#MY WHOLE CHILDHOOD I'VE BEEN LISTENING TO HOUSE AND I HAD NO IDEA.

[xmen-more-like-sexwithmen]

just found out that House voices Steve Claus in Arthur Christmas. I feel very ill.

[zara-renata]

jumping up and down pls pls pls tell me your thoughts on caleb’s lore in the main story and what u think after going through his memoria and bond. as soon as they brought up the chip in the main story i wanted to throw my ipad bc i thought they were gonna do the whole “oh he’s not actually like that his mind is twisted from the chip” thing. but then he directly addressed that idea so i was like ok wow i guess not but everyone seems to think he is actually being controlled by the chip??? idk

heey thank you for this ask, i have a lot of thoughts as usual, thank you for asking <3 just a note: i wholly accept the gege caleb is your adopted brother aspect of his story like in the CN, KR, and JP versions, so i'm referring to him as mc's brother below. you can switch out brother for childhood friend; in either case, mc has a deeply rooted relationship with him.

First off, if I had a braincell I might have worried about the chip controlling his brain as a plot device, but I got the yandere vibes from him before he blew up, so that didn't even occur to me. But who are these 'everyone' of whom you speak? I don't think he's being controlled by the chip to any extent that matters in regards to his feelings and behavior towards mc. He's actively fighting against the chip's influence with his wildly cute and bizarre little black hole in his brain blocking its further invasion into his mind. the cliffhanger is, can the EVER scientists figure out a way to work around the block he's thrown up to actually exert control over him? The answer will be -> fuck if I know, I've never played an infold/PG game to later stages, but this is a dating sim, i'm assuming he'll be fine.

But I do think that all of his obsession about MC is wholly his own. His only wish in high school was MC's name -> MC herself. His need to protect her, to provide for her, all his own. he's been wearing a mask his whole life, he tells MC straight up that 'maybe this is how i've always been' because that's who he has always been. he's just finally "done playing these games" and is finally unapologetic about what he wants and is tired of fighting himself in getting it. I love him so much for it. "I know best, I'm the only one who can do this for you, and i'm going to do it whether you like it or not." and then if MC refuses to listen to him, if she pushes back, he looks like a kicked puppy and still keeps doing it. He's Like That without the chip. Is what he's doing okay? No man, this is unhealthy as fuck. if you want a healthy relationship based on mutual trust and support, you don't lie to and drug your sister-girlfriend. you don't urge her to be a hunter and then not trust that she can also take care of herself. you don't loom outside the cafe she's out at friends with and scare her friends into thinking you're some kind of abusive controlling asshole. I mean, unless you're caleb, and he doesn't care, he's finally owning his red flags. But I think it's fabulous to see his pikachu face when MC is like, i don't know you anymore, I might not want to see you for awhile, i'm pissed that you're still treating me like a defenseless little girl when i'm a trained killer now too. he deserves to look like that after all the shit he pulls. i like that infold just takes him right to the edge but doesn't push him over into 'okay this isn't fun anymore' territory with all of his core traits and motivations. he does let her go in the end, he lets her get in the airplane, escape the cage he's dying to put her in. with just the little card, begging her forgiveness, the forgiveness she promised him years ago.

But i digress. I really like the main storyline, but it's not without its flaws. So the things I liked: i'm shocked and happy that they made him full on yandere with the drugging mc and locking her in the house and then locking her in the infirmary and sidelining her at every opportunity in order to protect her. Those parts were great. I think the main story line was a wonderful showcase of how him as a character. I love his tenderness, and his suffocating presence were really well done. I loved how unhinged he is when MC says she doesn't need him, and he knocks over the apples and is laughing in breathless disbelief. Unmasked caleb = hot and a little scary. but please note! even when he's really upset, he does not hurt her! he's a hell of a lot more gentle than sylus! just, you know, throwing that out there.

What I didn't like: I thought that the plot was kind of all over the place. and like they often do in games like these, they nerfed MC in order to emphasize caleb's personality and traits and strengths. the whole mia and kevi storyline was a tragedy, and MC made some stupid-ass choices in it for an elite hunter. Like, the parallels with CalebMC were really clumsy, it felt a bit exploitative because they were such little kids, and for me its only value was highlighting how little Caleb cares about collateral damage in his quest to protect MC. He does not give a fuck if a little girl just like MC dies, as long as MC herself lives. That's some stone-cold villain shit, and I like it. They gave me my green flag with Sylus, I'm happy to have someone with such chilling aspects to his character as a nice balance. ALSO with the main storyline: Look, I love the other LIs. But Zayne, you're green grass, you're so lovely, but i am here for my toxic brother-boyfriend, why are you showing up and making me love how gentle and tender you are, genuinely are, unlike the fucked up walking disaster of a man i'm absolutely swooning over, who is gentle and tender in the way a child is when accidentally suffocating carefully-caught butterfly under a glass bell. Go on zayne, back to akso, I want more of the insecure border collie/german shepard crossbreed puppy masquerading as a colonel.

So because I am mainly interested in this game for the characters and their relationships to MC, I don't really mind that my low expectations for the the actual plot of the game tend to be proven correct and leave so much to be desired. but, If the plot was perfect I wouldn't feel the need to write fic to fix it, so I'm not too upset.

Another thing I hated, but I knew i'd hate: their reunion was so tepid. MC's joy in seeing him again, the relief that he's actually alive, her rage, her grief, everything he put her through in the past year -> like with sylus, glossed over, not addressed to the full extent necessary for a fun story or for emotional catharsis. i thought it was hilarious that mc is like, oh my brother is now a space nazi, and she is immediately ride-or-die, 'i don't even care that you're doing such awful shit, i've got your back no matter what,' even though he put her through so much and reveals himself through the whole main story to be Not The Brother She Knew. Who is this stranger? Apparently MC doesn't care, he wears caleb's face, so she's going to trust him. incredible. stupid. hilarious. but, oh well, that's what fic is for, to fix this nonsense. sidenote: Sylus didn't get this level of benefit of the doubt! MC made him suffer for SO long, suspecting him, not trusting anything he did! justice for sylus! and he had done way less horrible shit than MC watches caleb do!

As for the memoria and the bond: i love that he's been obsessed and nuts about her since high school, long before he left for the DAA. I love that the 4 star cards are all set in the past, but slowly show their growing romantic feelings for each other in high school, and don't just focus exclusively on cute childhood nostalgia. i love that they show how loving caleb is, when he's not wearing his space nazi uniform. because yes he's controlling, possessive, ruthless in a way that not even sylus is, but he really does love mc. he really does want whats best for her, and i think one of his character developments in the game will be learning to let her walk next to him instead of always sidelining her and making her feel less-than as a result. i love that she and caleb fight, and get in spats, and then make up, and he shows all of his emotions on his face. I love that in his memories he tells her that she's beautiful, that he thinks she's amazing. he's so open with his affection for her, and i love that so much, it's heart-fluttering.

Also some more thoughts about Caleb and Sylus I was sharing with @minniestarmj today: i love that caleb and sylus are two sides of the same coin. they're both caretakers, they both are obsessive about mc, they both track her and stalk her, and want what's best for her and to be the ones to give it, but Sylus never considered himself human but slowly finds his humanity in mc, and caleb, if he ever had humanity, slowly loses it because of mc.

they're both brain-empty, only-mc levels of motivation. sylus, though not being human, cares about weaker creatures. caleb only cares about mc, despite being human.

sylus is assured, stable, deeply devoted, MC is his other half, and just as strong and capable as he is. caleb is deeply insecure, unstable, has a trouble keeping a lid on his need for control of and protection of mc. sylus fully respects mc, trusts she can do anything, and is just waiting to step in to support when/if necessary. caleb is fear motivated-i think he does respect, admires, worships mc, but is too afraid of anything happening to her and leaving him alone to give her the freedom she craves/needs.

I love that sylus is the king of control, and can give it up so easily to MC, whereas Caleb is so desperate for control, and is always on the verge of losing it around MC. that's a nice fucking contrast to play with in their respective romances.

All in all, with both Sylus and Caleb, I get my healthy, sweetest beyond measure dragon boy and i get my unhinged yandere cyborg boy, and i love them both very much. i'm happy with the caleb as a character, and all the content they've given us so far. it's a mess, just like him.

So! despite all my bitching i love it and I'm having a great time! Thanks for the ask and making it this far in this rambling diatribe!!

[bella-rose29]

Puppy

Request from anon:

hiiiii, first I wanna say that I enjoy reading your works, they're wonderful. <3

Now, I've seen you post about wanting Lockwood requests and I might have an idea. Lockwood and reader are in long-term relationship (they know each other since childhood, the reader is talentless but Lockwood comes to her when he need to relax/help with a plan/whatever), and no-one knows about the relationship besides them. And after some rough case when kipss crew had to help out, Lockwood and co and kipss crew are drinking in a bar to ease up (the reader works in the bar as part-time job) and in the drunken state Lockwood is even more confident than normally so someone makes a bet with him that he won be able to get a kiss out of the bartender (the reader) by the end of the night... I don't really know what after but maybe you'll be able to find a fluffy/funny ending to it?

I hope I'm making sense.

Have a nice day! :)))

First of all, thank you for the love anon, and I hope you have a nice day too!! <3

Second, I am completely in love with this idea (it's totally something Lockwood would do let's face it) and I had so much fun writing this!!!

Hopefully this lives up to expectations my lovely <3

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: descriptions of injury, fight scenes (with dead people), swearing, suggestive comments, drunken activities (mostly Lockwood), everybody is over 18 so they can legally drink in the pub

Tag list: @anathemaloren, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @dangelnleif, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @karensirkobabes, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @ran23sblog, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @wandamaximoffbae, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife

As always, if you'd like to be added to/removed from the tag list, let me know here <3

(not my gif <3)

Lockwood was tired.

He'd barely slept the night before, despite not having a case, and he'd barely eaten the whole day. It was nearing 7pm now, the sun having set over an hour ago and leaving the city in almost darkness. There would be no sleeping tonight, either, since he and his company had to tackle a Type One in an old lady's house. All Lockwood really wanted was to see her, and have her tell him stories about her day until he fell asleep in her arms, but he couldn't do that right now. Hopefully this would be done quickly, this job, so that he could get to hers before she went to sleep.

Lockwood and Co had been in the kitchen of Mrs Lovey's house for a while now, cups of tea left empty on the counter and the packet of biscuits finished off. Initial readings had been low, giving Lockwood hope that they really would be done quickly, and they'd made note of the likely places for the Source.

"Lockwood? You're staring into space again. You alright?"

He blinked back into reality, pulling himself out of his thoughts of warm rooms and soft kisses.

"Huh? Oh, right. Yeah, I'm alright. Just surprised this Visitor hasn't turned up yet." He checked his watch. "Time for another reading in the living room?"

George nodded. "I'll go first."

The three of them headed in, rapiers at the ready.

"One degree. And a feeling of unease. It's definitely getting close to being here."

"Never mind close, I can see it," Lockwood whispered, taking up a defensive position.

"Yeah, I can hear it, too. Sounds like someone crying. I don't think this is a Type One either," Lucy added, and Lockwood couldn't help but agree.

"Any murders or anything happen here, George?"

"Not that I'm aware of, and I researched for days for this one. Didn't find anything out of the ordinary."

"Male or female, Luce? The voice."

"Uh, hang on, shut up a minute." She closed her eyes, focusing her efforts on Listening. "Male. Definitely. Sounds older, and like he's got some sort of trauma."

"Right. George, you figure out where the Source is. Lucy and I will watch it, make sure it doesn't go for you. Can either of you see it yet?"

"Not really. There's a sort of shiny mist over by that armchair, though," George said, pointing in the direction of the ratty old seat.

"Yeah, okay. That's where it is. Lucy?"

"Same as George. Getting stronger though. Maybe the chair is the Source?"

"Could be. George?"

"You're sure you've got my back, yeah? Because I really can't see it that well right now and I'd rather not die tonight."

"We're sure. Go on, have a poke around."

George did so, hesitantly getting closer to the chair and holding the scanner up. "Yeah, the Source is here somewhere." He prodded the side, and Lockwood saw Lucy flinch.

"It didn't like that at all. God, that was awful. Wait, George, don't-"

She slammed her hands over her ears, trying to block out the scream that even Lockwood could hear now.

"George, get the net," he cried out, rapier moving swiftly as the Visitor grew brighter and aimed for the head of the company.

"Incredibly clear visual, Lockwood! Lucy was right, it's definitely a Type Two!"

"GET THE NET, GEORGE!"

Lockwood had been backed into a corner, arm starting to ache from the continuous motion of the rapier holding off the ghost in front of him. Lucy had recovered (just about), and was picking up her rapier to help him. Sensing a second opponent, the ghost turned, and targeted Lockwood's coworker. The two of them spent the next few minutes sending the Visitor between them while George repeatedly chucked the net over various parts of the chair, expression growing more frantic each time.

"George, what's going on?!" Lucy shouted.

"It's not working! I don't think the chair is the Source! Or if it is, it's inside the chair!"

"Then get searching! Rip the whole bloody thing apart if you have to! But get on with it!" Lockwood gritted his teeth, fighting off the cold unease he felt flooding through his body. He thought of her, and her smile, and her laugh, and pushed back twice as hard against the Visitor. At some point he'd injured himself, the cut on his upper left arm bleeding slightly, but he couldn't think about that until the ghost was dealt with.

"GOT IT!" George shouted, voice triumphant. He slung the net around the object he'd found, and all at once the living room went silent apart from the heavy breaths of the three agents. The ghost disappeared, and the temperature started rising. George sat back on his knees and held the swaddled object up, bits of foam stuffing caught in his curls. "Knife, it's got blood on it. I'd wager she killed her husband. There was a cut already made in the back, made it easier to find." He looked vaguely manic, what with his wide grin and foam-covered hair, but Lockwood couldn't deny his gratitude for his weird friend.

"I reckon we need to have a chat with DEPRAC, then. Mrs. Lovey clearly doesn't live up to her name," he replied, smile matching George's.

~~~

Half an hour later, Lockwood was on his way to hers. He'd left George and Lucy in the taxi, telling them he had something to sort out and he'd be back later, and to not wait up for him, and had caught his own cab to his destination.

He dragged himself up the front steps, knocking on the front door, and couldn't help the smile that appeared when it swung open to reveal his girlfriend.

"Jesus Christ, you look like shit."

"Charming as ever, love. Can I come in?"

Y/n stepped to the side, giving him a peck on the lips as he went past. "Shoes off, then up to my room. I'll be there in a sec. Gimme your coat, I'll hang it up for you."

He pulled himself up to her room, trying to be as quiet as possible so as not to wake her siblings, and collapsed on her bed.

"Look at you. You're like a puppy, all cute and cuddly."

He lifted his head as Y/n walked in, closing the door behind her with a soft click as she balanced a tray in her hands.

"Jacket off. And shirt."

"If you wanted me naked you could have just said so, darling." He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively, revelling in her blush.

"Shut up and strip, Anthony," she mumbled.

He complied, smirk turning into smile as he saw the medical supplies on the tray, right next to a pot of tea and a plate of biscuits.

"What even happened?"

"Honestly? No clue. Type One turned out to be a Type Two murder victim though, so that was fun."

"You know, there are times I wish I had Talent. Then you come here looking like this and saying things like that and I wonder why I ever wanted it in the first place. Easy on the shirt, I think it's stuck." He'd winced trying to peel the fabric away from the wound, and Y/n immediately replaced his fingers with hers, touch gentle as she attempted to prise his shirt off. Sucking in air through her teeth as she got it off, Lockwood knew it was bad. It had been a dull throb the whole time he'd been travelling over, too exhausted to think about it more, but now that he had nothing else to think about the pain sharpened.

"This is gonna hurt, okay? I'm just gonna sterilise it, so try not to move. Three, two..." He waited for one, but before she got there, Y/n had placed the cotton wool on his arm, dabbing the alcohol on the wound. He gritted his teeth, asking her about her day. She spoke while she worked, cleaning it out and covering it in protective wrapping. Her voice distracted him, letting him lose himself in her words, and she was done before he knew it, pouring a cup of tea and offering it out to him. "Put this on," she said, passing over an old shirt of his that he left at hers specifically for times like this.

"Do you really want me to?"

"No, but if it means that when my parents inevitably walk in they don't kick you out forever, I'll live with it." He laughed slightly, placing the tea down and pulling the top on, careful not to disturb his wound.

"You know you don't have to do that, right? I'm perfectly capable of looking after my own injuries."

"I know," she shrugged, sitting down next to him on the bed. "But I don't mind. Just another excuse to be close to you, I guess."

"You don't need an excuse for that, love. You know I'll happily give you anything you like."

"Anything?"

He nodded.

"Alright," she said, leaning up to plant a kiss on his lips, breaking away when their smiles got too wide.

"I thought you were going to make me dance naked in the street or something." Her eyes went wide as she took in his words.

"Oh my god, I am totally making you do that sometime."

He groaned, unable to fight the smile on his face as she peppered his cheeks with kisses, finally pressing one to his mouth.

"Remind me why I love you?"

"Because I'm amazing, and the most incredible person ever?"

He chuckled, kissing her again. "Yeah. You are."

~~~

"Where the hell have you been, Tony? We've been waiting for you!"

"Just had some last minute things to sort out, don't get your knickers in a twist, Kipps. Oh, thanks Luce," he said, smiling at the girl as she handed him a flask of tea. He'd actually been at Y/n's, spending time with her before her shift at the pub. He'd almost been late, her parents wanting him to stay for dinner (he had politely declined, reminding them that he had a job to go to as well as their daughter), and her younger siblings wanting him to play with them. Lockwood and Y/n's parents had been friends since before either of them were born, at one point the two families living next to each other on Portland Row, and it was only the arrival of the fourth baby five years ago that had made the L/n family move. It had only been natural that Anthony and Y/n started dating, having been childhood friends, and her parents were delighted at the pairing. Unfortunately that now meant that they wanted him to spend every spare minute at their house, which more often than not made him slightly late for work.

"I'm not wearing knickers," the older boy muttered indignantly, clearly unable to come up with a good enough retort.

"Oh, are these the files? Thanks George."

"Wait, have you not even read these?" Kipps said, eyebrows rising.

"Of course I have, just not the whole compiled thing. I'm not stupid." Kipps scoffed at that.

"Yeah, sure you're not, Tony. C'mon. Hurry up and read, we're late because of you and we need to set everything up before it gets dark."

~~~

Three hours later, the two teams were close to death.

Both in the sense that they were run ragged, energy severely depleted and bodies aching, and also in that they were completely surrounded by ghosts, Type Ones and Types Twos blocking every exit. The report had said that there were only meant to be two Spectres in the whole abandoned department store, but before it had even been properly dark Lucy had heard voices crying out and shouting, and Lockwood had seen death glows so bright he'd needed his sunglasses.

"Tony, what the hell are you doing?!"

He was taking a break, eyes aching from the brightness surrounding them and arm protesting the weight of his rapier. He scanned the area, sure that Lucy would have his back for a moment, and spotted something through a gap in the Visitors.

"Lucy?"

"What?!"

"I need you to not kill me and cover me with flares."

"Why?"

"Because I'm going to run through the ghosts."

"You're WHAT?!"

"What? What's he saying?" Kipps was trying to get closer to them, rapier cutting arcs into the air and not giving him much headway.

"You're impossible, you know that?" Lucy glared at him, grabbing some flares from her belt.

"Yep. Ready?" She threw, the magnesium creating a break in the swarm of ghosts large enough for Lockwood to cut through. He made it to the other side (although a near miss from a badly aimed flare made him think that Lucy was trying to hit him and not the Visitors), trying to block out the sounds of his team mates yelling as they fought swathes of the undead. He ducked under a chair that a poltergeist had thrown, dodging the knives hurled afterwards. Skidding to a halt in front of a large iron box filled with objects, the lid hanging open, Lockwood slammed it shut, throwing a net over the top for good measure and securing the edges. Within seconds the majority of the Visitors disappeared. A few still remained, including the two poltergeists, but the number was much better.

The two teams spent the next thirty minutes finding the various Sources of the remaining ghosts, all the while trying to not get hit by the items the poltergeists were throwing, and by the end of it when Kipps suggested going to the pub, nobody disagreed.

~~~

Lockwood and Co were in the taxi on their way to the pub when George piped up.

"Why'd you agree to going to the pub with Kipps? I would have thought you'd rather eat your own foot than spend more time with him."

"I need a drink, and he said he'd buy the first round. If it's free, I'll take it. I don't really care who's buying it, even if it's Kipps."

They clambered out the taxi, Lockwood paying the driver and jogging to catch up with the other two just as they entered the pub. Spotting Kipps' team already sat down, the three of them headed over, taking seats and giving their order to the older agent. Lockwood looked around, certain he recognised the building but unsure why, when his gaze caught on the girl behind the bar.

Ah.

Of course the pub Kipps picked was the one that Y/n worked at. Lockwood had been here before, which is why he thought it was familiar, but nobody knew about his relationship with the bartender. Kipps came back with the drinks then, one of the other servers following with the rest and asking for ID. Taking his first sip, Lockwood felt himself relax a little more, happy to not be going anywhere for a while after the gruelling job earlier.

~~~

"You," Lucy pointed at him, "are so drunk right now."

"Seriously, you cannot hold your alcohol, can you Tony?"

"Don't call me Tony, you prick." It was true that Lockwood was a lightweight, and he knew it, but he grumbled about the accusation anyway. Kipps only laughed, not doing much better than his rival in terms of handling alcohol, and took another swig of his beer.

"You're probably rubbish at picking up girls, too. Y'know, you're probably rubbish at every normal guy thing."

"Shut up, I can so pick up girls." He wasn't going to let Kipps tell him he was bad at anything.

"Oh really?"

"Yep. Amazing at it."

"Bet you can't get a kiss out the bartender though."

"Which one," he said, hoping Kipps would pick the right one.

"The one in the blue top, about your age. In fact, I am so confident you'll be shit at this, I'll bet ten quid you can't do it."

"Oh you're on," Lockwood said, knowing already he'd win the bet. Kipps had unknowingly picked Lockwood's girlfriend, and this would be the easiest ten pounds of his life.

"I'll bet a tenner too. I'm looking forward to watching you fail dramatically," Kat Godwin added, smirk on her face. Bobby placed his own bet, and soon enough there was fifty quid on the line, with George and Lucy agreeing with Kipps.

"Off you go, Lockwood," Lucy smiled, giving him a pat on the back. "Try not to traumatise the poor girl."

"Oh, just you all wait," he slurred, pointing a finger at them. "This is gonna be easyyyy." He headed for the bar, confidence filling him and giving him the ability to walk a lot straighter than he would otherwise have. He leaned forward on the wooden surface, fingers drumming against it. "Heyyy," he said, smiling up at his girlfriend as he slid (unsuccessfully) onto a stool.

"Hi... you okay?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm great, and you," he wagged his finger at her, pausing for effect, "are gorgeous." He winked, and she suppressed a laugh, making him pout. "Why're you laughing? It's true!"

"Ant, honey, you are very drunk right now. Please go home," she said, pressing a hand to her mouth to stop the giggles bursting out.

"But I can't go home," he said, suddenly very serious.

"Oh really? Why's that?"

"Because I need a kiss if I'm gonna go home." He puckered up immediately, leaning forward over the bar and closing his eyes.

"Oh my god, Anthony, stop it!"

"Aw, do you not wanna kiss me?" He pouted again, and Y/n couldn't stop her laughter anymore. Lockwood sat back, crossing his arms over his chest and huffing. "Well, I'm not going away until I get a kiss from the prettiest bartender person lady that I've ever seen, so you'll have to get used to me being here."

"Okay, alright! Lemme serve this customer, yeah?" She turned away, leaving Lockwood to stew in his seat at her lack of kisses. Waiting for her to come back to him felt like an eternity, and when she came around the bar to stand next to him, he perked up, half launching himself at her. "Woah! Hold on, Ant! Jesus!" He was still sat on the stool, Y/n being only slightly taller than him despite being stood up, and he pulled her between his legs, arms wrapping around her waist. "Wait, what about your friends? I thought they didn't know?"

"Don't care, jus' wanna kiss you. There's a share of fifty pounds in it for you," he said suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows like he had a few weeks ago when she'd patched him up.

"Oh wow, you really love me, huh? Kissing me for money?" she asked sarcastically, but her eyes were warm. He nodded, dopey look on his face.

"Please? 'Cause Kipps said I can't pick up girls, and he bet money that I couldn't get a kiss out of you, and then the others bet money too, and mostly I wanna prove him wrong, but also I want the money so I can take you on the most amazing date in your life and get you ice cream."

"You are such a golden retriever puppy of a boyfriend, aren't you? Come here." She took his face in her hands, placing a few soft kisses on his mouth. His arms tightened around her waist, holding her closer to him, and Y/n had to brace a hand on the bar so that she didn't fall over from the awkward angle. When she pulled back, he chased her lips for a moment, opening his eyes slowly. His gaze was full of love, and he had a gentle smile on his face.

"I love you, Y/n/n."

"Love you too, Ant. Now get your fifty pounds and drink some water."

"Ugh, but water's boringgg," he complained, frown forming on his face. Y/n chuckled, kissing the crease between his eyebrows.

"I'll give you more than kisses when you come over on Saturday if you sober up." Lockwood stopped frowning immediately, and Y/n could practically feel the happiness radiating off of him.

"Where's the water?"

~~~

"Shit, how'd you do that, Tony?"

Lockwood shrugged. "I'm just really good at picking up girls."

"Sure, is that vodka?"

"Nope, water."

"Why have you got that?" Kipps wrinkled his nose, handing over his portion of Lockwood's winnings.

"Because she told me to drink it," he said, sipping the liquid through the straw he'd asked for (it made drinking boring things more fun, he'd told Y/n).

"Uh... okay?"

"Yeah. I feel like- hang on, Lucy, where's your tenner? Thanks. I feel like it's a little bit unfair, the bet, 'cause she is actually my girlfriend, but- no, you can't take the money back! You made a bet! No take-backs! But thanks anyway."

"So you can't pick up girls!" Kipps shouted, thinking he'd finally found something Anthony Lockwood couldn't do.

"Well technically I can, 'cause I had to pick her up in the first place to get her to be my girlfriend, and also she's not that heavy, so I can definitely pick her up if she doesn't wriggle too much. I know 'cause I've done it before."

Kipps groaned. "Wait... she just told you to drink water, so you are?"

"Yep. She's very persuasive. Basically said that if I drink it all then when I go to her house on Saturday we're gonna have sex," he said casually.

Everybody around the table choked on their drinks.

[r0semultiverse]

Mr. 6 made you do a good show to be released?? 👀 um....

This is already giving serious eye vibes.

A whole show dedicated to public humiliation?

The Mr. Bonzo suit started moving??? 👀 Serious stranger vibes. 🤡

"It actually became a sort of ritual"

I've seen people being like "don't cross tag" but buddy... the writing cross tags itself here I mean c'mon! 😂 Something something ritual of the stranger- okay, I'll keep listening!

Hey, what's with the music?? Hey, who is Terrance Menki???👀

"The police said there were eleven bodies in total and his wardrobe was full of all sorts of homemade costumes." BRO IS ACTUALLY MAGNUSPOD WILLIAM AFTON-

"It certainly had a profound effect on the Mr. Bonzo brand." Oh I'm sure it did, holy fucking shit. 👀

Oh, me using this image is rather ironic now.

"In a lot of ways I’m more his prisoner now than I ever was on my show." WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT? 👀

"The witness statements from three murders over the last five years that claim a person in a Mr. Bonzo costume was at the scene? Do you think there could be a copycat?" Has the fear of clowns manifested as an actual clown-guything?

"Don’t contact us again." "Us?" "Why am I still trapped dealing with all this this- Why won’t he let me go?! Why-" So Mr. Bonzo is absolutely a clown cryptid of sorts with some sort of hold over Nigel.

Oh no, Gwen's about to fuck around & find out, isn't she? 👀

Hey, is Colin still himself & is he supposed to be back?

Hmm, okay, I guess that's him (hopefully).

"Maybe don’t tell them I’ve been on their terminals. They’ll only get the wrong idea." "If Lena asks, I wasn’t here." Seems like everyone's got their own little secret investigations going on, fun! This can only go well! 🙃

One of the episodes absolutely no one shows up to work except Lena is there & is like "where the fuck did everyone go?"

"Time to get some new hires again I guess."

Let's go!! Ruin exploration gang!!

"Like, it’s Saturday night and I’m choosing to hang out in a hole with you. A wet hole. And not the good kind either."

Alice with the absolute best quotes. lmao

That sounds like something with giant wings like a bat or some sort of cloth flapping in the wind. Let's hope it's the latter!

Oh a rusty old filing cabinet! Wait tetanus- 😭

"That carved floor in the big atrium – I don’t know what’s going on with that." Ah so we're just gonna breeze past that then. 😶

These are probably the remnants of old avatar creation test areas like mentioned in the Gerry & Gertrude episode. I'm just assuming here.

A key? Big find! Let's go!

AS I WAS SAYING-

Gwen, it was nice knowing you. 🫡

"Now get out of his house."

Archivist! 👁👄👁

"symbols of ancient otherworldly power"

Wait could this be a timeline where this universe's Jane Prentiss actually did manage to invade the building & succeed? I'm thinking out loud.

21:10 that sounds like critters, insects specifically 👀

"I have memories of weird stuff I saw here, but no context. I want to know what was happening, why they chose us… why they didn’t choose me. Maybe find the bit where everything started to go wrong." I am so captivated & intrigued please recount said memories to us- I mean Alice so we can learn more. Please. 👀

EXCUSE ME, WHO THE FUCK WAS THAT?!? WHO IS "[ERROR]?"

WHY DO THEY SOUND DISTORTED AS FUCK?? ARE THEY FROM THE PRIME TIMELINE OR IS THIS A NEW THING?

ARE WE GAZING OUR EYES UPON A WRETCHED THING FROM THE MAGNUS ARCHIVES?!

edit:

Is Lucia Wright an avatar of The Flesh now (in this universe or from the original timeline somehow)? Because it sure fucking sounds like it! 👀 Well, at least that key was put to good use! 😂

Also, supposedly Mr. Bonzo is a reference to Mr. Blobby.

Gwen, I'd be quaking in my boots too. That thing is terrifying!

Late observation but this universe & story seems to focus a lot on the cryptids & I like the direction it's going in! Loving this plot of cryptid hunters, childhood avatar experiments, a strange institute where our main character has past trauma, & just all of it is so good! 💜

Amazing episode, 10/10, I was at the edge of my seat the entire time! 💜 That Bonzo scene & the sound design were absolutely horrifying, thank you! The ending too! 🔥

[those70scomics]

Fictober Day 9: "don't listen to me, listen to them"

That '70s Show Fanfiction

Hyde paced W.B.'s office at Grooves's headquarters. Angie was present, as was Jackie. She'd taken time off from her busy-as-hell schedule for this meeting.

"It's a dumb idea," he said. "I shouldn't have even brought it up."

"It's not dumb, and I'm happy that you told us about it." W.B. grasped Hyde's arm, stopping him near W.B.'s desk. "You're turning twenty-nine in less than two months. You're engaged. You should want more."

Angie's facial expression showed that she'd been waiting for this day. "I dreamt of running a record store since I was a kid. Then of running all of Grooves someday, and now I'm the company's senior VP of operations. You're allowed to pursue your dreams, too."

"I've already got more than I ever freakin' dreamed." Hyde glanced back at Jackie, who'd remained silent so far. "It ain't fair to to risk it all."

"You don't think creating Grooves was a risk?" W.B. said. I was married to Angie's mother, who was pregnant with Angie. We needed the security of a regular paycheck, but her mom wanted me to be happy. And my risk eventually paid off more than anybody could've imagined."

Hyde gestured in defeat. "I can't imagine this workin'."

Jackie stepped toward him and touched his hand. "Neither can I."

"Exactly."

"But don't listen to me. Listen to them."

Hyde stared at her. "Who the hell are you, and what've you done with my chick."

"Steven." She jostled his hand. "I'm redesigning my whole spring collection. I can't imagine that working either, but I'm doing it anyway. This time next year on October ninth, 1990, you'll have put out your first record on your own label."

"A sub label of Grooves Records, of course," Angie said with a smirk.

Hyde bowed his head and hunched his shoulders. "That's nepotism."

"That's expanding the family business." W.B. patted Hyde's back. "I'm not taking an opportunity away from anyone else. You've earned this. The demos you've played me, you have the ear, son."

Hyde sat in the closest chair. His legs were shaking from what was being said, being offered.

"You've been apprenticing under Frankie Branch to learn audio engineering, music production, for how long?" W.B. continued. "Picked up the guitar expertly in three years of lessons and learned as much by listening to songs. Taught yourself bass guitar. Became Cam's favorite drum student, and that's saying a lot."

Angie gazed at the high ceiling and shook her head. "Edna and Bud gave you no chance to realize you have perfect pitch. You didn't understand what you were capable of. You've had to play catch-up in your mid-twenties."

Jackie stood in front of Hyde and rubbed his arms over his long sleeves. "Your childhood was stolen from you. You once told me all the doors were locked for you but one. Your family, your true family, has unlocked so many. You've walked through a lot. Don't shut this door and walk away."

Hyde covered his face in his hands. His emotions were getting to him, breaking through his defenses. As a kid, Formans' folks signed Forman up for jazz guitar lessons, which he abandoned. Only the acoustic guitar remained, and Hyde played that thing every second he could at the Formans' house.

He used Forman's beginners' workbook to learn tabs that were printed alongside sheet music. Hyde couldn't read music for shit, but tabs he got. Songs on the radio, on records, stuck in his skull like recordings. He figured out how to play the guitar parts himself and, back then, had no clue why could do that.

He understood now.

"Son, are you all right?" W.B. said.

Hyde raised his head and wiped his eyes. "Yeah. Just ... when ya don't believe something's possible for you for so damn long -- and then it happens? Kind of a mind fuck."

"So you'll start your label?" Jackie smiled at him with such hope, such support, he would've fallen in love with her if he hadn't already fallen twelve years ago.

"Yup."

Jackie cheered, and W.B. congratulated him in a proud, fatherly way Hyde was still growing used to.

"What are you going to call it?" Angie said.

Hyde grinned. "Burn-Out Records."

[sincerely-sofie]

OOOH! BRAIN DOING A THING

A while back I sent an ask about Cresselia driving away a mortal that wanted to be Darkrai's friend.

I just had the thought; What if that mortal that wanted to be his friend, was the one that taught him embroidery?

I think I remember that being a reply to one of my posts instead of an ask! I've got it copied down somewhere in my notes of ideas for things to make, and it's been rotating in my brain ever since I saw it. This is 100% canon now. I'm going to tell you how.

She hasn't appeared much, only making a brief cameo in a comic from a while back and a fic I haven't posted because I'm shy about it, but there's an elderly nidoqueen who lives in Verdant Village and absolutely adores Ark and has taken him under her wing. He's always such a polite fellow whenever they chat— and after she learns through their small talk that Ark enjoys hand-sewing and embroidery, she gives him an heirloom sewing box. She insists he take it despite his initial refusal— none of her sons were interested in the art, and her arthritis means the old thing is just gathering dust nowadays.

I can imagine that he pays her a visit one day when Twig and Opal are out of the house for a day trip with Manaphy and Spindle. She's thrilled to have the company— especially company that is such a good listener and doesn't mind an old woman's reminiscing. She eventually gets to a story about her great-great-great-great grandfather (though there might have been another "great" or two in there— most of the family stories just call him Papa Sandbar after where he made his home) and tells Ark about the family's patriarch.

It's the funniest thing— Papa Sandbar started up the family trade of hand-sewing and embroidering the things he sewed, and he taught all of his children what he knew, but he didn't let any of them inherit the business he'd made out of it. The daughter that Nidoqueen is descended from was especially miffed by that. She wrote over and over in her journal as a young woman about how huffy she felt about the matter.

Her father claimed he had an apprentice for a time before her or any of her siblings were born, and he had made up his mind that he'd be the one to inherit the business— but the apprentice vanished without a trace one day, and Papa Sandbar swore up and down that there was foul play involved with his disappearance. He insisted that there was a strange woman who must have had something to do with it, because she stopped by asking after the apprentice the morning after he disappeared— though no one else had any stories of the strange woman or the apprentice, and as far as the family knows he was making the whole thing up.

Nidoqueen laughs about how stubborn Papa Sandbar must have been, to be so fussy about his business's reputation he didn't trust his children to run it right once he retired— so he made up a fictional absentee apprentice that he'd supposedly entrusted his legacy to so they'd stop nagging him. Ark, meanwhile, is having flashbacks to a Krokorok who had housed him and taught him how to use a needle and thread and would speak often about his childhood sweetheart nidoran, and how he left town to master his craft in the wilderness so he could be a legitimate suitor for her despite his street urchin origins.

He's reminded of Krokorok's distinct cackle when Nidoqueen laughs. He's reminded of how the man would wake from a nightmare and tell Darkrai that he needed to get a handle on his aura because the bad dreams every night were boring him, and he should try and figure out a way to make the pitiful things actually frightening. He's reminded of how he was the first person he'd been able to call a friend.

The initials engraved on the sewing box Nidoqueen gifted him suddenly become very familiar very fast.

[al-the-remix]

Climbing up You Walls and Fade Into You for the wip game! ❤️❤️❤️

Okay so I answered "Climbing Up Your Walls" here, but Fade Into You is the Ghost Tommy fic I've been woking on because I decided to rewatch Ghost Whisperer and relive my childhood JLH crush. I'm still mostly in the outlining stage because I think it's going to be a longer fic, but I just can't shake the idea of what if Tommy did die that day with the gas leak and when Buck wakes up from his coma he's got ghost whisper-ish powers and discovers Tommy hanging around the fire house. I also like the idea of Natalie being around because of the whole death doula thing I think Buck would go to her fist to disclose this new development. And also some Buck/Chimney bonding because he's always felt a little guilty for not being able to make it inside before the explosion happened, right when he thought he might be making some headway with Tommy as a friend.

This would have a happy, magical time line fix-it ending, (because I don't think I have two MCD fics in me in a row 😅), where Buck has to solve some kind of preternatural puzzle with that big brain of his to send Tommy back and hopefully give him a second chance. And then Buck has to wait around for Tommy to re-appear in the present.

(this is also still pretty rough...)

Tommy was leaning against the back of the couch, right near Buck’s ear, giving him running commentary on the movie: Top Gun--the original, not Maverick--Tommy had opinions about that too. He had opinions on just about everything, and Buck found himself looking forward more to listening to what Tommy had to say than watching the actual movie itself. He was hovering close enough that Buck could imagine feeling Tommy’s breath on the back of his neck, cold and soft. The hair all along his arms raising when Buck shivered. Tommy had been in the same position for just over forty minutes and Buck guesses that’s one of the upsides of being non-corporal: no leg cramps.  “So was it like a thing to wear jeans to the beach in the eighties?”  “I was four when this came out,” Tommy huffed in his ear. Buck was getting good at differentiating when he was really annoyed and when he was just putting on a show. “Though I could tell you about some other things I got up to in soaking wet jeans…” “Are you talking to yourself Buckley?” Buck could stop himself from jumping about a foot in the air. Face hot from the implication in Tommy’s voice and heart hammering from Chim catching him off guard. He hadn’t heard him coming, too wrapped up in his and Tommy’s conversation. Chim was standing by the sofa and Buck hoped he hadn’t been there for too long, but from the way he was looking at Buck like he’d grown a second head, he figured the odds weren’t in his favor on that one.   Tommy had grown quite beside him, fading till he looked like he could be nothing more than a trick of the light.  “Uh, yeah,” Buck cleared his throat. “This is my favorite part, I know all the words.”  Chim raised a brow. “I don't remember there being a lot of talking in the volleyball scene…” Buck opened and closed his mouth a few times, at a loss for words. Eventually Chim threw his hands up in the air, losing patience. “You know what? I don’t even want to know.”  When he was gone, Tommy reappeared, this time sitting at Buck’s side on the sofa. He was looking off in the direction Chim had disappeared, expression hard to decipher. He looked…wistful.  “We used to watch it together all the time,” Tommy admitted, his voice fading slightly, like it always did when he was thinking about before.  And Buck…Buck didn’t know how to feel about that. Sometimes he forgot that Tommy existed–really existed–in space and time outside of their little bubble.

[veeluvss]

My Girl, Lily Prentiss (2)

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

"Lily Addams," Emily said, clicking the remote. The entire team sat around the round table, concern clear in their faces and expressions. Prentiss could hardly get her words out. Lily was gone. Gone. "Seventeen," Emily said again, clicking on another picture of her. She couldn't tear her eyes away from her, seeing her all grown up. Her smile hadn't changed one bit. The apples of her cheeks kept the pink colour and her eyes still gleamed with happy tears in the situation. Her hair, a mousey brown now, was beautifully waved over her shoulders. Emily could see she kept active, knowing she loved the outdoors. Being deprived of it for so long meant Lily would do anything to be outside all the time. "Prentiss," Morgan said, voice breaking the silence. Emily nodded, tearing her eyes away from the picture. "Yes, of course." She mumbled, shaking her head. "Lily Addams, seventeen. Her parents came to me this morning to report her missing. She's been gone two days, no word, no sign, nothing. We need to hit the ground running and find out what happened." Emily knew she was making no sense and the team were only growing more and more worried. "Emily, what's going on?" JJ asked, sitting up in her chair. There was more silence as Emily tried to find the words.

"She was in protective custody," Emily whispered, taking a seat. She couldn't trust her legs to hold her weight. "Her parents, they, they were con artists. I went undercover to catch them. Lily - she was their daughter. They exploited her, kept her locked up, and hidden and used her whenever they could. They'd lure these women in and use them, rape them, do all sorts and Lily - she would love them with her whole innocent self because she had no idea what they were doing to them. They'd look after her, watch her, care for her. I did too. "I've always had her on my mind, she was like mine. My little girl in the darkest times. She was far too innocent for everything that happened to her," Emily explained. "I've stayed close by to her, following her family around the world. They knew. Every year, I'd send Lily a birthday and Christmas present. But now, she's gone." "And we need to find her," Rossi said. Emily nodded, still not daring to look at anyone. "We need to find her," Emily repeated. "I - I can't live knowing she's hurt and I couldn't help her."

The team jumped into action. Garcia did her tech stuff, trying to find what she could on her last known whereabouts. Emily and JJ spoke to her parents, trying to get to know them as much as they could. Rossi and Morgan and Reid went to the house, trying to find evidence there. Tara headed to her high school to talk to her little sister and Lily's teachers.

"What... what was she like?" Emily asked the parents, Gale and Tori. "Naughty," Gale sighed. JJ frowned. "What do you mean by that?" "She never listened," Tori said. "She was always pushing the boundaries, arguing." Emily could feel the anger in the pit of her stomach. "How was she at school?" "She never went to school. Didn't even know the meaning of the word," Gale scoffed. "Did you help her?" Emily asked. "We did everything we could," Gale said, nodding. "Honestly, Prentiss. If it wasn't for the technicalities of her childhood, we wouldn't have come. We think it's just drugs. Bad crowd," Gale shrugged. Emily walked out then, unable to control her anger. How dare they?

Morgan's eyes were furrowed as he moved around the girl's bedroom. "I don't know about you but if this was my bedroom, I don't think I'd want to stay either." "There's absolutely no personality here," Reid agreed, pulling back the covers of her bed. Then, he saw it. There was a ragged, grey, small baby's blanket tucked under her pillow. Reid pulled it up, inspecting it. It looked old. "Apart from this." He said. Morgan turned around and took it from his hands before quickly pocketing it. "You can't take that from a crime scene-" Reid said quickly, looking between Morgan and Rossi. "It's for Emily," he said simply, pulling back the girls' pillows but then he saw the picture. Under Lily's pillow was an old, faded picture. Morgan recognised Emily immediately, smiling, holding the girl close to her. The blonde hair leaned over and she was kissing Emily's cheek. Morgan had never, ever seen Emily so happy. Rossi looked over his shoulder, sighing. "She hasn't smiled like that with us, ever," Spencer said, looking at it too. "We have to find whoever the fuck took this kid. It'll destroy Prentisss if anything happens to her." Morgan said. He put the picture back and headed out of the room, dialling Garcia's number.

"Hey my chocolate milkshake," she smirked down the phone. "Please tell me you have some sort of lead," Morgan said, all he could feel was hurt for his best friend. Emily may have been his boss but since her first day, she and morgan had been the best brother-sister duo the team had ever seen. Their humour and personalities went together like the north and south end of magnets and Derek knew that without Lily in her life, Prentiss had been missing a big part of herself. He knew she had her secrets, everyone did. But one this close to her, one this personal, meant Emily had never cared about anything more. "I've managed to track some of her online whereabouts and Morgan, it's not pretty." She told him honestly. "Tell me." "She was very, erm, sexual online," Garcia said. "Porn sites, selling her pictures, exchanging messages. She didn't even try to keep it a secret Derek." "Could that be tied to it? Maybe a fan got freaky?" "I'm not sure. She managed to keep her identity pretty covered up. She was good at that, fake identities, and lives. She has whole documents with alternative lives for different people she spoke to. Hannah. Tina. Josie. All with different types of pictures too, different underwear, different roleplays. Derek, as painful as it is for me to say this, she was good at what she did." "Have you spoken to Prentiss?" "Not yet. I don't know how to tell her," Garcia sighed. "She's hurting." "She's just worried baby girl, don't... don't fret. We'll find Lily and get her help."

"What was your sister like?" Tara asked Skyla, Gale and Tori's biological child. "Private," Skyla whispered. "She never spoke to any of us unless it was arguing. She was always in her room, or out. She'd come home early morning and leave again only hours later. I hardly ever saw her." "So you weren't close?" "Not at all. I can hardly even call her my sister," Skyla shrugged. However, she kept her eyes down, avoiding looking up or around the room. "What's life like at home?" Tara asked, probing more. "Normal," she shrugged. "What's normal to you?" "Just," Skyla sighed. "You know, normal." "Your mum told us that Lily misbehaved, and argued," Tara said. Skyla nodded, agreeing. "Did she argue with you?" "No. Only mum." "What did they argue about?" "How quiet she was. Mum used to say she wasn't even part of the family. She.. she said that if they weren't tied by a contract, she'd be gone." Tara nodded. "Lily used to tell Mum that no one loved her, that she was alone." Skyla sighed, feeling bad for speaking badly about her mum. "Mum loved me, Dad did too. I think it hurt Lily, to see the difference. I tried to be mean too, to them to see what they would do but they didn't do what they did to Lily. I don't know why they hated her."

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ table of contents

[magicxc]

Give Me A Try

Pairings: Carol Danvers x OC!Reader x Steve Rogers

Word Count: 4898

Warnings:  a lil nipple action, exhibitionism, fingering, praise kink, overstimulation, slight dom Carol, cunnilingus, pussy slapping

A/N: This request has been 2 years in the making lmfaoo but I'm truly proud of how this turned out. It was supposed to be a one and done but the plot started PLOTTING and my ass just HAD to keep adding more. Unfortunately I simply cannot write really long one shots for I tire easily, so this will be broken up into a few parts. It's the spur of the moment fics like this that really are my *chef's kiss* 🤌🏾 so by all means, please enjoy!!

Chapter 1

Masterlist

An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of a cure. That idiom is what my mother would constantly sing throughout the house, a hint of a warning attached to it no doubt. But it wasn’t until I was old enough to really understand the meaning did her words resonate with me in regard to my adventurous childhood.

This was often stressed to me in particular situations such as sneaking around a bees nest in hopes of tasting authentic honey, sliding down the house stairs with a snow sled, jumping off high walls in order to swing from a powerline - all acts fueled by my unlimited curiosity. However my mother was adamant that she didn't know where the hospital was until it was time to go to work, as she was a trauma nurse after all. Although I'm sure she would never let me suffer in agony, she wasn’t too keen on being at work if she wasn’t on the clock. 

These days though I've come to view that idiom with a different set of lens. Freshly graduated from high school, I slowly realised that having all the time in the world to choose a career was quite literally a lie. Time seemed sluggish yet instant all the same and soon enough senior year was passing me by. At first I dabbled with the idea of a gap year and spent many community service hours experimenting with different career fields to get a good sense of what I’d like to do forever. Soon enough I landed on dentistry, initially out of job security but eventually because I enjoyed it. 

As someone who donned braces in middle school that confidence boost is something I wish for everyone, plus the salary and flexibility seemed nice. All in all the more I delve into the field, the comfier it felt, like sinking into a fluffy futon that gradually swallows you whole. Unfortunately the path to dentistry was riddled with bullshit pre-reqs. And while I almost had my fuck it moment, I figured this would lead to a more lucrative outcome than the tik tok influencer route that I originally planned; seeing as this way I would have something reliable to fall back on. It seems ma was right after all in the sense that an ounce of prevention is indeed worth a pound of a cure.

“Considering sexuality is a spectrum, that means there has to be exactly one person out there who is the gayest.”

“Carol what the fuck are you on about?” I giggled.

“Hear me out, a leather skirt with the platform boots to match? It doesn't get gayer than that babe.”

“It’s called fashion, thank you.”

“There is literally a picture of Cara Delevigne on your shirt,” she pointed out. "Not to mention those fishnet stockings and that tight ass corset."

“I’m not about to do this with you.”

"Listen sweetness, I don’t mind,” she winked. “You can be gayer than me any day.”

“GOODBYE Carol!” 

“I love youuuu,” she sang as we separated down the halls.

“Yeah yeah, I love you too,” I yelled over my shoulder.

Introductory to College Success is a great starter class for those unsure of what life holds for them, however it’s a money grab for others that are. Riddled with hypothetical questions, life goals, and career fields, the class offers a good outlook on the possibilities of life after highschool, but not for $350 per credit hour. Too bad it’s mandatory for all freshman students. The upside of it all is the easy A that this class is supposed to guarantee. Stepping into the threshold, I settle into the seat closest to the back, more comfortable with the idea of not being seen and certainly not being called on. 

“Good morning class, I’m Professor Rogers and before we get started I need y’all to give me like 10 stars on that rate my professor app.”

Yeahhh this about to be the easiest A I’ve ever gotten cause aint no way.

|~~

“Cam, say sike right the fuck now!!” Carol squealed. “And what did you do after that?”

“I gave him a 5 star rating, what you mean?”

Head thrown back, I watched as Carol bursted at the seams at the retelling of my first day of class. She couldn’t believe it and neither could I if I’m being honest - shock still at the forefront of my mind that Professor Rogers isn’t as mythical as people made him out to be. He’s chill, assigns easy ass work, and has a 100% pass rate with his students. If only all my pre-req professors worked that way.

Word around town is that Mr. Rogers is somewhat of a nepo baby, this job being a direct offer from the college president seeing as Mr. Stark is like an uncle of sorts. Whether he qualifies or not is none of my business so long as I pass his class, and by the looks of it, it’s off to a pretty good start. 

Legs softly brushing against Carols underneath the table of the quaint coffee shop, the loud whiz of the blender fades into the background as I listen intently to her first day of college chronicles. Distant chatter helps fill the noisy atmosphere while the doorbell chimes with each new customer. A quick peek out the window has me noticing that the leaves are beginning to turn and I want so badly to savor the last bit of warmth before fall becomes full fledged. 

Snaking her hand in mine, I kiss along her warm skin, a request in between each peck of us finishing this conversation outside. Thankfully it doesn’t take her long to accept, that same hand reaching around my face to twist her fingers through my curls. Wrapping up the last bits of our coffee we leave the coffee shop, fingers interlocked in lieu of our next mission.

|~~

“Ohhh, one of my professors mentioned a popular lake nearby that’s supposed to be really scenic,” she quipped over the steering wheel.

“Is it isolated? Cause you know I don’t get down like that Carol, that's the type of shit that’ll have us end up on the ID channel.”

“Relax, it’s like 5 minutes off the main road and it’s actually known to be a lovers paradise."

Eyeing the cell phone mounted on the dash for directions, one hand on the wheel while the other cradles the back of my headrest, she makes a particularly tricky maneuver; her tongue darting between pink lips as it hangs on the corner in concentration. Fingers reaching into my hair, I gently twirl them around, entranced at how she manages to make the mundane look hot.

As racy as my thoughts get rolling for Carol, it's truly the little things she does that warms my insides - like how during the winter she puts my towel in the dryer so it’s extra warm when I get out the shower or making me a pottery mug just for tea after learning that I’d drink it almost every day. She usually takes the world for what it is and views it with a small sense of naivety, choosing instead to see the good in all; and sometimes I wish, if only for a second, that I could see things through her lens - with such light and curiosity. 

“Now I see why the lake is named Shady Depths," she said pulling into the bushes.

“Now Carol-”

“I know, I know, trust me I had the same idea; but apparently it garnered its name from the many cheating scandals that took place there.”

“Girl, not you taking me to a place where relationships meet their end.”

Tossing a bottle cap at me, Carol goes on to mention how we can be the reason the lake gains another type of reputation and also that our relationship shouldn’t be built around superstition.

“Mhmm, are you sure that’s the ONLY reason it’s called Shady Depths?”

“Don’t tell me you’re getting scared?” she feigns surprise.

“Being scared and aware are two very different things.”

“As someone majoring in dentistry I’m pretty sure you can handle a few minutes at this lake.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” I asked, slurping the last bits of coffee, the hallow noise of the straw a clear indication that the sticky goodness was finished. 

“Cam, the human mouth is terrifying. I saw what my niece's looked like before the silver teeth and let's just say I was never the same.”

At that I choked on my spit, a haughty combination of laughter and hacking the result of my carelessness. But I can’t help being so care-free around Carol, her authentic nature comforting enough to bring out my kooky personality.

It’s been about two years since we’ve made things official. We’d met sophomore year at our highschools trivia night - a game night dedicated to all the social club participants to celebrate the end of the school year. Chocked full of snacks, fun music, and fierce competition it was typically the highlight of the final semester for all involved. At some point during the games, Carol and I had found ourselves on opposing teams, making it to the final round three different times, and what started out as initial frustration soon blossomed into genuine curiosity. 

Shortly after, the familiar face that I’d pass by in the hallways began accompanying me to after school hangouts, study sessions, and the occasional sleep over. A soft brushing of the hands here and prolonged eye lingering there, we’d come to realise that there was something between the two of us and while Carol had always been so sure of herself, it was me that had to work up the courage to be at the same level of comfort. All it took was one rainy night and a promise to see where things would take us that led to this very moment - pulling into what feels like a page out of a magazine book. 

While secluded areas aren't typically my thing, this lake does bring a soothing sense of familiarity to it as if I, too, had spent some fun nights out here. There’s a dock at the edge of the shore that extends about 100 feet into the water, with a pool ladder that dips into what looks to be no more than five steps beneath the chilling surface. As the sun sets beneath the horizon its golden rays spread across each ripple of water, glimmering with the last remnants of the physical representation of the day. Although inviting, I know the water is far from warm, the sun providing only a source of light rather than heat; however it can be a relief on a hot sunny day as opposed to the cooling 70° that drifts through the autumn air. There’s chairs scattered near the dock, remains of what looks to be a bonfire littered around, and deep into the corners are a pair of hammocks tied to the trees. This is definitely a place I can see myself visiting if not for the scenery, then certainly the serenity that it brings.

Cutting the engine, Carol shifts toward me, her eyes gleaming with mischief, an I told you so on the tip of her tongue as she clocked the way that I admired the area. 

“I don’t wanna hear it. You ate that lil one thing or whatever.”

“I did what?” she asked, hand cupping her ear. 

“You did your big one Carol damn,” I chuckled. “This lake is actually really quaint.”

“Mhmm yeah, some of the locals were talking about it earlier and I just had to see for myself what all the hype was about.” “I genuinely wouldn’t mind coming out here with some snacks next time or even just to do some homework,” I commented, gaze lingering over the small waves.

“I’m looking at a snack right now,” Carol chirped, tongue darting out of her mouth and swiping across her lips.

Leaning across the console, just low enough for my breasts to peek over the neckline of my shirt, I reach over and slid my tongue against hers; the feel of it moist and thick as she looped it around mine, mouth opening to accept me entirely. The bitter taste of coffee greets my taste buds and I delve deeper into the kiss, nose brushing against Carols as I gladly accept the remnants of her earlier refreshment. 

Tracing over the hem of my shirt, Carols expert hands trail upward, her nimble finger tips rolling each nipple through the fabric with her thumb and forefinger until I cry out into the kiss. 

Mouth swallowing my mewls, Carol releases me with a slippery pop, suggesting that we take this party outside, preferably on the hood of the car.

“Are you serious?” I screeched, eyes bulging from their sockets.

“C’mon, I thought you’ve always wanted to try a little exhibitionism.”

“Yeah, back then when I was young and dumb.”

“You’re still young and dumb,” she teased.

A few playful slaps land on her arm at the remark, her insistence becoming more convincing by the minute. After all, we were the only ones here and the place echoed loud enough to hear any approaching tires against the gravel, which would give us just enough time to collect ourselves. 

“Carol you have until sunset, so you better make it quick,” I urged. 

“By the looks of it that’s in 15 minutes, 20 tops,” she replied. “It’s all good though cause I’ve made you cum in less.”

Heat rising to the surface of my cheeks, I have to look away, her aura and down right naughty words too much for me to physically handle at this point. Using her fingers, she redirects my face toward hers, pecking my lips while lightly dragging hers to the side of my jaw, effectively ordering me to get out of the car and onto the hood.

Pulling away and stepping out, I gently shut the door close, trying my best to keep quiet in the off chance that lingering ears are close by. We both saunter to the front of the car, my hand reaching over the steel to get a feel of if I can comfortably sit there. Palm pressed flatly against the surface, Carol stands behind me, her face in my neck as her palm sits parallel to mine.

“Feels *kiss* about *kiss* right *kiss* to *kiss* me.”

“Are you sure this won’t burn me? I have very sensitive thighs,” I nervously admitted, bottom lip caught between my teeth.

“I’ve seen you shower in water hotter than this sweetness, but if it gets too much just let me know and we’ll stop, mhmkay.”

Nose crinkling at the thought that we’re actually going through with this, I gently hop on top of the car and carefully scoot my way up to the middle of the hood. 

“God I’m so glad that you wore a skirt today.”

It was primarily a fashion choice. Had I known that it’d be serving other purposes, I would’ve opted for a softer material rather than this sticky leather. 

Lips harshly colliding with mine, Carol's eagerness is on full display, teeth clashing in the mix of our spit swapping kiss. Her hands hike my skirt up as I lift my hips to help with the process. Sliding my panties to the side, she wastes no time in shoving her fingers inside me, twisting them around to get an idea of just how much moisture needs to be added to the equation, if any.

“What a slut,” she taunts. “Five minutes in and you’re already wet enough to end the water crisis.” 

“Carol,” I whimpered, annoyed that she can find the time to talk while her fingers have come to a standstill. 

“Nuh uh you want it so bad, come show me just how you want my fingers to feel.”

‘Wha- huh? I don’t understand.”

“Ride my fingers and if you do it well enough, I may just use them.”

“Ca-”

“Ride them,” she demanded. 

Legs spread apart, I dig my heels in the bumper of the car for balance, hips rising ever so slightly as I begin to carefully drive them towards Carols fingers. Slowly sliding down I start a slight bouncing movement, shifting down and then back up again as Carol intentionally keeps her fingers still. 

“That’s it,” she coos. “Just keep going like that and you’ll find your groove.”

And just like that I went, feet planted onto the car as I did my best to glide down her slender fingers. My palms dig into the hood, its warmth radiating heat to my already hot body. And thankfully it starts to feel good, good enough for me to inch my way further down each time, careful not to slip entirely. 

“Good girl,” she praises. “Look at you, deep in concentration just for a taste of my fingers.”

My thighs begin to burn at the balance I have to maintain, forehead moist at the workout I find myself in. But still I continue, deliberate in my ministrations, this time reaching for the base of her knuckles.

At that she pulls back, making my goal post further than it needs to be, frustration etched onto my features.

“That’s cheating,” I huffed. 

“Yeah well, I can’t make it too easy for you,” she chirped. 

“This isn’t easy at all.”

“Nothing in life ever is, now do it again.”

“I’ll drop if I-”

At that she thrusts her fingers into my core, quick enough to surprise me and deep enough to cause a little discomfort, my retort effectively cut off.

“You’ll what, you'll drop? When have I ever dropped you?” she questioned. “When did you stop trusting me huh?”

Reaching forward she drags my bottom lip forward with her teeth, burying them into the soft flesh until my whines crescendoed. She eventually lets it go, pulling back only to scold me further. 

“Did you actually think me so careless that I’d let you hurt yourself? That I can’t see past my own lust?”

Was it annoyance or anger? I couldn’t really tell. Carol’s fingers never slowed down enough for my mind to catch up with her words. Insistent on pumping them inside of me, all I could do was sit there and wail, her digits now curled upward as she continued thrusting them.

“And do you really think that I should let you cum?”

Now that I caught. Caught it quick enough to realise that my hips were pushing against her fingers, meeting them each time her hand pulled back in a desperate attempt to hit my peak. But the implication that I may not, had my eyes glossy with tears, irritated that Carol could even think to deprive me after all those hoops she's so excitedly make me jump through. 

“Don’t even worry, cause I’m about to give you all that and more.”

Thumb placed on the pearl of my clit, she vigorously circles it, her fingers continuing their come hither motion as my hips bounced against her knuckles. Belly caved in, chest tight, and head numb, I couldn’t help the tears that brimmed over and cascaded down my cheeks, head thrown back as I felt the water works slide down my ass.

My brain was so foggy, it didn’t register that Carol never stopped. It took me coming again to notice that she intended to work my body past the confines of comfort and on any other day I truly wouldn’t mind the challenge. But here, in this secluded ass wilderness, with darkness just around the corner had me calling a timeout. 

Gathering the little energy I have left, both arms shot out and locked around her dominant one, slowing her skilled movements in a pathetic plea to slow down or stop altogether; begging for which I truly couldn't tell.

“I don't know, it wouldn’t seem fair to cheat you out of feeling so good,” she feigns concern.

“Carol please don’t.”

“Silly me, I forgot just how much of a hands on learner you are, like when you learned just how many times you could cum.”

Truth be told I still don’t know as I lost count after the eighth. Tales from the straights had me nervous about being able to make it to the finish line, let alone being able to do it more than once in a single setting. However, questioning Carol on such a fact did give me the answers I needed, just not in the way I expected as I passed out that night.

Carol has a way of telling me what I want, but to the extreme. This is her weird way of building trust and proving that actions do speak louder than words, so the next time she asks me to ride her fingers, I'm gonna do that shit with no hands to see just how good those reflexes are when put to the test. 

“Besides, what happened to the whole sunset thing?” she quipped.

“The deal was you could make me cum before it sets,” I panted. “Now lets see what I could do with the six minutes of light we have left.”

Eyebrows arched, a challenging grin meets my tired one, Carols competitive urge no doubt itching to stop her in her tracks so that it gets the chance to shine. Slowly removing her fingers from inside me, she coaxes my mouth open for me to clean them, rolling each digit over my tongue as she drives them forward in a rocking type motion. 

“You have exactly five minutes to show me how this wouldn’t be a complete waste of time,” she cautioned, diving in for a soft kiss.

Helping me off the car, Carol mounts herself atop the hood in my place, watching through hooded eyes as I fixed my clothing. Skirt straightened and shirt tucked, I look up to see that Carol already assumed the position, her legs spread wide with her clothed pussy on full display. 

“I see you get a kick out of being a little dominatrix,” I teased, referring to the damp spot in the middle of her underwear. 

“Oh trust me there isn’t anything little about me, and you have four minutes left before I get down there and show you.”

She always has to one up me, but I’m gonna take a page out of her book and let my actions do the talking. I wanna see just how smart that mouth is when she gets to whimpering like a bitch in heat.

Wasting no time, I attach my lips to her pussy through the underwear, her sharp intake of breath just waiting to let loose at the inevitable contact of skin on skin; and as much as I want to hold out, as much as I want to drag out this feeling, the sun won't last too much longer.

Slipping my fingers inside the fabric she finally lets loose, blowing out the sweet release that lets me know that I'm on the right track. Tongue darting past my lips, I lick a trail up the center, making sure to stop at her dripping heat before diving inside and twisting it around. Carols sticky excitement gets smeared across my chin in the process of it all and I gently scrape my teeth across her lips to keep her feisty ass on edge. 

Glancing above, we lock eyes but mine can’t help focusing on the sky behind her which seems to be darkening by the second and so I drag my face upward, tongue noisily sliding across her slick pussy until it reaches her shy bud peeking through the hood. 

“Even in sex you manage to be challenging,” I taunted, palm rising up to land on her core. 

Her hips jump forward and I have to physically hide the smile that threatens to creep up, my hand once more connecting with her skin in attempt to see just how flustered she’d get. 

thwack

“There she is, she’s just a little shy huh?” I cooed, thumb coming up to circle the now fully protruded bud. “Talk to me Carol, why you so quiet all of a sudden mhmm?”

“I’m just waiting -”

Before she could finish, I clamped my mouth to her clit, squeezing and sucking until I knew for sure any fiery remark was effectively doused. It’s such a turn on for me, watching my strong girl get so weak in the knees, watching intently as she ate her fucking words every time.

She can’t help but buck those slutty hips toward my face, unintentionally chasing the high I’d so gladly give her, but its the closing of her legs that has my face upturned. Thighs locking around my neck, I use both my hands to pin them to the cooling hood, my lips now a vacuum as it harshly suctions against her glistening pearl. She settles for aimlessly thrashing about, the steel of the car bending in ways Im not entirely sure we can fix.

“You have tw- two minutes lef- uhhh ahhh,” she screeches.

She never misses a chance to talk her shit and I'll never miss a opportunity to turn down a challenge, adding my two fingers to the mix to help speed things along.

The car shakes viciously, her thighs struggling underneath my hand, my fingers no doubt leaving behind an imprint of just how good this night will end for her. Soon enough Carol’s fingernails graze my scalp, her hands pulling at my hair in all sorts of gratifying ways; a heavy hum of approval slipping past my lips and sending direct shock waves to her insides. 

The driving of my fingers never cease, and it's the way she clenches her hips, lifting them ever so slightly that lets me know just how dangerously close she is. Thirsty seconds left on the clock and I all but power speed through the final seconds, my mouth no doubt borderline painful on her now swollen clit.

In the knick of time I feel the dam of Carols walls break down, overflowing with her sticky essence as a result of probably the hardest work I’ve put in. She lies flatly on the car, her chest heavily panting as she takes a minute to rejoin me back on earth.

“Talk to me nice or don’t talk to me twice. FIVE MINUTES? Who the fuck could ever get you going in such a short time?” I bragged.

“You did your big one Cam damn,” she mimicked from earlier today, lengthy breaths puffing past her mouth as she struggles to catch herself.

“Yeah that’s right, now come put those lips on mine and see just how fucking delectable you taste.”

Smiling, she raises up off the hood of the car, grunting at the effort it took and slid down ever so slightly until her mouth met mine; soft kisses at first, that soon turned passionate; her hands coming up to cup my cheeks for an easier maneuver. 

Splashing from the water breaks the kiss, both of us craning our necks to see where the source is coming from, but all that greets us is how beautifully the moon kisses the rippling water, it’s pale reflection sitting atop the never ending tide. All remnants of the day is gone, the darkness swallowing the area whole and now adding a eerie vibe to the once peaceful scene. 

“C’mon C, let's head out,” I suggested. “I don’t care what that sound was and I’m not sticking around to find out. 

“It’s probably just a tree branch or a small animal taking a nightly dive,” she chuckled. 

“Again, I’m sticking around to find out.”

Laughing, she jumps from the hood, her wobbly footing almost sending her crashing to the ground. Helping with her stance, we fix her dress and head inside the car for some relief from the cooling breeze. 

“Whadya say, think we can buff out those dents?” Carol teases, revving the engine.

“Girl that’s tomorrow's problem. All I care about right now is a shower and some food.”

“Yes ma’am,” she concedes, her hand finding a permanent place on my thigh. “How are you feeling? I wasn’t too rough was I?”

“No, just mean,” I confess. 

“I’m sorry sweetness, sometimes I can go a little overboard. But all you gotta do is say the word and I’ll stop right in my tracks, knuckles deep and all.”

Palm slapped across my mouth, I fell into a fit of giggles at Carol's refusal to mince her words. Thankfully she’s never gotten too rough with me and was always right there with the perfect amount of aftercare to make sure that things never made me feel degraded.

Carol’s rough is borderline dominatrix whereas my rough is just me talking my shit. We both switch depending on our immediate moods, sex between us a combination of dom and sub behaviours from both parties, but at the end of it all is where we come together to make sure that everyone is on one accord.

“Im gonna run us a bath when we get back to the apartment and we can order from that Thai place down the street?” she offers. 

“Thats only if I don't fall asleep right away.”

“Oh sweetness, I won’t let that happen. Cause you still owe me two more rounds and I’ll be damned if I don’t get them.”

[hekateinhell]

Tell me abt preggers armand please. I have a fic im working on and need 2 hear other peoples opinions on this topic 😈

🥹🥹🥹

okay so first of all i'm so upset i didn't see this ask until i checked my askbox on my phone which i almost NEVER do anymore since i'm getting old and prefer to just answer things via laptop where i can keyboard smash at full capacity raw and unfiltered but like MY DMS ARE OPEN I'M NOT ALWAYS THE FASTEST RESPONDER BECAUSE I'M IN GRAD SCHOOL AND LIFE AND WHATEVER BUT I DON'T TRUST TUMBLR ANYMORE BECAUSE I DIDN'T SEE THIS UNTIL YESTERDAY ON DESKTOP TUMBLR PLS DON'T DEPRIVE ME OF MY PEOPLE

now that that's out of the way:

it depends! you have to be more specific, like are we talking vampires? human AU? BECAUSE I'VE GOT SOMETHING FOR EACH

canon verse/vampire:

don't ask me to explain the science or whatever lol i don't care, i just skip to the pregnancy part!

i think armand would be SO FUCKING FERAL and defensive, like he's lost so much and been so traumatized in so many ways, the idea of anything happening to his baby would have him in full gremlin mode. imagine a feral cat hissing and spitting and clawing and biting (not for food but for violence)!

on the other hand, he'd be obsessively bonded to his baby daddy (daddies, if there's multiple babies). he is not letting them out of his sight (i default to lestat here LMAO listen i want them to knock each other up so bad--separate universes obviously)

HE WOULD NEST SO FUCKING HARD!!! i was going to say i apologize for my brain but then i realized that i don't actually but i want him to nest on a pile of lestat's clothes and give birth right there like a fucking cat 🥹

ALTERNATIVELY THOUGH: i also had this idea that's like louis impregnates lestat and armand at the same time and they get to go through their pregnancies together and it's every bit as horny, hellish, and sweet as you'd imagine 🫶🏻 i've said it before and i'll say it again--lestat would be the WORST pregnant person ever dead or alive!!

now for human AUs:

i guess my thoughts here primarily but not exclusively exist within the same universe as I Feel You (sorry idk if you read that fic but tl;dr- IT'S PWP OF TRANS!ARMAND 2/3RDS OF THE WAY INTO GETTING A TRAIN RUN ON HIM BY HIS BOYFRIENDS LESTAT, LOUIS, AND DANIEL AND HE'S YOUNG DUMB AND FULL OF CUM SO YOU KNOW IT'S JUST A MATTER OF TIME BEFORE HE'S GOTTA PEE ON A STICK RIP BOYS)

i think each of his boyfriends would handle the whole thing differently! lestat would be so over the moon because he's careless (clearly) but also so damaged from his own childhood he would just see it as a chance for a do-over, reality and responsibility be damned. lestat's on sex and backrub duty, and he's good at it (the backrubs i mean, sex is a 50/50 but you know what, at least he's enthusiastic and good at manhandling armand so that's 70% of it right now and the 30% is absolutely ridiculous horny pregnancy hormones)

louis panics internally as he immediately starts creating a spreadsheet of their finances. outwardly though, he's very calm and supportive and he's the one who's most able to comfort armand the most and settle him down during his crazy mood swings. armand basically lives in louis's baggy sweaters during the last trimester

daniel panics outwardly (listen LOL the whole premise of Our House is that human!daniel molloy is not ready for children and i find it hard to budge from that mindset, but he could ease into the Cool Uncle role quite nicely). he handles distractions and food cravings, and he might not be down to be a dad yet but he does buy very thoughtful and sentimental baby gifts every now and then that make armand tear up

i was gonna add mermaid AU thoughts but then i remembered armand's laying eggs instead (he's feral during that whole process too so i guess it's similar to the vampire version. i just love him so much okay!!!)

OH ONE LAST VERY IMPORTANT THING

pregnant!armand fics on ao3 I'M CRAZY ABOUT AND HAVE REREAD AT LEAST 10 TIMES:

shelter by @rainbowcarousels

it must be the clouds in my eyes and everything in that series by @its-ness-ness

[akafred32092]

On Grief and Processing Loss

I started watching Dimension 20 in January of 2021 & quickly became feral. I consumed all of the Fantasy High content available, the 1st season of The Unsleeping City, and A Crown of Candy in less than 2 months. I took a pause on new content for a little bit after that just to process everything that had happened in ACOC, but the 1st season of Fantasy High became my go-to background noise for a while. I would listen to it while taking long drives to visit family or if I needed something to fall asleep or even work to. Call it an emotional support show or a hyper fixation, but either way, Fantasy High was a huge part of my early 2021.

In April of that year, one of my great-aunts passed away. Though I had seen her on and off in my early childhood, she'd moved back near my grandparents when I was a teenager, and I had a lot of memories with her. I loved her dearly, but it was also complicated. Complicated in ways I won't linger on in this random post on the internet, but in a way that kind of tinged some memories I had of spending time with her.

As I was visiting with my family after her funeral, I kept thinking about Sandra Lynn and the "You're allowed to be a complex person" line. The idea that my aunt could be the reason for a lot of good memories but was also a different person to different people & she was "allowed" to be a multifaceted human being really healed something for me in that moment. I know it's easy to say that in my late 20s that was something I should have realized before then, but sometimes you just need the right set of words to make everything click, and the Intrepid Heroes provided that for me.

Fast forward to this week. I got a call that one of my best friends, someone I've know for over 20 years, a person who I grew up next to and whose existence was irrevocably tangled with my own passed away suddenly. It's been *a lot* do deal with over the last few days. The pain and grief have hit me in waves and it's been overwhelming.

When I did turn on something just to have noise in the house, it was again Dimension 20 related. I just turned on the Sig Figs Collective and had it going for a while. (of course "Love Me for Me" would just have me sobbing again)

I got that call in the early hours of the morning on Monday & just cocooned myself for a while on the couch. Tuesday came and with that a new episode of Worlds Beyond Number. It was a welcome distraction & a known comfort show.

The scene with Eursulon and The Fox outside of the bathroom had me full body cackling, and it was the 1st time I had laughed since I got the news. It was the perfect thing to break the cycle of doom I was stuck in.

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

That was 6 months ago. This has been sitting in my drafts for 6 whole months. I knew I'd post it eventually, and here we are.

In the time since my friend's passing, actual plays have continued to be a huge emotional support and comfort. Most recently, as I've been working my way through NADDPOD, I got to the "I will be your wings" scene a few weeks ago, and I had a good cry in my car as I thought about how even with my friend gone, her kids and all of our shared memories of her help keep a part of her alive.

This journey of navigating life after such a huge loss is still an evolving story, but I am eternally grateful for the friends and family that allow me to tell random stories about my friend (and coworkers who are extremely understanding of times I need to go have a cry in the bathroom) and these shows and podcasts that help provide laughs, comfort, and even catharsis as my new reality is still forming.

[haretic]

to: mom

i've been trying to think of what to say for hours. days now. two to be precise. you came in my room and yelled at me for stealing from you again, stealing hair ties, bobby pins, cigarettes. i tried to tell you, if it wasn't yours, it'd be someone elses, and i don't know whats in them. you didn't get it, you didn't understand why i smoked in the first place, didn't understand why i had to be so horrible all the time, why i've been so horrible since i was a kid.

i think if we had a better relationship you wouldn't mind the hair ties and bobby pins. i wouldn't be so stressed. i wouldn't smoke. it would all be alright. but you had already decided who i was long before i even understood what it meant to be a person, and i still don't know how to escape it.

i remember waking up, i was seven or eight, and from then until i was about 11, i would wake up periodically from panic attacks. it would take me hours to go back to sleep. i sat in my bed sobbing and hoping someone would hear me and come see if i was okay, which i spent most of my childhood doing. i was so scared. all you did was come in and scream at me to shut up and go to bed. i had disturbed you. you were mad at me, i couldn't control my emotions and it inconvenienced you. dad came and laid with me until i felt safe enough to sleep again. you never brought it up again. to you it was a vague annoyance, but to me it was everything. you had no idea i had been sexually assaulted my whole childhood, no idea how bad the bullying had gotten, no idea about being suicidal at 7.

thats a lie, you knew. you saw it in my behaviours, you saw it in what i searched on the ipad you monitored, you told me to stop looking those things up and stopped digging deeper. to you it was all just an inconvenience, to me it was my whole life. my formative years. i spent it all gauging how you would react to me displaying emotions, wishing i could be better for you, that you would put in any amount of effort to understand me, but you refused to every. time. you ignored every important sign, the self harm, drinking, smoking, staying out or up late, being constantly tired, constantly fighting at school, with you. you didn't care about the root cause of it all, you only cared about the symptoms. like a tree, you tried to cut my issues down by chopping out the branches instead of bringing and axe to the stump. you could've, at any time, but you were convinced i didn't need help, that i just needed to try harder, that i liked being the way i was. who would like that?

you had already made up your mind, and there was nothing i could do to change it. and it confused me. so i sat on the sidewalk at midnight on my way to a friends house and i smoked the cigarettes i had stolen from you. i had asked you to say goodbye to me before i left that night, you said you didn't want to, and you didn't understand why i had to go. i told you i just had to. you didn't want to understand that to me, it was more than just a spat over me stealing your cigarettes. you made it clear i would never be who you wanted me to be, and that i would always be the horrible person you've thought i was since before i could remember. i couldn't be in our house when you thought those things. i needed to get out before i drowned in it, and you had no idea. like a willing ignorance, you forgot every thing that you'd ever done that changed my brain chemistry, that altered the path my life would take in my childhood. you begged me to tell you why i acted like this, but you never listened to the answer, so i stopped trying.

it feels suffocating sometimes, knowing what you think of me, but still reaching out to you. i try so hard to get your attention, to get you to care about me, even remotely, but you always shut it down. i text you when i'm at school, when i'm anxious, or when i'm bored, just for some reassurance that you want to be my mom, that you care for me, but you don't. you shut me down, all the time. you shut me out, and then you ask me why we don't have a good relationship but i keep begging. it gets to a pathetic point. i just wanted you to be my mom, and to care about me, but for some reason you rejected me every chance you got. it was easily fixable.

you told me last night you didn't think we would last like this, but we've been lasting like this for nearly two decades now, i'm just tired of putting in the effort. i can't change your mind, and i'm done trying. i'm whatever you say i am. i don't deserve anything i have and i won't make it in my life. thats fine with me. you say i can't move out, that i'm too immature for that, when i act like this around you, but the thing is that its only around you. i act like this around you. you're my mother, and you've never mothered me, and i still want you to before i move out. i'll be too old to be mothered soon and i want you to try to care before its too late, but you just don't.

i wish i could go back in time and try it all over again. maybe i didn't try hard enough to change your mind about me. i was young, but i could've done more to get you to like me. i wish i had. i wish i had my mom, unconditionally. not overshadowed by all the evil you think i bring into the world. i wish you would love me before i'm gone.

[saintsenara]

it's sirius' birthday today, so - naturally - i have decided to depress myself by writing a little story about the the great tragedy of his happy life being snatched away from him at the ripe old age of almost twenty-two.

the title for this pieces comes not from the philip larkin poem of the same name - although it's not not sirius-coded - but from the song live fast, die old by frank turner, which is the most james-and-sirius thing i've ever heard.

September 1979

‘It is a miracle you’re not dead.’

‘I thought I was about to be. You should have seen the way he was brandishing those fire tongs.’

‘I think you might actually be the luckiest bastard alive, Pads. I’m in awe.’

‘Well, I wouldn’t have wanted to die without you being there to witness it. If I’m going to get my head caved in by Mad-Eye Moody for breaking a mug without giving him prior warning and making him think there’s a Death Eater lurking in his kitchen cupboards, then I expect you to enjoy watching it happen.’

‘As, indeed, I would. Pass me that bottle?’

Sirius hands him a bottle in which the last dregs of a very good firewhisky - the mellow, amber colour of late summer - undulates. James swigs from it.

‘You look like a twat doing that.’

‘No I don’t! I look cool!’

‘You look like a fifteen-year-old having his first drink.’

James snorts. ‘Listen, you know I don’t, because you were there when I had my first drink. So you know that -’

‘- the fact you’re not hurling your guts up crying about how you’ll never win the world cup means that this is nothing like that.’

‘Exactly.’

‘Fair enough.’

James passes the bottle back and flops once more on the grass. The golden haze of sunrise slouches over the garden - catching the lime-green leaves of the beech and the dew-drops on the spider’s webs hanging from the door of the shed James never uses - and the whole garden seems to be encased in glass; a terrarium - shimmering and shining - which has been made into their perfect habitat, like the weird moss-filled thing Bertram bloody Aubrey used to have for his toad.

He imagines some benevolent owner lovingly arranging the detritus of their impromptu party - he’d only come round to update James and Lils on his latest meeting with Mad-Eye, Dumbledore’s orders, and that was fifteen hours ago - on the lawn around them and starts laughing.

‘What are you giggling about?’ grins James, his eyes glittering like caramel as it’s poured from a pan. A surefire sign that his mind was turned towards mischief.

‘I don’t even fucking know. Fucking everything, Prongs.’

James starts laughing too. He has a perfect laugh - uproarious and rich, the sort of laugh you wish could be preserved in amber - and it’s perfect for that morning, with its golden dawn and the crisp-apple bite to the air which says that autumn, and its promise of driving Lily to distraction by carving rude things into pumpkins, is on its way. It’s perfect for that perfect morning, when they’re both that brilliant sort of drunk which makes the soft blue of the sky seem all the clearer.

He lies back, the grass tickling his cheek, and looks up at the heavens, which stretch endlessly before him, revealed bit-by-bit by the new day’s light.

That horrible house - the prison of his childhood - seems so far away that he’s not sure he didn’t dream the whole thing.

It seems like something out of a fairytale - the sort of topsy-turvy formlessness of fantasy - to think that he had once been so miserable that he’d longed to self-destruct, to shatter like a dry bone and be scattered. It seemed absurd to look back at his sixteen-year-old self, rattling around on the Knight Bus as it sped him to James, and to freedom, and realise that he had once been unable to comprehend the idea of being truly happy.

But he is. Life stretches before him unfettered, beckoning to him and James and winking knowingly. You won’t grow old gracefully, it says, with a mischievous glint in its eye. Neither will he

It’s got that right. He and James made a promise within seconds of meeting to still be friends when they were ninety, living next door to each other and scandalising all the village witches and impressing all the village children with the rumours about their dissolute youths. And dissolute middle ages.

‘You’re my best friend,’ says James, because the whisky’s hit him. ‘We’re going to be best friends forever. Even when we’re fucking ancient.’

‘Yep. I know we are.’

‘This was a great party, wasn’t it, Pads?’

‘Party of the year, I’ve heard.’

‘I think I’d like every party I ever have to be like this.’ He’s staring at the sky, squinting behind his glasses, suddenly introspective. The sunlight makes his skin look like honey.

Sirius does the same. ‘I promise that all your parties will start because I have a run-in with Alastor Moody, Lils wants an excuse to open a bottle of cherry brandy, and you want the chance to act like a soft cunt at five in the morning,’ he says, watching a beam of sunlight shimmers behind a cloud, turning its solid white fluffiness into something sheer - gauzy - like a veil.

‘Cheers, mate. Appreciate it.’

The undulating blue-and-gold of morning is so beautiful, clouds rising up like castles from the sea. If Sirius wasn’t so happy it would be painful to see it. As it is…

‘I think sometimes that me and Lils will move by the sea,’ says James. ‘When we’re older. When we have a couple of kids. Yeah, we’ll move by the sea. And have parties in a house all filled with light.’

[multigenderswag]

A Bisexual Bigendered Performance Piece

By Nadyalec

Trikone Magazine Vol. 14, No. 3: Gender Mischief (1999)

I am my father's son.

My father's father died when he was a baby. And his favorite sister, Nadya, died a few years later. He told me that at her funeral he lay on the floor and told everybody he was dead, too. But the adults just kept stepping around him. I keep thinking of him lying there on the floor looking up at the long legs of adults walking around him. He doesn't believe in God, has told me that he wishes he could, but faith has been missing in him since childhood.

He was sent off to boarding school, where he says the other boys were very tough. But they left him alone because his teachers respected his intelligence, and he learned to seem calm no matter how he was feeling.

His intelligence and his reserve kept him safe, and he learned never to show loneliness or weakness.

As a young man he came to this country to go to get his PH.D. in Economics in Texas. He was an ardent socialist, and he used to tell me stories about how members of his socialist group would be exiled for disagreements over a single word or a single point. It reminds me of my time in lesbian activism.

Because his English wasn't good yet, he says that sometimes he went throughbooks looking for sentences to cut out to put together papers. I think about that when￾ever I put together a zine.

I am my father's son. I have his reserve, his intelligence, his quickness in reading others' emotions. I have his respect and belief in words and ideas. But I am also vulnerable in the way that he could never afford to be. When I'm a boy, I'm a very delicate one.

I am my mother's daughter.

This weekend my mom helped me move again. She, my new housemate, my brother and I flung around furniture, roped my mattress, to the car, and basically built up some muscle strength. My mom's helped me with every move over the last couple years, and there've been lots of them. Not bad for a woman past 50.

Since I was a kid my mom has done all the heavy lifting at my parents' house, mowing the lawn and clipping the hedges while my dad was inside reading a book. I remember her grunts meant to rebuke him whenever she did something especially hard-this was the work that the men in her family had always done. But if my dad wouldn't do it, then she would, definitely, no matter how much it hurt. She had her uterus removed a couple of years ago. I never really got the whole story since I was away at college. Apparently her uterus collapsed years ago, from all the heavy lifting she does, and she just ignored the pain for years. I'm not sure what made her finally listen to the doctors and have it out.

I inherited that too. I hurt myself a lot, walk into doors, lift things I shouldn't, ignore pain. Learned not to take painkiller when I was growing up, and not to mention anything hurt unless it was killing me. The time my father met me in the emergency room after I was punched in the jaw, I wound up comforting and calming him while waiting for an x-ray. That's a particularly horrible thought to me now, me speaking words of comfort through grind￾ing, broken bones. I've tried to chill out since then. You can take macho too far.

Still, when one of my fag friends comes up to me, lifts me and swings me around in greeting, I'll be damned if I'm not going to do the same. I don't care if he is four times my size. I may be small and cute but I am a tough woman. I'm my mother's daughter, after all.

I am a woman.

It had been a long time since I had a girlfriend. I think of it like a desert, miles of hot sand with the occasional patch of green. That was me, wandering in my celibacy, with these rare and precious one time things. We had been flirting a lot, this whole do I like her, does she like me, what are we going to do about it thing. And I had been talking about how much I wanted to try pouring wax on somebody ever since that party when those women did it to me. She was interested, and it seemed like something sexy but safe we could do, cause both knew we weren't going to be lovers. So I'm coming home from band practice, taking these long easy curves on the Beltway, thinking about her naked on my bed. Got home and she and my housemate had melted the candle in a pot of boiling water, with much joking we made it into the bedroom. I kicked my housemate out while she was undressing because he was being too sarcastic.

She has a beautiful body. So many curves and roundnesses. Generous and lush. She lay on her back and let me pet her, run my fingers over her smooth skin. I was telling her how gorgeous she is, how glad I was to touch her.

I started out very gentle with the wax, pouring from high up so that it could cool on the way down, watching it flow onto her and smoothing it with my hands. It was warm, and so was she, and I got caught up in seeing how close I could get the candle to her skin before pouring, watching the way it ran and folded onto her body, the patterns that it made. I hadn't know how she'd like the pain, but she was making these sounds that told me she did, and I was awed by her strength and bravery, by how close she let me get to her clit.

Fucking is too intimate for a one-time thing. I get lonely afterwards. But I wanted to so bad, and so did she, and I couldn't stop myself. Her warmth and moisture on my fingers. Me pushing her open, that tight sweet place opening for me. Everything going hazy and sharp at the same time, and me just wanting it to go on forever, listening to every word, every sound, and wanting it never to stop.

Afterwards I lay on top of my housemate, holding him down with my body while she hit him with my riding crop. And we got dressed, and went to this bar, and I got sad because she's not my girlfriend and never will be.

Next time I melted that candle I dis￾covered how well wax bolds scent: it smelled exactly like her.

l am a boy.

… I didn't think he would ever letme touch him because I know that he's straight. I don't understand why he hangs out with me, why he keeps letting me tag along, going to movies with him and his roommates. It's hard to talk when he's in the room.

This one night, after the movie, all his roommates gradually crashed, leaving me more and more alone with him. I was afraid he'd hear my breathing change, hear my heart. Finally he told me to come upstairs with him and he showed me some pictures of his family in Puerto Rico, told me stories about them. I didn't sit too close but he put his hand on my leg. I kept looking between the pictures and his jeans, the seams and creases. I knew it was dangerous, but I couldn't stop looking.

"Go on," he said quietly, when he caught me looking. I turned bright red and looked away. Couldn't think of anything to say.

He put his hand on the back of my neck. Left it there for a long time, then started pressing down. I put my head against his jeans and just lay there, getting warmer and warmer.

The whole time I was sucking him I just kept thinking, I can't believe it, I can't believe he's letting me do this. Velvet and hard and salty and sweet and I always thought he was straight. Same way I feel now, y'know?

This is so beautiful I want it to last forever, and at any second I'm afraid that I'll have to stop.

[emerald-truth]

James Bond character playlist! This is really just a general playlist of songs I associate with James, maybe I'll make some more specific ones later . . . The playlist is on spotify, but all the songs and artists are listed in the playlist notes below the cut if you'd like to listen to them other places. I've also written explanations for why I chose each song.

Ausländer (Rammstein) - This song is in German but it’s a good introduction to the kind of person James is on the surface and what he does (travel around the world seducing girls). 

Sharp Dressed Man (ZZ Top) - Continuing the trend of putting jokey ZZ Top songs on my character playlists . . . This is pretty much in the same vein as the previous one; it’s James as he presents himself to the world, stylish and sexy.

Big Space (Espacio Grande) (Suzanne Vega) - This is where we start to get into the more emotional stuff. I associate the whole Days of Open Hand album with Pussy Galore so I think this is James from her perspective. This is also where I got the name for the playlist, from a stanza I think is one of the best descriptions of James: “Beyond the duty and the discipline/I'm sure there's anger in a cold place/All feelings fall into the big space/Swept up like garbage on the weekend.” It speaks well to the way he’s a bit hard to read but under the surface he has a lot emotions he’s trying not to show or really even feel. He says he does his job out of duty, but there’s often something deeper driving him on his missions.

Northern Attitude (Noah Kahan) - Stick Season is a James/Felix album to me, but this is definitely a James song. It’s about growing up in New England but it could work for Scotland too. And we know James’s childhood has had a big impact on his life, and the things he went through could be part of the reason for his closed off nature and unwillingness to get close to people. I also think it’s interesting the song mentions losing a wife as that’s something James and Felix have in common.

Night Flight (Led Zeppelin) - Not all of this song is relevant (it’s about the Vietnam War) but I think some of the sentiments about being drafted as a soldier can apply to James, especially the line “Someone pushed a gun into my hand/Tell me I'm the type of man/To fight the fight without inquiring.” James seems to enjoy his work, but I wonder how much of his violent nature was really there from the start and how much has been encouraged by MI-6 culture and how much he questions that. He’s always in a sort of balancing act with authority there. I also enjoy the first line about “my brother across the water” because clearly that’s Felix.

No One Loves Me and Neither Do I (Them Crooked Vultures)- I’m kind of obsessed with this song but I also think it gets at a central part of James’s character which is how unloved he is despite his many sexual conquests and how he uses sex as an escape from his relatively lonely life.

FANCY (TWICE) - If you read my Bond kpop headcanons you’ll know I think Lazenby’s Bond is a TWICE stan and this is my favorite TWICE song. I associate it so heavily with him and Tracy I had to include it. I think the way its innocence stands out in this playlist is also representative of their relationship. It’s one of the few times James has had a real pure love with someone.

Cherry Waves (Deftones) - This song is perfect for James and Vesper’s relationship, especially with all the references to death by drowning and themes of trust. The narrator, which would be James in this case, would swim down to save their lover from drowning but they’re not sure if the other person would do the same.

Jaws of Life (Wintersleep) - This is a very Skyfall song with the idea of wanting to find comfort in childhood things when the world is falling apart, and thus I associate it with Judi Dench’s M, but I think it’s relevant to any of the few people James can relax and find comfort with.

A Favor House Atlantic (Coheed and Cambria) - Honestly this song is mostly here on vibes, but it could make a good James/Alec song especially with the second verse: “Run quick, they're behind us, didn't think we'd ever make it/This close to safety, in one piece/Now you wanna kill me in the act of what could maybe/Save us from sleep and what we are” and generally being about people who are in between being friends and enemies.

Lonely in Your Nightmare (Duran Duran) - Probably the most James Bond coded song I’ve ever heard. I particularly associate it with License to Kill and Felix but it’s pretty much always applicable. Like all the lyrics. Just read all of them. I know Duran Duran did an actual Bond song but this one fits better imo.

However Much I Booze (The Who) - Of course a reference to James’s escapist alcoholism and how poor a coping mechanism it is. I also adore the line “I’m just a well fucked sailor” especially because of James having been in the navy.

Miracle (Bad Omens) - This song is mostly in here for the line “But nevertheless, I’m fucking depressed, I hide it with sex and drink til it’s fatal” but the idea of looking for something beautiful you’re really willing to die for when you’ve led such a violent life is also interesting. No Time to Die vibes.

One Little Victory (Rush) - I basically had to include a Rush song as they’re one of my special interests so here’s the one I picked. I think this song explains what it probably takes for James to continue in his job for so long and so well, and in the context of the band it was about overcoming grief to do what you love again which has been relevant to James after losing various people like Tracy, Della, or Vesper. Although we don’t always get to see his grief in full, he always picks himself back up again.

Growing Sideways (Noah Kahan) - Another song from Stick Season. This is a song that’s very relatable to me personally and it describes a lot of the reasons I relate to James: burying your feelings to survive.

Nerves Normal. Breath Normal (Wintersleep) - No one makes me feel things like Wintersleep and that’s why they have two songs on the playlist. Also this song is just such an ominous vibe. They have so many songs about having a weird relationship to your body and this is one of them. I can’t explain why it’s about James. It just is. I really can’t express how Wintersleep makes me feel half the time I’m sorry.

[starlitangels]

JAMES 👀👀👀👀👀

uh that is to say good evening i'm told there is 'I Didn't Sign Up For This (Yes You Did)' going on here and i am here to politely request that it be downloaded into my mind 🫣💕

Hello, my friend and good evening to you! (I say at 9AM lol)

I detailed a little bit about I Didn't Sign Up For This (Yes You Did) here when @pinksparkl asked, but I will give you a little more!

I cannot, unfortunately, download it directly into your brain because it's not finished yet lol. It's like a whopping 3 whole paragraphs

So, a lot of this fic has elements of my actual marriage in it. Because James is the only pre-married character now so I am obviously the authority on it as one of the only married members of the fandom (for legal reasons: that is very much a joke)

So, the basic premise is James coming home from a job early and he intends to surprise his spouse, but when he opens the door into the house, the living room floor is covered in a plastic tarp to protect it while James' spouse is chaotically painting. Which prompts James muttering, "I didn't sign up for this" and his spouse's response of, "Yes you did! You married me!"

When I say this has elements of my marriage in it, what I mean is that in this fic, I am James, and my husband's chaos is embodied in the spouse.

My husband is ADHD and I have, 100%, found him in moments of

more than once, and I wanted to reflect some of that in this fic. I like giving James and his spouse a little sweet domesticity because I also really like giving them angst because of James' job

But since they are married, I think it's fun to show that little bit of difference off

The painting idea is definitely a me thing, my husband doesn't paint. But I love the idea of spouses who have been together for a long time and know just about everything about each other still being like, "You're exhausting but I love you more than life itself"

Like, James' Springback video did show that he and his spouse have some contention in their relationship because he's gone all the time (understandable) and I've written about that.

But I also want to write about the good times for them. The joy and the silliness that comes from sharing a living space with a spouse that you absolutely adore

IDK I'm trying to explore all the facets of a relationship we've had one (1) prime universe video about and kinda one (1) Imperium video about. I assume that the listener in both videos is the same person, and I like to assume that circumstances are similar. Childhood friends turned lovers. So these two have done it all together, and been through thick and thin by one another's side and choose to stay beside each other even though their relationship has up and downs, like any relationship would. James' quiet line that's almost easy to miss in his Springback video about "please don't leave" is such a delicious jump-off point for all sorts of things. An exploration of insecurity, angst, and even joy

Which is where this one is coming from. I want to show the fun. My husband and I have a lot of fun together and I think having shared interests that are fun to do together is so important in a relationship

So the little bit I'm going to share with you that I didn't share with Sparkl's ask is that James joins his spouse's painting with a sigh and a big smile and they get to actually enjoy some time getting a little messy together

I haven't decided yet if it turns into a full on paint fight but there's room for that, if I'm feeling chaotic. My writing often stems from my own mood so we'll see what happens!