#and then we all turn up to watch and it throws them through a crisis because they can feel our presence

[greedwritesstorys]

conversations in the tundra - dsmp short

tommy didn't remember everything between then and now. one moment the nukes were falling, the next him and jack were standing outside techno's house talking about happiness. he'd lived a whole life between those moments.

maybe there never was any nukes, maybe there isn't anything at all right now. maybe each moment was a dream of its own and he's somewhere else entirely. it didn't really matter. tommy was sure he could spend an eternity worrying about what was reality, but it wouldn't make a difference. the story was over, that much was clear, it had ended some time ago, when phil and techno and niki and ranboo had all left and there was nothing else to be said. no narrative left to weave peoples lives into whatever strange mesh it wanted. he remembered now his friend the honey bee farmer. tubbo, he was still somewhere.

did he have the same thoughts, was he left wondering what choices and actions led to this moment now. maybe. tommy doubted he'd get the chance to ask.

because for this moment, all of a sudden, he realised he felt like he was connected to it all still. like there was a story being told somewhere. like history was watching again, reminding him that things aren't forgotten because they fade a little. time might be relentless in turning everything to dust, in ensuring that "this too shall pass." but times power is equalled by our memory. nothing can truly die if it is remembered.

"are you happy? i guess that's all i'd care to know"

the answer came quickly, he'd been thinking about this too, for so long.

"getting there."

it was cold out, i mean, it was a tundra, of course it was cold out, why would anyone chose to live here of all places. maybe jack was on to something, a rundown casino might still be warmer than this.

did he miss the people they were back then? was it just that back then, back with the story was strong and the world alive, that he too felt alive, connected to everything. and if that was the case, was the only way to keep feeling like that to keep going, to keep that mess of fighting and betraying and anger rolling just so that the story didn't end. and if that were the case... was the only ending one where everything blew up...

tommy hated that idea, why should he have to die a hero or become a villain. why shouldn't this be as real as everything else was.

jack had left now, back to gambling or whatever, he seemed alright.

tommy felt that feeling fading again, the eyes were off him, no one watching. things were peaceful out here. the world was quiet here once more. he turned back to whatever it was he was doing before jack appeared. he didn't have all the answers to his questions, maybe he would find them in time, maybe he wouldn't.

somewhere far out in the wilderness, kingdoms were being toppled.

somewhere far into the future, lost citys were being discovered.

somewhere far from anything he could understand, green gods and winged men waited in a void.

all these stories are happening at once, because there are people out there still living them now.

"yeah" tommy thought to himself.

"i'm going to get there soon."

[lordprettyflackotara]

super rich kids || sam golbach & colby brock

SMUT MINORS DNI 18+. tw: drug usage to like the max extent, snc & reader are highkey all horny rich drug addicts. there are very much angsty undertones. i do not encourage nor condone inappropriate drug usage. threesome, anal, lots of praise honestly, double penetration.

“Well, that’s another party for the books!” Sam cheered.

The three of you had sobered up after a long night of partying, the mansion finally quiet as Colby finished climbing through the secret hatch to the root. The roof tile was rough against your bare legs, your sequin dress riding up your thighs. You had been friends with the boys since childhood, them becoming successful youtubers while you were their undercover manager. The money and fame had been around for quite a few years now, the only thing keeping any of you going being each other. “We throw parties like five times a month dude, this one was definitely tame compared to the others,” Colby countered. The sunrise was coming over the horizon, bright yellows and oranges painting the skies.

“At least this one wasn’t bombarded with fans. ‘Oh my God it’s Sam and Colby!! Oh my God!!’ Like fuck off let me do a line in peace,” You said, brutally mocking the fans who had snuck their way into the boys last party. “Speaking of lines, you got anymore on you?” Sam asked. Colby settled in beside you, bringing his knees closer to him. “I fuckin wish, maybe then I wouldn’t be such a bitch,” You hummed, mentally slapping yourself for not reserving some coke for after the thrasher. You all dug into your pockets, trying to find something to get high off of. You all came up empty handed, a groan escaping your lips. Sam playfully elbowed you, giving you a small grin.

“Relax pretty princess, when’s the last time we’ve all been sober anyways?”

The question stung like a fresh burn, the gears in your head slowly turning. Truthfully you couldn’t recall. When was the last time you all three had been sober together? Coke wasn’t any of your main choices but a party was a party, right? Wealth brought a lot of things. Drugs, fake friends, soul sucking lovers who only saw you for the dollar amount over your head. “Oh look there’s Emma and her crew,” Sam pointed at the white van pulling through the gates. The three of you felt like you saw the boys cleaning crew more than you saw any of your so called social media friends. “We should probably buy them a better car that van looks like shit,” Colby commented.

You tucked your knees up to your chest, watching Sam wave to the cleaning crew. “They should be used to seeing us up here. They know we love this view,” Sam said. You felt like shit, your high having plummeted and leaving you out to dry. “This fucking sucks,” You grumbled, nuzzling your face into your arm. Colby threw his arm around you, bringing you closer to him. “The come down doesn’t last forever, you’ll be alright,” He said encouragingly. Truthfully he felt just as shitty as you did. You leaned your head against him, taking a deep breath. When’s the last time you had been sober enough to feel yourself breathe? “Do you think life will always be like this?” You asked. The boys turned to look at you. “What do you mean by that?” Sam asked. You forced yourself to blink your eyes open, wrapping your arms around your legs. “I mean this can’t be it right? The ecstasy is great but it feels like shit when it’s over. Is money the real root to happiness or am I missing something here?” You asked.

“Are you sure the real key to happiness isn’t xanax?”

“Colby!”

Sam went to reach over you to playfully smack Colby, causing you to chuckle and roll your eyes. Once they settled down Sam spoke again, “Seriously though, I think that all that matters in this life is the three of us. As long as we have each other the rest will turn out fine.”

You could feel your smudged eyeliner burning your eyes, causing your waterlines to water. “Awe cmon, let’s get miss existential crisis cleaned up,” Colby chuckled, helping you rise to your feet. The three of you went into Sam’s bathroom, that shower being the biggest out of the three. Maybe it was some weird attachment issues all of you had, but you each felt the need to be around the others at all times. This included showers, after the time you passed out in scorching hot water from a bad reaction to Valium. How were you supposed to know how much mg it was? You never asked those kinds of questions. After that the three of you were closer then ever, showering and sleeping in each others beds like kids. Even with all the money in the world you only found comfort in one another. The water was warm, a soft groan escaping your lips as you tilted your head back towards the water.

“Feel that good huh?” Sam teased. You splashed water at him, the blonde laughing as he joined you. The shower was anything but small, multiple shower heads hung from the ceiling and marble seating on the sides. It had more than enough room for three people, that certainly didn’t keep you all from staying close together though. Colby shut the shower door, the three of you soaking in the warmth the shower provided. “We should’ve gotten something for the come down,” You sighed. trying to relax. You felt Sam’s arms wrap around your waist, while Colby cupped your face. You melted under their touch, your gaze meeting Colby’s. “Why don’t you let us take care of that?” He purred. One other thing to note about your dynamic with the boys, one that was far more notable than anything previous mentioned, was your love for them.

There were no labels tied to the three of you. But in a world of stds and crazy fans trying to get themselves pregnant to trap them, you only trusted one another. You melted into Colby’s kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer. The wealth and drugs meant nothing at all if you couldn’t have them at the end of the day. Sam moved your hair away from your neck, placing his lips against your skin. Sam loved to litter you with hickies. Watching you get all flustered when asked who gave them to you was a sight to see. You groaned into Colby’s mouth as Sam’s hands explored your body, caressing and squeezing every curve. The only high you could never get enough of, one that could never be replaced, was the one the boys provided you. You could feel both boys grow hard around you, your hands slithering down to both of their cocks. Sam chuckled from behind you, slithering his hand down to your cunt.

The hot water and both boys on you like wild animals was suffocating in the best way possible. You pumped both of them in unison, sinful noises from all three of you bouncing around the shower walls. Sam’s fingers slowly swirled around your clit, causing you to moan louder than you had anticipated. “Awe there’s our noisy girl,” Colby praised. Your eyes fluttered closed as he kissed the other side of your neck, just as eager as Sam to litter you with marks. It was hard enough explaining how you gained hickies on one side of your neck, nevertheless both. You tried to focus on jerking both of the boys off, your focus becoming skewed as Sam's fingers began to circle your clit faster. Your moans were becoming louder and more uncontrolled, the boys exchanging devious smirks. "Theres no doubt the maids can hear her," Colby stated calmly, as if he was discussing the weather. He took the opportunity to gently nibble at your neck, causing your ass to press against Sam. "I think that's what she wants, isn't it?" Sam asked teasingly.

The blonde slithered down to your entrance, shoving two fingers inside. "She's already so wet for us Colby, you should feel it," Sam said, rutting his hips into your hand. The brunette stared down at you lustfully, his pupils blown with lost. "I think I will," He agreed. You whined as Colby shoved a finger inside of your cunt alongside Sam's, mimicking Sam's curling upwards. "S-So full," You whimpered, grabbing onto Colby for support. Colby shoved in another finger, your walls spasming as they struggled to take both boys sets of fingers. The four fingers buried inside of you were stretching you to what felt like your limit, your eyes fluttering shut. "Sorry pretty princess, you know i'm not a patient man," Colby chuckled. You bit your bottom lip, your gummy walls clinging to their digits. They matched each others pace, curling their fingers at the same time. You could feel them brush against your g spot, your head tilting back against Sam's shoulder for support. Your hips were moving on their own, involuntarily grinding against their fingers, begging for more.

"What's wrong? Four fingers not enough for you?" Sam asked mockingly, nibbling at your earlobe. Colby grabbed your throat, squeezing the sides, He brought his thumb to your lip, pulling it downwards assertively. "Oh don't be so mean Sam, you know there's only one way she can cum," He reminded him. It was true, the amount of drugs you all consumed affecting the way you were able to orgasm. You couldn't even recall everything you had tried, but you did know a couple of things for sure. While high on whatever was presented in front of you, you could cum in all kinds of ways. There was no limit, the boys able to make you cum off of anything. A brief memory of them getting you off by having you hump the side of the bathroom sink while they watched came to mind. But sober? There was only one way for you to find sweet relief. "You know what to do, jump for us," Sam cooed encouragingly. You did as instructed, both sets of their strong hands helping you wrap your legs around Colby's waist. You relaxed under their grasp, trusting them to know they'd keep you in position.

Their fingers abandoned your cunt, a whine escaping your lips as you clenched around nothing. "Would you do the honors Colb?" Sam asked, rubbing his shaft up and down the molds of your ass. The brunette and you watched as he rubbed his cock up and down your folds, before slowly shoving it inside of you. You moaned his name, both of you mesmerized as your cunt eagerly pulled him in. "Think she's desperate for us," Colby said casually. The boys had an ongoing bit where they talked to each other as if you weren't there, your body a dead give a way you loved every second of it. "Is that so? Hurry up and get in there so I can give her what she wants," Sam chuckled, kissing up the side of your neck to help with the stretch. There was never an issue with whoever took your cunt, the real challenge was whoever took you from behind. You could feel Colby's large hands securely grabbing your ass, spreading it apart for Sam's viewing. His tip brushed against your g spot, your body tensing as Sam spat on your asshole. "Relax pretty girl, you've done this before," Colby cooed, trying to refocus your attention back on him. He brought his lips to yours, entrancing you in a mesmerizing kiss as Sam began to push himself inside of you from behind.

You gasped into Colby's mouth, his teeth grazing your bottom lip as Sam pushed into you. You felt so full, your legs shaking as both boys held you up. Sam was rolling his bottom lip in between his teeth, slowly but surely pushing into you. "Doing so well for us," The blonde panted, the three of you becoming one. Your nails dug into Colby's arm, promising to leave marks afterwards. Both boys had bottomed out in both of your holes, something they had done many times before. "Please m-move," You sputtered, allowing your eyes to flutter shut as the pain and pleasure mixed together as they started to move their hips in unison. The three of you were all moaning messes as they picked up their paces. "Such a good girl, taking us so well," Sam praised, slithering his hand down to your clit. He began rubbing fast circles, the three of you desperate for a taste of euphoria. "So desperate for us, fucking hell," Colby groaned, watching your cunt hungrily take his cock with each thrust. You felt full to the maximum extent, your thighs trembling. You were sure if it weren't for their strong hands you would have fallen. They abused your holes as they pleased, your moans only becoming louder.

"I think she wants the maids to hear her, dirty girl," Colby snickered. Sam pinched your clit, causing you to cry out in confusion, pain, and pleasure. The boys chuckled, your vision seeing stars as they fucked you senseless. "Ah that did it Sam, I think she's gonna cum soon," The brunette continued, fucking up into your cunt. Your eyes fluttered open, the warm water creating small droplets in your eyelashes. "Am nottt," You slurred, the knot in your stomach tightening. They were always able to do this, without even trying. They knew your body so well it was hypnotizing. "Cumming already? Someone really is our personal slut," Sam chimed in. You wanted to argue more, but your body was giving in to their thrust. Their grip on you was steel like, their thrust merciless as they abused your holes. You couldn't even warn them of your orgasm, your body convulsing as you came around their cocks. Your vision was blinded with stars, your body becoming limp in their arms. Spots clouded your vision, your breath growing shallow as you were on the brim of passing out. Your heart worked overtime when you were sober, unable to keep up with extreme forms of euphoria without a substance to assist it.

You could hear the boys talking, their voices mumbled and incoherent as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. As your vision faded into darkness, a thought of getting clean crossed your mind.

"Pretty princess?"

You blinked as you snapped out of your day dreaming state, recalling the events of a couple of months ago. You turned to Sam, who was holding up a silver platter with your favorite white dust decorating it.

"Want a bump?"

You nodded as he handed you a rolled up hundred dollar bill, holding his own to his nose. You watched him snort the line, your veins coursing with excitement. Maybe you'd become sober one day, but not anytime soon. Besides, what super rich kid doesn't live life this way. There's nothing else to make one feel so alive, right?

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Minecraft Part 2

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

Alien: *Observes ruined remains of once proud city Alien: What happened? Human: There was a spider and in my attempts to kill it things got out of hand. Alien: How does trying to kill a spider destroy your whole city? Human: I tried using fire. Alien: How much fire? Human: *Points to several dozen lava buckets used* Human: I want to say all the fire. ---------------------

Alien: Am I meeting you at your base? Human: Nah, I lost that one so I had to build a new one. Alien: Wait, how did you lose it? Human: Turns out piglin’s can walk through the ender portal into the above world. Alien: So? Alien: It’s not a problem if you- Alien: …….. Alien: wait, you didn’t seal off your portal room? Human: I did not. -------------------------

Alien: *walking through dying npc village* Alien: Wasn’t this place thriving last time we were here? Human: Yeah; probably fell apart when I diverted the river. Alien: You what?! Human: I didn’t like how it looked so I blocked it off and shifted it in a different direction. Alien: What gives you the right to destroy this innocent town? Human: Innocent? Human: Have you seen their trading rates? Human: Why would I pay 15 emeralds for an iron pickaxe? -----------------------

Alien: Why are you hiding? Human: I am being hunted by the deadliest creature in the game. Alien: *Intrigued* What is that? Human: *Points at looming shadow* There…. *Shadow takes shape and reveals itself to be a frog* Alien: Seriously? Frog: Ribbit. *Frog opens its mouth and shoots out to alien* *Tongue latches on to alien and eat him* Human: They never listen…… --------------------------

Alien: What the hell is this? Human: It’s my home. Alien: It’s made of dirt. Human: So? Alien: Why in the sixteen hells would you make your house out of dirt? Human: I mean, it’s everywhere. Alien: So are fraking trees! -----------------------------

Human: BEHOLD! Human: A TOWN MADE OUT OF IRON! Alien: Seems like a waste of iron. Alien: Why did you make this? Human: Because I wanted to make the golems protecting the town have an existential crisis as they ponder the question “Are we made out of the town, or is the town made out of us?” Alien: By the gods you should not be left alone with your thoughts for long. ------------------------------

Alien: *Finishes building village in middle of a lake* Alien: Finally! Alien: No mobs will be able to make it across the water to reach them! Human: Um…. Human: You do know about the underwater zombies, right? Alien: I’m sorry, the what? *Trident goes flying past head as swarms of underwater zombies emerge* -----------------------------

Alien: Why did you spend three weeks rearranging the landscape? Human: So I can go on long walks through it. Alien: That’s it? Alien: How can that possibly be worth the effort? Human: Join me and see. *Pair proceed to walk down a long intricate pathway with different color trees, rivers and waterfalls, mountain ranges and rolling hills* Alien: Damn. Alien: That was peaceful. Human: I know, right? -----------------------------

Alien: What are you doing? Human: Trading with the piglins. Alien: Why? Human: It’s fascinating watching them when you throw gold at them. Alien: Didn’t they destroy your city my swarming through the open ender portal? Human: Yes. Alien: And you’ve forgiven them for that? Human: Oh no. Human: I plan on sealing up their home area later on and then pouring buckets of lava into it from the highest places and watching them run, scream, and beg for their lives before the all-consuming flames devour their flesh. Human: But right now I find them amusing so I think I’ll pause on that plan for a day or two. Alien: ……………….. Alien: What your gods must think of you when they see such casual malice. Human: They learned long ago to leave us be. For we have learned that they topple just as easily as their temples, and their names cast to the sands of time beneath our feet.

[tj-dragonblade]

[FIC] Chaos and Calm

Fandom: The Sandman Pairing: Dreamling Rated: G Word Count: 1551 Tags: fluff, domesticity, single dads, pre-relationship, outings in the park, feeding the ducks, rain

Notes: For Day 1 of Dreamling Week 2024 as organized by @mr-sadman, for the prompt 'hunt'. Also dedicated to the wonderful @chaosheadspace, whose single-dads AU Castle in the Sand rotates in the back of my head quite often - I meant to have this coincide with your birthday but didn't quite make it, alas.

Summary: Searching for rain boots and meeting friends in the park. No real plot, just meandering domestic parenting vibes.

On AO3

"Robyn! You 'bout ready, kiddo?"

Hob winces at the sound of something heavy thudding on the floor above, and then his son appears at the top of the stairs. "I can't find my boots!"

Hob suppresses the urge to sigh. "Do you remember where you had them last?"

Robyn's brow furrows. "Maybe? They might be in the cupboard? But I think I might have used 'em as astronaut boots and forgot to put 'em back."

"Did you check by the washing machine?"

"Not yet."

"Okay. You keep looking in your room; I'll check down here and then come help you look if I don't find them."

"'Kay." Robyn scrambles back up from where he'd started down the stairs and dashes back to his room, and Hob heads to check the coat cupboard in the front hallway.

They're meant to be meeting Dream and Orpheus at the park in fifteen minutes. The day has turned out to be dreary and grey, light rain off and on keeping it misty and damp and a raincoat plus wellies are definitely called for.

If only he or his son could be relied upon to consistently put things back in their expected places. Ellie had always scolded them about it, gently, and for all the years since she's been gone Hob has kept trying to do better, but it's not always top of his mind and they're both surviving okay, despite the current inconvenience.

He checks the bottom of the coat cupboard; no boots.

He lets the sigh out this time, since Robyn's not there to see the frustration. He checks the utility room next, where last year's too-small snow boots are still sitting next to this year's because Hob hasn't gotten round to dropping them off at the charity shop yet. This year's snow boots will have to do if they can't find the wellies, but he's not giving up yet.

He's not going to tear the house apart looking, either, though; he's eager to get going. Letting Robyn spend time with his best friend is important, but also. Hob really looks forward to seeing Dream, for—well. For lots of reasons, that he's comfortably aware of but cautious about acting on because the kids would be caught in the middle if it didn't work out and that's the last thing he wants. Right now he just wants to let himself enjoy the possibilities. Hanging out, conversations while the kids play, watching Dream's pretty face go soft and expressive as they talk.

So. Best check all the likely spots in this comfortably-cluttered chaos he lives in, then, so they can find the boots and get going. It would certainly be easier if his home was less messy, but he's a single dad with a very active kid, he teaches secondary school, and taking the time to make his home look like a magazine spread is just not on his agenda. And sure sometimes it bites him in the arse, like now, but most times the chaos is of a manageable level and more importantly, it works for them.

Just. Not today, apparently.

He pulls his phone from his pocket, fires off a quick text to Dream.

May be a few minutes late We've a crisis of missing wellies over here Keep you posted

Dream's response comes through almost instantly.

I wish you luck in your hunt, then. We will wait.

Hob smiles, tucks the phone back in his pocket and heads up the stairs to join the search.

Robyn's room is a little bit of a disaster zone, as he's been throwing things around in his haste, and Hob kneels to crawl around the floor and help him look. He'll help him straighten up later, too, but for now they're boot-hunting.

Robyn is a little worried, as it turns out. "What if Orpheus and his dad leave before we get there? What if they think we're not coming because I can't find my stupid boots?"

Hob laughs, a small laugh full of kindness. "They wouldn't," he assures, pulling his kid into a one-armed hug as they sit on the floor. "And besides—I texted Orpheus's dad so they know we're running late." He drops a kiss in Robyn's hair. "Now let's find those blasted wellies so we can get going, yeah?"

The boots are not under the bed, or the desk in the corner; they're not in the toy chest, nor the basket for Robyn's dirty laundry, nor under the laundry that hasn't quite made it into the basket. Hob helps that last category get to where it was meant to be and sits back with a sigh, making a mental note—and hopefully he'll remember later—to be sure to run a load of Robyn's clothes.

"Alright, kiddo, is there anywhere you haven't looked yet?"

Robyn ponders for a moment, face scrunched in thought, and then lights up. "Oh!" He scrambles off the floor and over to the wardrobe, yanks it open. Hob would have thought that would be the first place to check, so he hadn't looked himself but obviously he should have, because Robyn dives into it with a little yell of victory and emerges with a boot held high in either hand and triumph radiating from his grin.

~ They're only a little bit late to the park; Robyn and Orpheus spot each other at the same instant and yell in excited unison, charging across the wet grass and crashing into a hug that also involves a lot of jumping up and down. Hob grins at their enthusiasm, eyes searching beyond them to find Dream looking for him as well; the smile that blooms on Dream's face, visible even at this distance, makes Hob's heart do a pleasant little flop in his chest.

"Your hunt was successful, I see," Dream says, when they are close enough for speaking; they are trailing after the boys, who are cavorting in the general direction of the duck pond, splashing in collected puddles on the path. Dream's got his umbrella up, even though it's not raining right this moment, which somehow just enhances his general goth vibe.

Hob stuffs his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, time to do a major cleaning. His room's a bit of a mess but we finally found his wellies in the wardrobe. Which honestly would have been the first place I checked if I'd realized he hadn't. Kid brains work on different logic, I suppose."

"True." Dream shifts a little, casts a glance sideways at Hob. "Robyn is fortunate to have a father so skilled at finding lost items."

"Got a lot of experience misplacing my own crap," Hob offers, laughing to cover the flustery warmth seeping into his chest at Dream's simple compliment. "And he found the boots himself, just needed some help thinking it through."

"As I said. He is fortunate to have your guidance," Dream reiterates, and Hob is saved from having to respond when Robyn comes running back to where the two of them have stopped at the path's edge. Orpheus is over by the pond, bending down to peer between the rails of the short wooden fence that surrounds it as several ducks swim toward him.

"Dad! Did you bring the peas? The ducks're hungry!" There's eager excitement in Robyn's voice and Hob smiles.

"'Course I did, kiddo, here." He rummages in the bag at his hip, slung comfortably across his chest, and hands over the snack-size freezer bag of peas; Robyn thanks him and dashes back over to Orpheus. Whether or not the ducks are 'hungry' is arguable, but Hob won't deny his kid the human joy of personifying the world around him nor of feeding the ducks, which is generally their purpose in coming to this park. He glances sideways at Dream—who is Hob's own private secondary reason for any of the activities they do together with their kids—and finds him watching the boys with the softest little smile crinkling the corners of his eyes.

He's so beautiful.

It starts raining, then, just a light misty sprinkle. The boys put up the hoods on their raincoats and carry on tossing peas to the eager birds who've gathered for the feast; Hob is about to dig his own umbrella out of his bag but Dream steps closer and shifts his own broad umbrella over Hob as well. His arm presses up against Hob's, from shoulder to elbow, and Hob swallows the urge to lift his arm and put it around Dream's shoulders, leans solidly into the touch instead. It's nice.

It's so, so nice, and Hob revels in the imagined warmth he can feel seeping into the contact despite the layers between them, the way that seconds turn to minutes and neither of them moves away, how they both watch their boys in comfortable silence. Hob's thoughts and emotions often feel chaotic and jumbled up in the same way his house manages to be a mild-but-functional disaster zone but this—sharing an everyday domestic moment with Dream, the casual unremarked closeness between them—it quiets something in his head, makes anything and everything seem gloriously possible.

This, this is a feeling worth finding, a feeling he did not even realize he was searching for.

He is still entirely grateful to have found it.

= Started: 6/2/24 Drafted: 6/3/24 Posted: 6/3/24

[corroded-hellfire]

i love as you wish more than words can describe! and luke and ryan!! such sweet babies! i can't stop thinking about eddie and reader having their first fight (other than the conflict around the divorce n stuff) after things have gotten settled and the boys getting worried and scared they're going to break up just like mommy and daddy 🥺 xoxo

I’m so glad that you enjoy the series! @munson-blurbs and I had fun writing it—as we always do when we write together. I hope you like what we’ve come up with 🩵

Words: 1.2k

[As You Wish masterlist]

“Babe?” you call out from the bedroom. You’ve searched your closet up and down, but you can’t find the dress you’re supposed to wear. There’s no answer so you repeat yourself a bit louder. “Babe?!”

“Ya,” Eddie says, not bothering to mute the living room TV. He has Ryan on one side of him and Luke on the other; the three of them are engrossed in an episode of SpongeBob SquarePants. 

You sigh impatiently, resting your hands on your hips. “Where did you put my dress?”

“Huh?” Eddie answers absently. You can hear SpongeBob’s obnoxious laughter echoing through the apartment, which only irritates you further. “What dress?”

Throwing a robe on, you angrily march out to him. “The dress you picked up from the dry cleaners.” You watch as his eyes widen, and his gaze drops to the ground. “Eddie, you did pick up my dress from the dry cleaners, right?”

Eddie scrambles to his feet, slipping into his sneakers and grabbing his keys. “Shit, I’ll go get it right now.”

“It’s Sunday,” you mutter through gritted teeth, determined to keep your cool in front of the kids. “They’re closed on Sundays. That’s why I asked you to pick it up yesterday.”

“Sorry, baby,” he shrugs, “but you have a bunch of others, yeah? You can wear one of those.” He slides off his shoes and plops back onto the couch. “Crisis averted.”

Fuming, you grab the remote from the coffee table and press the power button, watching the colorful backdrop of Bikini Bottom fade to black. Ignoring Luke and Ryan’s disappointed groans, you turn to your boyfriend, lips pressed into a tight line. “Can I talk to you for a sec?” When he continues sitting there, a blank stare on his face, you elaborate. “In the room, please?”

It finally clicks in Eddie’s mind that you’re upset, and he slowly rises from the couch. The two of you are watching one another so you miss the look that the boys share on the couch. You turn around and stalk back into the bedroom. Eddie’s right on your heels and closes the door behind you. 

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” Eddie says. “I forgot to swing by yesterday, but what’s the big deal? Why can’t you just find something else to wear?”

“That’s not the point, Eddie,” you say with a sigh. “I asked you specifically to pick this dress up for me and you didn’t.”

“Babe, it wasn’t intentional, I forgot.” He walks over and sits on the foot of the bed. 

“How does that make it any better?” you ask, voice rising. “When you ask me to do something, I do it. How am I supposed to feel when you forget about me?”

“Oh, come on,” Eddie says with a harsh bark of laughter. “I didn’t forget about you. I forgot to stop at the dry cleaners. While I was out running a million other different errands.”

“A million?” you snap. “You went to the grocery store and the bank! And the dry cleaners is next to the supermarket!”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie huffs, pushing himself off the bed. He stomps over to the closet and yanks it open. He dramatically gestures to all the other dresses you have hanging in there. “Are none of these suitable for you, Your Highness? In my humble opinion, any of these would be fine. Unless you think someone is going to show up to the church in a ball gown.”

“Maybe I won’t go at all then,” you harrumph, crossing your arms over your chest in defiance. It’s childish and petty, but you’re too annoyed to care. 

“Yeah, okay,” Eddie rolls his eyes. “I’ll make sure to tell Theo that you missed his first communion because you had a wardrobe emergency.” He pronounces the last two words in a nasal, high-pitched tone. 

“Go right ahead and—” you start to retort, but you’re cut off by the sound of mumbling outside the door. 

“—get divorced?” You hear Luke’s tiny voice, laced with worry. 

“They have to be married to get divorced,” Ryan’s telling him. “They’re just gonna break up.”

“Shit,” Eddie breathes out, raking his fingers through his hair. “Didn’t know they were listening.” He opens the door and gives them a sheepish look. “Guys? You okay?”

“Please don’t break up!” Luke cries out, flinging himself into his dad’s legs. When he pulls back, you can see that his eyes are misty with the prospect of tears. 

Ryan, as usual, is a bit more reserved than his brother, but you can tell that he’s nervous, too. His silence speaks volumes as he looks at you through his long lashes. 

“Hey, hey,” Eddie murmurs, crouching down so he’s closer to their level. “No one’s breaking up, okay?”

“Then why were you fighting?” Luke asks, wiping at his cheeks. “You and Mom used to fight an’ then you got divorced.”

You sit on the ground, tucking your legs under you. “Sometimes, grown-ups fight. Even when they love each other. But it doesn’t mean they’ll break up.”

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees. “And we love each other very, very much. Almost as much as we love you two little eavesdroppers.” This elicits a giggle from Luke and a smile from Ryan. 

“How do you know if it’s a ‘love’ fight or a ‘break up’ fight?” the older boy pipes up. 

“Well, when you love someone, you can get frustrated with them or upset with them,” you explain, “but you take time to cool off so you can talk it out calmly later. That’s the difference; with a break up fight, you don’t wanna work it out.”

“Do you wanna work it out?” Ryan asks softly. 

You nod. “Of course. We’re not going to break up over a silly mistake.” You watch as he visibly relaxes, and you turn towards Eddie. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. And I didn’t have to be so dramatic about the whole thing, either.” You’re cringing internally just thinking about your empty threat not to go to the communion. 

“I’m sorry, too.” He takes your hand in his, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. “I said I would do you a favor and I didn’t do it. I’d be mad, too.” He offers you a small smile. “Can we kiss and make up?”

“Eww!” Luke scrunches his nose and sticks out his tongue. “Daddy, you’re gonna get cooties!”

Eddie laughs, ruffling his son’s hair. “Nah, don’t worry about it. I got my cooties shot.” He leans in and kisses you with an exaggerated mwah! “Oh, no!” he says suddenly, shaking all of his limbs as though they’re moving uncontrollably. “The shot must’ve worn off. I’ve…I’ve been cootified!”

Ryan and Luke run away from him as he makes grabby hands, chasing them around the apartment. When the boys run by you, you block their path and hold them captive. “I’ve got ‘em!” you proudly announce. “I’ve kidnapped the fresh meat, King Cootie.”

Eddie bows in front of you, where his sons are wriggling in your grasp. “Excellent teamwork, my Queen.” He reaches out and tickles them until they’re complaining that they can’t breathe. 

“Okay, Cootie Family; let’s get ready,” he says. “Boys, nice clothes, please. Ryan, please make sure your brother isn’t wearing anything with a cartoon on it.”

Everyone goes to their rooms to get dressed, and Eddie sneaks up behind you, snaking his arms around your waist. “Seeing as you’ve already infected me with your cooties, can I have another kiss?” he mumbles into your ear. 

“I think that can be arranged, you nasty cootie monster,” you tease. 

“That’s King Cootie Monster to you.”

[whxre-bxby]

May I request mansk smut. I barely see anyone write for him and he just needs some love 😭😭. Just some sweet love making for him and the reader 💕

YES MISS GURL HERE WE GO BITCHES

"Late Night Feels"

Mansk (recom/Na’vi) x Y/N (recom/Na’vi f.)

Summary: During a game night with a few recoms, you can’t help but notice Mansk’s lingering eyes. When you confront him about it he gets shy before confessing and the man is whipped. After his heartfelt confession, you can’t keep your composure anymore and you both go to his room.

WARNINGS: SMUT, Fluff (so freakin cute), swear words, praise-kink (Mansk), f. Oral receiving, penetration, Mansk whimpering (yesss), breeding kink, mating

Masterlist

Word count: 9421

The recom team had built many new routines since being brought back to life on Pandora. One of them started when neither of us could fall asleep because our bodies felt so foreign to us. We were able to play it off during the day in front of everyone, but once we were left alone, most of us couldn’t stand it. 

I was having a second life crisis, almost breaking down in front of my mirror. To calm down, I needed to leave the confined space that was meant to serve as a room. 

I ended up in the cafeteria/kitchen for the recoms, holding a glass of water and staring into nothingness. 

Mansk was the first to enter the kitchen after me. My presence startled him a little but we were both so out of it I didn’t even notice anyone walk in. He also got himself a glass of water and that was when Lyle walked in. Following him came Zdinarsk and then Ja. That was the group. The others seemed to have fallen asleep normally. 

We cleared the air by agreeing that we were extremely uncomfortable, but no one wanted to talk about it including me. So instead of talking, Lyle suggested we play cards to get our minds off of things. No one had anything better to do, so we agreed. 

That’s how the routine of a weekly game night started. Every Thursday, we would meet after curfew in the diner by the kitchen and play cards around a table. It lightened the mood and definitely helped. 

Today was a Thursday. The lights had all been turned off and everyone had gone to their rooms. The only people awake were the human soldiers assigned night watch and they were on the other side of the facility. 

I smiled, feeling a little calmer now that I knew I could go play cards and not have to sleep. 

As usual, I walked through the empty corridors and into the cafeteria. Ja and Mansk were already there and were currently pushing the tables together. I greeted them, getting the stack of cards from beneath the counter and grabbing a chair to sit by the table. Within a few minutes, Lyle and Z-Dog had arrived. 

Now, we were all sitting in a circle, with one light on in the corner as we played. The game had been going on for about an hour and we were still having fun. I was getting slightly tired and Ja had yawned next to me so I wasn’t the only one. 

“How ‘bout one last round and then we call it a night?” Ja suggested, taking everyone’s cards and shuffling them.

“Hopefully Lyle won’t lose again.” Z teases and I chuckle, taking a sip from my glass. Mansk smiles to himself before staring down at his hands. He’s sitting opposite me. 

“No need to worry. I’m feelin’ this round. It’s my time now, people.” Lyle assures with a grin, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. 

“Whatever you say.” Ja returns the grin, passing out a new round of cards to everyone again. 

We played and guess what? Lyle did in fact not win. Nor did he even get anywhere close to it. 

I placed my cards in the middle with a smile, showing that I won. All the others had gotten rid of their cards already and it was just Lyle and me. Lyle was still holding at least seven. 

He huffed, throwing his cards to the middle in defeat. 

“You guys are cheatin’. Ja’s shufflin’ it wrong.” Lyle argues and I bite my lip to contain laughter. Ja looks almost offended. 

“That’s 5 losses in a row.” Mansk says and I nod, while my grin widens. Z-Dog is pressing her fist over her mouth to cover her smile but Lyle sees us. 

“Okay, quit laughin'. I’ll beat you both now.” Lyle adds, taking his new set of cards and looking at them. 

“How about we play until Lyle doesn’t lose?” I suggest and Z laughs while Lyle huffs in annoyance. 

“Sounds good.” Ja adds, leaning back on his chair. 

“Okay, then this is the last round.” Lyle states, building up a confident attitude to beat the game. Mansk looks up at me and we exchange looks, questioning Lyle’s words but we suppress laughter to not upset him. 

I think you know what’s coming. 

Let me ease your mind and inform you, that that was indeed not the last round we played. 

The game went on for another good 30-40 minutes, with Lyle refusing to speak after each loss of a round. Ja would quietly shuffle while we exchanged mocking looks. Lyle wasn’t having it. 

Finally, Lyle hadn’t won first but had not lost.

The rounds before where he lost would have been a little boring if it wouldn’t have been for one person in particular.

Sitting across from me were lingering eyes belonging to Mansk. He wasn’t wearing his signature shades and I caught him looking at me a few times. The looks were harmless and innocent, yet I felt like there was more to them. 

I wondered what had caught his eye because I was definitely not wearing anything impressive. I had a loose and oversized t-shirt on, which I slept in and some comfortable shorts that had pockets which I loved. 

I wasn’t wearing a bra and my hair was messy. It wasn’t the first time I hadn’t worn a bra around them. Z also wasn’t because we were about to head to bed anyway. Except for today, my shirt was grey and not black so I guess my chest was more visible. But he wasn’t the type of guy to rudely stare so I don’t think that was it.

Anyway, Z-Dog was holding the last cards and thereby lost while Lyle celebrated in her face. She was annoyed she lost to him and said goodnight before walking off. I was smiling to myself as he followed her down the hallway, repeating how easy it was to beat her and how she made a mistake. As if he hadn’t lost the last 10 rounds in a game he most likely made up and even suggested in the first place. 

Ja yawned again, rolling his shoulders and finishing his water before walking towards the hallway. 

“See you tomorrow guys. Was fun with you.” he said and I smiled. 

“Good night.” 

With that Ja left while I still sat at the table with Mansk. I finished my water while he put the deck of cards back into their box. 

Seeing all the empty glasses around the table I sighed and pushed my chair back. Getting up, I collected the glasses and carried them to the sink, leaving Mansk behind at the table.

Of course, Lyle had been drinking some sweet juice and not water so his glass had stained red. I turned on the tap and started washing up.

Behind me, Mansk had noticed my actions and wanted to help out. He returned the chairs to their original spots and pulled the tables back apart before slowly walking to me. 

He stopped, observing you from a small distance. He had been trying to not get caught up in his thoughts while playing but it was difficult with you looking this good to him. He knew you wouldn’t understand if he told you, but he loved how you looked right now. To be honest, he always liked the way you looked but right now, it was the best he’s seen yet. 

The way the huge t-shirt draped from your smaller figure almost covering your shorts and riding up slightly there where your tail was had him mesmerised. Your loose and let down hair which was finally for once not restricted and pulled back in a ponytail or any other hairdo you did with your braid and hair made him unable to stop staring. 

You looked so comfortable and real to him. In military uniform and during training, he found you intimidating and would choose to not approach you. Now, you looked like you had finally let your guard down and were more welcoming to him. That's why he looked forward to game nights. He looked forward to seeing you as you were. Not the tough girl that sometimes even scared him. Don’t get him wrong, he always thought you looked hot, even when training or fighting. But he felt as though he could not talk to you then. Now, with the others around and during games, it was easier and you seemed nicer. 

I felt his presence behind me and I brushed it off for a good 10 seconds until it started distracting me from washing up properly. 

Glancing behind me, I see Mansk comfortably standing and watching me. When he sees me turn my head around, he quickly turns away and places the stack of cards back underneath the counter that I got them from. 

I return my gaze to the cups and smile to myself, loving the effect I had on him. It was a surprise when I noticed how Mansk would get intimidated by me, but I decided to have some fun with him. 

Luckily, he didn’t walk away. Mansk walked up next to me, picking up a glass and helping me wash up. 

“Oh it’s okay, I had that.” I say, not wanting him to feel pressured into helping me. A small and faint smile stretches across his face. 

“I’m not gonna just leave you here to clean up after everyone.” he replied, his voice a little hoarse but nevertheless soft and kind. 

“How about just watching me instead, huh?” I tease him, grinning and nudging his side with my hip while my tail flicks in his direction. In contrast, his tail stops comfortably swaying and his ears lean back a little. 

I notice his tenseness and look up at him, the grin turning into a smile. 

He’s blushing, but I won’t point it out just yet. There’s more I can do.

I finish washing the cups and Lyle’s sticky glass, placing them on the bottom of the sink. Mansk is still rubbing away at his glass like he was a few minutes ago. 

“I think it’s clean.” I speak up, seeming to pull him out of his thoughts. He opens his mouth to say something but I’m already pulling the glass from his grasp and placing it to the others. Mansk doesn’t stop me. 

“Can you pass me the towel?” I ask and he glances at me, his ears perking before looking to his side. It seems to take him a while to process what I said, so I nudge him a little. 

“Please?” I give him innocent doe eyes and his ears perk forward even more, his eyes staring down into my own. 

“Y- yeah, sure.” he replies, trying to pull himself together and he hands me the towel. 

“Thanks.” I say, taking a glass and drying it. With the second glass I take out, I turn around, with my back facing the sink while I lean against it and stare into the open and dark cafeteria. 

Mansk reaches for another towel, takes a glass and continues helping me dry them in silence.

“If Lyle doesn’t start winning, we’re gonna have to come up with a new game.” I chuckle, trying to ease the atmosphere for him because I could tell he felt awkward even though he was quite good at hiding it. 

“Yeah.” Mansk smirks, dropping his head a little and chuckling. “Ja knows a few. It won’t get boring.”

“It wouldn’t get boring anyway.” I say, hinting at his previous lingering eyes. He doesn’t quite catch up, or maybe he does and he tries to avoid that conversation. 

“It wouldn’t? With Lyle always losin’?” he asks, glancing at me. I smirk, putting the previous glass away and grabbing a new one. 

“Nah. You kept it interesting.” 

I can see from the corner of my eye how his tail stills again and his body tenses. Our body language is much clearer now as Na’vi and he has become easy for me to read.

He doesn’t reply but I hear him swallow. 

“Was there something on my shirt?” I ask, continuing to push it, knowing damn well my shirt had little to do with his staring. I wanted to fluster him and have him stutter until he was forced to confess everything. 

“Uh- no. No your shirts fine.” he starts to talk, stumbling over his words. His voice is unsure and he doesn’t seem to know what to say. “I, uhm-” 

Even through his deep voice, one could still tell he was nervous. I loved it. 

Mansk also always spoke clearly and used minimal words. To have him fucking stutter is amazing.

“Oh shit, is it see-through?” I gasp, pretending to panic and he does too. 

“No- No no it’s not.” he says, turning to me and I bite my lip, giggling. 

He realises I’m messing with him and turns back to face the room in silence. Yep, he’s embarrassed. 

“I’m sorry, I just find it funny that I can tease you.” I say, unable to hide my grin. He smiles but his ears are strained back. A nervous smile perhaps?

I press myself against his side, knowing the initiated body contact will frustrate him. 

“You need to loosen up, Mansk.” I say, all innocent again while I caress his leg with my tail. He doesn’t move, he just stays still. I can hear how quickly his heart is beating, even through his unsteady breaths. 

“Aw, come on. What is it?” I say, playing stupid and nudging his side. “You don’t like me? I can leave if you want?” 

He scoffs a little. Not in a rude way, but to himself. 

“Of course I like you, it’s not that.” he speaks and I smile again, putting the cup down and facing him. 

“What is it then?” 

A minute of silence passes before he speaks up again. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” he says, but clearly he is suppressing something. 

“Do I make you nervous?” I ask, looking up at him and his eyes shoot to me, hinting at panic. Bingo. 

“Is it because I’m not wearing a bra? Was that why you were looking earlier?” I tease, knowing it's not the reason. 

He grimaced at the thought of you thinking he was looking at you only because your chest wasn’t covered with a double layer like usual. Mansk was admiring all of you before and would never want you to think of him rudely checking you out. 

“No.” he states, almost whispering. His voice got caught in his throat. 

“No? You don’t like my chest?” I ask, faking those wide innocent eyes again. His gaze returns to me and he opens his mouth to answer but no words come out. I watch his adam's apple bob as he swallows nervously and there I have my answer. His response makes me grin and he knows he fucked up. 

“I wasn’t lookin’ because of that.” Mansk says, seeming almost irritated. I don’t say anything, I only glance at him again, waiting for him to elaborate. 

He’s looking down but my silence makes him glance back at me too. He had to keep talking now. 

“I just- think… you know. You look nice.” he says, his voice fading into a mumble. His words take me by slight surprise. 

“I look nice?” I ask, chuckling a little. A small wave of panic flows through me when I realise my reaction might discourage him but luckily it doesn’t. 

“Yeah. You look comfortable. It’s beautiful.” he pushes the words out and they electrify my heart, sending waves through my body that kill all the tiredness. 

“Fuck, now you’re making me feel special.” I giggle, clutching my face in my hands and letting them slide down. The next time I look up, he is already looking at me again. 

“Tell me more,” I beg him, wanting to hear everything that’s on his mind. 

He looks surprised. As if he were expecting me to walk away after he said that. Mansk listens. 

“You don’t look as… badass, like you do when training.” he says and my own ears perk up. What does that mean? 

I questionably look up at him, wondering whether this was becoming insulting or cute. 

“Which I don’t mind.” he saves it, quickly. “You look amazing when you train. Fuck. But I’d never be able to talk to you like this.” Mansk seems to be forgetting he’s confessing his deepest secret and is focusing on making sure I understand without feeling uncomfortable. 

“You think I look good?” I ask, staring deeply into the empty room. 

“More than just good. Fuckin’ angel.” he mumbles, looking like he wants to retreat into himself because he’s said too much. He looks down, slightly turned away from me. 

“God, you’re making this hard for me.” I chuckle and he glances back at me, confused. Mansk looks worried as if he made a mistake. 

“I wanted to tease you more but now you have me fucking blushing.” I say and his ears perk all the way up. His worry fades when he realises that I am indeed blushing. And his eyes widen and almost sparkle when he reminds himself that it's because of him. 

“You look even prettier.” he mumbles. 

“Stop. This is not how the tables were meant to turn.” I talk over him, making him smile. 

“Hm.” Mansk mumbles, putting the things down and turning away to leave.

“Where are you going?” I ask, wondering why the conversation was ending at the best part. 

“It’s late, I thought you wanted to go sleep early today?” he answers, stopping in his steps and turning around. 

Does he really think I’ve been playing with him just for kicks this whole time?

“Late my ass. I’m not done with you.” I say. He had put the towels back and just stared at me with curious wide eyes. His lips were slightly parted too. This was the cutest and most attractive man ever. 

“You think I tease you for no reason?” I ask, quickly putting the glass down and grabbing his hand. He lets me lead him away from the sink and out of the room. Even though he’s much taller and could easily resist, he lets me pull him away.

“Where are you goin’?” he asks, seeming a little hesitant. More confused and self-conscious. He didn’t know whether he had done something wrong and if he had he would never forgive himself. 

I curse. “Of course, they put the women’s rooms on the other side of the fucking facility.” 

Mansk watches my every move intently. In the back of his mind, he can imagine what the best-case scenario would be but he knows that there is no way that will happen so he doesn’t question it. 

“Where’s your room?” I ask and he looks at me as if he’s seen a ghost. 

“What?” 

“You heard me. Come on.” I say, smiling at his shocked face. “Unless you don’t want this. Then I can go.”

Mansk can’t believe his ears. Want this? The man has needed this for the past month or two. But he doesn’t want to be the one to bring it up in case you aren’t thinking of the same thing. He treasures the talks he has with you and he would never risk losing that. 

“Don’t want what?” he asks. 

“Mansk, I need you. Right now. If you want to fuck, tell me where your room is and let’s do something about it.”

He gulps, his eyes just staring at me as his mind goes blank. That was it, Mansk was blown away and officially couldn’t believe the events unfolding before him. 

“Hm?” I ask, spurring him on because I was getting a little more desperate than I wanted to be. 

“207…” he whispers. Realising his voice is gone he clears his throat and tries to keep himself composed. 

I nod, turning around and walking us there. Luckily it was close, much closer than my room. We arrive at his door and I stand there, looking at him to unlock it but Mansk is once again just gazing at me. 

“Keys.” I say, becoming impatient. Every time I looked at him I felt my body become hotter. 

“Really?” he slowly asks, his ears perking forward, giving me all his attention. 

“Really what?” I ask, trying to figure out what he’s going on about. 

“You want me?” His voice is so soft and the way he unsurely says it melts me. It seems as though he is still a little worried I’m messing with him again and that his feelings will be hurt. This huge bulky man in front of me suddenly seems like this tiny, fragile, cuddly bear. His hand is resting in the pocket of his sweats as his slightly slumping posture no longer shines the intimidating energy it does when he wears his uniform and shades. 

“Mansk, you are the reason I go to those goddamn game nights.” I start explaining, catching on to him feeling unsure about himself. He needs reassurance and I get that. A year ago I would have too. 

“You think I’d be going just to see Lyle lose his shit every time. I mean it can be nice but you make it better.”

His face lights up and the doubt is slowly being washed away.  The man can’t believe what he’s hearing. He lifts his dropped head to meet my eyes.

“You happen to also look absolutely fucking amazing and this new tank top you’re wearing is really doing it for me. So if you would kindly open this door-” 

I’m cut off by Mansk hastily getting his keys from the pocket of his sweats, which have to my delight started to strain and swiftly unlocking the door. He effortlessly pushes it wide open and extends his hand out to let me go inside first. 

“Thank you.” I whisper but it's barely audible.

The little gesture makes my heart flutter and I step inside. He walks in after me, flicking the light on and kicking the door closed. 

I quickly scan the room before turning back around to face him. He’s thrown his keys onto his nightstand and his eyes met mine. Again, Mansk didn’t want to be pushy and initiate the contact in case I had changed my mind. But god, had he been longing for your touch for so long. 

I sighed, knowing I was down bad for him. My no romance in the workplace rule was long gone right now. 

I take a step towards him so that he is closer to me. He is still a head taller so he peers down as I extend my arm and cup his cheek to pull him down to me. 

“Kiss me.” I whisper. The words make Mansk think he’s in heaven. 

Mansk more than happily obliges, shivering from excitement at the touch of you on his cheek. Our lips are just inches apart as we share breaths for a few seconds before both of us can’t stand it and our lips finally meet.

I relish in the moment while Mansk’s mind is getting blurry from the wonderland he is in. 

The kiss deepens and I wrap my arms around his neck. Finally, he feels more confident and one of his hands holds the back of my head, right under my braid, while the other slides down my waist. 

I notice how he keeps it on my waist and my waist only, not sliding down below my hips. His respect and politeness amaze me and I add it to the list of things I love about him, but right now it needs to change.

I slide my palm up his arm, gently holding his hand before pushing it down further. 

Mansk’s ears perk up and he inhales shakily through his nose when I put his hand down on my ass. 

I pull away while doing this to see his reaction and make sure I’m not overstepping any boundaries. His wide eyes meet mine again and I watch how his pupils expand the longer he looks at me. 

I give him a small smile, to reassure him but also because I couldn’t hold him back. I felt so happy being around him and that he liked me this way made me want to scream and jump around. 

His large hands on me made me feel safe. Even though I knew I was capable of protecting myself, this felt nice. Better than nice in fact. I was in heaven too. 

“You’re so beautiful…” he whispered, his eyes flickering between mine slowly. My own eyes widened at his comment and my breath got caught in my chest. He really meant it, I could see that he did. I’ve never felt this appreciated and it made me feel a little emotional in fact. I wanted to return the feeling to him and make him feel as good as possible because I started to realise that he meant so much to me. 

Without further hesitation, I slowly leaned in again, letting my eyes flutter closed. Mansk watched me with heart eyes, closing his own eyes and drowning in euphoria from the feeling of our lips meeting once again. 

I press my body against his this time, wrapping my arms around his neck while one hand runs over the back of his head. In the process, I sway my hips forward and against his abdomen, feeling what I could only hope and anticipate was his erection. 

Mansk groaned into the kiss and I felt him shiver again. Seeing him be so responsive to my touch had me craving to hear more from him. 

I let one of my arms drift down from his neck and run along his strong shoulders. I was never able to identify my exact type but feeling his muscles really had an effect on me. His almost extreme strength was amazing to me and the fact that he rarely used it to its full extent made it that much better. 

I flatten my palm out while Mansk deepens the kiss, slipping his tongue past my lips. I gasp but push myself further into him, letting him know I loved it. Fuck, he really knew what he was doing. 

His one hand was still gently resting on my ass while the other pulled me further into him by my lower waist. Our tails flicked around behind us uncontrollably and subconsciously showing our excitement. Snitches. 

I ran my palm down his bulky chest, feeling his muscles and the texture of his tank top. I fumbled with his dog tag, wrapping my hand around it and bringing him down closer to me by gently pulling at it. 

He responded by holding my body even closer as if he never planned on letting go. 

I then let my hand drop and dipped my fingers underneath his top, feeling his warm and bare skin beneath. He sighed at the feeling and we pulled away, both almost gasping for air. 

I gripped the hem of my shirt and peeled it off, pulling it over my head. Mansk saw my movement and quickly followed, throwing his tank top to the side. 

When his eyes met me they changed from being half-lidded to opening wider again. It only now occurred to him that I was half-naked before him and he was clearly having a hard time not being polite. Mansk looked away and I could see how nervous and worked up he was. 

I giggled, putting my own top over a chair in his room before taking a few steps to him again. He slowly looked at me, keeping his eyes firmly on my face and not letting his gaze falter. His expression makes me smile.

“You can look, you know?” I say softly, watching his ears twitch at my words. “I’m yours if you want me to be.” 

Mansk’s breath got caught in his throat and I saw how flushed he was, trying his best not to fold in front of me. Slowly, he let his eyes drift from my face to my lips, then my neck, bare collarbones and finally to my chest. 

His lips parted as he shakily exhaled and stared at me in awe. I never had anyone look at me like that before.

Another small sigh left his lips while he was still processing the fact that this was happening to him. You trusted him enough and wanted him enough to be in his room like this with him. 

I take a step towards him, my own gaze faltering as I admire his bare, sculpted torso. 

My hand raises and Mansk is brought out of his little dream by my touch. I rest my palm on his chest, slowly tracing it over the patterns on his skin and down his abs, to his v-line. 

I look up, redoing the same thing but this time feeling his shoulders too. 

“You’re so pretty…” I whisper, not thinking about my words. They just slip out. 

Mansk was speechless, watching your hand travel over his torso. You liked the way he looked? He knew he didn’t look bad, he just thought it was regular for the military and especially now for Na’vi. But you liked it. You liked him. It’s official now, the man is whipped for you.

I grin, loving his innocent and gentle reactions. 

Slowly, I apply pressure on his chest and push him backwards. Mansk takes a few steps in the direction I need him to and within seconds, the back of his knees hit the frame of his bed and he is forced to sit down. 

I stay standing in front of him and lean down to give him another kiss, before pulling away again. He leans forward, chasing my lips, not wanting to end the contact. 

A smile forms on my lips as I find his begging eyes once more. They shoot down to my hands and abdomen once he realises I’m pulling my shorts and panties down. 

Mansk inhales sharply as I step out of the last bits of clothing I have on and just watches me in admiration. I happen to also notice how almost painfully strained his sweatpants have become. 

“You look like an angel…” he softly says, his eyes scanning and taking all of me in. I scoff, unable to handle all the compliments. 

“I want to make you feel good.” I whisper, climbing onto him. Mansk smiles at my reaction and leans back a little to give me space. I sit on his lap with a leg on either side of his and wrap my arms loosely around his neck again. 

He keeps looking at me while having his hands firmly placed on the bed. 

“You can touch me too.” I grin, biting my lips and he lets out a soft chuckle, feeling a little embarrassed that he keeps getting caught staring. 

His hands gently caress my waist and thighs and one confidently moves down to my ass. 

He squeezes my cheek and I sigh, letting my eyes close for a split second. Knowing he’s getting a reaction from me, Mansk feels more confident to touch more of me. 

His right-hand pushes a few strands of hair over my shoulder and then slowly drifts down to my chest. He watches my reaction for any sign of discomfort but he doesn’t get it and soon he is caressing and massaging my breasts. I sigh again in pleasure, letting my head slightly fall forward, almost landing on his shoulder. 

Mansk can’t stop himself from melting into me and he pulls me closer, letting his head drop to the crook of my neck, gently kissing the skin while his hot breath sends butterflies to my stomach. 

I trace the muscles on his back with my hand while the other holds onto his shoulder. My tail caresses his leg while his own one repeatedly thuds against the mattress in happiness and excitement. 

As mentioned, Mansk is in heaven and he lets himself finally relax completely against me. 

His face leans down in between my breasts and both his hands wrap around my waist, hugging me and pulling my closer to him. I respond by cradling his head and holding him, feeling how my touch-starved state is finally being cured.

We just relish in each other's touch for a few minutes, our hands tracing up and down the other's body before I slowly pull away and support his head when he lifts it up. My palm cradles his flushed cheek as we lock eyes again. 

“What do you want?” I ask him, wanting to give him whatever I can. “I’ll do it.” I say, and I see how his eyes light up. He must be thinking of something. 

“Just tell me and I can help you.” I whisper, kissing his cheek before moving down and gently biting his neck. 

Mansk whimpers when I nibble at the skin of his neck and it makes my stomach twist with more excitement. I hold his head again, peppering kisses to the area. 

I look up at him again and he takes another deep, shaky breath. 

“Please tell me. I want to make you feel good.” I say and it seems to affect him. 

Mansk is surprised by your words. He wanted to worship your body and here you were, offering him the same. You were too good to be true, but he wanted to please you before you even got started with making him feel good. There was something he had been longing of doing for the past months he had you on his mind. 

We locked eyes again and he looked away before I made him look at me again. 

“Sit on my face.” he whispered and I froze, replaying the words in my head. That’s what he wanted?

“Please.” he breathed out. That’s all the confirmation I needed. 

“Yes, baby.” I reply and he shivers at the name I gave him. Slowly, I push him back so that he is laying beneath me. I lean down to give him a kiss of appreciation before I move up his body, eventually hovering over his head. The mattress dipped around his head as he watched me get in position.

Once again, the man's eyes were wide and his pupils were blown. He lifted his hands up, gently resting them on my hips as I found my stability. 

Mansk’s eyes were fixated on my bare heat for a few good long seconds before his gaze flickered up and met mine again. 

I wasn’t sure exactly how to do this and I didn’t want to hurt him. He seemed to catch on to my uneasiness. 

“Y/N, let me make you feel good.” he says, sounding a little desperate. His breath is uneven while his hands try to slowly pull my hips down.

“But that’s what-” 

"Please.” he breathes out again. I now notice his glossy, begging eyes and it makes me gulp. All I can do is nod and when he starts pulling me down on him, I don’t stop him. 

I’m hovering right above his face and I gasp when my core makes contact with his nose. He leans his head up and I feel his tongue swipe up between my folds. 

I gasp, biting my lip while staring down at him. This was completely new to me. 

Before he can continue, Mansk wraps his arms fully around my thighs, tugging me further down one last time before locking me in. 

I am almost literally sitting on his face now and Mansk can’t stop himself from digging in. His tongue works wonders, circling my clit before licking all around it and then teasing my entrance. 

When I feel him do the last thing I whimper, letting my head drop forwards and leaning on my arms in front of me. Holy shit. My breathing becomes ragged. 

Soon enough, Mansk starts devouring me like a starved man and I’m completely losing it. I’ve become a panting mess, having to bite down on my fist to not make any extremely loud noises. It feels so amazing my thighs start to quiver around his head. 

Suddenly, Mansk circles my entrance and then pushes the tip of his tongue into me. 

“Holy fu-” I swear, inhaling sharply while arching my back. I push myself up, leaning back and steadying my hands behind me on his bare torso. 

Mansk doesn’t stop and I notice how his tail almost starts to wag when he hears the noise I made. 

I can feel my orgasm approaching and my mouth drops open as I try to keep my composure. 

“Mansk-” I whine out and he groans into me when he hears his name. “I’m so close…” 

I try to suppress it, just to make this moment last a little longer but suddenly I feel light waves of vibrations beneath me, going straight to my core. I especially feel them on my hands that are resting behind me, on his bare chest. 

Mansk started fucking purring while comfortingly stroking my thighs and that was all it took for me to lose my mind. 

“Mansk! Oh my god.” I moan, my words gradually becoming less audible. He tightens his grip on me, completely locking my lower body down so that I literally can’t move or lift my hips off of him. He continues to tongue fuck me, riding out my orgasm while my legs shake and my vision becomes blurry for a few good seconds. 

I lean forward, my mouth gaping open while my tail tightly curls around one of his arms. 

Once I’ve finally come down a little, Mansk continues to lick me but he is a whole lot gentler now. His hands loosen, and slowly drift down my waist, giving me the opportunity to sit up. 

I lift myself off of him, leaning forward and lifting a leg over his head so that I was now sitting next to him. 

My face was now flushed too and I was a panting mess, my ears slightly drooped to the sides. 

Mansk sat up, turning to his side to face me. He had a prideful grin on his face which made me smile. One of his hands found mine and he held it, making my heart flutter. 

I watched him lick his glistening lips and my eyes widened. He was amazing. 

“How was that?” he asked. I would have expected it to be said in a teasing manner but it seemed like a genuine question. 

“You made my vision go blank for a few seconds.” I gasp, unable to hold back a small laugh. “Holy shit, my legs are still shaking.” 

His grin returns and he smiles to himself. This was by far the best moment on Pandora for him. 

I notice the tent in his crotch area and make it my mission to have him as fucked out as me. 

Steadily, I move over to him, straddling his waist again. His grin slowly fades when he watches my movements in a lust-drunk haze. His erection was becoming a little painful for Mansk but he would ignore it if you told him to. He would eat you out for hours if you asked and quite literally do basically anything for you right now. 

I settle on his waist and go to touch him but Mansk gently stops me. I lock eyes with him a wave of worry floods me when I see how hesitant he looks. Maybe I did something wrong or took it too far.

“Y/N?” he softly asks, his eyes looking sad. 

“Yes?” I answer, my voice hinting to worry. 

“I really like you…” he says, his voice quiet, barely above a whisper. I just listen, knowing there is more to come. 

“I really don’t want this to be just a one-time thing.”  Mansk adds. He was worried I was just using him to get off.

“Mansk, I want you. No one else… just you.” I say, watching his ears twitch and noting every little reaction. “If you want me too, this will definitely not be the only time we do this.” 

He seems a little relieved but not quite fully. 

“Do you feel the same way?” he asks, and I wonder for a few seconds. “I mean, romantically. Not just through attraction.” 

“Yes.” I whisper, letting my tail caress his leg. “Mansk, I think I love you.” 

His eyes light up at the words. He can’t believe it. 

“I love you more.” he whispers, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead to mine. 

“Not possible.” I add, smiling. My heart is racing and I just want to litter kisses all over him. 

“Let me take care of you now.” I whisper, moving my face close to his. He exhales a shaky breath in response, his eyes not leaving mine. 

I press our lips together, unable to get enough of him. The taste of me is still lingering on his lips and something about it turns me on even more. 

I run my hand down the back of his head before feeling all over his toned torso. My kisses move from his lips to his jaw, before giving attention to the other side of his neck. His heavy breath is fanning against my shoulder and he buries his hot face in the crook of my neck. 

My hands slide down, tracing over his v-line and running along the waistband of his pants, making him shiver. 

Mansk lets his eyes flutter closed as he focuses on feeling my fingertips caress his skin and near the place he needs me so desperately. 

I tuck my fingertips below the waistband and move back slightly to look at him.

“Can I?” I ask, wanting to make sure he was okay with this. 

“Fuck yes.” he breathes out and his answer makes me smile. 

Slowly, I start to tug his pants down and he leans down on his arms which are on either side of him and lifts his hips up along with me on them. I pull the pants down and let them fall behind me, down his ankles where he kicks them off. 

Mansk sighs in relief as his dick is freed from its previous restraints. 

I don’t move, staring down between our bodies with parted lips and I feel my mouth start salivating. He was bigger than I would have ever imagined. I’m saying his dick stood up to almost the same height as my stomach. 

Mansk notices and his ears droop a little in embarrassment. Good embarrassment. His face was flushed again and he looked mesmerising. 

“Don’t be embarrassed, you’re such a beautiful boy.” I say, cupping his cheek and loving his shy reaction. My praise made his heartbeat speed up and it warmed his heart. 

The big stone-cold giant had found someone who brought his heart to life.

I reach down in between our bodies, tracing down his now bare abdomen before gently wrapping my hand around the base of his throbbing member. Mansk shudders at the contact, trying to contain his excitement.

I bite my lip, gently stroking him a few times just to test the waters. 

Mansk’s shoulders relaxed and his lips parted at the feeling, but his tail was going wild. 

I want to show him how much I love him so I start peppering kisses to his shoulder, collarbone and then chest. He sighs in pleasure, letting his head drop forwards again while I keep a slow pace.

I grip his bicep to hold myself against him, my head now resting on his shoulder as I slightly tighten my fist around him and speed up the pace just a tiny bit. 

Mansk presses his forehead into my neck, panting against my warm skin. I rub my thumb over his sensitive tip, which I now notice is leaking a few beads of precum and Mansk whimpers, closing his eyes again. 

Hearing him make that noise had my stomach twisting in excitement and made me feel needy all over again. 

I lean forwards, readjusting myself on his lap when my braid falls over my shoulder. Mansk saw it from the corner of his eye and lifted his head to look. We were both still getting used to our new bodies and that included handling a long piece of braided hair with a nerve cord in it. 

Seeing it seemed to spark the same idea in him as it did in me. We knew now how Na’vi connected themselves with Eywa and the creatures of Pandora. They used their queue. It was also roughly known that the same was done for mating between two Na’vi. 

Mansk looked up at me and I stared back, thinking about it for a while. 

I picked up the end of my braid, examining my hair and then Mansk slowly reached behind him and pulled his braid over his shoulder. 

My eyes shot to his one and we exchanged eye contact in silence for a few seconds. 

“Do you want to…?” Mansk asks, whispering this time. 

I smile. “Mhm.” 

“I’m not sure exactly how-” 

“It’s fine, I read the manual.”  I confirm, knowing most of the team just skipped through the files before we were reborn. The files informing us about our new bodies.

He smiles. Of course, I read it. 

I pinch the end of my queue, revealing the nerve strands that move around like tentacles, searching for a source to connect to. 

Mansk mirrors my movements, doing the same with his queue. We watch them for a few moments before he brings his closer to mine. 

I do the same and we watch as the strands find each other, entangling in one another and forming one strong cord which glows with white light. 

We lock eyes and our pupils subtract before blowing wide again as we feel electricity shoot through our bodies. The feeling is slightly overwhelming and it feels like we just gained new senses but I can now feel him and vice versa.

I hold on to him to steady myself and we both breathe through it before Mansk presses his lips to mine. I immediately kiss him back, feeling twice as turned on now. 

I shift my hips closer to him, wrapping my arms around his neck to hold him close to me. Mansk lets his hands roam my naked body, running them up and down my slightly arched back before attaching one to my breast. 

I purr against him, breaking the kiss and rubbing my cheek against his. I’ve never needed to be so close to someone before. 

He bucks his hips up, desperately needing to feel some friction or touch and I help him out.

My hand wraps around his shaft again while our formed tsaheylu strand hangs between us. 

Mansk inhales sharply and I lift myself up a little, to line him up with my now-aching pussy. 

He watches, holding his breath as I rub his tip between my folds, covering it in slick. His hands grip my hips, not pushing me down, but just needing to grab onto something. 

Slowly, I ease myself onto him, my hand grasping his shoulder as I close my eyes and focus. Mansk lets out a ragged breath, watching my movement with half-lidded eyes. 

I let myself sink down about halfway, taking a few deep breaths just to get used to his size. My body seemed to be extra sensitive and all my senses were activated. 

I move up, leaving just his tip inside me before sinking all the way down and bottoming out. Mansk is biting his lip to try and suppress his noises but a whine still leaves him. I gasp, leaning my weight on him. Already, I felt overstimulated. 

“You feel so good…” he whispers, his voice hinting to how needy he feels. 

“Fuck, sorry. Give me a minute.” I answer, feeling a little lightheaded. 

“Don’t fuckin’ apologise. I’d wait for hours if you need me to.” he breathily answers, pulling me against his chest and wrapping his hands around me. 

His answer goes straight to my heart and I want to fucking smother him in kisses. “God I love you so much.” I say, kissing him again. The kiss is sloppy because we’re both a little overwhelmed but it feels so good. 

After a few moments, I roll my hips making Mansk break the kiss and gasp slightly. I do it a few more times and watch him unfold before me. All tension and stress left his body and he let his head drop into the crook of my neck again. 

“Holy fuck-” he mumbles against my skin as I continue my movements. 

Then I lift myself up a little again, before lowering myself down. This time it felt more like a thrust because we were both covered in wetness and precum and I got used to his size which hit my cervix every time I bottomed out. 

Mansk hisses, his ears flattening back.

Soon, I managed to keep a regular pace and Mansk supported me by lifting my hips with me. One of his hands slid down my hips, gripping my ass before digging into the flesh between my thigh and ass. 

“So good.” I mumble, my eyes fluttering closed as I slowly get lost in the feeling. I notice Mansk’s pinned back ears perk up for a second before returning to their previous position. The man lives for praise. 

I try to speed it up a little but this whole situation has me overwhelmed and I’m still so sensitive from my last orgasm, my legs starts shaking and giving out. Mansk notices and helps me still my movements. 

“You okay?” he asks and I nod, breathing heavily. 

“Sorry, I-” 

I’m cut off by Mansk lifting me off of him and laying me down on his bed, while our queue’s stay connected. I stare up at him as he turns and climbs on top of me, smirking. Oh, this man was going to be the death of me. 

“No apologies.” he whispers, reminding me of his previous words. I gulp, my eyes not leaving his and I nod. 

“Let me help.” he whispers, his gruffy voice sounding a little hoarse. 

Mansk presses a soft kiss to my cheek, gently pushing my legs open before he lays his hips between them. 

He aligns himself with me again before slowly pushing all the way in. Both of us sigh in relief and then Mansk reaches for my hand. He interlocks our fingers before placing our intertwined hand next to my head and leaning against it. 

My eyes find his again and he looks at me for permission to move. I nod eagerly and almost instantly, Mansk pulls out and sets the same pace I had before. 

I feel a pressure build up in my stomach and I desperately need him to continue so I envelop him in my legs, wrapping them around his hips and pulling him in even further. 

“Fuck, yes. Just like that.” I moan, dropping my head back and gripping his shoulder with my free hand. 

His eyes widen and he feels almost feral when he hears those words. The fact that he is the one making you feel this good and no one else makes Mansk feel prideful. He was worried you were into Ja, or worse, maybe even Lyle. But all Mansk’s worries were gone because you were in his room, naked on his bed, whimpering and moaning his name while being bonded through tsaheylu with him. This is more than he would even ask for. 

“Don’t stop.” I whimpered and he nodded, completely under the spell of lust. 

“Yes ma’am.” he whispered and I smiled. It was cute the way he wanted my validation. I liked having such an effect so easily on such a huge man. After all, he was a marine too and followed orders. 

I felt my need grow in my core, making my pussy clench ever so slightly around Mansk with every thrust. 

The feeling had him over the moon. His eyes were fluttering closed every now and then, always flicking to your face to be met with the wonderful sight of your pleasure flushed expression. Not that he was doing better. Mansk had been down bad since you got here. 

“Y/N,” he whimpered, his head dropping down while he continued to role and rut his hips into me. “I’m close…”

“Me too, me too.” I whine, cupping his cheek in comfort while my nails slowly dug into the skin of his back. “It’s okay, keep going.” I add, needing to feel the release again. Mansk seemed desperate for it too. 

He sped up his pace just a little and now every thrust felt like pure heaven. His movements became a little sloppy now, indicating he really was close. 

“You’re doing so well.” I whine between clenched teeth and he moans in repsonse, slowly losing his mind. 

His eyes shoot to mine and I nod, pulling him closer by my arms and legs. Mansk deeply thrusts into me and I come undone. My eyes roll to the back of my head and my mouth drops open while my pussy clenches around him. Mansk thrives between my trembling legs and pushes himself as deep into me as possible before releasing his load. I moan his name over and over again as I feel my body shake and my vision black out for a few seconds. The warmth of his cum feels like heaven to me it makes me lock my legs around him. 

Heavy breathing and panting fill the room and I see Mansk’s arms tremble. I pull him down, letting him know it’s okay to lay on me and he follows my movements, gently lowering himself down onto me. 

I cradle his head while my other arm halfway wraps around his back. His face is once again buried in the crook of my neck and I press my cheek against his, absolutely thriving with the warmth of his body. 

Mansk wraps his arms under my waist, hugging me while still being buried deep inside me. 

We stay like that for a few minutes, regaining our breath and enjoying the other’s company and body. 

Our tsaheylu’s disconnected and fell apart which Mansk felt. He looked at them before meeting my gaze, the scene reminding him of something. 

“Please stay…” he whispers, while giving me the softest puppy eyes ever. I wasn’t going to say no, but now I definitely couldn’t. 

“Of course.” I smile, blinking through my teary eyes from the orgasm. “I don’t want to leave.” 

“You don’t ever have to.” he replies, smiling at me. I giggle, running my hand through the hair on his head before he kisses me again and carefully rolls off my body. Surprisingly, he manages to stay inside me and doesn’t pull out. 

He pulls me onto him this time, so we’re laying chest to chest and I look up at him while resting my chin on his torso. 

“Is it okay if we stay like this?” he asks me, rubbing his thumb against my cheek before tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I lean into his touch, adjusting myself to get comfortable. 

“Yes please.” I answer with a soft chuckle, not wanting to lose the feeling of him inside me. Somehow it was comforting and I’ve never felt better or safer in my life. Being in his arms was the safest place I could be. 

“I want to be close to you.” he says, nuzzling his face against the top of my head and I smile again. 

“I love you.” I blurt out, wanting to remind him of that because this is definitely the best thing that has happened to me in fucking ages. 

His ears perk forwards and the words and he smiles, letting them droop to the sides. 

“I’m so lucky to have you.” he says, squeezing me and making me laugh. 

We exchange a few more words before Mansk covers us both in his blanket and leans over to turn the light off. 

His arms stay wrapped around me and I fall asleep tracing the specks of light and the patterns in his skin.

Tag list : @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

52 Pick Up: Final Part

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.4k

Summary: This case involves a misogynistic man that thinks women is God’s gift to men, and you need him to help you solve this case. Meanwhile, Spencer goes through a *minor* crisis about your relationship, but he sees you for the woman you truly are.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

x

It's not hard to find a dress to wear to the club in this sort of town, and when you do, you head to the locker room to change. However, all you can do is stare at the dress. This isn't who you are. You don't like to go to clubs. You'd rather stay home with Spencer and read or play chess.

"Y/N?"

You look to your left when you hear Hotch's voice.

"Come in. I'm almost ready."

"You're okay with this, right?" Hotch asks when he walks in.

"I'll be fine. Unfortunately, I've dealt with men like Viper before. Fortunately, they never won," you chuckle. "I can handle it. Though, I do think that it's a good idea to bring Emily along. We could throw him off."

"Yeah, that's a good idea. Derek and Spencer will also be around if you feel uncomfortable."

"I appreciate that."

Spencer knows how crowded it can get at a club, but he never expected it to be this crowded. He tries to give the profile and fliers out to every woman interested in talking to him, but they all leave with scoffs and weird looks on their faces. Spencer groans and walks over to Derek who doesn't have any fliers in his hands.

"So, how's it going?"

"Not good. I gave the profile to one woman and she asked if I was the unsub. How are you doing?"

"Well, I gave out all my fliers."

"How many phone numbers did you get?"

"None. I'm working a case here, kid." Spencer raises his eyebrows, and Derek rolls his eyes. "Okay, four were offered, but I didn't take any of them."

Spencer nods and looks around while playing with his fingers nervously. Derek notices some tension about him, and he walks in front of him to catch his eyes.

"What's going on in that big brain of yours?"

"Okay, don't tell Y/N about this, but I want to be more confident with her. I mean, look at you. You got four phone numbers, and I don't want other women's phone numbers, I want to be more confident with Y/N. I'm always talking and I'm afraid I'm going to scare her away or make her less interested in me."

"Kid, if there is one thing I'm sure about in this world, it's her love for you." Spencer still doesn't seem sure, so Derek places a hand on Spencer's shoulder to grab his attention. "Look, let me school you real quick. What you have to do with Y/N is just take control of the conversation. When you're talking, what makes you feel like an expert?"

"Statistics."

"No, trust me. Something else."

"When I do magic."

"See? See, that's perfect. I'm sure Y/N likes magic."

"She loves it, but I feel like she'll be bored of me and find someone new," Spencer sighs.

"Have you talked to her about this?"

"No."

"Okay, I'll give you a quick lesson on how to be more confident."

As Derek is talking, Spencer looks around for you. You should be arriving soon, and when he spots you at the entrance, a smile finds its way on his face. The dress you're wearing is tighter than normal, but the color compliments your skin. You're absolutely breathtaking to him. There are hundreds of women here, but you're the most beautiful one.

You lock eyes with Spencer and give him a stunning smile. You mouth "I love you" before winking at him. Viper is across the room from you, so you turn and head his way while Spencer watches with metaphorical hearts in his eyes.

"You know what?" Spencer cuts his friend off. "I don't need to change. She loves me for me, even when I'm talking about statistics and numbers or when I talk about Star Wars. I can truly be myself with her, and that's more than anything you can teach me."

"You're smitten."

"I'm going to marry her one day," Spencer smiles brightly. "I've been thinking about it. We've been together for three years."

"Are you serious?"

"Maybe not right this second, but one day, I'm going to ask her to be my wife."

You look back at Spencer once more before turning your attention to Viper. He's talking to some guys at the club for some last-minute pointers when he spots you in the crowd. You smile and wave at him even though it disgusts you to act this way. He excuses himself and makes his way over to you.

"This is a nice surprise."

"Well, the Atlanta PD and the FBI are combing all the bars you go to, and it looks like I pulled the short straw."

"Lucky me, then."

"Tell me something, Viper. Why do you do it? Why do you teach guys how to be somebody they're not?"

"Because it's a game; one I'm good at. I want to help other guys get good at it, too."

"So, affection, sex, and emotional commitment are all for fun?"

"No. The fun is in the initial spark. It's that thing a guy does in the first five seconds that makes you go... Him. What you're talking about is a different beast. You can't fake it. You have to want it. Now, why are you really here?"

Viper looks you up and down again before leaning in close to you. It's funny how he thinks he's going to get some from you. Emily takes this opportunity to come in to save you from throwing up all over Viper.

"Is this the guy you were telling me about?"

"Viper, meet SSA Emily Prentiss from the BAU. Emily, this is Viper. He's God's gift to women, apparently."

"God sure has a sense of humor."

"You brought a friend."

"You promised if I met you on your turf, you'd show me something special. So let's see it."

"Yeah, Viper, who gets pushed and who gets pulled tonight?" Emily asks.

"You see, eye contact is a very powerful gauge. It's why you tend to look away from someone you're attracted to. You know instinctively what a dead giveaway it is, but your brain goes there anyway. Images... fantasies..."

"Don't flatter yourself," she says slowly.

"The eyes don't lie. They dilate. It's a chemical response. We can't control it."

"Okay, fifteen seconds. Give it to me." Emily looks at you, but you don't see a change in her eyes. "Nope. No change. No dilation. Guess you're not a match."

"Only because you have someone else on your mind. Once that happens, the attraction center in the brain shuts down. Your turn," he says to you.

"No," you chuckle.

"Are you scared I might be right?"

"No, Paul, I'm baffled." He's a bit shocked you knew his real name, but he doesn't show it visually. "I cannot figure out what the unsub could have learned from you."

"What do you mean? He took my look, my words, and everything that makes me successful to the opposite sex."

"Really? Because that guy can get beautiful women into his apartment. I wouldn't let you on my Facebook page," Emily says.

"You're on Facebook?" you ask her.

"Yeah, you should friend me."

"I will."

"Hey!" Viper needs the attention back on him, so he doesn't like this little exchange. "I gave him the routines that made him what he is."

"It must all be in the salesmanship because we've been watching all the women in the club, and not one of them has looked at you. So, who do you really go home with, Paul? Or do you go home alone?"

Viper looks down but instead of breaking like you'd hope, all he does is laugh.

"That was really good, ladies. That was really good. Don't you think I know why you're here? One of my students copies my moves, and you're here to get inside my mind. Don't you see? I confronted my queen bee a long time ago."

"What's a queen bee?"

"You are, and so is every other confident girl in here who's loud when she's drunk. Every student who's ever taken my class has had one in his life. The first exercise my students have to complete is to confront their queen bee. It could be the girl who cheated on you or the prom date who stood you up, but you find them and squash them."

"I really hope I don't meet you again. Make it my turf, and you're really in trouble," you say before walking off.

Spencer is talking to the bartender, but before you can go to him, you call Hotch up with Emily by your side. You go to a quiet place in the club so you can place him on speakerphone.

"Our unsub knew Vanessa."

"How do you know?"

"It's Viper's first confidence-building exercise. Find the source of your first rejection and make her pay for it. That's why he stopped seeing prostitutes. He took Viper's class and decided to confront Vanessa."

"It makes sense with what he said to Vanessa that night. 'Don't you know who I am? Look closer'," Rossi says.

"He meant it literally. We need to talk to the family again. Stay there, Y/N. The unsub could show up at any time, and you're the best way to catch him."

"Yeah, I will."

You leave Emily's side so she can patrol the area while you join your boyfriend's side who is now talking to Derek. When he sees you, and pulls you in for a hug.

"I hate the club. I'd rather be at home and doing puzzles or playing chess or listening to you read." Spencer stares at you with an unreadable expression and a smile. "What?"

"Yeah, I'd rather do that too."

Spencer's phone rings and he picks it up when he sees it's the bartender calling him. However, when he answers, she hangs up the call. She called him for a reason, and if she isn't picking up, then that means she's in trouble. The bouncer of the club saw her go into the back right before a man followed her, and you have no doubt it was the unsub.

It's very difficult to follow one energy with this many people at the club, but you manage to follow it to the back where there is a red and blue energy... and no bartender. After calling it into hotch, Penelope found out everything about her so that units could be dispatched to her apartment.

"The bouncer saw Austin go out the back. She likes to smoke back here."

"Based on the witness's description, it definitely sounds like the unsub was here. We got units at her apartment, but no one's home."

Spencer tries her phone again, but it's going straight to voicemail.

"It keeps going straight to voicemail. Maybe we could have Garcia try to triangulate where she is based on the cell phone."

He's about to hang up when he hears a quiet ringtone come from the fake plants behind him. Austin's phone has been dumped there, which means the unsub has his hands on her.

"He has her," Spencer says.

While your team was at the club, Hotch and Rossi worked with Penelope to get Vipers' attendance records. Rossi talked with the Holden family again and got the name Robert since he was always obsessed with Vanessa when they were kids. With Robert, Bob, and Bobby, Penelope narrowed the list down to twenty-three suspects. Once she had access to their birth records, she pulled the mothers' names and cross-referenced them with work and home addresses in Fulton County.

That gave her Robert C. Parker, who lives at 932 Pryor Street which is only five miles from the station and the club. Everyone available was sent to his address, and before you even got out of the car, you knew Austin was in there because her energy was pouring out of the open windows.

Derek breaks down the double door just as Robert was going to stab Austin. He looks at Derek in shock and tries to run, but he tackles the bastard to the ground easily.

"Don't move!"

You and Spencer rush over to Austin who is a crying mess on the floor while the rest of the team scopes out the apartment from the inside. Spencer removes the tape on her mouth while you take off the tape on her wrists.

"I called you," she sobs.

"I know. I know. Let's go."

Spencer takes her outside where the ambulances will show once they arrive. You look at a closed door in the back of the room and nudge Hotch about it.

"There's someone in there."

Hotch approaches the door carefully and opens it to reveal an old woman hooked up to a dialysis machine. She is confused and scared about what's going on. She must not know what her son has been doing.

"Who are you? What do you want?"

"Mrs. Parker?"

"Where's Robert? Where's my son?"

"Everything's gonna be okay. We're gonna get you some help."

"Woman No. Please. I need Robert. I need to be changed," she whimpers.

"It's a dialysis pump," Rossi whispers to you and Hotch. "It was issued ten months ago. We found our secondary trigger."

Austin is going to be okay once she calms down and has a therapist for life. The club life has never been for you since you'd much rather be at home with Spencer. That's exactly what you're going to do as soon as you get back to Quantico. Without him knowing, you bought a puzzle book at the airport so that you two can do it at home.

Spencer is finishing with some paperwork while you're in the break room making some coffee. It's going to be a long night ahead of you. Derek walks in to empty his half-drunk cup when he notices you.

"How are you doing?"

"Fine. I hate that Viper is still out there, but there isn't much I can do about that."

"What's that?" he asks and points to the book.

"It's a new puzzle book for Spencer," you grin. "He finished with his other one, and we're trying to beat his record which is over two minutes. I can't wait to do this with him."

"You're smitten."

You look over at Spencer who smiles at you. He finishes what he's doing and gathers his things to head home for the night.

"I'm going to marry him one day," you say proudly.

"I know. You two are perfect for each other."

Spencer walks into the break room just as you grab the puzzle book.

"Ready to head home?"

"With you?" You grab his hand and intertwine your fingers. "Always."

"Cleanliness becomes more important when godliness is unlikely." - P.J. O'Rourke

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[lover-of-mine]

I was reading some of your spies comments. And decided to take a few hours to just watch Buddie and Tommy scenes. And it was interesting because while I completely ignored them, I now understand why they are pissed.

As a Buddie shipper, S7 was actually 10/10, no notes, fully recommend. We were served in every aspect behind the scenes and in interviews. And we ate every scene!!!! It was Buddie at perfection, really. In turn after the wedding. When I saw the medal ceremony, I just sighed. Then, in the finale, the whole time, I was getting excited maybe it was cut. But no, there it was.

After re-watching, I remembered 2 things. During speculation, they swore that the desert scene was going to be BT go Karting (remember they thought it was his truck), and they thought he had a big Maddie scene. And one was Bobby, and the other was JLH acknowledging yeah, sure I sat behind him. Also, there was a Hen, Karen, and Tommy scene cut, right? No big declaration of what their relationship even was. Hooking up, situationship nothing.

And back to the dinner scene when I view it from them. We had a heavy buddie family moment. That leads to Buddie at the hospital together. Then, when the danger is gone awkward dinner. Then, it ends with a heavy Buddie scene. It wasn't even placed at the end of the episode. A total throw-away scene.

I mean I guess I get why they are so salty now??

Imma be honest with you, after the 706 kiss, I was kinda expecting Tommy to have Taylor's level of involvement in the plot, especially after we saw he was at the station for 709, I was fully bracing myself for an episode like 411 focused on building their connection. I was always in the "Buck is not the one in the desert" speculation, so I wasn't thinking about the go-karting, but I was ready to admit it would make sense. Make them go on a date, make something go wrong, bond through first responder effort, kinda like how Buck and Taylor bond through detective work. And then he was barely there. I feel like even our initial speculation where Buck would leave a date because of the crisis with Chris would've been better for the relationship because that type of situation would force the relationship to be defined in some way. The dinner is just there to remind us of how bad Gerrard is. It's 57 seconds that add no definition to the relationship, it just lets us know they are still hanging out, there's no touching, no declaration about what they are. And it's completely buried by the weight of the buddie scenes. Buck and Eddie were being partners and co-parents and there was this tiny scene that's mostly there to remind the audience of who Gerrard is rather than to actually build their relationship because all they got is a really weird-toned scene that makes Tommy seem very dismissive of Buck's feelings. Again. When I was doing the math on how much screentime they had I was legit shocked. Because they had 4 minutes in 7b. The kiss scene in 704 has 4 and a half minutes. The kiss scene alone is more screentime than he had in the rest of the season. He made it known Buck is bisexual, he helped Buck come out and then he vanished into the fog. People got so caught up in the way 911 had a canon m/m ship involving a main character that they built a fantasy on what the relationship would look like, even more so considering the space we had between 704 and 706 that upped everyone's expectations and a lot of these people just kept doubling down because they were in too deep to walk themselves out when the show didn't deliver. What do they actually have? Two kisses, two and a half dates and kink joke? All that after being told the relationship was "thriving"? Even the interview with Oliver and Lou didn't deliver. And at some point, people need to accept they were prompting what Lou was saying in those cameos, especially now that well dried up. Them being mad makes a lot of sense. But, obviously, we're the delusional ones because our ship, uh *check notes* hasn't kissed?

[seldarinesorcerer]

Ipcha Mistabra

In the Talmud, in Tractate Bava Metzia, Abaye and R. Pappa, two 4th century Babylonian rabbis, got into an argument. And like many arguments in the Talmud, what they disagreed about was which of two earlier authorities held differing opinions on a matter of Jewish law. You could see it either one of two ways – say you have an argument with your brother, for example, about a disagreement that went on years ago between your great aunt and your great uncle. You say it was your great-uncle that loved the Red Sox and your great-aunt who loved the Yankees, but your brother says it was the other way around (she loved the Red Sox) – and then he throws in the fact that Ted Williams was a better baseball player than Joe DiMaggio, now you have a full-blown rabbinic kerfuffle.

Getting back to the case of Abaye and R. Pappa, they were attempting to establish the basis for determining a fair market price for olive oil, which was a precious commodity in the ancient near east. It turns out that olive oil was sold filtered, no sediments were supposed to be in it; and the authorities carefully watched the seller’s and the purchaser’s assumptions about how much of this excess material got through the process anyway, got mixed in, and they’d establish the price based on their divergent assumptions. 

So after Abaye lays out his reasoning, lines up which side took which role in the argument, R. Pappa turns around and says “You’ve got it totally backwards - how they argued it out,” and he offers an 180-degree differing explanation about who (more than a century earlier) took which position and what was motivating them.

"Ipcha Mistabra" – the Talmud says. It’s Aramaic for “Things can be understood the other way around.” It’s the Talmud’s way of saying, hey, you might think that, here, this is the logic behind a certain dispute, but guess what! I’m going to illustrate an opposing, maybe counterintuitive, way of looking at the disagreement. You can see it from a different angle entirely.

Ipcha Mistabra

An editorial writer in Haaretz on August 1st this past summer (Haaretz being a totally secular newspaper) used the term to make his point. He suggested that in political circles we should all be asking what may be counterintuitive, even shocking – about why Netanyahu would assassinate the political leader of Hamas in Tehran, if the guy was a key player in negotiating a diplomatic solution to the hostage crisis and ending the war? (Keep in mind this was before the assassination of Nasrallah and the Hezbollah decapitations in Beirut!) The guy who got killed, Ismail Haniyeh, was a bad guy, for sure, but do you assassinate one of their chief negotiators? At the time, most commentators just drew the conclusion that Israel may have overshot its goals, made a tactical blunder. But the same writer went against the grain, by suggesting that Netanyahu intended it, he did it deliberately – he “outsourced” a tenet of Israeli escalation domination strategy to Iran – by calling its bluff – letting Iran figure out at what level – it would decide to retaliate. The reasoning for this, he continued, is that the Israeli prime minister actually wanted Iran to bear the risk of confronting the US. Force Iran to think about a larger war it can’t control by upping the stakes for itself and its proxies and sucking America into it. And, at the same time, the Israeli prime minister would divert attention away from the war in Gaza!

But I’m not bringing this up to get into politics, we have enough of that. See, what I’m curious about is this way of thinking – going with what’s counterintuitive that’s happening right in front of us. We’re often so sure about how things have reached the stage they’re in right now – but just suppose we pause to ask an alternative set of questions? In the dazzling novel Kairos by Jenny Erpenbeck, a young woman from East Berlin falls in love with an older married man from the “other” side, only a year or so before Germany is reunited. As the wall falls, her reality and her fantasies disintegrate, better yet, are subsumed within a new mental mapping – and all that remains of a long, illicit affair is a ritual they go on performing whenever they part company (in Erpenbeck’s words): “When they leave a place together, he holds out her coat, she slips into it front-wise, briefly holds him in her arms, then slips it off and puts it on the right way.”

Ipcha Mistabra

I can remember, when I was a child, I used to walk down this (what I thought was a) long hall and peer behind the thin glass of a mirror on the wall, to see if there was something there looking through it – back at me.

Getting to the Truth is more than simply arguing the other side of a debate (that’s hard enough, standing in someone else’s shoes); sometimes it’s looking at the obverse of what we think we know – for everything we commonly think of as true and solid – there may be, in fact, something more unsettling to it. 

At the end of July, it was reported that William Calley died in a hospice in California. For those of you born long after the Vietnam War, Mr. Calley was synonymous with the My Lai massacre, the mass murder of a village filled with defenseless women and children, although in so many ways his conviction told us something more. It stood in for a senseless war fought by Americans for a regime that was terrible and corrupt – a war that our society eventually came to realize it should have no part in. It unmasked a larger issue: that something in our own society was rotten, had failed, and we needed to look ourselves in the mirror. Coincidentally, the same day that it was reported that Calley died, it was also reported that a Palestinian prisoner was abused in the crudest way by Israeli soldiers, and were it not for a whistle-blower, there was a likelihood that others would get away with this abhorrent behavior, and, in fact, probably already have. And yet, there were loud protests in Israel by people who think it’s somehow unfair to accuse prison guards who, after all, are put in charge of the worst of the worst.

Ipcha Mistabra

What do these moments mean for our hopes and illusions in a larger sense? How do they speak to our commitments to one another, to making a better world? Can we, in these Days of Awesome, marshal the fortitude to peer behind the hell-scape of the kibbutzim that were devastated on October 7th, the charred remains of homes, the wreckage of a dance festival? Is there a way to see behind the mirror – or maybe it’s for this very reason that we cover the mirrors in a house of mourning? And then there’s the cruelty to the hostages that keeps us looking away.

Ipcha Mistabra

Have you read Percival Everett’s great literary invention, called James? It takes Mark Twain’s Huckleberry Finn and turns it around, so that we explore, we come to know what’s behind the opaque figure of a slave, however benevolent, the character of Jim is in the original famous book. In Everett’s telling, that same Black human being, invested with dignity and chutzpah is brazen enough to steal… a pencil! He’s hidden it away deep in his pocket, because if he’s caught with it, he’s liable to get hung. The pencil is more valuable than anything else – and in Everett’s words, he writes “himself into being.” In fact, James’ supple use of language is his character’s animating force – he’s not just intelligent, but he’s a human being with his own desires and imagination. What you get is there’s another side to Twain’s story. And, I’d also go so far as to say that Huckleberry Finn in each telling of the story is a child who’s a tabula rasa – he’s malleable, sympathetic, not yet formed, our humanity without the artifice of race, that reflects what could someday be true of all of us. But in the meantime, it’s James who comes into focus in this new telling. 

Ipcha Mistabra

The same pattern of obfuscation-and-recovery holds true for Viet Than Nguyen, the writer of the wonderful novel from a few years ago, The Sympathizer, but who also wrote a scholarly nonfiction work entitled Nothing Ever Dies: Vietnam and The Memory of War. He calls attention to the design of the Vietnam Memorial in Washington, its shiny black granite surface, as bringing not just the names of those lost American soldiers front and center, but, we, the viewers, see ourselves observing it. The wall provokes anxiety – there’s a mirror effect – and suddenly we are implicated; and it subverts the patriotic American framing of this war being our tragedy. We’re looking away! We’re omitting the memories of millions of dead Vietnamese, after all. He calls it a “disremembering”.

I was talking to a rabbi in my community about this, and he told me that he and his wife had taken a trip to Vietnam this past spring. He said that he was hoping naively, as a Jew living at a time when our own prospects for tomorrow are in question, to understand how and to what extent the Vietnamese have come to terms with the past and embraced a different future... But in wishing to see things all “repaired”, he very well could have been disremembering too. I wonder how the Vietnamese will write “themselves into being” again? 

So we know right now we’re standing at a crossroads in modern Jewish history. It’ll take decades to sort it all out: what we in the Jewish world should want, whom it is we think we serve, whom we fail to serve, and the memories that cloud our vision. There’s that mirror we hold up, as does Sarah in Genesis 21, with the opening line:

ויהוה פקד את־שרה כאשר אמר ויעש יהוה לשרה כאשר דבר 

It’s translated “G-d remembered Sarah just like God had said,” but it’s more than remembering – the verb פקד means “G-d performed an accounting, (as if there was something yet owed).” And the commentator Malbim explains that although G-d had predicted the birth of a child in Sarah’s old age, to her it was – until this point – lacking in credibility, unresolved – what with her passive husband yielding to her jealousy, nonchalantly leaving Hagar with her toddler out in the cold, the family in turmoil. After all, Sarah famously laughs out loud, she finds G-d’s prediction funny, even a bit disturbing. In this troubled Torah narrative, amidst her doubts, the future hangs in the balance.

Nachman of Bratslav teaches that when we are despairing, at odds with the people around us, we can become like a blank slate, a book that’s empty – Every one of us can be like “a human being,” שאין לו ספר. There’s nothing in the book – it’s vanished! An empty Torah scroll! So, he says, we begin, this is where we find ourselves, at this place of no place, but we still have this blazing desire in our hearts, a yearning to learn! Maybe we forgot something? 

And how does Nachman set it up? He says it’s like this: that somewhere out there in the world there are two tzaddikim, two righteous people, they’re conversing with one another, however – the only thing is – they’re walking along on two separate paths, this one tzaddik over here on this side of the world and this other tzaddik miles and miles away. Maybe it’s a bit like being online? But he goes on to say that this one tzaddik over here poses a question and the other one over there offers an answer, a way to figure it out. A question and an answer, but again – it’s just speech, our voices, often cacophonous, nothing more than that – but they can add up. It’s the vibrations that unite, and they can produce the purest Sound, the Voice of G-d. And it’s this Voice that ultimately connects one to the other, Nachman says – it’s this Voice that then gets written down as a ספר זכרון, we call the Book of Remembrance. We remember!

We may have during a long, hard year forgotten something about ourselves, what we really stand up for. It’s possible. We may have, on the arduous path – amidst our arguments, our public statements, our gatherings in solidarity or in protest – lost track of who we are, where we can vibrate with the Truth – where the Truth of humanity is. James Baldwin said it: “Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced.” 

Ipcha Mistabra

Things can sometimes be explained the other way around, in a way we have as yet not fathomed, or refuse to see. We may never have expected it, we may never have imagined an entirely different future, or maybe we disremembered it all along! – but somehow, in seeing things differently, it might yet help us to get at the Truth. 

On this Yom Kippur, may we loosen the shackles of ideology, slacken just a little bit the cords of fear and recrimination and sanctimony, and help our adversaries, our neighbors, even the ones we love who’ve hidden their faces from us at times – to write ourselves “into being”. May we all be written and sealed for a year that gives us new life and hope and, G-d-willing, a focus on peace.

Amen.

[randomfoggytiger]

randomfoggytiger's Fictober Wrap Up, 2023

My first Fictober has concluded; and I decided to throw together my entries, thoughts, and acknowledgements into one post for posterity.

*****

Fictober Fics

"The Dead Are Everywhere, Scully"

Mulder and Scully reunite in the afterlife, two skeletons dancing in the rain and the mud.

"Regardless of His Actions Last Night"

Queequeg, alive and savage, joins Scully on her Chinga vacation.

"As Agent Mulder Says, There Are Many Different Kinds of Vampires" Part I

Mulder and Scully are attacked and turned into vampires by Ronnie Strickland. Scully's crisis begins when her faith seemingly rejects her.

"Time Passing in Moments"

Post Fight the Future Scully brings Halloween to Mulder, determined to give him a break while they wait and wait and wait for OPR.

"As Agent Mulder Says, There Are Many Different Kinds of Vampires" Part II

Mulder encourages Scully not to give up on her faith, both of them choosing to face potential death by holy fireball rather than letting her live in fearful limbo.

"There's Something Up There Mulder"

Scully realizes that Tooms is likely a distant relation of the Gender Bender Brethren (Amish hats are mentioned.)

"I Wonder If You Think It's Safe Enough to Indulge Yourself"

Metaphorical similarities between Mulder's supposed red-green colorblindness (which he does not have) and red-hot Phoebe Green.

"How Much You're Like Ahab"-- Mulder parallels his and Scully's crime scene eating habits to those of their cannibalistic pets.

"The Truth Is Out There-- But So Are Lies"-- Scully ruminates on her partner's ease with lying; and her ability to save him from Them and himself.

"Something Approaching a Normal Life"-- Mulder realizes Scully had invited him to (a disastrous) Thanksgiving to distract himself from the anniversary of his sister's abduction. He plans to return the favor.

"Preying on the Weak and Vainglorious"-- Post Sanguinarium Mulder ruminates on bad luck and bad ends; and Scully insists he's beautiful.

"Kids Today, Huh?"-- 2023 Mulder sinks into a slump after listening to a mopey song all day. Scully reasons him out of it.

"Is Being Made a Fool Of a Crime, Agent Mulder?"-- Mulder and Scully celebrate life, the dead, and all the Roadrunners and Wile E. Coyotes of the world. (My "happy birthday in a way, Mulder" fic.)

"We Need to Get Help"-- Mulder contemplates the glaring similarities between Gender Bender and Never Again and the new differences in his partner.

"We'll Think of Something"-- The Unnatural Scully grumbles over Mulder's tendency to run off into trouble. She goes, anyway.

"End of the Road"-- Mulder's peace after Closure.

"He Had Parents Who Loved Him"-- The Mulder family and baseball.

"I Think She Was Just Trying To Get Away"-- Scully reminisces on Mulder's distance and need for distraction post Monday.

"You Don't Know the First Thing About Me"-- Krycek has fixed opinions about the Syndicate, Mulder, Marita, and morals.

"My Religious Convictions Are Hardly the Issue Here"-- Scully and Mulder try to tackle her fears post All Souls.

"I'm Tired"-- Scully draws parallels between her Tithonus experience and Mulder's Sleepless and Demons one.

"Life’s Just a Path”-- If Melissa were alive post Fight the Future and Millennium, she'd never let her sister live it down.

"I Think He’s a Hard Kid to Love”-- Post Schizogeny Scully is sent on a case with Mulder to unofficially help Skinner's friends, one of which is a bear. (Prompts and artwork contributed by my two sisters.)

"Mulder Will Be Back”-- Jeffrey Spender sneers at Mulder's "hubris."

"Easy for You to Say”-- Post First Person Shooter Mulder is enamored with his little battle girlfriend.

"No More Paranormal than a Change of Wardrobe”-- Freshly-dating Mulder and Scully's lifestyles don't quite match yet; but the effort is worth it.

"What Must a Mother Go Through”-- Post Emily Mulder reasons Scully out of her Mrs. Peacock comparisons.

"Watch Over You Wherever You Go”-- One Breath Maggie remembers the many reinterpretations of her daughter's necklace.

"Your Ideas Are Weirder than Ours”-- The Lone Gunmen are woken by two very grumpy-with-each-other special agents.

"Doesn’t Make Him Less of a Miracle”-- AU Mulder tries to fight colonization and wrangle his "sea monster" child at the local ball pit.

"Sooner or Later a Man’s Gotta Face His Demons”-- Post Amor Fati Scully prods Mulder on a stakeout about his lack of Samhain hunting.

*****

My Thoughts

It's been a few years since I've committed to a daily creative project, but this month flew by. It was a joy to prove myself, in a way; and an even greater privilege to take other people's prompts and turn them into stories. I'm proud of the work I put in, proud of how they turned out, and proud that they entertained anyone who read them.

I did discover a personal writing flaw: grammatical errors and spelling mistakes. Which, given that I write and "edit" everything in under an hour and that my brain autocorrects and rewrites while I'm actively writing, is understandable. There are multiple reblogged versions of my finalized fics because I would spot an error and edit after publication but not before the readers hit. And that's okay! (When my Ao3 submission goes through, I'll upload each fic "in its final form", so no sweat there.)

*****

Trivia

Each fic was named with a quote from The X-Files, mostly from Mulder and Scully but also by various side characters (Phoebe Green, Krycek, and Maggie, namely.)

I tackled Scully's religion a lot this month as a way to work out my frustrations with her episodes: her belief in the series has always been chocked up as "yes man" syndrome; and I believe it did a disservice to Scully, multi-layered character that she is. I hope it did her a little more justice.

In a way, I dedicate "The Dead Are Everywhere, Scully" to @enigmaticdrblockhead-- whose writing not only influenced that piece but also sticks with me to this day-- and @perpetually-weirdening-- whose interest in an immortal Scully breathed life into this idea.

In a way, I dedicate "The Truth is out There, But So Are Lies" to @suitablyaggrieved: the discussion we had (concerning Mulder's ability to lie quite well) rattled around in my head until I put it down "on paper."

In a way, I dedicate "Something Approaching a Normal Life" to Baroness Blixen, who is the master of weaving angst and fluff into her holiday fics.

In a way, I dedicate "I Wonder If You Think It's Safe Enough to Indulge Yourself" to @settle-down-frohike because it reads more meta than fic (while also reading as fic.)

In a way, I dedicate "He Had Parents Who Loved Him" to @television-overload, whose baseball fic inspired by Field of Dreams still takes up space in my noggin.

And I think that's all my thoughts for now~.

*****

Acknowledgements and Thanks

@baronessblixen for encouraging me to write this month-- another boost on the long list of encouragements you've given me~.

@agent-troi and @welsharcher (my Fox Mulder Singleton Club members) for their generous prompts. Truly touched by both of you: your loooooooong list, agent-troi; and your vibey suggestions, welsharcher.

@wexleresque for your vampire prompt (that was a fun fic challenge), and your "looking up at the sky" prompt (which challenged me to tackle older years Mulder and Scully.)

@stephy-gold for her Nessa Barrett song prompt (which I plugged into older years Mulder and Scully)-- I learned something new and tackled a genre that is not my favorite (songfic.)

@tossingmyglossymane for the post Monday prompt, which was more challenging to write than expected (and turned out great.)

@xxsksxxx for the prompt about Scully's cross necklace-- that was an initial struggle to nail down until I tied it back to Maggie; then it flowed~.

Anon for the prompt wanting Mulder to mull over Scully's words in Gender Bender (which tied, I thought, perfectly into his confusion in Never Again.)

Thank you to my sisters for the fall prompts that lead to Bernie the Bear (and another thank you to my younger sister who let me include her doodle for that day's Fictober entry.)

And thank you to everyone who engaged, liked, reblogged, and anything else! (I always like to dip in and out of the Notes section to see how each person responded differently to each fic-- a bonus game: make guesses and see if they're correct.) There are too many to count, so I'll just include a few off the top of my head: @dd-is-my-guiltypleasure, @amplifyme, @pianogirlxf, @scullys-scalpel, @teenie-xf, @agertiegirl, @improlificinsarcasm, @borogirl, @tofuttim, @mysteryness, @rosedyl, @spidey-is-tired, and others~!

*****

Thank you for reading~

Enjoy!

Tagging @today-in-fic and @xffictober2023 and @fictober-event

[munson-blurbs]

Happy 2k followers! If it’s alright could I make a request for my birthday using the 2k prompts with Eddie/hellfire room/birthday cake?

Very fluffy fic incoming! Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: none, all fluff!

WC: 1.2k

--

“Okay, okay, yeah. No, I totally understand,” you say into the receiver, willing your voice not to crack. “I hope everything gets cleaned up quickly.” You slam the phone back on the hook, punctuating your aggravation with a string of curses. 

“That sounds like it went well,” your neighbor, Dustin, quips, munching on a granola bar. Any time he comes to your house, he manages to find your snack stash. 

You bury your head in your hands. “That was Meg’s Café,” you explain. “Apparently a pipe burst last night and flooded the whole place.”

“Shit,” Dustin mutters, taking another bite. There’s nothing more indestructible than a teenager’s appetite. “That’s where you were having Eddie’s birthday party!”

“Oh, really?” you retort, voice dripping with sarcasm. “That hadn’t occurred to me; thanks!” You sigh as Dustin flips you the bird. “Where are we gonna find space to throw him a whole party in…” you check your watch, “...three hours?!” You turn to the younger boy, who’s already moved on from your crisis in search of more food. “Dustin, focus!”

“Sorry, jeez.” He holds his hands up in surrender. “I can’t think on an empty stomach.” 

You roll your eyes and reach into your fridge, pulling out a crown of broccoli and tossing it to him. “Go nuts.”

He takes a big bite just to spite you. “Okay,” he says, “let’s consider our options.” He puts the vegetable down on the counter. “We could have it here.”

You shake your head; the apartment you share with your mom is barely big enough for the two of you. “Too small.”

Dustin nods. “I’m guessing Eddie’s trailer is also out, then.” He sighs in exasperation. “My mom would never let me throw a party, so that rules out my place, too.” He taps his chin before raising his pointer finger excitedly, like a mad scientist with an ingenious idea. “How about the Hellfire room? We can decorate it, order some pizzas, cut a cake—”

“The cake!” you groan. “Meg’s was gonna have one for us!” 

Without saying another word, Dustin darts across the hall to his own apartment. Communication is not his strong suit, you think wryly. He comes back moments later, out of breath and clutching two rolls of cookie dough and a bag of potato chips. 

“Let’s bake ourselves a cake,” he pants, plopping the tubes on the stove. 

“With sour cream and onion chips?”

“Oh, that’s for me. Though the broccoli was much appreciated.”

~

Dustin quickly recruits the rest of Hellfire Club—and Steve Harrington, their reluctant chauffeur—to decorate, while you two start on the cake. 

“I need a rolling pin,” you tell him as you open the plastic casing. He dutifully hands you the tool. “I hope Eddie is okay with a chocolate chip cookie cake,” you murmur. 

Dustin chortles. “Please,” he says, “that man would eat dirt if you were the one serving it to him.” You feel your cheeks heat up, and you try to focus on rolling out the dough. You and Eddie have been friends forever, but you’ve only been dating for a few months. That’s why it’s especially important for everything to be perfect. 

“Don’t believe me?” Dustin continues. “Ask Lucas and Mike. One time you left him a cute note in his locker, and he kept looking at it during Hellfire. Couldn’t even stay in his DM character. And this is the guy who once puked and came back to finish a campaign like nothing happened.”

“Okay, okay,” you say, placing the dough in the oven. “I’m gonna call everyone and let them know about the change of venue. Just take the cake out when the timer goes off.” He gives you a little salute as you make your way through the guest list. 

“Cake’s done!” Dustin calls out as you wrap up your final call. The smell of freshly-baked cookies wafts through the air. “Just gotta let it cool.” He looks over at you before blurting out, “So, uh, do you love Eddie?”

“I, um,” you choke on your words. “I don’t really know what love feels like. Like, romantic love.”

“Well,” he starts, plopping onto a kitchen chair, “when you get news—good or bad—who’s the first person you wanna tell? When you think about your future, who’s there? Who makes you smile more than anyone else? Whose sadness makes you sad?”

It’s the same answer for all of his questions. “Eddie.”

“So, there ya go!” Dustin exclaims, slapping the table. “Now all you gotta do is tell him.” He says it like it’s no big deal; like you wouldn’t be baring your heart to him. What if it was too soon? What if he thought you were rushing things?

~

Your nerves are already at an all-time high, but when you hear Wayne and Eddie’s voices traveling down the Hawkins High hallway, your heart feels like it’ll pound out of your chest. 

“So you’re applying to be a custodian?” Eddie’s saying, disbelief tinging his tone.

Wayne coughs. “Uh, yup. Figured you could show me where your club meets before my interview.” His voice is so stilted and awkward; for everything he’s good at, Wayne Munson is not an actor. 

The doorknob turns, and your stomach feels like it’s filled with lead-winged butterflies. “This is the Hellfire–” Eddie stops in his tracks as he takes in the sight before him. All of the club members plus Max Mayfield yell out, “Surprise!”, and you watch as a huge grin spreads across your boyfriend’s face.

“Happy birthday!” You bound over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing a kiss to his lips. 

“Baby,” he murmurs once he wills himself to pull his lips away from yours, “did you do all this?”

“Kind of?” You laugh at his bemused expression. “This was gonna be at Meg’s, but they had a flood, so everyone helped me move the party here.” You glance at the table behind you, where people are already digging into the pizza pies. “I was hoping for more of a sit-down dinner, but we had to make do.”

“Tell him about the cake!” Dustin shouts, making you roll your eyes playfully.

“Cake?” Eddie asks, cocking an eyebrow.

“Yeah…Meg’s was also supposed to provide a birthday cake, so Dustin and I whipped up one using cookie dough.” You’d managed to find a tube of blue gel icing in your cabinet, and you’d written Happy Birthday Eddie with a little heart on top of your makeshift cake. “I know it’s not exactly what you wanted, but it’s all we had on hand…”

Eddie shuts you up with another kiss. “Not exactly what I wanted? Babe, I’m surrounded by my favorite people at a party thrown for me by the girl I love. I couldn’t have asked for anything better.”

You’re so touched by his words that you nearly miss his confession. “Wait, you…you love me?”

He nods, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “I love you so damn much, it scares me,” he admits, letting out a little laugh.

“I love you, too, Eddie.” You’re about to bring him in for a passionate kiss–audience be damned–when you’re interrupted by a certain curly-haired meddling freshman.

“Told you!”

--

[true-blue-sonic]

Hihi... Could you do 18. Encouragement for Espilver? I really like your stories...

18. …as encouragement.

White Space is... intriguing, Silver ponders as he limps towards Crisis City.

If anything, it's a testament to the plethora of places Sonic has been to before; there's plenty Silver doesn't recognise. And many of them are lovely as can be, with lush sceneries and grandiose buildings all around. Plus, it's nice to talk to all his friends gathered here, either waiting in White Space or traversing the various Zones at their leisure while Sonic and his tiny counterpart restore more and more of the areas.

Now that Sonic has trounced him and he doesn't need to watch his Chaos Emerald anymore, Silver had taken to exploring as well.

"I think you'll like Sky Sanctuary! It's a part of Angel Island that's made of tons of ruins and stuff," Sonic had told him once he'd scraped Silver off the pavement and brought him back to the front of Crisis City, in the empty safety of White Space. "Knuckles should be hanging around there, and Amy too."

"I'll tell them about your progress," Silver had promised, before setting off to the left while Sonic and tinier Sonic rushed right. Though, already the first Zone he encountered was gorgeous as can be: a sprawling ocean scene, orcas jumping through and elaborate stone buildings with red decorations cluttering the lands. Others coming before that had been lovely as well, but after his visit to Sky Sanctuary and taking the decision he should return to Crisis City should Sonic desire a rematch, Silver's found himself pausing in front of Seaside Hill once again.

With before it Espio, irkedly hurling around shuriken with a face containing thunder.

"Hey, Espio," Silver speaks up... as an altogether frosty glare gets sent his way.

"Silver."

Espio rarely talks like that and certainly not to Silver, and thus the hedgehog raises a prompt eyebrow as he floats over. "You're mad," is easy to conclude; Espio's shoulders are raised, his throws on point as always yet containing none of the grace with which his beloved usually fights.

A grumble is Silver's response, another shuriken getting hurled. "I lost."

"Lost what?"

"...Hide-and-seek with Sonic."

Silver's begun laughing before he can stop it.

"Shut up!!" Espio hisses at him, though as he whirls around to jump right at Silver to grab him and wrestle him to the ground a laugh slips past his lips as well. "I can turn invisible! Isn't that shameful?! All my training has been a complete, utter waste!"

Flailing his arms to grapple Espio into a death grip Silver squeaks with chuckles, the two of them tumbling over sand and past empty white undergrowth until Espio's got him firmly pinned down. "I lost too. It's fine, Espio," the hedgehog pants, pushing a smirk onto his face as he catches his breath. "We'll get him next time, and it'll be fun!"

"It is not. A ninja of my calibre should never have ended up in such a situation in the first place. First getting swept away by some monster and frozen in time, and then being found multiple times by Sonic as we battle?" Slowly Espio's iron hold turns into nothing as he lets Silver's wrists go, something more dour crossing his face as he sighs. "I must keep training, clearly. Today has extensively proven to me my ineptitude."

With a snort Silver pushes Espio to the side, the other tumbling onto the white ground with a grunt and promptly finding himself snatched into grey arms. "Sonic's just really strong. Instead of bemoaning that, you know what to work towards," the hedgehog brings up; advice that Espio likes to give to others as well. "And you're not an inept ninja."

"I am."

"Are not." Head bonking against Espio's Silver puts the cutest, cheekiest, most adoring smile on his face. "You're the strongest, coolest, and most skilled ninja I have ever met. And the most serious."

"...I'm the only ninja you've ever met."

"You don't know that," Silver, whose ninja-meeting indeed has kept itself to a single person until now, responds incorrigibly. His next step is a sadder nuzzle, against Espio's cheek. "And I don't want to hear you say such things about yourself. It's not true," he adds. He doesn't like the thought Espio is beating himself up about anything...

Espio hums softly... but his arms wrap around Silver too, the hedgehog's tail thrumming against the ground in delight. "I appreciate your encouragement, tenshi," his beloved smiles; a real smile this time, his fingers trailing over small grey ears. And as he leans closer, Silver eagerly presses their mouths together; a kiss of praise and faith, Espio getting tugged even closer against him as the other breathes out a mumble of surprise.

"You got this, Espio. We'll both keep training, and we will beat Sonic one day," Silver purrs at him, once he's broken away and gasped some air into his empty lungs. "Maybe together. There's nothing we can't do with the two of us!"

"That is a good point. But first, let us rest and recuperate," the chameleon agrees fondly. And with how perfectly Silver lays snuggled against his side, the hedgehog can only agree. Sonic can wait for his rematch.

First he'll give Espio some more kisses and nuzzles of encouragement, just in case he needs it.

[saurons-pr-department]

Hey anon, I have screen-shotted your ask because I am going to try stay out of tag/term searches here, which in an of itself probably answers your question XD

So! Thoughts as they occur to me!

I did give the whole first season a watch. Partly out of giving it a chance, partly out of morbid curiosity, like when you can't look away from something awful happening in front of you even when you really want to close your eyes.

What I think is interesting actually, is that my main issues with the show have somewhat changed since I initially watched it. While watching it my only thoughts were "wrong, wrong, that never happened, wrong, wrong, wrong, look how they massacred my boy (gn), wrong!" And while those thoughts themselves haven't changed my main issues have changed to focus more on how it's such a badly structured story (the timelines feel both stretched and compressed in a way that doesn't add anything to the stories being told) and how I don't think it knows yet what it wants to be (it's Tolkien, but it's its own thing, but it's a 'prequel' in the very modern franchise sense of the word to the PJ films, but it's also not those films).

For the structure, I personally wouldn't have put two major stories into one show. I don't think there's the time for that. Both the Akallabêth and the creation of the rings exist as very sketchy narratives that cover extremely long timeframes. Original content was always going to be needed to fill the gaps. But by putting both tales into the one show, I feel they've doubled the amount of gap filling needed while halving the amount of screentime they have for it because there's now twice the amount of canon to cover (tbf, they don't seem to want canon so maybe that's not an issue for them...). To force them to run simultanously and then add original content that isn't just filling the gaps but appears to be completely original, you end up with a story that is both too empty and too full. Nothing is getting the time it deserves. Big moments feel undeserved or rushed. It takes the wind out of its own sails. (and that's without mentioning that these stories running alongside eachother just throws timelines and motivations out of whack, but I refuse to get us all bogged down in the minutiae of my grumblings!)

It's a pity, the story of the fall of Númenor and the creation of the rings have such good parallels, but that would require them to focus on things like religion and politics etc and they seem to be more interested in mystery boxes, so... oh well?

In regards the show's identity crisis, to be fair to them, that's really not that unusual in first seasons. They're not special XD Let's face it, how often have we all been recommended something that came with the caveat 'you need to get through the first few episodes/first season before it gets good and finds its feet'? Especially fantasy and sci-fi that has to establish facts about the world as well as characters in a way a drama set in the real world doesn't. I wouldn't be shocked to learn that the show hits its stride a bit better in later seasons.

However, my current biggest gripe with the show is what I'm seeing in the writers' attitude to storytelling. I can't stand it. The actor for a certain someone whose name begins with H didn't know who his character really was until after shooting the first few episodes. There's the back and forth of is it H or the guy who fell from the sky who'll turn out to be the villain. Sky man even gets some stalkers whose only purpose was to add confusion to this situation and then be immediately killed, no further context. One of the writers (I don't remember who) when asked about deviations from canon said something to the effect of 'we don't want book fans to be episodes ahead'. It's the modern Marvel school of story-telling. It's mystery boxes and twists and fears of spoilers and people knowing what's coming next. That's not how you tell a story. You need more substance than that. Big moments are only interesting if you've earned them with a well crafted lead up. And what's the point of a big moment if it adds nothing to the story in the first place. They had one of fantasy's most iconic villains, why was there a secret? The Second Age is where he's cracking out his most rediculous long cons. The man's twirling his mustache while kicking up his feet and writing 'evil' into every date in his diary for at least a millenium, what does a secret identity add to this story really?

Don't worry, I will move swiftly on from the topic of my boy who is not really my boy before we get in too deep... No one needs to hear that... But do you get my point? Big reveal. No substance.

To add a note of positivity, I actually really like Sky man's music. It's genuinely a really nice piece of music. I also liked that they wanted to add one of the 'original' orcs, that's a cool concept!

Oh! And whoever okayed those American 'stage-Irish' accents needs to be fired into the sun :D

[meowcats734]

After I'd done my best to resolve the crisis in the cabin, Vuliel had gone off to a corner to get used to his new, double-souled state. I didn't blame him—the solution I'd slapped together was haphazard at best, and it couldn't have been comfortable for either of them.

But I had helped. The constant grind of grabbing new attunements whenever I could, even if it meant making my friends angry or sad or regretful, had paid off. I was one step further away from the cowering, helpless witch of self-hatred that had hidden helplessly while different shades of grey tried to kill each other before my eyes. 

Lucet had excused herself from the cabin after watching me desperately battle to hold Mertri's dying soul together, and I had a sneaking suspicion I knew what she was doing. But the rest of the refugee soldiers in the cabin immediately burst out into a clamor of overlapping voices, asking who we were, how we'd found them, whether we knew how to get out of the storm. Our answers ranged from deflections (a traveling oracle and his children) to truths (what part of 'oracle' did you not understand) to cautious bargaining (why don't we all get settled first), but it seemed like we weren't going to get rushed by a bunch of desperate Peaks soldiers, so I let Sansen handle most of the negotiation and nudged Meloai.

"I'm going outside," I whispered, as Sansen asked if the soldiers knew about a witch of lust in the army. From the sounds of it, he wasn't getting very far. "Let me know if... I dunno, the Peaks folks get all snippy about me using regret or something."

"Will do. Hopefully none of them get mad at me for being a mimic," Meloai whispered back.

One of the sharper-eared soldiers whipped his head our way. "You're a what?" he asked.

I sighed. Sansen didn't seem too agitated, so I was sure Meloai would be fine. That was their battle to face.

I had my own.

###

Lucet was casting frost spells when I exited the cabin. Not many, and not much—none of us really understood the amplification of frost magic that raged beneath the rift, but Lucet seemed to be getting the hang of it nonetheless. 

"Are you going to say I'm reckless for using my magic right now?" Lucet asked. There wasn't even any acrimony in her voice—just resignation.

I shook my head, stepping up next to her. "No. No, I was stupid when I told you to stay away from frost magic. You're smart and capable, and a much better witch of sorrow than I am."

Even as I watched, Lucet delicately cleaved a wafer-thin sheet of sorrow from her soul, flicking it out like a throwing card. It scythed through the air, a trail of frost hissing with amplified magic. It was a respectable frostbolt, one that I certainly couldn't replicate.

"Twelve attunements," she finally said.

Neither of us had to ask what she was talking about.

"I know," I whispered.

She didn't say anything more, just slicing off another chip of sorrow from her soul, practicing the frostbolt until her hands frosted over and her sorrow ran numb.

###

Eventually, Sansen came out to tell us that we'd reached an agreement with the soldiers. By the frustration in his face, I could tell he hadn't found any news on Jiaola's whereabouts, other than confirmation that at one point, he'd been here in the army. 

"They apparently got lost in the conflict, so we gave them directions out of the storm," Sansen said. "And we're getting use of the cabin, since... well, they're not using it anymore. Everybody wins."

"Odin would be jealous," I said. Sansen just shook his head and turned to leave. I hesitated, turning to see if Lucet would stay outside, but she squeezed my hand reassuringly and followed Sansen into the cabin.

It didn't take long to get settled in. The soldiers had, with military efficiency, already set up a space for us to sleep. All we had to do was use it. 

But I'd barely hit the mattress when something struck my soul, jolting me awake.

And suddenly, I wasn't Cienne, weighed down with worries about Lucet and Jiaola.

I was Sansen, and I had just jolted awake in tears, fragments of memory spinning off from my soul.

###

My husband was—is—the strongest witch I know. He wasn't strong in the sense of fireballs or artillery strikes, but he cared, fiercely and truly, about the people he loved. About his family. And it said something about him that the two were one and the same. Even when the odds stacked against him seemed insurmountable, even when he'd been beaten down over and over again by a mocking world that hated and feared him, he still found a way, time and time again, to protect those he cared for. And that was his strength, one deeper and truer than any spell could ever be.

Is, I reminded myself. That is his strength. He's still alive, somewhere out there, in the storm.

"We'll find him," a quiet, young, high-pitched voice said from my side, interrupting the thakka-thakka-thakka of hail on the cabin roof. My nephew Cienne wasn't related to me by blood, but that wasn't what family meant to us anyway. "Jiaola's a fighter. He'd want his husband to keep his head up."

I snorted. "My head's up, kid. More than you. I'm, what, a hand taller than you? A hand and a half?"

Cienne stuck his tongue out at me, unamused. I guess he never did like it when I poked fun at his height; I made a mental note to stop. "I can tell you're running low on hope."

Ugh. This was the danger of living with witches: everyone cared so much about your emotions. It was endearing when it came from my husband, but I was the one who was supposed to be taking care of my nephew, not the other way around. "C'mon, kid," I said instead. "It's late. Head off to bed. We've got a long day tomorrow, and you need your sleep."

Cienne grumbled. "I'm supposed to be in the Academy right now. I'm practically built to pull all-nighters. You need your sleep, Sansen. Now git, before I cast a sleep spell on you."

I raised an eyebrow. "Do you actually know how to do that?"

"Sure do. A good thwack on the head should do it. Maybe I'll knock some sense into you while I'm at it." Cienne turned around, a ball of blazing witchlight in one hand, then paused. "Take care, Sansen. We'll find your husband eventually."

I closed my eyes. "Yeah. I know."

When I opened my eyes again, Cienne was gone. He'd left the light behind.

I sighed and trudged over to the repurposed dining hall that we were using as a communal bedroom. The kids were already sleeping—having the luxury of actual beds after so many weeks on the road was a potent sedative. I glanced towards my bed.

The shadows beneath it seemed to stretch and writhe.

There was a reason why I'd been getting less sleep, as of late.

But Cienne was right. Restless, nightmare-plagued sleep was still better than no sleep.

I laid down on my bed and closed my eyes, and some part of me fancied that the shadows swallowed me whole.

###

The nightmare wasn't, and then it always had been. One moment, I was dissolving into the oblivion of sleep; the next, I was standing in a crashing hailstorm, watching my husband struggle to stay alive.

"Damn you," I whispered. I tried to pinch myself awake, tried to snap out of the dream, but my body wouldn't move, my eyes wouldn't close. All I could do was curse myself and watch.

Watch as Jiaola fought for his life.

"Stay close to me!" Even in the chaos of the storm, Jiaola always did find a way to protect those around him. A squadron of soldiers in the uniform of the Silent Peaks clustered around him for shelter as the old witch held up a hand, hail smashing on a barrier maintained by nothing but Jiaola's soul. "Can any thermal-capable witches provide us with warmth?"

"It's no use!" The soldier next to him—a young woman I didn't recognize—cursed as her magic fizzled out. "The ambient frost magic—it must be interfering. We're going to freeze to death out here!"

"No. No, I refuse. We need shelter. A way to keep body heat in. Make a snow cave. I'll keep the wind out for now." Jiaola held out both hands, as if supporting some great weight, and in a massive bubble around him, the air stilled. Snow froze in air that was suddenly as solid as steel, creating a dome of shelter in the supernatural storm—

And then a comet of ice, larger than a person, rained from the sky and blasted a hole through Jiaola's sanctuary. I tried to look away by reflex. I knew what happened next. I'd lived through this fucking nightmare every day for the past four weeks.

The world went blurry and white with the impact.

When the snow settled, Jiaola was nowhere to be seen.

"I can take you to him," a voice said from behind me.

And now came the hardest part of the nightmares. I glared, my body frozen in place, as the demon stepped into view.

They were tall, masculine, barrel-chested, even human-looking. But my husband was a witch, and I was no fool. I knew the Dealmaker well, and I knew that they were a demon. One who offered things otherwise unattainable.

But the Dealmaker's offers always came with a cost, even if it was hidden at first. And my husband had personal experience with the Dealmaker's temptations. It was a terrible idea to even so much as consider taking their hand.

And yet.

And yet it had been months since I'd seen Jiaola's face. Months since I'd held his hand, since I'd last run one thumb over the wedding ring the two of us had fought so hard to be able to wear, months since I'd known he was sent off to war and lost in a blizzard and just maybe gone forever.

"No," I whispered, and it took all the strength I had left in my soul to refuse.

The demon tilted their head. "As you wish."

And the dream reset to the beginning. Jiaola stood defiant against the storm, providing shelter for the innocent, as he always did.

And the storm snuffed him out like a candle.

Like it always did.

"I can take you to him," the demon murmured once more.

I wished my body would move, so that I could close my eyes and plug my ears and not have to see my husband vanish over and over and over again. "...No..." I managed, and it was weak and feeble and still.

"As you wish."

And the dream reset again.

And again.

And again.

And each time, I felt my will erode. Each time, I felt myself slipping closer to taking the Dealmaker's hand.

On the eighth time this night, the nine hundred and sixtieth time in total, I saw my husband fall one last time.

"I can take you to him," the Dealmaker said.

My mouth never dried, my throat never roughened, but I was still so, so tired of speaking even those two tiny letters.

I opened my lips. Closed them again. Tasted the shape of my words.

"Mayb—" I began, and something in my soul burned.

I was thrown back, shocked, as the false landscape around me unravelled. The demon jolted to life, stepping back, as something shadowy and clawed and protective stirred from within my soul.

"Wh—what are—" I began to say.

"DEALMAKER," the larger demon rumbled, and its sinuous form curled around mine, glaring down at the cautious Dealmaker. "THIS ONE'S SOUL IS NOT YOURS TO SET FOOT IN. YOU HAVE NO RIGHT."

The Dealmaker gathered themself, crouching into a low combat stance. "I have no right? Who gave you entry into this man's soul?"

The serpent of shadow and flame lowered itself to the Dealmaker's eye level.

"HIS HUSBAND."

Then it surged forwards, striking the Dealmaker in a single, decisive blow that cracked my soul with the sheer force of it, sending memories flying every which way, and the illusion the Dealmaker had summoned was blown apart like icicles in a blizzard.

Leaving me alone with the serpent.

I told my beating heart to calm down as the serpent turned towards me. "MORTAL. I APOLOGIZE FOR MY... SUDDEN APPEARANCE."

"No. No, don't apologize for protecting me." Weakly, I laughed. "He... he always did that. Does that."

"YES. I AM A FRAGMENT OF YOUR HUSBAND'S ESSENCE. I HAVE INHERITED MANY OF HIS TRAITS." The serpent hesitated, then continued. "INCLUDING, AS IT SEEMS, HIS PENCHANT FOR SELF-DESTRUCTION."

"What?" I blurted out.

"MY POWER IS... LIMITED. ONCE I HAVE IGNITED MY SOUL FRAGMENT, I CANNOT EXTINGUISH IT. THE MEMORY THAT FUELS MY EXISTENCE WILL BE UNMADE IN ITS ENTIRETY SOON, AND I WILL FADE. I... APOLOGIZE, FOR MY INSUFFICIENCY."

"No." Rifts, it was absurd to be comforting a snake-monster larger than a house, but I tried my best anyway. "No, you did amazingly. You did... you did what he would have done. I... just wish that it wouldn't mean I was alone, after this."

"YOU ARE NOT ALONE," the serpent said, coiling around me. Somehow, it felt like an embrace. "YOU HAVE YOUR NEPHEW. YOUR FAMILY. AND ONE DAY, YOU WILL SEE YOUR HUSBAND AGAIN."

I smiled. "Yeah. He's... he's the strongest witch I know. We'll meet again."

"SOME SUNNY DAY," the creature agreed.

And then it was gone, one moment a serpent, the next a mere shadow, fading as day broke.

My eyes jolted open, tears running down my cheeks, as the monster under my bed faded away, as did the demon it died protecting me from.

###

I blinked out of the memory, gasping, and turned to my left. It was a profoundly disconcerting experience to see Sansen from a different perspective immediately after accidentally absorbing the memory that'd been blasted off his soul in the battle—and from Sansen's pained expression as he clutched his head, it wasn't much better from his end. The fight inside his soulspace that'd blasted off his memories of the recent past probably wasn't doing him any favors.

But despite the disorientation and pain, I laughed.

Because in the memory Odin had taunted Sansen with of the place where Jiaola had fell, and I recognized the part of the Redlands where it was set.

"Hey, Sansen," I said, sitting up. "I've got good news, and I've got bad news."

A.N.

Soulmage is a serial written in response to writing prompts. Stick around for more episodes, or join my Discord to chat about it!

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[stuffymcstuffsworld]

Pierced my heart part 3

The sooner the better. You watched as your elder finished setting his traps along the border line. Everything needed to be ready before the energetic demon returns.

Elder crow stood up examining his work. It was just before midnight. He turns to you. And while you can't see his face due to his mask you know he is scowling.

You bow your head as he disappeared into the trees. The Hum-in-oda tribe had been avoiding demons since the beginning. It was how the clan stayed safe. The clan had to be thought of as a whole and no individual could be favored over another. Especially if one was to be labeled as a hazard to the tribes safety.

You were a hazard now. A demons interest was not a good thing to have. You sat and waited. It was the only thing you could do at this point. The moon hanging high over head.

You heard heard the tell tail signs of wings. Your only clue that he had arrived. You sat patiently. You knew he spotted you because his steps got careless instead of stealthy. You drew out a knife and threw it.

The blade cut through the air and embedded itself into the ground in front of him before he could take another step. He's smiling again. You could have stabbed his foot and he was smiling.

Demons were strange... especially this one. "That's as far as your getting." You try to keep your voice flat and your heartbeat calm. He dropped his bag. His green eyes never left yours.

♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧

They were here! They were waiting for him! He thought he had been super early by arriving at midnight on the dot but nope!

Ah! Maybe they were waiting the entire time for him to come back. His heart raced. He wanted to hold them! But they threw a blade at him before he could get further. He pouted.

"But I missed you!" He whines. They look so pretty standing there in the moonlight. He knew they would be even prettier without the mask.

"Is it because I took to long getting back. I'm sorry next time I'll come back right away!" He says egarly. "Go back to your clan and stay there!" They hissed. "No way!" He shakes his head.

He couldn't leave! He didn't even know their name yet! "I have so many questions!" He tries to advance further but they throw another knife. This time it lands in a trap that would have most likely taken his leg. THEY DID CARE♡!

"What's your name? Do you like flowers? Which do you like better fish or meat?" He shoots rapid-fire questions at them. "Why do you want to know that?!?" They snapped at him.

"Well I think I should get to know my future spouse!" He says happily. He's met with silence. He looks at them. He can't tell what their thinking with the mask on.

♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧ Your brain was broken. That had to be the most logical explanation. You misheard. Definitely misheard.

"What did you just say?" You asks in a tight voice. "Ah I said I should get to know my future spouse!" He said it again. 'AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH' you threw your hands up into the air. Spirits give you strength.

"Who said I was marrying you!" You pointed an accusing finger at him. Embarrassment flooding your body. "I did just now!" He has the nerve to be cheerful about this!!!??!!

"I didn't agree to this!!!" You snapped enraged. "You haven't disagreed either!" You froze. Blinking and thinking back you realized you technically hadn't rejected him.

"To late can't change it now! We're getting married!" You sputtered and gasped at the conviction he held in his eyes. This wasn't fair! Not at all!

"Don't worry, I'm gonna court you properly. So by the time we get married, you'll be head over heels for me too!" He declares. You just stare at him. You should have just killed him when you had the chance.

He's gonna haunt the border forever at this rate. You could practically hear Elder Oak laughing about this when Elder Crow would report back.

Maybe it wasn't too late to drown in the river? You were dealing with an internal crisis. You were gonna die anyway, and you might as well put yourself out of your own misery.

"So what's your name?" You looked into the demons' bright green eyes. They glowed in the moonlight. It was beautiful... just a name couldn't hurt... right?

"They... they call me... Y/N." Of course. That would be the moment. That is the exact moment you are pierced through the heart by an invisible arrow.

Cause in that moment... there in the moonlight. He gave you a smile so bright it oushined the heavens. All from knowing your name.

"Y/N...? I like it! It's beautiful!" He cheered. You blushed behind your mask. He was just... just so...? Enchanting. How could a demon like him possibly be bad?

[superman86to99]

Action Comics #699 (May 1994)

"THE BATTLE FOR METROPOLIS" STARTS HERE! Well, not here here, since most of the issue is actually just the setup for the battle itself, but this still counts as the first part of the storyline that will reshape the City of Tomorrow forever (in comic book terms, so "for a few months").

We start with Lex Luthor Jr. being interviewed on a panel-style TV show that conveniently recaps all the relevant plot points: Lex Jr. is at war with Project Cadmus because he blames them for the virus that's killing all the clones in Metropolis (including Lex Jr. himself, because he's actually Lex Sr. in a clone body). The Underworld clones living in Metropolis' sewers also blame Cadmus for their malaise and have been voicing their displeasure by breaking Cadmus shit all over the city, using big '90s-type weapons Lex secretly provided.

During the interview, Lex points out that Metropolis' so-called protector hasn't been terribly helpful during the current crisis, but that's because Superman's been occupied dealing with his power issues -- as in, his superpowers going out of whack, not that his landlord cut off his electricity or something. Fortunately, Superman managed to get rid of his excess powers last issue by just letting the Parasite absorb them (which turned the Parasite into a big-ass monster, but that's a problem for another storyline).

After recovering from his fight with the (now-missing) Parasite and confirming with Professor Hamilton that his powers are completely back to normal, Superman catches up with Lois Lane, who recently lost her job due to Lex's h4xx0r skillz. Talking to Lois, Superman finally learns the shocking truth about Lex Luthor Jr. = Lex Luthor Sr., and he also finally connects the dots between the clones of Metropolis getting sick and Lex suddenly looking old and frail.

When Superman goes to confront Lex, he sees that a kinkily dressed-Supergirl is about to kill him and has to stop her (see the Supergirl miniseries for more details on how the heck that happened).

Once Supergirl leaves, Superman goes after her, apparently forgetting what he came to LexCorp for (or deciding to give poor Lex a break, given his frail state). Lex's faithful medical team, Drs. Kelley and Packard, end up putting him in a "hyperbaric chamber"/big healing tube and chopper him to his private yacht so he can recover.

Meanwhile, the city is being evacuated and things are tense between the various groups that are supposed to protect it. A fight is about to break out between members of Team Luthor, the Special Crimes Unit, and Project Cadmus, when some nasty Underworlders suddenly emerge from the ground and attack the Cadmus guys. Superman drops by to reason with the Underworlders, and they actually seem to be listening to him... until Lex, from the safety of his yacht, remotely fires one of those sci-fi guns he gave the Underworlders, and all hell breaks loose. OK, now we can say the battle has started. TO BE CONTINUED!

Plotline-Watch:

We get an appearance from Jimmy Olsen's mom AND Bibbo in the same page?! Oh boy. Unfortunately, Jimmy himself appears too (along with Ron Troupe, both riding Bibbo's bike straight into the danger zone). Interesting that Jimmy has an Uncle Fred and Aunt Lynn in the city, yet he still ended up living in his car for a while. Is there a a deleted scene where he asked if he could crash with them and they just laughed for ten minutes?

Lex publicly blames Cadmus for destroying his private homes all over the world, but those who read the Supergirl mini know that was actually S-Girl subtly letting him know she's breaking up with him. Incidentally, in Supergirl #4, she actually throws Lex through his office's window and Superman rescues him, but in this issue, Superman arrives before she can throw him. Continuity error... or an anomaly caused by a certain time crisis looming in the horizon?!

When Superman is having his check-up with Professor Hamilton, he notices Hamilton seems distraught -- Hambone claims it's because of the chaos going on in the city, but I think it's clearly because Superman didn't even comment on the fact that he just dyed his hair brown at some point since his last appearance.

What with the city being under martial law and all, Perry White moves the Planet's city room to the newspaper's printing plant on the edge of town, and thinks to himself: "I've endured fires, blackouts, and riots, but I've never been forced to evacuate my own city room... until now." He might be talking about the fires, blackouts, and riots that happened during and around the "Blackout" storyline, when Metropolis was going through a Lex-triggered economic crisis.

Incidentally, Perry also seems to notice for the first time that all of the Planet's computer equipment was made by his biggest enemy's company, so he asks to see a test run of anything that's printed from now on. Don Sparrow says: "Interesting that Perry White, no longer a reporter, is the first to have the notion of checking the presses while investigating the wacky headlines Lois was purportedly creating. Lois and Clark are both intrepid newshounds, and neither of them thought of that? I suppose Clark was busy being enormous at the time."

Mayor Berkowitz, usually a level-headed chap, sides with Luthor and says on TV that Cadmus is intentionally creating all that chaos as revenge for that time he and Lex didn't let them steal Superman's corpse (during "Funeral for a Friend"). Surely this means Lex will finally forgive Berkowitz for having him arrested way back in The Man of Steel #4, right? (Spoilers: haha, no.)

I mentioned in our post about Man of Steel #33 that the nonchalant way in which Lois told Superman about Lex Jr. being a clone kinda bugged me. It was so nonchalant, in fact, that Superman didn't even seem to remember that bit of information in this issue, since he exclaims "What?!" when Lois mentions it again. Or maybe he thinks Lex Jr. being a clone was predictable but it's the part about him having Lex Sr.'s brain that took him by surprise? Either way, I'm actually glad we got a do-over on that moment, even if it still wasn't as dramatic as I would have hoped for.

Patreon-Watch:

This post was published today and not in like three months thanks to the Superman '86 to '99 Patreon gang, Aaron, Chris “Ace” Hendrix, britneyspearsatemyshorts, Patrick D. Ryall, Bheki Latha, Mark Syp, Ryan Bush, Raphael Fischer, Kit, Sam, and Bol. You rule!

You know who also rules? Don Sparrow, who has more commentary on this issue after the jump...

Art-Watch (by @donsparrow):

We start off with the cover, and it’s a very blocky, Kirby-like pose, of Superman fast-walking into gunfire.  I love the one eye in shadow, which gives the pose an intimidating and mysterious air we’re not used to seeing with Superman.  As always, Guice’s Superman seems to have the longest Tarzan locks (at least until Stuart Immonen joins the team) and that’s true here.

Inside the issue we get extremely '90s guest artwork by Norman Felchle and James Pascoe, and while it’s not my cup of tea, he is remarkably consistent throughout.  Felchle would go on to do storyboard work for Pixar, Netflix, Marvel and others, so hopefully he isn’t sweating the criticism from a never-was like myself! The opening splash page is a good example of the 90’s style “extreme” stylization, as we see a computer-generated Lex Junior with a big old curly tress blocking his eye.

The length of this stylization changes panel to panel.  We get more extreme linework a page later as Perry White’s disapproving expression makes his forehead look like cracking clay. [Max: Are we sure this isn't Darkseid posing as Perry as part of some nefarious plan?] After this argument, we get our first look at Superman himself, and it’s not bad overall—the S-shield is consistent throughout, and his wavy hair is well rendered.  One of the main things that bug me about this art style (apart from when he attempts regular clothing, but we’ll get to that) is that every male character has an identical nose, particularly from the front view.  Once I noticed it, I couldn’t stop seeing it. [Max: Dang, can't unsee it either.]

A few pages later, as Superman trails the Parasite underground, we get an example of Felchle’s penchant for perhaps-unnecessary detail.  Rather than the gritty cement he has at the top of the panel, the Metropolis sewer is drawn to have been made up of European cobblestone, which is both pleasing to look at, and an unlikely building material, especially some 20 feet below the ground.  Felchle does excel at motion—there’s a great image of Superman flying away from Professor Hamilton’s apartment.

It’s followed immediately, however, by the strange physics of Lois Lane dislodging a cathode ray television set with a couch pillow! The following page is the best example in the book of Felchle’s aforementioned weakest point—drawing regular humans in regular human fabric.  Lois’ green sweater clings in such an unnatural and revealing way to her body that it appears to be made of cellophane (there was a similar instance earlier in the book when a beat cop’s uniform appeared to have been painted on, and again in a few pages on poor old silver-haired Sarah Olsen). [Max: To be fair, Byrne did establish early on that Mrs. Olsen is actually pretty young and attractive, but her hair greyed prematurely.] Sadly for the industry, this kind of cheap fan service depiction of women would become the norm rather than the exception in the decade to come, but in this era, it is a real deviation from the naturalistic look we’ve gotten used to. 

A few pages later we get a tiny glimpse into the concurrently running Supergirl mini-series, where Superman talks Supergirl out of taking her vengeance on Lex Jr. too far.  This whole scene is a little blasé for my tastes, as the stuff Supergirl describes (attempted murder, cloning experiments) is as bad or worse than the stuff Lex Jr. has been pulling on Lois.  As Guardian looks for the Underworlders, we get still more of Felchle’s unique brickwork, this time above ground, at least.  Lastly, we get a pretty lean and mean Superman on the final couple of pages as the Underworlder/Cadmus conflict becomes a shooting war.  The three-fingered mutant firing on Superman recalls a couple Byrne panels, starting with flesh-suit Metallo getting (temporarily) blown away by S.W.A.T team members in Superman #1, and also Superman getting shot at by Bloodsport a few issues later in Superman #4. 

STRAY OBSERVATIONS: 

There’s just a ton of stories going on here, perhaps too many to comfortably deal with in a single issue.  We have the abrupt end of the Super-giant storyline (with no sighting of the Parasite that Superman crashed to Earth with), the who-cares war between Cadmus and the Underworlders [Max: I care, Don! I care!!], the Lois-bonkers headline storyline, the Lex-is-dying storyline, and then even a glimpse at Supergirl’s mini-series.  It’s no wonder this issue feels quite long, but also incomplete.

It’s nice to see a little more of the Daily Planet’s operations, but the introduction to plant manager Jeff (no last name) and Jane (no last name) are so quick, and staged so distantly, we really get no sense of them as people. [Max: Jane Stewart, Don! Big fan of Jane Stewart, who appears for all of three panels. I don't know if she ever shows up again, but I'm giving her a tag on the blog anyway.]

Without saying too much, they’re certainly telegraphing who the mole in Lex’s organization is.  Whenever this character appears in this issue they’re either admonishing Lex, or revealing details of Lex’s life to underlings.  The reveal they’re setting up for really doesn’t feel so shocking after all this. [Max: Is it Vekko? I bet it's Vekko.]