#Pixie Panic Market

[soursavior]

Notifications

my the game crafter account is set to tell me whenever anyone orders one of my games and it gets so excited about fulfilling that task that it even (and almost exclusively since I can't be bothered to self promote) sends the emails when I've ordered copies of my own games.

anyway, if you want to play a game I made and don't want to pay for it you can check out the swap table at Arisia in Boston MA or (starting sometime in March) the game library at Pixie Panic Market in Eugene OR. Or I guess know me or my dad in meatspace (like cyberspace, but your avatar is made of meat instead of cyber) or be steam friends and own a copy of TableTop Simulator.

Also you could just buy the games I made. People who have played them claim to like them when they're talking to me, the person who's feelings would be hurt if they said anything else.

[sunbeamstress]

i just woke up from a nap where i was having a dream that we'd gotten through all the cultural panic and trans people were boring enough that we were more or less accepted in society.

it was horrible. we had been completely enfolded into the capitalist ecosystem. every other sitcom had one or two badly-written trans characters. health and beauty companies, unable to penetrate the hard-working blue collar market with their MAN SOAP and their GUN SHAMPOO, pivoted and began targetting us with condescending, shittily-made scrubs and soaps and body washes in baby blue, pink, and white. every other 'live laugh love' banner sold at target had a trans flag in the background. middle-aged cis women getting short pixie cuts and casually telling their friends they're "a little eggy." gender reveal parties became trans-inclusive but somehow played out exactly as they do today - on the news, a couple from the boonies of georgia make the national news for blowing the fuck out of their shed to celebrate: "it's an AMAB!"

[itsybitsylemonsqueezy]

Good morning and happy new year Tumblrinas!

Okay, let's take stock of where we are...

I'm playing Baldur's Gate 3, it's pretty nice. Meant to romance Karlach out the gate but tripped and fell into Gale's lap, whoops. What can I say, the man's a soft touch and I'm into it. Gnome paladin was a great choice, I look hysterical with a greatsword. Just swing me like a catapult at that point.

Starting another save in Pokemon Violet on Switch, just for the lulz. Shouldn't take me too long to run through it. Probably got a craving from having played through around this time last year.

Trying maybe for a second masters. It sucks being in a job you're bored at, so thinking of switching industries. I should enroll in classes for Spring and Summer. I forgot how much work a degree is. But my first class went very well.

Trying very hard to get pregnant, well, my wife is anyway. Please, please let us baby. We'd like a baby. And then it will be my turn to become pregnant. Not, like, immediately, but soon. We'd like a few kids.

In the process of redoing my whole closet. I have a lot of old, worn out things, stuff that doesn't fit anymore, and I asked for gift cards for Christmas, so maybe I can put together a whole new wardrobe. New wardrobe, new me.

Did change my haircut, no more two block situation, now more of a traditional pixie cut. Looks kinda cute c: We'll see how that goes. I haven't had symmetrical hair in awhile. I'm so silver these days 8C

Cooking better all the time. Can't wait to see what new recipes I master this year. I attempted steak last year and it's gone pretty well! Wish lamb was more available in this country, I love lamb so much. I'd cook with it all the time if I could. I really want to make moussaka one of these days, it's so tasty and, I think, achievable.

Utterly haunted by the basil ice cream we had on my birthday though. God. Fuck. It sounds odd but it was... rewrote my brain.

Maybe we'll get to move soon! Now that we've paid for all that fucking sperm, we can save up to move into an actual house! How neat! The housing market here is garbage, big surprise, but I've found a few nice, newer houses closer to my current work that are in a pretty decent school district. I may be seduced.

And just think, then I could get a Costco membership 83 The only thing stopping me now is I have literally nowhere to put all the bulk items I'd be buying. But soon... soon, precious. My wife has never been to Costco, she does not know its cornucopia of treasures. Ugh, I can't wait!

Don't know what I'll write next. I've been toying with trying to do some original work, but I've realized that in my long years of fanfic, my character creation muscles have completely atrophied. How do you all just make little guys? Like, you have to believe in them and care about them, and I'm always 'It has red hair and green eyes... I don't even know what it likes yet!' And then I panic and give up. I just need more practice, I'm sure.

And I've started reading Homestuck.

Well, that's probably about enough to be going on with. Thanks for the listen!

[vierandancer]

Meiko had a lot to think about. To feel, as well.

As soon as the doors to her room shut behind her, she was sliding to sit on the floor like a child. It had only been a few days since fleeing to Il Mheg, but it had felt like a lifetime. Everything moved so fast.

It was good that it did, she knew. The sooner they resolved the issues with the First, the sooner everyone returned to the Source.

Her hand pressed over her heart and she shut her eyes, taking a deep, slow breath. It had been hammering away ever since absorbing the light of Titania. She had figured it was because of everything that followed, including being near-drowned, but she still felt as though she were in the middle of a panic attack.

After a few minutes, her heartrate slowed, but the heightened sense of alert remained. Physical effects, she supposed, of taking all of that Light into her aether. She expected there would be some, after all, beyond the lightening of her eyes that had followed the absorption of the first one.

She hoped it wouldn't get worse. She knew, deep down, it likely would. Blessing of Light or no, most people weren't meant to carry so much of whatever this was. There would be consequences. She would bear them.

Or, she'd try to. Her thoughts returned to Feo Ul, and how they had accepted the role of Titania in her place so unflinchingly. Guilt threatened to tear at her, its only hesitation due to the fact that the pixie seemed perfectly happy with their new role. Perhaps she would call out to them, summon the part that could reach her in order to express her gratitude once again --

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. She tensed, but only briefly, before reminding herself that she was safe. Slow but well-paced, she picked herself up off the ground and took another calming breath before cracking open the door.

"Oh, good. I worried you might have already gone to bed, what with the eventful past few days you've had." It was the Crystal Exarch, tone hesitant but relieved, a basket of what looked to be sandwiches held in both hands like a child offering samples in the market.

The door opened the rest of the way. Meiko took in the sight, and once again resisted the urge to dip low enough to get a better peek at his face under the hood.

"Aye, still awake for now." A glance at the basket. "Crystarium got their Exarch makin' wee deliveries now?"

"Hm? Oh," he chuckled, shaking his head and offering up the basket. "No, no. These are for you. I worried you may not have had a chance to eat before retiring for the night."

"All this?" Meiko accepted the basket, but was surprised at the quantity. The Bismarck would have served this many as a meal for four. Looking over it, she had half a mind to ask if he had delivered the same amount to all of the Scions. Looking back at him, though, something told her he did not. She lowered the basket. "Well, thank you. I'll be sure t'eat my fill afore I turn in."

"But I hope you're not doin' this as an apology for preferrin' my brother o'er me."

When she had first arrived in the Crystarium, she had been direct in discerning the intended plan. The Exarch had been as polite as he could be in his honesty, but it was clear how uncomfortable he had been when answering. Making your host acknowledge you as an uninvited guest was sort of rude.

Again, the Exarch was unable to hide his discomfort. He hesitated for only half a moment before shaking his head, "Meiko, I do not have a preference. A'kihiko may have been my original target, but please recall that all of the Scions were brought here by mistake as well. You have been carrying on your role perfectly, and I could not ask for --"

"M'gonna need help with these sandwiches." Meiko sank back into her room, tilting her head as if to invite him in. "Don't quite have my brother's appetite, m'afraid. Come in an' join me."

He had been working himself up into a defensive frenzy. Apologizing again. She felt a pang of familiarity in how Fray had called her out for the same when they first met. How she felt the weight of every mistake she had or had yet to make. It was different for the Exarch, but the same frantic energy remained. He followed her into her room after a small pause.

"Remind me again how you came t'choose the hero that'd be helpin' with your Lightwarden problem?" she prompted, taking a place at the table before he could speak again. She moved to grab two empty plates from the cabinets in the kitchenette.

"...There was a collection of historical texts within the Crystal Tower. I read of the Warrior of Light's story in those that detailed his journey." The Exarch made no move to sit at the table, yet.

"Huh. An' what did those texts mention o'me?" Part of her was genuinely curious, but she already knew the likely answer.

"That you were always by your brother's side," The Exarch answered. "And -- and that you faced down the dragon Shinryu together atop Ala Mihgo's castle."

"Huh." All right, she could give the historians that. It would be impossible to deny her presence there, seeing as she and Hiko had taken on the bastard by themselves. She sat back down at the table. "An' what else? What of my part in Doma? Or the Dragonsong War?"

"Was I anyone outside o'my brother's sister?"

"Of course you were." Now he approached the table. "You were. There were plenty of parts about you, Meiko. They simply -- the details were lost over time. Any historical figure is susceptible to fading within its pages --"

"So you meant to summon the hero o'these stories, one with th'long list o'accomplishments...an' instead, you get his near-nameless sidekick o'a sister." Finally settled, Meiko picked up one of the sandwiches, peeling back a layer of its paper wrapping before taking a considerable bite. It was good! All the ingredients tasted fresh. Not too much whatever-condiments. Tasted like mustard. Still chewing, she tilted her head and looked over at him directly. "An' youre forced --" She paused to swallow her bite. "-- T'entrust th'fate o'your world t'her. If I were you, I'd be right pissed. Or nervous, at th'very least."

"Meiko, you're not--"

"M'not accusin' you o'doin' wrong, Exarch. M'just acknowledgin' that you were put in a tight spot. An' that it's okay to have been disappointed. Frustrated, even. Aye, I'd like t'say I've done a lovely job so far. Can't imagine how my brother would do it much different. But s'not the point m'makin', although...probably not bein' very clear."

Her thoughts were jumbled. She knew what she wanted to say, but navigating her thoughts to her mouth had always been a struggle. Still, she was trying. This entire ordeal had been nothing but her trying.

"The reason m'not in the history books is 'cause I didn' want t'be." She paused to take another, somewhat smaller bite. Chewed twice before swallowing this time. "When I received my own Blessin' from Hydaelyn, I was horrified. Hiko handles the fame with stride, but if anyone e'er addressed me as Warrior O' Light, I'd likely be sick. It was too much responsibility. Much easier to fade into th'background. Less expectations that I figured I'd never live up to on my own. Everythin' I did was with Hiko 'cause I couldn't stand the thought of standin' alone. Never believed I was smart or strong enough to handle that sort o' burden."

Slowly, the Exarch came over to sit next to her at the table. He didn't speak, allowing her to continue uninterrupted. She sort of wished he had, but obliged anyway.

"S'the same with the Scions, too. Never felt like my reasons for joinin' were just or selfless enough." She glanced at him, admitting, "I only did to ensure my brother's safety. Didn't care for Eorzea's politics or the beastmen or their eikons. Didn't know shite 'bout Garlemald's invasion, either. An' every time one o'them spoke of aether or other lofty shite I didn' understand, I felt more and more unworthy. More stupid than I was, surrounded by scholars when I struggled t'read more than two lines at a time. I kept a distance from th'types I felt I'd only disappoint in revealin' who I was, even after all we'd been through together. Even knowin' they considered me a friend, I continued to reject myself on their behalf, as I did with everythin' else."

"An' when you Called them all to the First, you ripped away everyone I hid behind. My brother most o'all, but the twins, too." She leaned on the table with her elbows, head tipping back in recollection. "The moment Hiko fell, it was just before an Ascian took th'field in Zenos' body. Everyone had been rallied an'ready to fight 'longside the Warrior O'Light. I was already beside myself when I looked 'round at the soldiers' faces and watched their courage crumble into despair. Their savior was gone. Only I was left, and most didn't know me from a bloody hole in th'wall."

She looked at the Exarch again, smile sheepish.

"Maybe m'just projectin' that onto you, an' if so, m'sorry. M'tryin' t'say that I don't blame you if you felt that way, too. 'Cause I made my bed w'my lack o'reputation, and tellin' Hiko to take all th'credit. Everythin' I felt that day -- all that regret an' fear an' doubt, 'twas all my own makin'. But since then, I've made th'choice to unmake that bed. To be whatever th'world needs me t'be. Even if I fuck up sometimes."

She leaned sideways, nudging the Crystal Exarch with her shoulder.

"Anyway. Have a sandwich or I'll assume they're laced wi'somethin'."

The Exarch let out a low chuckle of his own. Slowly, he acquiesced, reaching to partake in the meal himself. Meiko did, admittedly, attempt to tilt her head to get a better peek under the hood.

I know it's you, G'raha. She didn't have proof outside of a feeling, but something in her was screaming it every time she saw him. Especially now, in private. She had hoped that this heart-to-heart might prompt him to be more honest with her, too. But if he hadn't revealed himself to A'kihiko after nearly a year's time, she had to assume she was either incorrect in her assumption or he had his reasons for maintaining his anonyminity. Still -- bloody frustrating.

"Thank you for sharing that with me," he said finally. "... I will admit, I was upset when A'kihiko arrived incomplete. But I was more frustrated at myself than anything. Ashamed of my failure, afraid that I had condemned the First to its fate without providing it a fighting chance -- horrified that I had torn the souls out of brave heroes whose lives should have continued on in the Source. When he told me that you, too, possessed the Blessing of Light -- I promise you, Meiko, I felt nothing but relief. Even moreso when your brother went on to reassure me of your strength and bravery, and the twins wholeheartedly agreed. They have done nothing but speak highly of you, and although I have not been in frequent contact with the others, I do not doubt they would say the same."

Oh.

Meiko's present chewing began to slow. A tickle rose in the back of her throat, up with the rise of emotion threatening to make her choke-sob over a mouthful of bread. She coughed a little and finished the bite off quickly, sniffling a bit.

"That's...that's good then," she managed out lamely, turning to stare out the window. "...To know I've rave reviews."

For a moment, there was a presence over her shoulder -- like a hand hesitantly hovering there, unable to decide whether or not to lower. When she turned back to him, the Crystal Exarch had both hands holding a sandwich as he took a small bite.

"If you still hold some aversion to the title of Warrior of Light," he went on after swallowing. "I hope you can find a way to eventually embrace the role of Warrior of Darkness instead, Meiko. You have earned it."

Meiko laughed. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Ardbert lingering by the door.

"Nah. Warrior o' Darkness still sounds kinda silly t'me."

[tea-and-finalfantasy]

i'm doing fine / this was a one off thing but it's funny? sort of?

had a "man i wish i had my Bad Mental Health crazies from college back rn" like not the anxiety not the depression not the untreated adhd--the "oh fuck my dad is dying + i can't get myself to work on anything + i am getting no academic support = i literally don't feel anything and am only doing fun things and i can't keep still and am going for walks at 2am

like that was not a good period of time for the most part/the actual good stuff was like. yeah skipping a class but going to the park to read instead, not having a panic attack at star market at 2am bc i'm fabricating that the man behind me is going to shoot me in the head

but even on adderall, i like to have caffeine or something bc it's not mania levels of bad (like it's not too much dopamine) but i crave the kind of productivity that feels unstable. or jitteriness that feels like productivity bc i'm thinking and moving and feel alive even if i'm not doing anything

so like everything's fine, the adderall's good, i've had some anxiety over other things and sleeping weirder? on adderall+caffeine hasn't helped but i think sometimes i feel this way bc i'm so used to doing nothing that feeling too hyper feels fantastic / feeling baseline might feel like i'm not active enough just bc i know i can get wilder lol

BUT AGAIN I'M FINE i know if i have too much caffeine i'll panic so i'm just romanticizing all this but still. listened to a song from that period of my life and manic pixie dream girl'ed myself

[katielovably]

I think I know what type of partner I want to find. I know it's impossible. But it's good to think about

I am watching Celenaspookyboo and she's has the personality who would be amazing personality and spirit. So I would like to find someone whose adventurious, down to earth, humble, funny (like dad jokes and jokes that's humble not jokes that hurt or insult anyone), understanding because I need someone who is patience and slow you know. So many people want to jump into things like where people go to babe or sweetheart no let me decide thing, you know. I want someone who can be my friend, help me when I panic or nervous because when someone asks a question I need someone who helps explain. I need someone who wants to snuggle or lay together. Walk together threw the bush or just wherever (pretty sure I talked about that one before), someone who allows me to have emotions instead of burying them. Someone I can be myself around. Who wouldn't put me down, who would make me cowar or nervous to be around.

I know a person like this is impossible to find (when I actually go searching because I spend a lot of time at home) but it's hard for me to know where to find people because people just showed up in my life to be my friends (who turned out to be not good people) but I changed. I want to change but don't know how. I know getting a partner would help with that but it's a start. If not a partner then a career change and I'm scooping up Bean and moving because some is changing. I change feel it coming. My brain is trying to figure out how life will work for me and working at a zoo is one of them because I'm good at (not great because I'm anxious of something going wrong) but I can do it or a museum because I like history (also both places have gift shops it would be cool) even a curcus or something like that.

I thought in high school that I would stay in the area. After graduating and trying to figure out what I'm doing with my life which I would enjoy the working with people but people in the area are ignorant, selfish, fake and just not good people. I'm seeing this in family as well and I just want to move but the location isn't clear because I would tell people I want to move. Right away, where? Where would you go? Bitch I don't know. I just want to go I'm going crazy but don't know where to go if that makes sense. I spent five years in a place my dad owns and pays for (there a mouse problem and sewer issues every year). My dad offered to move it to my aunts and uncle ( who lives closer to town) but my brother (who I live with) is like they'll snoop or not give us privacy. I know this is the place this trailer belongs. The house doesn't move we do sorta thing. Getting Bean was the first step because something was telling me get a pet. I was looking on a local shelter website, I was looking up info on every dog breed I hear about in YouTube videos (those like shorts talking about dogs or even Brutus and Pixie had this dog in it that it smaller than a German shepherd but looked like it) like it was driving me crazy then my brain was like hey remember that site nana found her cat (it's like Facebook Market place). I went there was looking threw these articles (it was late at that point I my mind just left and I think I was jumping between two because info blurred and mixed. When my brain returned I saw a phone number and so that was the deciding factor on rather or not I was getting the kitten that became Bean or not. So I asked "hey, do you still have the cat?" Like expecting like a "no, I already got rid of it. Sorry." because it's a free cat so I figured you know people would eat that shit up. But nope she was still there. I'm like oh my god I'm actually doing this. But I was like planning on going solo but I told my brother who after making me swear I will be taking care of it (du, it's my cat of course I will) he decided to help me (because he made a deal on a computer so only fair (if driving three or so hours were called fair) and we got lost and confused by the directions and Bean's old owner was like trying to help us (it's funny to think back on) but now I got Bean and it's the best thing (expensive little free cat due to vet bills and shit like that) but she's happy and makes me happy.

But yeah, I'm just trying to figure out life because life sure wasn't nice to me in the past but that's how it goes. 🤷. I would like a partner because I'm lonely and want to kiss someone who is a cat and would be happy living with me to help pay rent with me (because Jesus knows it's hard to survive alone... as Bean has gotten a job yet lol) I hope to ditch this place in a year or so because honestly I have nothing here, I thought in 2019 earlier 2020 there was but I'm starting to see there's nothing it's an old person/ family town that's it. That's the people they cater to her and don't care about people my age listening to them because we're young and dumb it's not like we would know how to change things to better things or anything.

Sorry I'll stop now

I don't know why I always do this. I guess it's just easier to get your thoughts out.

[remythologise]

PLEASE share your ted/trent agenda with the world i'm intrigued by how relatively easy that would be to do in canon

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR TED LASSO UP TO CURRENT EPISODE

Alright well I’ve taken to answering recent asks as top ten lists so here’s another: Top Ten Reasons Why Ted/Trent Should Be Canon:

1. This reddit comment sums it up:

It’s simply a compelling rom com(munism) plot! What’s more compelling than a journalist falling in love with the person he’s meant to report on! The ethical dilemmas! The slow realisation! Half of this arc was basically already covered in:

2. The episode 1.03 Trent Crimm The Independent. Which is perhaps the best episode of the show and I simply think perhaps we could use more of that energy. Too much Trent on screen never a bad thing unlike Beard sorry to that man and that episode

3. In the episode 2.07 Headspace Trent Crimm exits the bar with what looks to be a male date with a moustache, indicating he is both a) into men and b) moustachesexual. Actually he DOESN’T exit the bar he gets distracted by Ted and tells his date to wait outside while he saunters over to get some goss. But you get the picture.

4. Trent Crimm has a daughter but no wedding ring and APPEARED to be on a date which means it is simply not out of the realms of possibility that he is a divorced dad. Sorry to be wildly ungeneric but I simply think DivorcedDad4DivorcedDad is a great and fresh premise for a tv romance actually.

5. Ted Lasso SHOULD be at least bisexual. - Firstly because nobody on the show is officially LGBT+ and they need a Big Swing to offset how bad their representation is. (no, Disney’s 56th Gay Character adjacent grindr references by Colin isn’t enough for me and also by the way their racial politics are absolutely fucking awful. But this isn’t an ask about that.) Also because the more people get pissed off with bisexual/gay main characters that weren’t marketable or pre-warned the better. Let’s BREAK that pink and satiny ceiling— - Secondly because in the meta plot of Ted Lasso being about Jason Sudeikis recovering from his breakup with Olivia Wilde it would be funny if the answer to his existential crisis was Sucking A Man’s Dick - Thirdly about once an episode he drops some Woke JokeTM thing about another male character being handsome, AND he has a passionate love for musical theatre. Yeah I know he’s just meant to be sooooo perfect positive masculinity etc. but I personally reject Apple TV+’s cookie cutter and did-no-work Manic Pixie Dream Dad and offer this as a fun alternative.

6. My personal opinion on Ted Lasso season 2 is that daddy issues are overdone, and I don’t care about Apple TV+ going over Therapy 101. (Don’t get me wrong, I really love interior character focused therapy stuff if it’s well written! But in S2, it is not.) You know whose panic attacks I DO care about? Eddie Diaz’s comphet panic attacks on 911. Ted Lasso you could learn a thing or two from that! I’m just saying main character gay crises are fun and fresh and sexy!

7. Every single look Trent Crimm gives Ted Lasso post-1.03 indicates to me he’s DEEPLY smitten despite his smug upper-class self.

8. In the most recent episode 2.11, Trent Crimm sacrifices his journalistic integrity to provide Ted with details. It’s actually embarrassing and all of twitter is on his back over ethical integrity because you NEVER give away a source etc. etc… but HE’S IN LOVE, YOUR HONOUR. In the words of his own (official) twitter:

9. Ted makes Trent’s daughter cupcakes which implies a quite friendly relationship. Ted’s question in the show of ‘can I be a good father’ and ‘do I have a family I belong to’ can and should be partially answered by taking up parental care duties for his male friend’s child much like Buck 911 and Dean Supernatural—

10. There is no love interest for Ted Lasso that is remotely as compelling. Actually Trent happens to be the least problematic option on the table (other than Sassy, I guess!). (don’t @ me over this yes we KNOW a m/f relationship is going to be the endgame of Apple TV+’s flagship show if you ship ted/sharon or ted/rebecca you’re not under any threat!)

[heaven-in-a-wild-flower]

Jurdan Headcanon (Jude Duarte and Cardan Greenbriar)

I’ve also published this on ao3 if you’d rather read it there, here’s the link. I’m making this a full series (Cardan in the Mortal World).

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Previous Chapter (Chapter 2.5)

Cardan in the Mortal World (Chapter 3)

Flowery Flour, Beeping Time Bombs and Chocolate Lips

Cardan decides to surprise Jude with a home-cooked meal (he read in a magazine that that is 2nd in the Top Ten Most Romantic Date Ideas! He wanted to choose the 1st but for the life of him couldn’t figure out what Net-flix and Chill meant). Jude has gone out with Vivi and so he has a few hours to prepare the food. He doesn’t think it’s going to be that difficult, there are instructions and tiny people showing the process on the Book of Mac (he imagines Jude exasperpatedly shaking her head and correcting him, “It’s called a MacBook, Cardan!)

He opens up the list of ingredients and copies it down onto a sheet of paper. Then he sets off for the nearest market, Walmart (Cardan nobody calls Walmart a market!). The door opens without his pushing it open. Hmm, maybe they have pixies to open it here.

The air is cool inside, conditioned by another Mortal device. He roams the aisles, searching for all the ingredients on his list. He’s making Chocolate Cake with Buttercream Frosting, he doesn’t understand most of those words but it is a cake so he thinks it’ll be alright. He finds most of the ingredients quite easily (although he’s still a bit confused what flour is and if it is indeed grounded up flowers). He’s only has milk left from the list.

He knows that they usually use the milk from cows in the Mortal World. He’s wondering where they keep the cows in this place. He stops a man with the word, Walmart tattooed on his shirt (he must be the head of this market).

“How can I help?” the man asks, turning to him.

“Oh yes, I will require your assistance in determining where the cows are kept.”

The man looks befuddled, “Sorry sir. We…don’t sell cows here.”

“No, I do not intend to purchase the cows, I desire only the milk,” Cardan clarifies.

“Oh! You want milk? Okay then, follow me.” The man sets off and Cardan follows. He then leads him to a glass case of packaged bottles. “Here you are.”

Cardan looks closely at the bottles and sees some labeled ‘milk’. “Will this suffice for Chocolate Cake with Buttercream Frosting?” he asks. He wants to make sure he’s using authentic ingredients (Jude would kill him is he mistakenly poisoned her).

“Yeah sure, dude,” the man replies.

***

Cardan is following along with the little lady on the U-Tube. It’s going perfectly. He’s even put on the right attire, a pink apron that says ‘Kiss The Cook’. He likes this idea, to give clear instructions for what to do even on the clothing. Maybe he should have some such thing sewed onto his kingly robes too (he thinks of Jude kissing him every time she reads it and grins happily. Oh yes, it is certainly a wonderful idea.)

When the lady, her name is Rosanna Pansino (he thinks this is quite a distinguished name and can’t understand why she would shorten it to ‘Ro’), says to whip the cream, he pauses. She didn’t ask him to purchase a whip. He checks the shelves, (maybe this is a normal kitchen tool?) and still doesn’t find one. He watches the video and realizes that she doesn’t use a whip at all, just some metallic contraption that he has in the kitchen too.

It takes him a few tries to crack the egg correctly (after this ordeal, his respect for his cooks has gone up drastically). Eventually the batter has been successfully transferred to a pan and placed inside the heating box (Oven). He sets the time on the dials and sits back to wait for it to be done.

In the mean time, he wonders at the bliss he sees on Mortals’ faces as they talk about chocolate. He decides to try some cocoa powder to see for himself if it is as good as they say. He picks up a spoonful of the powder and puts the whole thing in his mouth. His face shrivels up and he starts coughing madly. He drinks some wine to get the taste out of his mouth and thinks that Mortals have very strong taste buds to be able to not only endure that but to also enjoy it.

When the timer on the heating box has finally come down to 10 seconds he watches it carefully, unsure what is about to happen. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 and then…beep, beep, beep! He startles and tries to figure out what to do. Ro did not show this part at all. He tries to remember what he’s seen in those moo-vies he and Jude sometimes watch. Beeping means…time bomb! The heating box has overheated or some such and is about to explode.

He runs out of the house and crashes into someone. No, not someone, Jude.

“Cardan, what are you- what’s happened?” she asks, holding his flour covered arms and staring into his panicky eyes with confusion.

“The heating box is about to explode!” he blurts out.

“The heating box? Oh, the oven. What did you do to it?” she asks, raising one brow.

“I tried to make a Chocolate Cake with Buttercream Frosting and I followed Ro’s instructions perfectly. But at the end of the timer it started beeping like a time bomb!”

“Oh my god, oh my god,” Jude says and bursts out laughing. He loves this sound and his eyes go dreamy for a moment, all his panic forgotten and his body relaxes.

“What is it? How are you not worried?” he asks, when he’s finally regained his wits. She pulls him back into the house and opens the heating box and takes the pan out after putting on gloves (Cardan understands the importance of looking good but is this really the time to be accessorizing? But since he knows nothing about this, he stays wisely silent).

“That’s just the sound it makes when it’s done baking,” she informs him, smiling fondly.

“Oh. Well, that is bizarre and unnecessarily alarming. A tinkling of bells would have worked just fine,” he says petulantly, crossing his arms and frowning (Jude thinks this is simply adorable, even if she’ll never tell him that).

***

They continue the decorating together. He likes this a lot better. He’s gotten many many kisses. The apron is definitely working. They finally eat the chocolate cake. It takes a lot of persuading on Jude’s part (maybe even some bribing). She doesn’t understand why he’s glaring suspiciously at it. When she finally feeds him a piece, his face relaxes.

“Oh. Oh.” He says reverently. “I understand now.”

Jude is expectedly puzzled but forgets all about it when he kisses her. Mmm, Cardan hasn’t wiped his mouth properly and he tastes like chocolate but she certainly isn’t complaining.

Tagging, @jurdanhell @nee-naw-nee-naw-beepbeep

Let me know if anyone wants to be added to the tagging list (or removed).

Next Chapter

[isaacsapphire]

re: 'legibility": in reality by defining oneself as 'genderqueer' or 'nb', the mark is taking on an artificially created corporate identity that is much more decipherable by capital/power structures. just as becoming a 'goth' means all of your clothes come from hot topic, being "nonbinary" constrains your interactions and style options far more than being a "woman" does. also normal folks following the 'irritating weirdo' script of asking polite questions and nodding proves they're scared, lol

Yeeeah, so "Hot Topic Goth" was an insult, and you clearly don't know anything about goth.

I'm not an expert, but the non binary aesthetic seems indistinguishable from "literally anything" or the usual butch-ish lesbian look or the usual unnaturally colored hair manic (panic) pixie look if we're going more specific. Which... Ah, while there are eg. binder companies making money off of Trans people, the big bucks seem more in the medical industrial complex (which includes therapists BTW).

The post (I'll link it here after posting) this is referring to is about the entire LGBTQ spectrum, and about how questions like, "So which one of you is the girl?" that are generally seen as incredibly rude and homophobic are not necessarily coming from a place of hostility, but a place of confusion. You've emphasized the non binary part in a way that suggests that you don't understand what you are talking about.

Like, I have to emphasize, a cishet who is asking questions like that is naive and acting in a way that would get them attacked by a lot of activist types. That's someone who is acting based on a lack of familiarity with LGBTQ topics, not a grizzled and wary veteran of the culture wars.

My own experience in my youth of trying to explain that I was bisexual to naive but not hostile Midwesterners was that they were genuinely baffled and confused; they had, with effort, added "straight or gay" to their collection of binaries, but it broke their brains when they encountered bisexuality.

Legibility to corporate interests, in the form of being an advertising market, was actually an important part of the gay rights movement. "We have money and will spend it on companies that recognize us and not on companies that discriminate against gays in hiring" was a pretty basic argument for gay recognition and respect from corporations, and from there the culture at large. It hasn't been uncontroversial with the gay community, but I think you have a lot to learn about the gay rights movement and that stuff like Absolut Vodka and Subaru advertising were important moments to it.

At this point, a lot of companies, etc don't even have a gender option besides "male/man" and "female/woman" so I think you are overestimating the inroads made by nonbinary.

[magnus-the-maqnificent]

Lost Book of the White Countdown Event - Parenthood

Lost and Found

(Read on Ao3)

"Oh!" said the warlock when she caught sight of Magnus. "Is that your baby?"

The night sky stretched over the Shadow Market of New York like a large canvas, dotted with a sparse covering of stars like specks of white paint. Magnus was supposed to spend this night in the comfort of his home, looking after his son while his boyfriend hunted down demons in the darker corners of the city. Magnus had been making futile attempts to lull Max to sleep, but then he'd received a call from a warlock acquaintance of his, saying that she needed his assistance immediately and that a few mundanes had been turned into toads.

So Magnus had brought out his best strap-on baby carrier and put Max in it, and walked over to the Shadow Market while Max pointed to random objects like streetlights and cars and gurgled the whole time. Magnus had simply nodded along to his meaningless blabber, occasionally dropping a comment like 'that's right, blueberry' and 'you're so smart, blueberry'.

Now, he nodded at the warlock and said, "Yes, Misa, this is my child. Say hello, Max."

He took Max's hand and waved it at her, though he seemed disinterested in conversing with the warlock. He was intently staring at the pair of antennae that stuck out from the top of Misa's head. 

"Hello Max," Misa said, giving him a cheerful smile. Her antennae waved about, probing the air, and Max giggled at the sight of them. Misa looked at Magnus. "I'm sorry for bringing you out here at this time."

"It’s alright. How about you show me the problem?" Magnus asked. He wanted to finish this as quickly as possible.

"Of course, come in."

To summarize the problem, a bunch of teenage mundanes somehow found the Shadow Market, and requested Misa to make a potion that would enhance their beauty. Clearly they hadn't known much about magic or its use, and just wanted to attract more attention to themselves at school, and thought that magic was their best solution.

"But something went wrong with the potion. One of the boys was poking around the tent and knocked an entire bottle of newt's eyes into the potion. Before I could mitigate the damage, however, the potion went awry and vaporized, and they all turned into toads. Luckily I came out fine, and called you as soon as possible," Misa explained.

Magnus extracted some more details from her, such as the nature of the potion she had been preparing and the precise amount of newt's eyes spilled into it. While they talked, Max squirmed around in the baby carrier, occasionally mumbling something unintelligible. Around them, on the ground, the toads were merrily hopping around.

"I don't think we can do anything," Magnus said after a while of conversing. "You'll just have to wait for them to turn back. That will hopefully teach them not to meddle with magic."

Misa sighed. "Very well, then. I'll-"

She broke off with a gasp. The baby carrier felt much lighter all of a sudden, and Magnus jumped when something swooped past his face.

"Did he just turn into a bat?" Misa asked, wondering.

"He does that sometimes," Magnus said nonchalantly, though there was a twinge of panic in his heart. "It's nothing to worry about."

They watched as Max, now a bat, flew around the roof of the tent for a few moments. Then, swift as a bird, he changed course and flew right through the open flap of the tent.

"Max, no!" Magnus yelled, running out of the tent. But Max was much faster. Magnus looked in every direction, but he couldn't see Max anywhere.

Magnus's breathing became labored and his heart picked up speed as he realised with a sinking feeling that he lost Max in a bustling, large, crowded market. How was he supposed to find him?

Luckily, Misa agreed to help him search and they split up, agreeing on a rendezvous spot and to call the other if they found Max. Magnus hustled through the crowds, asking around if anyone had seen a blue warlock baby or a lone bat flying around.

Max!

Panic was starting to set in, making Magnus's hands shake as he held up his phone, showing Max's photo to passersby and asking if they had seen him anywhere. No one knew where he was.

Max, where are you?!

"I think I saw a bat near Willow the werewolf's stall earlier," said one at last. Magnus thanked him profusely before running off to the stall, praying that his son was safe.

Max, come back to bapa, please!

The demon could hardly believe his eyes.

It was a child, a warlock child, sitting on the grimy floor of an alleyway and playing with a few stray pixies. He was giggling as the pixies swarmed around him, playfully tugging at his hair while blue magic spilled from his hands like water. He was so young, and so full of life.

A smile spread across the demon's mouth as it shuffled on the wall, a sharp razor-like tongue flicking out and lashing at the air. It could already feel the taste of the boy in its mouth.

The boy looked up and caught sight of it, his giggles fading as he met the demon's eyes. He looked at it with a sort of wonder, as if he had never seen a demon before. The pixies gasped and flitted away as fast as they could. At least they knew to be scared.

The demon waited a few moments, staring at the boy. His hands sparked with magic, but clearly he was too young to know how to properly use it.

Good.

Bending back its hind legs, it poised, and then lunged at the boy.

"Max!" Magnus yelled, looking around for a trace of his baby. He was close to the stall where Max had been sighted, but the owner hadn't seen him, and neither had any of the neighboring stall owners.

He was beginning to get some looks, but Magnus could care less.

"Max!" Magnus yelled again, his throat feeling hoarse and tight and his heart beating frantically in his chest. Max had to be somewhere close by. He couldn't lose his baby just like that. He had to find him.

Magnus was about to yell once more when he heard a loud scream emanating from somewhere behind two stalls. The voice was unmistakable. 

"Max!" Magnus pushed through the tiny gap between the smalls, which opened out into a wider alley between two brick buildings. He froze when he found Max at last.

There was something clutching onto him, something lumpy and black. The figure rose, and Magnus had just begun muttering a spell to fire at it when it turned to look at him.

"Magnus," said Alec, holding a crying Max in his arms, in the light of his own magic Magnus could see a fresh stain of ichor on Alec’s gear. "What happened?! I was patrolling nearby, and some pixies dragged me here just in time. If I had been a moment late-"

Alec didn't need to finish his statement. If I had been a moment late, the demon would've gotten him. And it would all be my fault.

Magnus shook off his half-muttered spell, and stared at Alec for a long time. The only sound was of Max crying.

In retrospect, the image of Alec, fresh from a demon hunt and holding a baby in his arms was very sexy, but in that moment all Magnus could feel was immense relief. He slumped back against the alley wall, but Alec was there first, supporting him with one hand behind his back.

Then the shame hit him. He had almost gotten his son killed. If only he had been more careful-

"Magnus," Alec said in a low voice. By now, Max's cries had been reduced to sniffles, and he was wiping his tears against Alec’s gear. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Magnus said, his voice shaking a little. He reached up a hand to brush his hair out of his hand, and was surprised when his wobbly fingers met a layer of sweat on his forehead. He had been thoroughly shook by the whole experience, and hadn't even realized it. "I'm fine."

Alec was silent a moment, then said, "Come on, let's go home."

Alec was silent the whole time Magnus recounted the events of that night, sitting beside him on the couch with Max held in his arms.

"I'm a terrible father," Magnus muttered after he was done, hanging his head. "I couldn't even handle him for a night."

"Don't say that," Alec said softly. "You did nothing wrong - Max ran away on his own. What matters is that we found him in time."

"But if we hadn't found him-" Magnus couldn't even think of the possibility.

"But we did," Alec reiterated. "We did, and he's safe now, and that's all that matters. And you're an amazing father, Magnus. Don't ever say that you aren't. We're still learning, and we make mistakes, but that doesn't mean we're being terrible parents."

"How can you be so sure?" Magnus asked, though a part of him had calmed down at Alec's words.

Alec smiled. "I know you, Magnus. I know you're never terrible at anything - well, except maybe for the charing."

"I told you never to bring that up!" Magnus protested, but Alec ignored him.

"Also, Max loves you. Don't you, Max?"

Max looked up at Alec. He was playing with a slinky, though it now resembled a jingly mass of wire, and stared incomprehensibly at Alec. Magnus smiled and took Max from him, holding him up at eye level.

"Don't you ever run away like that again, okay?" Magnus warned in a light tone. Max only blinked at him in reply.

"You silly baby." Magnus said, and kissed Max on the cheek. Max stared at him with wide eyes after he pulled away, and then leaned in, brushing his mouth against Magnus’s cheek in an imitation of a kiss.

"Did he just-" Alec broke off, and he and Magnus stared at Max in surprise, though he was oblivious to their attention.

Alec's eyes softened, and he pressed an experimental kiss against Max's cheek. Like with Magnus, Max leaned towards Alec and bumped his mouth against Alec's cheek.

"Oh, my baby," Alec said, taking Max in his arms and kissing him all over his face. "My sweet baby."

Max giggled at the onslaught of affection, and Magnus's heart cracked open in that moment, spilling happiness and love into his veins. He moved in, wrapping his arms around both of them and kissed them on their heads.

"I love you," he said, holding them close, his love and his son. "I love you both so, so much."

"I love you too," Alec whispered, turning his head up and placing a kiss against Magnus’s jaw. Magnus smiled, and held on to this moment, promising to himself to be the best possible father to his blueberry. 

[dast218]

Days that turned into months and eventually years

Next 

The last few years for the Wayne family had been rough, to say the least. At one moment they were immersed in a terribly even match against the Rogues and in the next Marinette was missing from the face of the Earth. 

“I have 50 seconds left. I need to go, cover for me” the heroine directed towards her husband. Wow, yep husband. She got married at nineteen, gave birth to her currently one year old son at twenty and was surrounded by a loving family. Sure they annoyed the shit out of her but the Waynes were always there when she needed them the most. Marinette still couldn’t believe how much her life has changed. For months she was being bullied by her classmates and was mentally exhausted from keeping a leveled head with all the accusations thrown towards her from her so-called friends. On top of that, her parents started believing Lila’s lies because of her constant absences while Hawkmoth was getting stronger with each akuma. To say the bare minimum if it wasn’t for Tikki’s and surprisingly Adrien’s support, she doesn't know if she would be standing here, alive right now. 

Marinette needed a change of environment, so at fifteen she decided to take on Jagged’s offer to join him on tour, one of the best choices she ever made. She met Robin- actually Damian, totally by accident and might have or not mistaken him as a mugger, flipping him over with ease. Oops, well on the bright side her combat skills made the red traffic light vigilante fall even more deeply in love, with how he puts it “a blue eyed angel.” Unknown to her, the Bats had a night full of laughter afterwards, teasing their little grumpy brother. 

The spotted, mostly black covered heroine was pulled away from her thoughts as she felt a gentle kiss on her forehead. Looking back up at the green eyed vigilante, she smiled. 

“I got you. Stay safe”

“You know it”, kissing him gently on his lips before pulling away to find a place to recharge.  

“Aww. Lil D, get a room already!” 

Robin glared at his brother in return and simply stated with a smog smile, “We already have one.” 

An explosion was heard in the distance and before the bat duo ran towards it Dick chuckled, “Some things never change.”

 Damian vividly remembers their search for Marinette after the Rogues were defeated. The fight lasted for about 30 more minutes with his wife never returning back to the battlefield.

“Alfred, did Marinette return back home” 

“No she didn’t. I can’t track her either, she isn’t transformed.” 

A worried glance was shared between the Bats as Damien rushed to the roofs. 

“Damian!” He turned around and his face said it all. Only once had Jason seen his brother this worried and it was during the birth of Thomas, when he went to check on him in the bathroom. Damian usually suppressed his emotions and before Marinette came along they never even saw him smile. Him openly showing distress just reinforced their already set plan.

“We are coming along.” 

“Yea and don’t you think you are in this alone. Newsflash this is Pixie-pop we are talking about!” 

“We are going to find her,” Nightwing said as he approached Robin placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Let's split up to cover more ground.” 

They ended up searching throughout Gotham with no lead until Tikki came flying straight into Robin and Nightwing as they were rooftop jumping. She recalled what she witnessed and lead  them back to where Marinette was chained against her will, but it was too late. 

“Robin over here!” 

“Tikki! Where is Marinette !?” 

“She landed in an ally to de-transform and while I was eating we got ambushed from all sides.” Her breathing started becoming more forced and she was now rapidly spitting out random sentence fragments. 

“Tikki look into my eyes and count to 10.” Damian knew they had no time to waste but after helping Marinette through many previous panic attacks, especially early on in their relationship he understood the importance of calming down the little goddess before moving on. Tikki followed the commands and slowly started evening her breathing. 

“Marinette defended herself well but there were so many and you could just feel the tiredness radiating off of her. It was a matter of time when the masked man saw an opportunity, hit her on the back and pinned her down.” Fresh tears started to leak but the spotted goddess kept speaking, “I was hiding in her jacket and must have lost consciousness because the next thing I remember is waking up to see my holder chained and beaten up. Blood… she was covered with blood. With a shaky breath she told me that her capturers are after the miraculous, that they still hadn’t figured out that it's the earrings and said that she wasn’t about to let them have it. She forced me to take them somewhere safe. I … I didn’t want to leave her but I heard someone entering in and made the mistake of looking into Marinette’s eyes. I fled with the earrings just as Mari’s screams filled the building.” 

The warehouse was abandoned. Broken glass was spread across the floor, chairs were flipped and strips of metal were everywhere. It was the aftermath of a fight. The vigilantes had arrived too late. All that was left behind was rope and fresh stains of blood.     

“They couldn’t have gone far!”

After days which turned into weeks and eventually months of intense searching, Marinette was proclaimed dead. Damian accepted the reality last, refusing to stop looking and went several nights without sleep. 

“Damian” Burce said as he entered into their library where his son was staring intensely at the map. The map of Gotham and neighboring cities was marketed up, all the possible locations of his daughter in law were triple checked and yet not even a single trace was found.

Without looking up Damian hummed waiting for Bruce to continue.  

“I know it's difficult to acknowledge the … the events that occurred but Damian you can’t just keep isolating yourself from the world around you.” 

“I … I can’t. You can’t just expect me to give up on her… I can’t just give up on her.” 

“Damian look at me” He stubbornly didn’t move and continued staring at the map. 

With a sigh the detective carried on, “Damian, son hear me out”

The addressed man slowly turned his head around, after all it wasn’t a daily occurrence that his birth father addressed him that way. Growing up Damian never really had a strong relationship with his father, sure they had they moments but it was usually just ‘listen, fight and defend.”

“Marinette was special to all of us [Damian didn’t miss the “was” but thought against interrupting him] heck if it wasn’t for her our family wouldn’t be standing the way we are now. She brought us together, showed us what it really means to be a family even though hers abandoned her.  She made me realize that my fathering methods towards you weren’t the best.” He chuckled at the memory of a young Marinette storming into his office not giving an ounce of care that she was yelling at the one and only Bruce Wayne inside his own building. Placing a hand on Damian’s shoulder he went on, “I know you care deeply about Marinette and that you are afraid of losing her but what about your family?  We all care about you but look at yourself Damian. You haven’t been eating, you’re running on zero sleep and didn’t come upstairs for the last few weeks. Heck, your brothers and Alfred have been taking care of a crying Thomas who keeps calling out for his parents. Your son misses you. I know this is a difficult time for you but you’re not the only one who is missing her. Let us be there for you and come out to support your son.” 

For the first time in months, Damian cried. He cried about allowing Marinette to go recharge on her own, about not arriving at the warehouse fast enough, about never being able to hear her angelic laugh again and not being there for his son during his mother’s absence. He decided that from now on he is going to take care of his son just how Marinette would have wanted him to.

It's been exactly four years and here Damian stood staring at Marinette’s tombstone, hugging his five year old son tightly as tears formed around his eyes.   

In memory of Marinette Cheng- Wayne 

A loving wife, mom and in law

20XX  

-------------------- 

I blame all the maribat writers for pulling me into this hole of maribat shippers that I can’t get out of. This is my contribution to the daminette fandom :) 

For now this is a one-shot but I do have some ideas for a continuation.

** English isn’t by best subject so sorry for the grammatical incorrections- I tired 

[avaliveradio]

Greg Hoy 'Move Along' is a mantra to keep going even when life is a drag

This song is written in the throes of the pandemic, 'Move Along' is a mantra to keep going even when life is a drag.

'Move Along' was the first song written for the album 'Cacophony'. We were stuck in quarantine last spring. The Dolly Parton biography was on television. She is one of my idols. She talks about writing 'one or a few songs every day.' So that night, my goal was to write a song a day. I did that for a week, and most of them were terrible, but 'Move Along' was the piece I wrote that particular night after being inspired by Dolly. It's about how life unfolds and how we do our best to ride the chaos while we are here.

We are excitedly booking a 3-week midwest tour for the fall to prepare a new EP for release.

Artist: Greg Hoy

New Release: Move Along

Genre: Rock, Americana, AltRock, Singer-Songwriter

Sounds like: : Tom Petty, Pixies, Wilco, Elvis Costello, Wallflowers, Foo Fighters

Located in: : San Francisco, CA

About the Artist

Greg Hoy is many things. He's a singer-songwriter, multi-instrumentalist, a recording producer, a recording engineer, something of a marketing guru, a jingle and sound composer and producer, a 'people engineer' in the tech world, an art director, and a label owner. But when you boil it all down — he's really just a guy in a band.

"Music is in everything I do. Helping companies hiring people is just like putting a band together. I've been fortunate that both sides of my brain work in tandem," the California-based artist says with a good-natured laugh.

With his 2020 tour cancelled due to... well, you know what, Greg managed to coax East Bay, California's Tiny Telephone studio owner John Vanderslice into letting he and his band social distance to make 'Cacophony' - an 11 song cycle now out on gold vinyl - written and recorded in just two weeks. The lyrically output was heavy: birth, death, pandemics, and fires. But that fast and furious creative drive is what propels him to create.

When you do more, you do more. So, maybe, it's the collective inertia of all his projects that propels Greg's prolific output? Somehow, between wearing so many hats — including tirelessly touring the nation in a vintage Airstream on the Limited Mileage tour throughout 2019 — he made time to write and a record a refreshingly eclectic, 22-song double-vinyl self-titled concept album released as the self-titled Greg Hoy & The Boys.

His last 2019 release, Enjoy the View, was recorded mostly live by audio legend Steve Albini (Nirvana, Pixies, PJ Harvey) in Chicago & mixed in Oregon by the equally amazing Sylvia Massy (Tool, Johnny Cash, Tom Petty, Red Hot Chili Peppers). Clocking in at just under 20 minutes, the band pushed the limits as a meaty 3 piece. The result is an immediately hooky slab of caffeinated, propulsive, plug-in-and-play rock n roll.

To date, the restless creative has issued over 30 albums under various monikers, including The Royal Panics, Greg Hoy ("no boys" for intimate releases), Greg Hoy & The Boys, and Twice As Bright. Mostly these days, he fires up Greg Hoy & The Boys, a loose collective of friends and trusted musicians that includes boys and girls.

Greg's vibrantly diverse output harkens back to the bedroom 4-track visionary aesthetic of 1990s indie-rock, as epitomized by Guided By Voices and its fearless leader Bob Pollard. When you distill it all down, Greg plays retro rock n' roll meticulously crafted from the timeless essentials of infectious melodies paired with undeniable grooves. Yet, within this focused path, Greg issues diverse albums aligned in spirit with such singular artists as Jack White, Dave Grohl, Neil Young, Queens Of The Stone Age, Cake, The Jam, The Who, The Beatles... "All the 'the something' bands," Greg playfully adds.

Catch Greg out in the wild in 2021.

(Bio by Lorne Behrman)

LINKS:  https://open.spotify.com/track/3khWcvwS8w2dZAh7uJ9LfM?si=4b62a992b1c94451 https://www.instagram.com/thegreghoy https://twitter.com/thegreghoy https://www.facebook.com/greghoyandtheboys https://thegreghoy.com/

Featured on these Playlists:

🔥Release Radar New Music Playlist https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2JOBcgSYgGmV2g27N1CUXx?si=PQFpAPUbQ0m4ByZEbtBtLg

🔥JAX DAILY Morning Coffee Playlist:

  https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7pEY8BiSj6sLLSHAoOo9k0?si=IrwIjmHVRN2vswRyw_P6gA

🔥Songwriter Gold https://open.spotify.com/playlist/68x51bTCMLuLi4o6vqwGfh?si=hXz5kG-rTN-bGkZBJuPm9g

🔥SUMMER SINGLES Fresh Indie Music Finds https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7oQCpI2xEN2RaGWLcRGQJX?si=o93Tf3RwSH2HLg4B57qAVw

🔥Road Trip Best Indie Folk 2020 Music Playlist - Indie / Pop / Folk / Rock https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1PLd9drToDxT0rUcGWGpZ9?si=FvfbaXtcQ1-HJyHf3h59oA

[kinda-iconic]

So He’s the Captain?

This is just a little Distant Shores Drabble that I wanted to write before the release of tonight’s chapter... it’s nothing special, but I felt like writing it.

Edit: I did like that chapter, but I just feel as though it may have gone differently... if the Navy were after them, then they’d be hot on their heels! 

Pairing: Edward x F!MC (Clara)

Tagging: @vanillamaa​ @bloodboundismylife​ @elinechoices​ @octobereighth​ @adrianadmirer​ @fallendarkangel693​ @chaotic-pixie​

Word Count: 1′590 ish

Summary: This takes place right after the events of Chapter 7... it’s not great, but it was worth a shot!

‘You’re a…what?’

Clara remains motionless, staring back at the man before her, her eyes widening with befuddlement. Before she has a chance to speak, he draws her further into the alley; his voice is calming, yet his words have a slight urgency to them.

‘I cannot repeat it,’ he glances around, ensuring that they are alone before continuing, ‘if anyone else finds out who I am, then I am most likely a dead man.’ 

‘Well, I haven’t killed you yet…and I’ve had plenty of chances to!’

‘Please Clara,’ he chuckles softly, shaking his head in amusement, ‘I may have only known you for no more than an hour or two, but you do not exactly strike me as the killing sort.’

She fixes her gaze on him, her arms slowly folding across her chest as she regards him with curiosity.

‘So, you’re a Lieutenant?’

He responds with a curt nod.

‘You don’t look like you belong in the Navy.’

‘That is because I have been trying to blend in,’ he looks back up at her, tilting his head in intrigue, ‘was it enough to fool you?’

She scoffs, regarding him with a bemused smile.

‘Not in the slightest.’

He shrugs, reaching up to adjust his hat.

‘I thought not; I told the Admiral that I would need to wear something a lot more convincing.’

‘You’ve spoken to the Admiral?’

‘Not as much as I would like, if I am being honest,’ he runs a gentle hand across the sleeve of his shirt, tugging at the hem, ‘though he did make the time to give me some advice as to what would be appropriate for a Pirate to wear.’

‘And he settled on… that?’

He smiles at her in admiration, his voice taking a curious tone.

‘I am guessing that you are not fond of my attire?’

‘Well, it’s not exactly one that I would -’

‘CLARA!’

The pair turn their attention to the east, their eyes settling on a familiar figure as she rushes towards them, her hand clasped tightly around the hilt of her sword. Clara takes a step forward, her expression one of confusion as she sees the panic in her eyes.

‘Charlie? Is everything…’

‘We need to leave,’ she grabs hold of Clara’s arm, tugging her in the direction of the port, ‘most of the crew are onboard already.’

‘Most of the crew…?’ She stops short, glancing back at Oliver, her wariness evident in her eyes, ‘who… who isn’t?’

‘It is just us and Edward,’ she pulls on Clara’s sleeve, forcing her forward, ‘now we really must go!’

‘But why isn’t Edward on board? Shouldn’t he already -’

‘Why do you think?’ She exclaims with suddenness, keeping a watchful eye over her shoulder, ‘he has spent the past twenty minutes looking for you!’

‘Me?’

‘Yes! Now we really must go…’

She leads Clara out into the open, their gazes swiftly darting from the market square to the port, where they catch sight of Edward; he stands amidst a group of travelers, discreetly bowing his head as if to avoid suspicion, but it isn’t long before he catches Clara’s eye. He pushes through the crowd, making his way towards them. Charlie sighs in frustration, addressing Clara through gritted teeth.

‘That man is going to get himself killed if he is not careful.’

‘Can’t you tell him to stay back?’

She scoffs, shaking her head.

‘When Edward sees something he wants, then he does whatever he can to possess it,’ she regards him with a scowl as he presses forward, ‘and in this case it is you, Love.’

‘Edward?’

They turn to look at Oliver, who remains exactly in the spot where he was previously standing; he watches Clara closely, his brows narrowing in recognition as he studies her face.

‘As in Edward Mortemer… the Captain of Poseidon’s Revenge?’

Clara’s eyes begin to widen, the realisation of the severity of this encounter starting to weigh on her. She tries to speak, desperately hoping that she can form a coherent sentence, but before she is able to say anything, a pair of hands settle on her waist, pushing her forward and further down the path. 

‘Come ON, Clara!’ 

Charlie leads her across the street, narrowly avoiding a couple of market vendors as they try desperately to hide their possessions from view. The pair make a run for it, heading in the direction of Edward and the ship; Clara glances back at the alley, as if trying to locate the man she was with moments before, but is met with an empty space, devoid of any persons or sources of light. However, as she turns to refocus on the route that she is travelling, she manages to collide with someone; she loses her balance, but before she has the chance to hit the ground, a pair of strong hands take hold of her upper arms, gently steadying her. Winded and slightly embarrassed, she looks down at her feet, her cheeks turning a shade of crimson. She begins to stutter, her words clumsy and ill-timed.

‘Oh, I… I’m sorry!’

‘There is no need to apologise, Miss Bellamy.’  

She looks up at the sound of his voice, his tone and address somewhat familiar; Edward stands before her, an amused smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He reaches forward, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

‘Are you quite alright?’ He regards her with curiosity, ‘you seem to be rather out of sorts…’

She chuckles nervously, her breathing frantic and laboured.

‘That tends to happen when the Navy turn up and start wrecking the joint!’

‘Wrecking the…’ he shakes his head in puzzlement, ‘I may not understand what you have just said, but I am guessing it is in reference to our unwanted company and their untoward behaviour when it comes to other people’s property.’

A distant shout can be heard from the tavern, the harrowing sound of heavy boots following shortly after. Clara looks back over her shoulder, her voice laden with guilt and concern.

‘Sh…shouldn’t we go back and help them?’ She turns back to face him, ‘the people in the tavern…’

He shakes his head.

‘They would want us to go.’ 

‘But what if they’re being hurt?’ She queries, the intonation in her voice rising, ‘I thought that… I thought that you and your crew protected them?’

‘We do,’ Charlie interjects, placing her sword back into its sheath, ‘but how can we protect them if we are imprisoned? How can we provide them with coins or food if we are dead and buried?’

‘But -’

‘Charlie is right, Clara,’ he takes her hand in his, giving it a comforting squeeze as his fingers entwine with hers, ‘the best thing that we can do for them now is to leave port.’

‘And leave them defenseless?’

‘Once the British know that we are no longer here, then they will return to their ships and try their best to follow us.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘Because I know the Admiral,’ his stoic expression soon dissipates, swiftly replaced by a mischievous grin, ‘and he is not one to let his spoils get away.’ He hastily glances up at the ship before returning his attention to Clara, his voice firm and somewhat urgent, ‘now we really must be on our way!’

He starts towards the gangway, his grip on her hand tightening as he pulls her along, ensuring that she does not fall behind. Once they are there, he gestures for Charlie to climb aboard before spinning on his heel to face Clara.

‘It may be some time before we leave port,’ he places a gentle hand on the small of her back, ‘I need you to remain in my quarters.’

‘But what about you?’

‘I’ll be alright, Miss Bellamy,’ he flashes her a brazen smile, ‘but my priority is keeping you safe.’

‘From the Admiral?’ She furrows her brows, her voice quiet and full of worry, ‘but you said that he wouldn’t be -’

‘He should not,’ he shakes his head, ‘but one cannot be too careful.’ He reaches towards her, his hand inching close to her cheek, but it is not long before he pulls away, averting her gaze. ‘Now, get on the ship, Miss Bellamy.’

‘But Edward -’

‘That is an order, Clara,’ he retorts with sternness, his eyes blazing with anger and uncertainty, ‘I will not ask you again.’

He forces her further up the gangway, gesturing for Charlie to guide her back onto the ship. At first, Clara is reluctant, but as she turns back, she is met by Edward’s expectant gaze.

‘NOW, Miss Bellamy!’

She does as instructed, turning sharply towards the deck of the ship, but as she draws nearer, the sound of begotten footsteps gets louder, followed by a familiar voice emerging from the shadows. 

‘Do NOT let him get away!’

Oliver stands by the end of the dock, pointing in the direction of the Captain; his men advance on Edward, who remains steady on the deck below, his hand clasped tightly around the hilt of his sword. As the men draw closer, he removes his sword from its sheath, adjusting himself into a defensive position. Clara’s gaze drifts between them. She clambers onto the ship, clumsily holding onto the railings as she beckons Edward from above, her voice frantic and shaken. 

‘EDWARD!’

The Lieutenant looks to the ship, scanning for the source of the commotion, but as his gaze befalls the owner of the voice, his face begins to pale, the rosiness in his cheeks now non-existent.

‘C...Clara?’

[ill-skillsgard]

On the Market - Henry Deaver X Mistress

Warning: 18+ mentions of sex/cheating/mature themes. *This part contains consensual sleep sex* Please read at your own discretion.

Note: Just a smutty little nudge in the next direction. I’m sorry about the delay. I know there is a pretty equal divide in the direction that readers want this series to go in, but this part has no butt stuff >< I’m planning to come out with a longer, more angst-driven part next, but I’ll need time! I appreciate all the requests I still get for this pairing! Kisses!

Read more Henry x Mistress imagines here > Masterpost

The letters shouted in black and white. “Local business mogul caught in a steamy affair with woman half his age!” Why did they have to mention your age? You were a fully grown adult capable of making your own decisions. How could something like this go to print? It wasn’t fair. Your heart plummeted into a deep, jagged pit that opened up in your chest. Everlasting panic kicked the breath from your lungs, and then a yawn of warmth swallowed you whole, filling up your mouth, nose, ears and eyes. 

The crevice left by the terrible news suddenly closed, and you coughed up the black residue left behind from the flash fire in your chest. Although there was a nagging sensation on your legs, you could breathe and that’s all that mattered. 

After a moment, the nagging on your legs moved across your body like a warm ghost pressing your abdomen. The pressure increased, diminishing into a concentrated beam that bristled all over one spot. It slipped down between your legs like a hot stream from the bathtub faucet just like the time you discovered how friendly a private bath with the door locked could be.

This sensation chased away all the dark and erased the glaring, accusatory headlines. You were in love, and nothing was wrong with that. If you could stamp your foot and shake your fist, you would declare it. But something rooted you in the bed, weighing down your limbs as morning faded into view.

The dawn glared through slits in the drapes, and you recoiled from a real burst of heat between your legs. When you looked down, there was no surge of hot water, but a tongue, and a mouth, and then a pair of eyes that did not match. His pixie nose squished against your mound. Henry fought off a smile but could not stifle an excitable laugh.

“Mm, good morning.”

“What is this? And from my sweet little Christian boy?” You had to tease him one more time.

He nipped back with lips sheathed over his teeth. “Would a sweet boy wake you up this way?”

It was your turn to stifle a titter. “Um, yes. This is exactly what a sweet boy would do.”

“I remembered what you said about how...” His words strayed as his attention pulled away from your face and went back to your clit. Henry smeared the entirety of his tongue between your pussy lips, opening you wide for another, similar licking.

“Oh-oh, my god,” you squeaked before clapping a hand over your mouth in disbelief.

Maybe it was your senses lagging in waking up with you, but the feeling of Henry’s mouth on your pussy sent stronger jolts of stimulation through your body than you could handle. He spent an obscene moment parting the lush skin, spitting and sucking it all back up into his mouth. When he deposited that same bubble of saliva in the same spot, you groaned out without shame.

It may have been the most arousing thing you had ever witnessed, and a voice screamed out for you to capture it. Your phone was plugged in beside the bed, only an arm’s length away, so you reached and dragged it across the blankets, clicking on the camera before Henry had the chance to notice. He was busy, after all.

Henry hummed, his lips encircling your clit before speaking. “Woke up so hungry for your pussy, baby. I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself. I just remembered how good we fucked last night, and I needed you again.”

A short gasp left him when he looked up and saw your phone pointed at him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I just need this, okay?”

“Why? I’m right here, right now.”

“I want to remember how good you look eating my pussy.”

Those words became the new headline of your day, and when Henry finished you, he had to clamp your legs to his shoulders to keep you from shaking. The man didn’t want a thing in return besides the taste of your orgasm on his tongue, refusing a quick blowjob to insist you get ready for work. 

He liked it when you got into the office before him. It gave people the impression that you were more diligent in your job than he was, which wasn’t a far cry in his business. People with positions like Henry’s were rarely scrutinized for their tardiness. If you showed up on time while he sauntered in of his own volition, it might deter people from asking too many questions about you. 

You were uncertain of how much rumour had gone around about the blow-up in Henry’s office. As you walked through and quietly greeted the familiar people of your floor, there was no detectable air of tension. Still, it was hard not to be on edge, and when you took your first bathroom break of the morning, it confirmed your suspicions.

Henry texted you to say there was a hold-up at his brunch meeting before he could make it in, so your workday would comprise following up on important dates and intercepting phone calls from his lawyers. It also meant you could slack off, but not in plain sight. 

With one earbud in, you tried not to laugh at silly videos on the internet. You weren’t using the washroom, per se, merely adopting it as an excuse to kick back for a self-dictated amount of time. Henry had been right about a lot, one of his points being the office was laid back, and prolonged absences here and there set off no alarms.

The washroom door gusted open, and two sets of kitten heels clicked over the floor.  Neither of them made a path to the stall beside you. Instead, they went to the mirrors above the sinks. You paused the video you were watching out of habit and held your breath.

“I mean, he is good-looking. In that weird psycho-killer looking way, but I never imagined him single. He and Mary just seemed like one of those untouchable couples. The ones that meet in high school and die side-by-side sort of thing.”

“You think he’s good-looking?”

“Hell yes, girl. His eyes might be a little spooky, but I’m into it. He’s got a nice smile.”

“I guess. And tall.”

“You know what that means.”

Your palms dampened as you tried to spy the two women talking about your boyfriend through the cracks in the stall door. You thought about clearing your throat to alert them to your presence, but it was too late. There was much to hear.

“I heard he’s already got a new girlfriend.”

A gasp pealed through the washroom, echoing off the porcelain. “What? How do you know?”

“That’s what one of Mary’s friends from across said. That’s how she found out. Supposedly, somebody saw ol’ Mr. Deaver getting close with a lady.”

“Where?” The voices carried off on the backs of heels.

When they left, you noticed how tense your shoulders were. There was nothing you could do about what they said, but it didn’t stop you from grinding your teeth. 

After a short time, you went through your videos and clicked the thumbnail showing Henry’s brown hair between your thighs. A smirk cracked over your face as you popped in your other earbud and turned up the volume to better hear the sloppy, wet sounds of Henry’s tongue lapping at your pussy.

“Mm, yes, baby. Please come on my tongue. You can do it. Come all over my face. Do it for me.”

[imaginationofacrazyfangirl]

A Not So Beautiful Fairytale

Pairing:  BTS x Reader, Yes all of them.

Genre: Fantasy/Angst/Smut/ Some humor

Summary: You find yourself slave to seven very handsome supernatural beings. They claim they want nothing more than companionship, but years of servitude taught you not to trust their kind. Either way you just need to hang on until you can find your little sister who was separated from you years ago. 

Word Count: 2874

Warnings: Violence, slavery, implied rape, future smut (involving who knows yet, but will update when I do.)

 Human auctions are not uncommon in the supernatural world. As much as they (being the supernatural) feared the knowledge of their existence getting exposed to humans, they couldn’t seem to help themselves from playing with the same creatures they fear so much. Perhaps it is just in their nature to want to maintain dominance over such inferior beings? Whatever the reason is, Namjoon hates slave auctions. He felt no thrill in using a human as servant or some sort of pet to humiliate. Nor did he enjoy in the more carnal pleasure some of his kind took with their human slaves.

   Besides Namjoon couldn’t stand the wailing noise of terror or the sharp scent of piss which accompanied the slave blocks. They were too much for his delicate senses; another reason he chose to avoid the black market as much as possible. Despite being the main source for supernatural to obtain their most basic non-human goods, the market tends to be littered with slave blocks everywhere. The things are practically shoved into every sharp corner or center stage possible in the small square making it virtually impossible to avoid.

    Hence why Seokjin normally did all the shopping for the household. As a siren, he lacked the capability to experience sensations beyond the level of a human. So his tolerance level for such sights is much higher than Namjoon’s. Moreover Jin is pretty much the mother figure of their strange little family of seven and knows better than anyone the things needed in their household. Whereas Namjoon normally buys more than necessary only to destroy half of it on accident due to his clumsiness. So it is only on the rarest occasions such as today when no one else can go that Namjoon is forced to make the trip to the black market.

     He only thanks the heavens that Seokjin didn’t send him alone instead forcing the youngest/newest of their family Jungkook to join him. The dark haired, wide eyed phoenix is still very much a hatchling in spite of being over a hundred years old. Something evident by how he looks around the market mouth hung open.

 “Hyung! This place is amazing!” he exclaims.

   Namjoon smiles shaking his head. He supposes Jungkook is right. The market is a sight to see, especially when compared to those in the human community. Unlike in the human world where everything is modernized, the supernatural community tends to keep their markets and cities no older than the Victorian period. And this particular market hasn’t updated since the renaissance period leaving in its old cobble roads, brick buildings, geometrical favoring and other old fashioned styling. Furthermore its riddled with creatures of all sorts ranging from pale winged faeries to glistening scaled nagas slinking around in their natural forms. A rare sight to see outside such venues. 

    “You’re gonna catch flies if you keep your mouth open like that.” Namjoon teases ruffling Jungkook’s already messy hair.

   The younger boy immediately shuts his mouth. A light blush forms on his cheeks causing Namjoon to smile wider. ‘To be young and unknowing again,’ Namjoon wistfully thinks to himself. He’s not by far the youngest of the group, but he is more knowledgeable of the world than even his elder brothers Jin and Hoseok. His second elder brother Yoongi is the only one more experienced and disillusioned than he is. 

   “Look Namjoon, honey cake!” Jungkook cries, pointing at a wooden stand with a royal blue awning. Under it a sun kissed skinned faerie baters with a red eyed fury over the fluffy golden cakes dripping with honey. Jungkook runs to the stand not even waiting for Namjoon’s response. His body literally glow red at excite over the cakes. Suddenly Namjoon wishes he had gone alone, because something tells him, he’ll be spending way above the budget Jin set for them. Especially since he can never deny getting his brothers anything they wanted.

    "We’ll take four. “ Namjoon orders.

Jungkook frowns.. "Only four? Hyung, I can eat eight and still have room for more. ”

    "We’re here to buy supplies, remember? Jin will kill us if we don’t come home with what was on the list.“ 

   An annoyed huff escapes the phoenix but he says no more deciding it best not to argue. Namjoon is right. Jin would murder them if they returned empty-handed or at least scold them into the next decade. "Fine, but I’m eating one right now. ”

   "Aish, such a kid.“ 

"Exactly. So you should feed me more. I need it to grow.” Jungkook replied, mouth full of cake. 

     Namjoon rolls his eyes. “You’ve been hanging Hoseok too much. He’s starting to rub off on you.”

        “Nothing wrong with that.”  Jungkook says stuffing the last of his treat into his mouth. “So where to next, hyung?”

     Glad for the reprieve Namjoon glances at the list Jin gave him. It’s short compared to what Jin normally wrote when he went shopping. No doubt an act of mercy for Namjoon to which he’s internally grateful for. “Red root and dried dove’s blood, Jin says the best place for it is a druid shop not too far from the market.”

    “Woah! I’ve never seen a druid before-let’s go.” 

Yup…Jungkook has a lot to learn still.

//

   Shopping goes along surprisingly well thanks to Jin’s thorough instructions. They even manage somehow not to blow their budget on silly knick knacks and treats; though Namjoon has his suspicions about just how much money Jin gave them. Either way Namjoon owes Jin the world’s biggest ‘thank you’ for not only were his instructions thorough, but they somehow directed him away from every slave in the vicinity. 

   "Aaahh, we’re all done. Let’s go home, huh Mr. JK?“ Namjoon smiles.

 Silence.

  "Jungkook?” Namjoon turns only to find the phoenix gone. Panic arises in him knowing how naive the boy still is and how tricky the market can be. For all Namjoon knows Jungkook already traded away his first born or something worse to a shady vendor. The thought hits Namjoon like a freight train. “Jungkook!?”

   Closing his eyes, Namjoon blocks every sense of his but smell. Thankfully phoenixes have a rather distinct scent of smoke, ashes and cinnamon making it easy to point Jungkook out of the maze of creatures. Even more thankfully Namjoon doesn’t smell any of the usual worrisome vendors around the boy. What he does smell though are the sour vinegar scent of piss, salt water, copper and humans…Jungkook found his way to a slave block. 

   Briefly Namjoon debates on letting the phoenix find his own way back. After all, Jungkook isn’t that young he can’t figure out how to find Namjoon. Plus as a phoenix, Jungkook technically is the strongest of creatures in their family-so it’s not like Namjoon needs protect him all the time… 

      It takes Namjoon less than a second to find him. The younger boy unsurprisingly stands at the very front of the block. His eyes wide open as he stares at the three humans on stage. Undoubtedly this is Jungkook’s first auction, and like most of their kind, he’s enthralled by it. 

  "Come on, Jungkook. Let’s go.“ Namjoon says, grabbing him by the shoulder. He purposefully turns to miss the frightened faces of the humans. As much as he hates glamour, it seems kinder to deceive humans of their horrible fate. 

    "Hyung, look.” Jungkook urges, eyes unwavering from their original spot.

   Namjoon shakes his head. “A slave auction I know. I’ve seen them before Kookie.”

 “And how much are you willing to pay for this male human? He has plenty of fat on him, making him the perfect entree dish for your next dinner party!” The auctioneer cheers. 

 A violent sob escapes the human followed by loud offers from the crowd. Namjoon can’t help but sneer at them. For a race that thought themselves superior than humans, they are truly awful creatures. 

  The gavel slams. “Sold to the pixies. Enjoy ladies and fella. Next of human 427, a little on the old side but still good for things like embroidery, cleaning or aged bone soup.”

    "Jungkook now.“ Namjoon orders. He puts a bit of his strength into it but the phoenix barely budges.

       "Joonie, you don’t understand. Look.” Jungkook pleads, pointing. Reluctantly Namjoon does as asked his eyes landing on the third human. He supposes he shouldn’t be too surprised to find that the human who ‘enchanted’ Jungkook is a young woman, the phoenix is young after all. “She’s beautiful…”

  The longing in Jungkook’s voice nearly strikes a chord within his own heart. From where he stands you don’t appear beautiful, your (h/c) hair is long and unruly from lack of care, skin a shade paler than it should be from lack of sunlight, dirt splotches decorate your naked body along with bruises and scars most likely given by your 'caretakers ’. No you are far from beautiful. However for some reason Namjoon can’t pull his eyes away. 

   "I want her, Namjoon-hyung.“ Jungkook states, his voice leaving no room for argument. 

   "Jungkook, we can’t buy her-”

     "Why not? I have more than enough money to. I’d take care of her like how my parents care for their humans. “

    "She’s not a pet, Kookie. She’s a living creature with feelings and emotions.” Namjoon swallows, trying to remember why buying humans is bad.

     "She won’t be my pet. I’ll let her do whatever she wants no questions asked. I just need her to be mine, hyung.“ The determination in Jungkook’s voice shakes Namjoon to his core. He’s only heard Jungkook that determined once in his life, and that was to join their family. 

    "Next up we got this foxy little minx here. ” the auctioneer says. 

     The guards push you further on stage, almost causing you to stumble due to your unwillingness to move. You shoot them a hateful look. Suddenly Namjoon realizes why he finds you so interesting, you have no fear or sorrow in your eyes. Everything about you screams fighter not victim. 

  “As you can see folks, she’s not the most pliant of our lot, but that’s nothing a little glamour won’t fix. Am I right?”  The auctioneer grins. As if to prove a point he walks over to you hand out glimmering with magic. He’s undoubtedly going to put you under, something which Namjoon is surprisingly grateful for. Perhaps if you have the druggy blank stare and dreamy smile all glamoured humans do, he’ll be able to turn and leave.

    The auctioneer reaches out to caress you. However instead of meeting your soft skin, his hand tastes the sharpness of your teeth. A scream erupts him as the guards rush to pull you off. All the while the crowd watches first in silent contemplation of these chain of events then in laugher and finally whispered caution of you. 

   "Evil thing. You’ve just lost any chance you had at escaping here alive.“ the auctioneer growled, slapping you hard. "I told you to behave, and you didn’t listen. Now you’ll pay. ”

  Horror invades Namjoon as the auctioneer raises the gavel above your head. “FORTY THOUSAND!" 

    The words escape Namjoon before he knows it. All eyes turn to him in disbelief. With a deep swallow Namjoon makes his resolve. "I’ll pay forty thousand for her.”

   The auctioneer cocks an eyebrow. “You’d pay for this insolent brat?”

    "I said forty thousand didn’t I?“ Namjoon retorts.

 The auctioneer eyes him for a second. A greedy smile spreads across his face. Immediately Namjoon knows this is going to take a turn for the worse. "This brat has caused me a lot of strife these last few months. So much so revenge is sounding rather nice compared to whatever price you’re low balling me.”

    Namjoon scoffs. Forty thousand is far from low balling if anything it is a hundred times more than you are worth. Moreover Namjoon knows what the auctioneer wants in exchange and no human is worth that price. Yet he can’t find it in himself to leave. “Forty thousand and two years worth of cultivation.”

   "Namjoon-hyung! That’s your life energy you’re exchanging. “ Jungkook hisses.

    Namjoon doesn’t waver. "Well?”

 "Like I said I don’t appreciate lowballers.“ The auctioneer frown, swinging the gavel downwards.

    "NO!" 

   "I’ll add a phoenix tear!” Jungkook’s voice rings out. 

   The gavel stops mid-air. Interest returns to the auctioneer in the form of a grin. “Really a phoenix tear? Forty thousand, two years of life force, and a phoenix tear?”

  Now it is Namjoon’s turn to protest. “No. Jungkook, nothing is worth that price.”

    Phoenixes tears valued more than anything any supernatural could give, and the method of extracting them…Namjoon doesn’t even want to picture it. “He’s already asking for too much. We should just leave -”

    "Stop hyung. I’ve already made my decision. “ Jungkook states firmly. "So auctioneer do we have a deal or are you just a greedy bastard?”

   The auctioneer hums stroking his chin, “Fine. Take her. She’s too much trouble for me. Good luck training her. ”

    Yanking the twine rope around your neck, the auctioneer throws you off the stage. Namjoon moves to catch you, but Jungkook is quicker grabbing you virtually in midair. He looks down at you with an expression, Namjoon has never seen on the phoenix before. “You are alright. You’re safe now. ” Jungkook promises.

   Words fail to express anything Namjoon is thinking, but he gets the feeling something has changed drastically. 

//

Tiny painful gasps escape you as the rope around your neck constricts. Even without the slaver or guards there to pull at it, you can feel its every tightening presence. Especially now that someone - something has bought you. “Hey, what’s wrong? Hyung, I think something is wrong with her!” The dark haired boy cried.

   He stares down at you eyes full of panic. It is odd to see a creature worried about someone outside of their race. In the two years of your captivity, you learned quickly just how little these things cared for humans. “She got yanked by the rope, Kookie. It probably bruised her throat if not knock the wind out of her at the very least. ” his blonde haired companion informs. 

  You eye him cautiously, unsure what to make of him or the boy. Overall he’s lankier with a skinnier but taller figure. Even his face is more defined with sharper angles in the nose and cheek area; which is funny because despite the baby fat still clinging to the brunette, you can tell he’s the more muscular of the two. “Asshole.” The brunette hisses, grabbing the rope.

    You flinch readying yourself for the pull only to feel a soft heat against your neck. The sense of something burning kisses your nose and a soft 'crackle’ chimes as the weight of the rope disappears. Slowly you open your eyes to find the rope in ashes. Brunette or Kookie as Blondie called him, smiles at you. “There. All better now. ”

   In disbelief, your hands search your neck only to find nothing. “W-why?”

 The question slips from you. This is definitely not normal slave owner behavior. Were they trying to lure you by feigning kindness? Or did they truly mean it? Maybe they were abolitionists who hated slavery-if such people existed in the supernatural community. 

     Kookie’s smile widens. “It was hurting you, right? So I took care of it like any good owner would.”

   Owner? Whatever hopes you may have are destroyed by that single utterance. Nothing changed, you are still trapped. “Aish, what did I say about her not being a pet, Jungkook?” The blonde chastises. 

  Kookie, Jungkook or whatever his name is, shoots him a sheepish look. His doughy cheeks redden with embarrassment. He looks genuinely ashamed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean you were a pet. I meant a-”

       "A slave?“ You finish for him. "Or am I to be food for you at some point?”

   Horror washes across Jungkook’s face. To his credit, he even turn a little pale at the question. “What? No! I would never eat you -or any humans. I love humans. It’s just…you’re just-”

     The blonde lays a comforting hand on Jungkook’s head silencing him. “Jungkook’s too pure hearted to cause anyone harm without reason.”

     "I’m human what more reason do you need?“ You reply unwavering. Scars and bruises litter your body from these 'pure hearted ’ creatures. Nothing, no promise or assurance can ever make you trust them. 

       Light brown eyes scan you as if searching for something you can’t see. Subconsciously you push yourself further into Jungkook’s body as if to hide your vulnerability. Blondie smiles at you. It is a soft yet sorrowful smile as he knows exactly what you’ve gone through. He reaches out, his large hand cradling your chin. "You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you? I know my promise probably means nothing given my kind put you through this,  but you’ll be safe with us. I promise.”

   You open your mouth you protest, but no sound comes out. Prior experience warns against trusting these two, however something within silences it. Perhaps it is a fool’s wish, but you want to believe him… want to believe both of them.

    "Well if this isn’t a lovely sight?“ An all too familiar voice interrupts. The three of you look to see the auctioneer grinning down at you. "Now if you two are done playing with the merchandise, a deal is a deal.”

//