decipher what Logan found so interesting about it. “We don’t have to see each other again after the case is over. I can move to another city and leave you and Remus alone. Stop with the coincidences and blind dates.”

Logan sighed, for once unable to find the words to reply. He wanted to scream, to yell at Janus and let out all this rage he'd been bottling up ever since he reappeared. Logan wanted to make sure Janus knew just how much it hurt, how much Logan hated the feeling of loneliness he left behind. But losing his temper would be counterproductive. 

“Remus makes a very good point. We will accomplish nothing if we keep getting distracted with nonsense bickering.” Logan wanted to get over with this as long as possible, get the payment he was promised and go back to his life alone.

“Whatever our relationship is, with each other and with Remus, it is not important right now. If I am more than capable of figuring out this case on my own, together we can find the real culprit twice as fast.”

Janus rolled his eyes, trying to hide the smile that was forming on his face. “You were always a better detective anyway. I was only dragged along when you used to let me get involved.”

“Falsehood. You have many more solved cases in your professional life than I.”

“Only because yours always had a dead end, not even the brightest minds could find their way out of it.” Janus glanced down at their handcuffed hands. “You need to stop being so hard on yourself. Those deaths or disappearances weren’t your fault,” Janus finally gathered enough courage to grab Logan’s hand. “None of them.”

Logan’s first instinct was to pull back, to pull strongly enough to break the dam handcuffs and be able to run away. But he didn’t, he only stared at Janus’s hand over his for what felt like hours.

Should he let his guard down and let Janus explain? Every time he tried to contact him, Logan only closed the door on his face, hung up the phone, blocked the number. Whatever the reason was, Logan didn’t want to hear it. What could possibly make you abandon the one you claimed was the love of your life?

Before any of them could speak, Remus rushed into the car. He dropped the several bags of chips and canned sodas on the minivan’s floor. “That chick! With the Dr. Pepper bottle!”

Remus pointed at the store’s exit through the window, successfully pulling the detectives out of their conversation. “She came to The Plumme a couple of weeks ago. Poor girl thought I was straight and wanted a fun night. Gave her a discount and a copy of my book instead.”

“Well, it’s the only lead we have.” Janus let go of Logan to start the car, stopping when he realized he was still restrained. Janus gave Remus an annoyed glance.

“Oh right, that.” Remus reached forward, removing the handcuffs way too quickly for the detectives to figure out how he did it. And just as quickly as he took them off, they were locked around Remus’s wrists again. “What are we waiting for? Go!”

-------------------------------------------------------

Turns out, following a random girl in a white minivan wasn’t the best way to go unnoticed. 

The girl had been able to figure out there was someone following her, which resulted in a full-on persecution. Janus had been forced to park the van once she ran off into an alley, and Logan and Remus rushed after her.

Remus completely misunderstood the idea of following someone without them noticing, or simply chose to ignore it. “Let me ask you something.” 

Logan sighed, even knowing Remus as little as he did, it was enough to know he wouldn’t shut up. “Go on, quietly.”

“Why are you working on my case together? I don’t know what your deal is, but I haven’t heard you say anything remotely nice to each other, not even when we had dinner. Why be partners if you can’t stand each other?”

“It wasn’t our choice. Mr. Underwood's wife hired both of us, for some ridiculous reason.” Logan still couldn’t believe how his work alone wasn’t enough to satisfy Mrs. Underwood. 

“That’s impossible,” Remus stated, still following close behind Logan. “His wife died like five years ago. He really fucked his gambling game that night, and we gained a shit ton of money.”

Logan stopped, so abruptly that Remus didn’t have time to stop himself before bumping into Logan. If Mrs. Underwood was dead, then who hired them?

“Looking for someone?” 

A female voice was Logan’s only warning before a sharp pain on his nape made his vision blurry and his legs weak. 

Logan tried to lean against Remus, a wall or anything that was within reach, but his mind was getting foggier with each second. Logan fell to his knees as he heard the apparently distant sound of a fight. He couldn’t figure out what was going on, his only clues being Remus’s groans and the sound of something -someone?- being punched.

Whatever was going on, Logan didn’t have enough strength to keep himself awake.

The pain in the back of his neck had mostly dissipated by now. Whatever he was hit with was only effective in leaving him unconscious for most likely a short amount of time.

-------------------------------------------------------

Logan tried to touch the wound, wanting to make sure it wasn’t bleeding, but found his hands once again restrained, this time by a rope.

Next to him, Remus’s familiar groans made Logan realize the man next to him was in a similar predicament. Great, they had been kidnapped.

Logan squinted as he looked around. Despite still having his glasses, his vision and all his other senses were numbed by the strong burnt smell this place had.

Reaching down to touch the ground, Logan could notice it was still warm.

There wasn’t much to see once his vision cleared, only the remains of some sort of establishment. Every piece of damaged furniture was covered with ash, and as Logan coughed he noticed the slight tints of smoke still in the air.

Looking up at the high ceiling above them, Logan found something that confirmed his suspicions. A cracked LED sign, long turned off that read “The Plume”

Logan tried to look back, catching a glance of brunette and white hair flopping around as Remus struggled. “Remus?”

“You’re awake!” 

Logan could have sworn the pilar they were tied to moved with how strong Remus’s pull on their restraints were. “What is going on?”

“I could ask you the same thing, detective.” That same female voice from the alley made itself present, accompanied by footstapes that echoed through the burnt casino.

Once the girl stepped in front of him, Logan could actually try and take a good look at her. She was young and thin. Her fragile-looking frame and blonde ponytail made her look like an innocent teenager.

“Impressive work you have here.” She dropped one of the pages with a copy of Remus’s search history in front of Logan. “You have no evidence, and yet, you somehow found your way to me.”

“And who may you be? If I’m allowed to know.” Logan looked down at the discarder page, just in time to see a high-heel boot pressing down on it.

The girl giggled, “if you have no idea, how did you follow me all the way here?”

“Thanks to me, darling!” Remus yelled from the opposite side of the column. “You just made such a good impression the first time we met. Heck, you may have straightened me out!”

She scoffed. “I should have known you would be stupid enough to mix us up.”

“Us?”

A loud bang announced the presence of another girl as she walked towards them. “Found this one lurking around, another detective.”

Janus groaned as his captor pushed him to the floor, right in front of Logan.

This second girl was a lot more muscular than the first, but they were the same height and most likely the same age. Given the fact that their faces were identical.

Twin number two, as Logan labeled them in his brain, blew a strand of hair out of her face as she looked towards the tied man. Logan could swear he saw her expression changing for a second the moment their eyes locked, looking almost scared.

The other girl turned to face Janus, pulling on his hair to take a better look at him. Logan could observe the same expression her sister had just a moment ago, once again vanishing as quickly as it formed. She threw Janus back to the floor. “I didn’t know you tried to hook up with the book guy.”

Number two scoffed, “Because I knew you would start acting crazy about it. Sue me for having a terrible gaydar.”

“There’s two of them?! Come on! Can you have this conversation in front of me?!” Remus kicked his legs, as if the pillar would actually move. “You know, where I can actually see what’s going on?!”

“There’s no need.” Twin number one spoke, “it’s not like you’ll be able to testify with your tongue turned to ashes.” She snapped her fingers, and twin number two walked out of the room.

Number one crouched to be eye level with Logan and Janus, who had his hands and ankles tied together. “Looks like someone didn’t believe our murderer’s story and sent you two to snoop around. What gave it away, huh? Did we choose a way too incompetent guy for our bad guy?Is it really so hard to believe that he could murder an Underwood?” She stood up, walking around to face Remus. “I thought he looked the part.”

Remus grinned. “Thanks! The whole serial killer aesthetic is what I try to go for!”

Janus looked over at Logan, shifting his sight between his wrist and the girl who had them trapped once he made sure to have his ex’s attention.

Logan seemed to catch the hint, making sure to look at the girl's wrist once she circled back around to them.

Twin number one chuckled at Remus’s comments. “I thought everyone would overlook that lost puppy look you naturally have. I’m surprised to see I was wrong.”

Logan’s vision of the girl's bracelet around her wrist was limited due to the long-sleeved blouse she wore, but the Underwood’s family emblem was easy to distinguish, so unique and extravagant that it would be impossible not to recognize it.

As twin number two walked in, carrying a plastic gasoline can, Logan was able to take a better look at the bracelet. Matching jewelry with the Underwood’s emblem, accompanied by a golden letter “K” charm.

Janus chuckled. “You thought you were so clever, didn’t you? Shifting the blame to Remus, thinking he’d be sentenced for your father’s death.”

Both twins froze, and number one glared down at Janus. “How did you-”

“That is not important,” Logan stated as he looked up at the teenagers. “That part was easy to deduce, but, why would you hire us to solve the crime you committed?”

Something seemed to click on the twins’ minds as they turned to look at each other. “You hired a detective?!” They asked in unison.

Huh, that solves the double booking question.

“Oh you little shit.” Twin number one reached behind her to grab a gun, pointing it at her sister. “I knew I couldn’t trust you, you wanted to be the only heiress from the beginning.”

“You’re one to talk.” Twin number two placed the gasoline can in front of her, trying to use it as a shield. “Killing dad was your idea. Why arrange this whole ordeal if he wanted only one of us to have his fortune in the first place?”

Number one tsked, not lowering the gun. “You knew what dad’s conditions were. There was no way I would get married before you. Even a gay guy thinks you’re attractive!”

“Nah.” Remus’s voice cut through the twins’ argument as he walked around the pillar. “I was just bluffing.”

Remus gave no other warning before launching towards twin number one, trying to grab her hand and take the gun from her.

Logan and Janus had no time to be surprised at Remus’s ability to free himself, again, they had to figure out how to do it before the fight between the twins and Remus shifted to them. 

Logan made his best effort to push himself up with only his legs, leaning against the column he was tied to for support. Janus, on the other hand, tried to wiggle his ankles free so he could stand.

And then, a gunshot.

Logan closed his eyes instinctively, afraid of what he might find when he opened them. The detective heard a thud, and someone gasping for air, a high pitched voice.

Letting out a relieved sigh, Logan opened his eyes to see twin number two on the floor. Her plan of using the red can as a shield failed as he had predicted, seeing as it laid next to her with two holes on either side, letting the heavy-scented liquid spill out.

Logan expected to hear cries, or any sort of sound from twin number one that showed at least some remorse for husting his sister. But instead, she started laughing. “How is that for weak and defensless, Kara?”

Remus used that moment of distraction to kick number one’s hand, making her drop the gun. Remus kicked it far before she could pick it back up. “You’re done. You will rot in jail like you wanted me to.”

She huffed, looking at the three men. “Oh, I’m so scared. You still think you have the upper hand. How cute.” 

Twin number one ran to pick up the gasoline can, and kept running until she reached The Plume’s main entrance. Having been too distracted by the twins’ fight, they failed to notice the pile of dynamite where number one was now dumping the rest of the gasoline. “My dad and sister wanted to keep me from what’s rightfully mine. Look where that got them. Do you think I’ll have mercy for a bunch of strangers?”

She took out a lighter from her back pocket. “Say hello to my father when you rot in he-”

Remus’s fist shut her up as he punched her in the face. “Why does everyone think dramatic villain speeches work?”

Number one punched back, and they started fighting once again.

The detectives were able to stand up, but Janus still had his ankles tied. He had to half shuffle half jump to Logan. “I’ll try to undo the knot on your hands.”

Logan only nodded, not being able to take his eyes off Remus. He wouldn’t last long with all the damage he had already received, and Logan was trying to find a different escape route or something nearby they could use as a weapon, anything to keep Remus from-

Boom.

.

.

Janus was able to free Logan’s hands before the explosion.

.

.

Logan undid Janus’s restraints once he was free.

.

.

The explosion caused the ceiling over the main entrance to fall, blocking it.

.

.

Remus was on the other side, safe from the flames.

.

Logan covered his face with his hand, trying to stop the fast-forming smoke from entering his lungs. If he hadn’t been able to find a way out before, the flames and ashes made it impossible now.

He felt a hand on his back, Janus’s hand. His ex pulled him down to the floor, forcing Logan to lay on his stomach. “Stay down, we can crawl to an exit.”

“Right, because you’re an expert at surviving fires.”

Janus groaned. “Is now the time to make me feel guilty?”

“We are trapped in a burning building!” Logan yelled, coughing afterwards. “If we’re going to die, I’d say the time is as best as it's going to get.”

“Fine,” Janus spoke after a minute of silence. “If you want us to waste oxygen in this, be my guest.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “You wanted to explain, didn’t you? Then explain, Janus. What could possibly be the reason you decided to let everyone believe you were dead, and abandon me?!”

“I didn’t abandon you!”

“Really? Because disappearing for four years and leaving me to grief the love of my life sounds like abandonment to me.” Logan turned around, laying on his back and trying to look up among the smoke.

Janus sighed, trying to find the words to reply, to explain. “I wasn’t supposed to be gone that long.”

“Is that the best excuse you have?”

“Would you let me finish?”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

Janus coughed. They didn’t have much time for this. “The last case I worked on led me to very dangerous people, all because I followed the clue you warned me about.” That last comment wasn’t to stroke Logan’s ego, it was true. Janus had been stupidly impulsive and ignored Logan’s judgment, and that only brought problem after problem.

“They threatened to hurt you. I tried to get them off my back for months, to collect enough evidence to prove they were guilty, but they only got closer and closer to us. Your brother almost died in an accident they caused. I couldn’t risk them going after you.”

Alright, that was a slightly better excuse.

Logan sniffed and fakely coughed, trying to blame the smoke and heat for his tears. “Why didn’t you tell me? What I said before was true. You and I could solve any case twice as fast.”

“I wanted to protect you and panicked,” Janus rubbed his eyes as they started to sting. “The plan was to have everyone believe I was dead, solve the case and go back to you. But it was a lot harder than I anticipated. I went to you as soon as those people were behind bars, where they couldn’t hurt you.”

“And I didn’t want to listen.”

Janus snickered. “I wasn’t going to mention it, but yes, you refused to listen.”

Logan coughed, for real this time. He could feel his throat aching more and more with each second. “I had never felt such an intense amount of sadness. Every day for four years, I felt like a piece of my heart had been pulled out, as ilogical as it was. I couldn’t logic my way out of it. And when I felt like I was doing better, there you were, a ghost in my doorway. The sadness turned to rage. I suffered for so long, I cried so much, and it was all for nothing. You were alive, and I wasted so much time thinking I would never see you again.” Logan closed his eyes, letting the urge to yell and be angry wash away with the ash that covered him.

“It wasn’t fair to you. I get that. I wanted us to be together more than anything and I didn’t even consider how my decision would make you feel. I thought we could go back to what we had, like nothing happened.” Janus sighed, letting the tears roll down his cheeks. “I’m sorry, Logan.”

Logan couldn’t keep talking. His throat hurt, his eyes stung. He could only reach and grab Janus’s hand, weakly intertwining their fingers.

Janus closed his eyes, feeling Logan’s pulse and the way their hearbeats synced one last time.

.

.

.

Logan was awakened by the sound of sirens.

.

.

Janus laid next to him as the paramedics treated them.

.

Remus’s voice kept them grounded. It gave the detectives a reason not to give up.

.

.

And they didn’t

“I told you I knew every corner of that place!” Remus stood next to Logan’s hospital bed, leaving the bouquet he bought in a vase on the bedside table. “I couldn’t let you two in there to die without me!”

-------------------------------------------------------

Logan chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “You are the craziest guy I’ve dated.”

Remus sat next to Logan and held his hand, stroking his thumb over the scars that now covered the detective’s forearm. “But you looove me, like you love Jan Jan!”

“Love is a strong word, Remus.” Logan smiled softly as he blushed. He looked up, spotting the face of the person who was once his supposed dead boyfriend, alive and well, giving him that smile that had made Logan fall for him in the first place. “But we’ll get there. A second date would be a great start.”

[imagionationstation]

I HEARD YOU TAKE UNHINGED HEADCANON RANTS AND THIS GAYASS FISH HAS RUINED MY LIFE

I have a 2012 rewrite au, and I fell down a rabbit hole solely based on the hc that Xever saw shredder as a vague father figure, and then like all of his interactions with Karai are always “Do you want me to call dad?” “I will kill you?!” “Alright..”

THEY ARE SIBLINGS AND YOU CANT TELL ME IM WRONG

Also there’s enough problematic men in the foot, so I just… hit him w the “I’m not a creep!” ray and he’s just some dude

This is a theatre kid, this man is a professional yapper. Shredder’s mad at him? Turn the conversation around to how sad shredders life is and that he shouldn’t have to be forced to commit atrocities because of Hamato Yoshi. He’s a pr girlie

Also, WHYS HE SO ZESTY????

“I HEARD YOU TAKE UNHINGED HEADCANON RANTS”

Okay, firstly, what grape vine is talking about me and why?

Secondly-

Can you headcanon your own AU?? Is that possible?? Is that a thing people do?? All the potential to say “I think this would be a neat canon” but isn’t not actually canon- this sounded better with every word that came out of my mouth. I am doing this.

AU HEADCANONS, BABY.

I AM THE AU COLLECTOR AND COMMENTER

(Evidently. I’m not sure how that happened, tbh-)

GIMME EVERY AU CONCEPT YOU GOT SO I MAY FEAST

Fair warning to all- when I am invested in a idea, I don’t know how to shut up. So. If you give me an ask, you’re agreeing to everything that comes after. I am not liable for incoming rants.

Xever is all kind of zesty (in AU and canon) because it makes him notable and fun!

I love so many interactions with him and Raphael in canon. There was no better character for him to “understand” than Xever, mkay, I absolutely loved how Baxter's Gambit was handled. They would have been SUCH a duo had they not chosen different sides to fight on and HECK YEAH with the Shredder father figure AU.

In the canon, I wondered about a few things a lot- like, Shredder hunted this man down and broke him out of jail to join his crime syndicate. And for someone who’s supposed to be the best of the best, that man is no match for the turtles. Got to wonder why Shredder wasted his time on Xever or bothered keeping him around after he got mutated when he was such a hassle as a fishy…

He even went as far as keeping a kidnapped scientist to build working legs and breathable air suit for the guy. Like, in all seriousness, for a big evil crime lord who threatens to off them every day, he sure is intent on keeping his lackies around.

BUT ANWAYS-

In regards to your AU, THANK YOU for taking away his creep act because that’s the main reason that he’s not a top fave for me. I don’t know why they reversed the “I’m not a creep” ray for canon, but I guess it was an experiment that they took way too far and couldn’t bring themselves to back out of.

As Karai is an expert manipulator, I’d like to know if she gets her skills from him or if he does from her- or if they adapt from each other. He feeds into the dad’s drama while Karai could not be more fed up with it. The clash over this topic so often. I can see it.

I think it would be ironic for Karai to have an older brother figure who eventually gets brought into the found family because Leo would have to adapt to having MORE older relatives. I like the idea of Xever being a “cousin”, because that would technically make her a cousin too, and Karai sure acts like she’s more of a bossy cousin than an older sister. So it works out.

NO WAIT

Xever has a villain name, right? 😱

Mikey has to villain name a villain mutant- it’s like, 2012TMNT law.

BEING AN AU IS NO EXCUSE /jk

(Completely messing with you. Do as you want.)

[dr-rabbit-3]

Hiiiiii sooo I really should be writing the butterfly au right nowwww

but I'm pretty sure I'm gonna give the butterfly Au a complete rewrite soon since I feel like it needs an update

But until then take this story I wrote

About Ellis being locked in Tony's basement 👇

Da Title: My immortal

Ellis had no idea how long he'd been down there. Hours, maybe? Days? Definitely long enough for his wrists to ache from the stupid ropes Tony tied around them. He shuffled around a bit, trying to wiggle free, but the ropes just burned into his skin. Of course Tony would tie him way too tight,he's always been a control freak.

Maybe Vanny noticed he was missing and called the cops... maybe...

"Tony, you absolute psycho!" Ellis shouted. Nothing. Just his voice echoing off the cold cement walls. It smelled weird down here. Like rotten meat?

but like.. honey....?

His eyes were puffy from crying, and his face was smudged with tears and dust. It was so dark, and he'd never been good with the dark. He sniffled, trying to calm himself down. Okay, okay, it's fine. Tony just being Tony. He wouldn't actually leave me down here forever... right? He gulped. The thought of being stuck here forever made him cry all over again.

Upstairs, Ellis suddenly heard the front door creak open. Voices. Tony’s voice. And—wait—was that Gregory?

Ellis perked up. Gregory! Gregory’s here! He’ll save me! He has to!

“Tony, this day has been so weird,” Gregory said, his voice floating down the stairs. “Mr. Thompson was doing blood sacrifices in the boys bathroom again”

“Yeah, absolutely mad,” Tony replied, sounding distracted, like he didn’t care at all. Typical.

Ellis took a deep breath and screamed as loud as he could, “HELP! GREGORY, I’M DOWN HERE! GOD HELP!”

He waited. Everything went quiet. Did they hear him?

Suddenly, footsteps stomped toward the basement door. Ellis flinched. oh no.

The door flew open, and Tony stormed down the steps, glaring at Ellis like he wanted to murder him. He looked ridiculous with his stupid school uniform and his hair all slicked back, trying to be all fancy and grown up.

“boots, I swear to God,” Tony hissed through gritted teeth. “Shut. Up.”

Ellis blinked up at him, wide-eyed and sniffling. “Tony, please, this isn’t funny anymore! I’m gonna dieEEEEEE down here!”

Tony rolled his eyes like Ellis was being dramatic (which, okay, maybe he was, but still). “You’re not dying, you drama queen. Just keep your mouth shut, or I swear, I’ll__”

Ellis didn’t even hear the rest because Tony slammed the door before he could finish. The bang made Ellis jump. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stop the tears from coming again. Why is this happening to me?

Upstairs, Gregory’s voice broke the silence. “Uh, Tony? What was that???”

Ellis held his breath. Yes, Gregory! Ask questions! Come save me! You rebirth of Jesus Christ!

“Oh, uh, that?” Tony sounded nervous. Tony never sounded nervous. Ellis was listening closely. “That was just... uh... the furnace. Yeah, yeah. It makes weird noises sometimes.”

Gregory didn’t sound convinced. “The furnace? It sounded like someone yelling.”

Tony laughed, and it was the fakest laugh Ellis had ever heard. “Nah, nah, you’re hearing things. You know how old this house is. Creaky floors, noisy pipes, haunted basements. Anyway, why don’t you go hang out in the backyard? It’s a nice day.”

Ellis could practically hear Gregory’s confusion. “Uh… okay? I guess.”

Ellis’s heart sank as he heard the back door creak open. Gregory was going outside. No! Gregory! don’t leave please!

The basement was silent again.

Ellis let out a shaky breath and stared up at the ceiling. This is fine. Totally fine. I’m not gonna die down here or anything...

Ellis sniffled.

“Tony, you suck...."

[bonkalore]

obsessed with your characters Jayce and Lucy, I love their dynamic and Jayce is super cool!! and hot

Please continue the hard work!

Ahhhhh I'm so glad you enjoy it!! 😭

But!... They are technically not my characters! I mean... at this point, the ones you see me drawing are hardly those versions anyway, but they are, in fact, from a show on Netflix called Daniel Spellbound, but it's not very known online outside of what I post I guess!

Thank you for telling me tho~ It often feels like I'm just doing this on my own, but I actually have someone I'm working with to try and write my rewrite fanfic of the second season (Bleeding Magic AU) and actually have been trying to do that for a while now and want to make it come to fruition this time! 😂 I could very much make it an original at this point with how different it is, but I'm just focusing on having fun with the fan stuff for now~ I'm glad others have liked the art to come with it and I hope they can enjoy the story I have with it too!

And they are not a couple in it... 😂 They are constantly trying to kill each other in the show, for no particular reason. They just fight first, questions later, only the questions don't happen lol (And sadly he doesn't have a tail and I draw his clothes different lol)

But yes.... He is hot either way.

[ne0nwithazero]

You've mentioned repeatedly that Host is the one who unintentionally paralyzed Mike, but I couldn't find anything about that incident.

What actually happened? I know a lot of stuff in the story has been reworked but that point still nags at me even if it's not part of the au anymore.

Aaa yeah I need to figure out a proper way to organize where I keep my lore. Stuff is all over the place and I'm constantly adjusting things to the point where I still get people asking if Tenna is canon or not lol 😭😭😭

Info of the incident (Or I guess Art) is buried on one of my Twitter art threads since it's rather old artwork by now, it was an old unfinished sketch comic with really off-model art and dialogue </3 You can see it here but I decided to rewrite it below

That part of their backstory still remains relatively untouched, I just have a hard time figuring out how to implement it naturally into the story as it's something that only Mike and Host know about and not something you can easily get either of them to talk about. It is rather traumatic for both of them </3

But yes, the incident is tied to Host's secret bossification and how they lost their voice and met Mike.

This backstory hasn't been properly adjusted to account for the "Mike and Host are dark world leaders" lore update, but I imagine there wasn't a leader *yet* and they got into that position later when there came a need for it.

Essentially Host has always been on their own, as a darkner, they have a defective screen (Which is why Tenna has visible eyes and Host doesn't), and their blank static was regarded as a disability and made it difficult to have them be taken seriously in any form.

Even before losing their voice, Host still struggled to communicate and make themselves heard, and this type of isolation and lack of purpose, all made Host particularly vulnerable to a certain lightner who spoke in hands.

Serving lightners is a darkner's purpose, and Host craved that sense of direction, but never had one directly spoken to them. They felt him telepathically speak to them, and clearly, this was no ordinary lightner either.

This one had been lost in a strange place. His essence shattered through time and space, in a limbo between light and dark worlds.

And somehow, through their TV signal, Host was the only one capable of hearing him, and they were the only one capable of helping him.

And all that Host needed to do is open their mind and seek out those lost pieces of him.

With their isolation, solely guided by a need for a purpose, Host became blind to the red flags hidden in their interactions with this mysterious lightner. The lightner couldn't exist outside of his void and Host was the only one he could speak to. Host had a presence. Host had a physical body. Host had a voice. They could help this lightner return home.

But to open their mind, Host had to do more than stare into the void, they had to look beyond it, to leave themself behind, to channel the void, and to become the lightner's host and guide them back home.

Had their name always been Host? Their memories were becoming fuzzier by the day. The lightner never called them by their name, only a "host", the "host", like an experiment. Like a labrat you don't name to avoid attachment. What an honour to be in such a divine position. What an honour to have such a bond with a lightner.

But Host couldn't do it. No matter what they did, they never could figure out how to "open their mind" like the Lightner wanted. They were defective, and their screen couldn't display images, how could they see what he wanted them to see? How could they find those pieces of him when their mind was stuck in one place? He spoke of other dark worlds beyond the Cable, but Host only saw their own.

As an experiment, the lightner decided that he was going to aid them in this. He was going to make them see. Host was finally going to be able to unlock their full potential.

But Host underestimated the lightner's power over them. Like a painful shock going through their whole body and mind, Host saw it all, every dark world, every moment, everything happening everywhere all at once, bombarding their mind, shattering their reality, and as the visions became more and more overwhelming, Host's cries in pain turned into screams.

Visions and pain so overwhelming that cries did little to ease the pain. A cathode's scream is a powerful sight to behold, but Host was far too preoccupied to realize the shockwaves that their voice released. Their voice became garbled and corrupted by the strain, as any recognizable sound corrupted into a mess of crushed static and noise.

(There is this very old abandoned animation I made a while back meant to capture that moment, I figure visuals could help more??? I want to properly remake and finish this video eventually)

Meanwhile, elsewhere, was Mike, a nobody Microphone, all by himself which was uncommon for a darkner of his type, and unlucky to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Sensing the shockwave nearby, he tried to flee, but his short legs couldn't get him out of its range in time, and his fragile circuits couldn't handle the overwhelming electric shock, coming from an unknown scream of someone he couldn't see.

He felt it all over his body, the same overwhelming pain, causing him to collapse on the ground until the screaming subsided.

Regaining his senses, after what felt like hours, Mike was met with a chilling realization. He couldn't move. His body failed to respond to him. Further cursing his luck was that there was no other darkner in sight (Not that they'd bother helping something as lowly as a Microphone of all things), it slowly dawned on him that no one was coming for him. He was completely paralyzed, and if someone were to show up to hurt him, he'd have no way to escape.

Struggling to move in a body that did not respond to him, he tensed up when he heard the sound of someone slowly stumbling their way out of a dark alleyway. The tall figure meekly clinging on to the wall, and Mike quickly recognized the head shape as being one of a TV. Of course a TV did this.

In his anger, struggling to move his body, he yelled out to them. Larger darkners than him rarely to ever had good intentions, and if this TV was looking to pick on him, then he wasn't going down without a fight.

Host had been in a trance, but hearing the loud microphone's voice crying out insults in their direction, snapped them out of it, his voice louder than the visions in their mind.

And as Host saw the smaller darkner paralyzed on the floor, they quickly rushed to his aid, sparks of electricity still crawled through his body, and despite his protests over Host picking him in concern, the TV didn't budge, breathing heavily and beginning to weep.

A sound meekly tried to leave their mouth, like a weak pained croak attempting to replicate what was once a voice. Mike could have sworn it was an... apology?

He was shaken by this, and quickly realized that whatever had happened to him was tame compared to what the larger darkner was going through. Their panic, their sobbing, whatever it was that was capable of leaving a TV darkner like them in such a state had to be out of this world.

Whatever had broken them, had broken him too, and through their pain and cries, the TV kept attempting to apologize, their voice wheezing in pain, as each glitch caused them to strain themself further.

But Mike was far too shaken by what was out there that could terrify someone this much. What was out there that was so powerful that paralyzing him was nothing but collateral damage.

In their mind, Host heard the lightner telling them to take the smaller darkner with them. A paralyzed mic couldn't run away. He could be useful.

But Host only barely heard what he was telling them. Instead, focusing on Mike who tried his best to calm them down, the way someone so hurt by what Host did still showed more compassion than they had ever been given by anyone else. The lightner's words triggered a strange feeling in them. Taking the mic? Him not running away? That wording made them want to protect him. But why? The lightner was good, wasn't he?

"We can find who did this!" Host saw the small microphone speaking as his limp body still twitched with leftover sparks of electricity "I... I can't move, b-but... I can be your voice..."

Host sniffed, tears still streaming down the sides of their screen.

And I can be your body, they said wordlessly.