#goddamn spaceman

[christiecandor]

Literally what I did today. 😅 Happy Ricksgiving!

[gra55-tast3bad]

"Goddamn spaceman" XDDD

[chungledown-bimothy]

top 5 video essays!!!

just 5?? okay, um. i'm gonna have to run my favorite video essays playlist through a few filters: minimum one hour, one video per creator, and no hbomberguy or defunctland. everyone here knows roblox_oof.mp3 and the disney theme, i want to show some love for other videos)

1- The man who tried to fake an element (Bobbybroccoli) He's a master of explaining just enough of the historical and scientific context to put things into perspective while keeping it interesting. The way he visually depicts what he's talking about is also always fantastic. This video is the pinnacle of both of those, I think.

Also it's a really interesting and funny story. How he thought he'd get away with it still baffles me.

2- FNaF & Undertale: How to/NOT to Tell A Story (Spaceman Scott) The thesis is perfectly unbiased. There's no objectively right or wrong way to tell a story, let's look at these two culture-changingly popular stories and how differently they were created and are told.

The other 75 minutes of the video are absolutely shitting on Scott Cawthon and talking about how much the attention, love, and care Toby Fox put into Undertale shows.

3- The False Evolution of Execution Methods (Jacob Geller) Incredibly well researched, thought out, and presented. It would have been easy for it to just be talking about the statistics, but he does a really phenomenal job of putting them in the context of societal and technological changes and not pulling punches or being too graphic when discussing what happens when things go wrong with the different methods.

I don't want to spoil the ending, but it hit me like a ton of bricks.

Honestly the only reason it isn't higher is because it is such a heavy watch. (yes it's technically 53 minutes but I had to pause and process shit for at least seven minutes while watching it. It counts.)

4- Who Is Nazeem REALLY? Skyrim's Most HATED Character (Camelworks) I've done some deep dives into incredibly niche things, but this takes the goddamn cake. I want to study the creator like a bug. No one asked, but my god they delivered a fucking masterpiece.

5- The Most Painful Death Ever (VIEWER DISCRETION) (Wendigoon) Nuclear physics and weird medical things are both interests of mine, so I found it fascinating. That said, oh my god take the warning seriously. It was all presented very respectfully and tactfully, but the facts of the situation are intense to say the least. I'm not squicked by medical stuff in general, but some of it had me feeling truly shaken.

honorable mention for This is Financial Advice (Folding Ideas) for making cryptocurrency, both the thing itself and the culture around it, make sense to me.

[machiroads]

anirevo 2024 con report belooooooow

THURSDAY NIGHT, AUGUST 8TH

Left my office at 4:30. Took the bus to the ferry straight from work except the GODDAMN BUS DIDN'T ACTUALLY STOP TO PICK ME UP so I had to wait for the next one and missed the 6:00 ferry so I didn't get to my hotel in Vancouver until after 10pm oof

The slow bus was very nice once i got over being mad about the fast bus leaving me on read by way of listening to linkin park. It goes through some very quaint rural areas.

I purchased a can of wine on the ferry which was like $15 for 8.5oz. I don't know how I feel about this but I do feel like I got ripped off because the wine was only ok

I edited and posted ch2 of WTBL&W entirely on my phone which may or may not have been a mistake. Getting the html formatting right wasn't too bad, but editing the splash image for twitter and bsky on photopea was uhhhhhhhhh a mistake. FAFO

FRIDAY AUGUST 9TH

My hotel had one of those fancy toto washlets so you bet your ass my butt was squeaky clean all weekend

My hotel also had a room service menu that had a bowl of oatmeal for $14 as an offering. Which. No.

I got an actual breakfast at a tiny hole in the wall crepe place staffed by a single old man, then trundled over to the con to pick up my badge at like 10ish. I was in line behind a cute couple in horimiya cosplay

The first panel I actually wanted to see wasn't until like 12 so I sat on the seawalk, finished my coffee, watched floatplanes, and replied to AO3 comments. 11/10 banger morning.

I watched an improv comedy D&D skit, which was fun, then traipsed down to the exhibition hall to do Some Shopping

MERCH REPORT: nobody really had heroaca stuff? Or if they did it was just the main kids. Still lots of people with HQ stuff, which I'm encouraged to see years after its ending. I'm happy with the pin selection this year tho, I picked up some nice stuff (but I think i will need to find additional capacity on my button collection because it's p much full oops)

BONUS COSPLAY REPORT: There also weren't really any heroaca cosplayers either, i saw like 1 shinsou, a couple bkgs, and a handful of people in nonspecific UA gym uniforms. Very strange. I did, however, see like 3 Nanamis within the span of 2 minutes on Saturday. (i don't even go here re jjk but he was the basic white boy cosplay of the year)

I spent like 2 hours in the exhibition hall and my brain hurt so I got poke for lunch, went back to the hotel to eat it, then took a nap

I went back for another couple panels on Friday night (a panel with vancouver VA graham hamilton, and another improv advice panel)

SATURDAY AUGUST 10TH

I went bra shopping on saturday morning because i accidentally overstuffed my backpack last week and zipped my bra into the zipper and tore the liner whilst trying to extract it. This is not relevant to the con, however it was an important part of my weekend

There wasn't anything I wanted to see at the con in the morning so I didn't get there until like 2:00 so I could line up for the cosplay contest. I'd never been to one before, and I don't really cosplay mself, but I've recently been watching some sarah spaceman videos, so I thought it would be fun to go see a contest for the first time.

On the schedule the contest is supposed to start at 2:30. There's like 6 down-and-backs of queueing space for people waiting to get in. When I got there around 2ish there were people milling about saying they'd cut the line. I loitered a bit longer until some admin looking folk went around telling people to disperse because queueing outside of the taped off area was a "fire hazard", and to come back at 3:00 when the event started. At this point, the line of people illicitly queued for this event wrapped probably halfway around the building, and the VCC is a Large Building.

I assume the delayed start time was probably due to pre-judging going long (thank u sarah spaceman for this education i now know how cosplay contests work), so i wasn't too fussy about that, but the fire hazard thing was a little silly to me because I'd been in the exhibition hall already which to me seemed like waaaaaay more of a fire hazard than a generally orderly line. Regardless. I bummed around on the seawalk for a bit and then went back just before 3 and managed to snag a seat. The contest itself ended up being really fun, and I'm glad i stuck around for it.

I went to another 3 panels on Saturday night, all 3 of which had similar queue capacity issues, and all 3 of which started late. Again, when the panels themselves started, they were all really fun, but logistically it seemed like they had some challenges. It does feel a bit silly to complain about though when I have literally nothing else to do that weekend tho haha

I attended the Philosophy of Science in FMA and Dr Stone (TIL epistemology is a word), a panel about adaptations that are superior to the source material, and...............yaoi bedtime stories. Which was a hoot.

SUNDAY AUGUST 11TH

Kind of a chill morning. Got some goodies at a bakery for breakfast / lunch / to bring home, checked out of the hotel, then trundled over to the con.

I went to a panel that was just a bunch of tables set up with colouring sheets and books and stuff and that was super what I needed. I coloured the eeveelutions from memory (and only forgot half of their colour schemes), and then there was a little time left so I also coloured in a cardcaptor sakura.

I thought about attending cosplay life drawing afterwards but ended up just heading home after colouring since I was kind of Done after a full weekend. There was another improv dragon ball tribute scheduled, but not until like 6:30pm and if I stuck around for that I wouldn't have gotten home today lol

No bus mishaps on the way home fortunately

ANYWAYS that's all folks thanks for reading about my dramatization of what was actually a pretty chill weekend.

[fankhx-invasion]

✨Spaceman🌙

Implied Ace/Peter, aliens

┍━━━━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━━━━┑

Everything seemed to be happening so quickly, where moments ago, Peter had the television tuned to the Merv Griffin show peacefully, and now he was watching over a passed out stranger in his home. He didn't know who it was, how it was, nor what it was. Peter wasn't the biggest believer of all things supernatural, but what else could possibly explain the figure unconscious on his couch? It'd crashed into the backyard in something wrecked beyond comprehension, all of the pieces scrambled around, busted. He held his freshly brewed cup of coffee close; he was going to need the caffeine tonight. 

Peter sat in the reclining chair, just a few feet away from the couch, sipping his hot drink slowly from the mug in his hands, thinking thoughtfully. Should he call 911? Would they think he went absolutely crazy? Probably. He rubbed a hand over his face, sighing through his nose heavily. That's when he made the decision to get up and carefully walk over, really getting a look at him, now that he was indoors with better lighting. The man's skin sparkled in silvers and blues, lips black, and strange markings, almost like paint or makeup, surrounded his eyes. It had long, dark hair and ears that pointed outward. 

"I need a goddamn cigarette," Peter mumbled, shaking his head, walking out of the front door to have a smoke outside. 

The night was strangely warm at this hour, no one else was awake or seemed to have been stirred by the loud crash in Peter's backyard, earlier. A relief, really; he didn't want any of the attention on him. Especially not with a possible alien in his living room. It was the only reasonable explanation for the strange skin coloring, the broken up pieces of material, and the sudden change in air temperature. Now he really did sound crazy. He put his cigarette out, leaving the remnants in a glass ashtray and walking himself back inside. By now the alien, as he'd self determined, was stirring awake, letting out pained noises, hands moving to clutch as his head and his left side. 

"Well, damn, you're awake." Peter mumbled, frozen in place. He wasn't sure if he should make any attempt to get closer to this thing or not. 

It blinked a few times, trying to figure out where exactly it was now and where that foreign voice was coming from. It sat up slowly, letting out a pitiful whine and it clutched its side. Peter noticed his gorgeous eyes, almost like staring into a miniature galaxy behind them. 

"Uhm.. hi?" 

He looked up lazily at Peter, and now he could take in this strange silver and black outfit the.. spaceman.. was wearing. But what struck him the most was that it seemed more afraid of Peter than Peter was of it. Peter made careful and cautious steps towards the alien, who seemed to be shaking now in fear. 

"Easy there, I'm not gonna hurt ya." He put his hands up slowly, finally standing right in front of him, curiously looking at his reactions, making an effort to not alarm him any further. He slowly lowered down to the floor, easing his body between the alien's legs; it looked intimate enough. His eyes flicked over to where its hands were. 

"Can I see?"

It looked at him hesitantly, seemingly understanding Peter, but it just couldn't respond, for what reason, Peter was unsure of. He slowly pulled his hands away, revealing the bit of his outfit that had ripped just enough to show the scrapes he'd received, yet instead of red blood, it was a strange, blue hue. All things considered, the injury was not that bad, but the alien most likely had a low pain tolerance.

"Come with me." 

He stood up, extending his hand out for the alien to grab. It gently placed its hand with long, black nails into his, getting up with Peter's support and leaning against his side. He was much taller than Peter, even now when he was slightly slumped over, maybe six feet tall or more. Peter helped guide it to the bathroom, rustling through a drawer for some bandaids. 

"This might seem weird, but I'm going to need you to remove your top, do you understand that?" 

The alien didn't respond, tilting his head to the side slightly. Peter sighed, pulling on the black fabric. 

"Off." 

He definitely understood that now, unzipping it from the back and starting to pull off the whole thing. Peter felt his face get hot, especially seeing that this alien was completely naked in front of him. From what he got a glimpse of, he was definitely confused on the gender of this thing now, and it was strangely attractive looking. 

"Oh jeez.." he looked away, cheeks still burning, grabbing a washcloth to clean up the injury, then placing bandaids over the areas quickly. 

"Okay uh.. I'll go get you some clothes, and we can fix your.. space suit.. another day." Peter told him, leaving the bathroom momentarily to grab something loose and easy, like shorts and a shirt. 

When he returned, he found the alien fascinated with the mirror, touching the glass, wide eyed. It was almost like it was trying to comprehend the material, how it seemed to just reflect his every move flawlessly. 

"I uh, hope these fit ya." 

He turned his head to look at Peter, taking the clothes and putting them on just fine on his own; it was very similar to putting on his normal clothes! He was delighted by the fabric, how soft and gentle it was on his skin, and it smelled like the human, making his head spin. The alien was so happy with them, he never wanted to take these new clothes off. 

It didn't take long for him to get settled in, Peter making him a little bed on his couch, feeding him new foods that he was so excited about. Apparently, it really loved pasta and coffee, since that's what Peter could provide at such a late hour. New flavors and scents were filling the alien's senses, and he was excited. By now he was just looking and touching everything to learn about it from Peter, like drums, books, his coat, and now, playing cards. 

"You play games with them. Like.. poker, rummy, blackjack.." 

The alien let out a pleased noise, cooing at the cards and looking through them. He didn't understand a single thing about them, but he loved how they looked, showing each one to Peter for more information about them.

"That's an ace. Ace of hearts." 

Oh how he loved this new playing card object! And its silly name too. 

"Ya know.. you need a name. I can't just keep callin' you alien. What about Ace? Like your card there." 

He was absolutely starstruck, gasping and staring down at the card and then Peter, letting out the most excited, squeaky noise he could, eyes glowing, quite literally, from the pure joy. Ace loved his new name, oh he loved it so, so much! He was definitely going to enjoy spending his time here on Earth with Peter. 

┕━━━━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━━━━┙

[strictlybecca]

Hey I love you!! Have you considered writing Donna Noble organizing 14th doctor’s first official family birthday party? What about Joe and Nicky cooking together? Buck and Eddie clothes sharing?

hi bb i love you!!!! 💕 thanks for filling my brain with all the best thoughts, you are the goddamn best. here's the doctor's first birthday with the noble-temple crew:

It’s honestly the look on the Doctor’s face when he steps into the back garden and sees old friends and new (he and Ms. Tabitha from down the road have taken to sharing gardening tips and shortbread recipes) and the darling little bunting Rose made to loop around the pergola and the carrot cake Shaun baked that afternoon with fourteen sparkle candles sticking out jauntily. (Crookedly, Donna thinks, but knows the Doctor will think they’re perfect.)

Donna rather hates that she’s become a happy crier, but seeing her little family so ridiculously pleased and smug, seeing the Doctor beaming his stupid little face off - it’s all a bit too much. She pretends she’s just futzing with her mascara but waves her mum off when it looks like she might come over to pester her. Instead, she lets herself just look.

Rose is grinning madly with her arm linked through the Doctor’s as Shaun claps him on the back and gives him a good shake. She can’t hear what they’re all saying, but they all break into the kind of giggles that are so common in her house these days. (“Oi,” she’ll end up yelling up the stairs, hearing their laughter from a floor away, “Can we cackle as we wash our hands? Dinner’s ready and it’s getting cold!”)

“You,” the Doctor says accusatorially, when she finally wanders over, his face twisted up in her favorite of his little boy gleeful smiles. “You did this.”

“I helped,” she allows with a shrug, looking self-satisfied and not trying to hide it in the slightest. “But it was Rose’s idea. And Shaun insisted on the surprise bit. I’m mostly shocked neither of them spoiled it.”

“They have been running around furtively for the past few days,” the Doctor agrees. “I just assumed they were trying to hide something from you.”

“Pfft. They know better by now.” They fall into a comfortable kind of silence that comes easier these days, watching as Mel and Wilfred share a grin over some glasses of lemonade and as Sylvia and Shaun bicker lightly over how to cut the cake. “Still good, Spaceman?” she asks quietly, nudging him with her elbow. She’s not asking about the party, but she knows he knows that.

It’s been about a year since he came to stay and although she’s loved every second of it - though teaching the Doctor to do laundry was a nightmare none of them ever want to repeat - she still worries. (Eyeing Sylvia fussing over Rose halfway across the yard, she sighs. She comes by it honestly at least.)

“Oh Donna,” he says, turning to look at her directly, his face in a kind of helpless grin. She can tell he got a little too much sun last weekend at the beach and there are freckles dotted across his cheeks that she’s not sure she’s seen before. His eyes crinkle up at the corners and there’s a spot on his jaw where he missed shaving. He looks a little like a nutter, to be honest, in his suit vest and slippers, but she loves him unreasonably. “It’s the best.”

“Of course it is,” she sniffs, cracking a smile only when he loops an arm around her shoulders and drags her in to his side. They watch the party like that for a little while longer, knowing they have all the time in the world to stand and let their wobbly blue planet spin and their days slip idly by.

[exsqueezememacaroni]

Yes, Mike Patton is bloody gorgeous with the sexiest voice ever, we know. But does he have to be so goddamn hilarious and witty?! Which, of course makes him attractive on a stratospheric level. I hate him. (no, I'm not)

Mike is a special delight for us mortals. Otherworldly, he is.

well, he is your neighborhood spaceman.

ah, it IS the wit, and the humility, and the soft (and intense) eyes, and the geekiness, and the laugh, and the...yes.

this guy

[skycapt4in]

THINGS YOUR MUSE WILL NOTICE ABOUT MINE. ( repost, don't reblog. )

what they look like : He's average height for a human man, coming in at 5'11. He's also built like a small brick house, not sculpted but just beefy because it's useful for his lifestyle. In his later years you might notice the white streak in his hair first before anything, in his youth you'd notice how small he looked because the guild didn't have clothing and gear that was a good fit for a squishy human, so he opted for bigger options.

what they smell like :ㅤ Noah has a cologne made from a very strong, very stubborn root on Cryon that smells almost exactly like spiced apples. the man constantly smells like a goddamn Christmas candle. If he's been busy at work then he'll smell like engine oil and that sort of burnt ozone smell? You ever had your hand on one of those decorative plasma balls for a while and noticed that after a while it starts to smell kinda burnt and metallic? Yeah that's what I imagine the residue for his blasty weapons smells like.

what they taste like :ㅤ Spicy peppers OR sugar. He has two flavours he likes and his diet consists of spicy or sugar at the minute.

what they sound like : Like his fc but specifically when Richard is playing Ika.ris in The Eter.nals. It's the closest I'm going to get to a spaceman with an oddly Scots accent despite never growing up there.

what they feel like :ㅤ He runs cold and he hates it </3 He somewhat made it worse because he doesn't rush to take care of himself when he gets wounded, and has done damage to his nerve endings and.. he may have had a few unhealthy habits in his younger years that had the side effect of messing w/ his circulation. He's a cold handed bastard.

tagged by : yoinked it from bun <3 tagging : yoink it from me ;D

[carewyncromwell]

"I'm not here for your entertainment -- You don't really want to mess with me tonight! Just stop and take a second -- I was fine before you walked into my life! ‘Cause you know it's over before it began... Keep your drink -- just give me the money -- It's just you and your hand tonight!”

~“U + Ur Hand” by P!nk

x~x~x~x

Honeydukes was bustling one morning in the summer of 1990. Thanks to a recent collaboration with Florean Fortescue, Honeydukes had developed a fabulous new No-Melt Ice Cream, and it was selling out left, right, and center. Honeydukes’s owner, Ambrosius Flume, and his wife Jenie were so occupied with ringing up customers that they didn’t have much time for conversing and chatting as much as they would like. Perhaps this is why they didn’t take notice of the stocky eighteen-year-old young man with messy dark curls ducking through the crowds and making his way over to the slightly ajar door marked “employees only” at the back of the store -- nor of him peeking through so as to look at the storeroom and kitchen on the other side. 

Someone else did, though. And that “someone” was Ambrosius’s second daughter and Honeydukes’s resident chocolatier, Mia. 

She had been amiably chatting and laughing with a friend who’d popped in for a visit by the door when she noticed him -- and upon catching sight of him, her brows came down over her green eyes in suspicion.

Who...?

Quickly but politely putting an end to her conversation, the blond-haired young woman swept through the crowds with a bit more difficulty, trying to cut across the store. The strange young man was actively propping open the door now and looking around in wide-eyed curiosity --

“Hey!” Mia called ahead.

You’re not allowed in there! she was ready to add, but before she could properly verbalize it, she was suddenly inhaled by a crowd of about twenty people, all of whom had rushed to form a messy line up to the counter to get their own cone of No-Melt Ice Cream. Once Mia had dislodged herself, the young man was gone.

Her heart leaping into her throat in both anxiety and righteous anger, Mia forcibly pushed through the crowd with some very pointed “excuse me’s” until she finally reached the other side of the room. She slammed open the “employees only” door, her posture very authoritative and her voice very sharp as she barked,

“What are you doing in here?”

The young man looked up, startled. And when their eyes met, sharp green on hollowed-out, almond-shaped blue, Mia abruptly straightened up, her entire posture tensing up like a cat with its fur on end. 

That face -- 

It couldn’t be, could it? After so many years...and looking just the same -- like something out of an old photograph -- 

Yet it was. And that face contorted with perfectly innocent surprise before bursting into a brilliant, boyish smile.

“Oh, whoops! Guess I sort of strutted in without being invited, eh?” he said with a laugh. “Sorry -- I was just looking to talk to whomever was making the ice cream...reckon they must be out to lunch or something...”

He indicated the small cauldron, cans of ingredients, and multiple mixing bowls set up on the counter. 

“I at first presumed the ‘No-Melt’ aspect had to be thanks to an old-fashioned Freezing Charm,” he prattled on, seemingly completely oblivious to Mia’s shocked, bewildered expression. “But then I realized no, if it was, you’d probably freeze it solid, or at the very least, you’d lose some of that texture. You’d undoubtedly see evidence of ice chips in the finished product, which you can’t -- it’s really quite smooth, from what I can see, like a proper soft-serve should be. I considered that perhaps one could Transfigure the ice cream, so as to imbue it with the proper qualities...but then I saw the miniature cauldron in here, and I realized -- of course! Potioneering would be a perfect solution, to such a problem. Why, what are potions if not magical chemistry -- and what’s cooking if not edible chemistry?”

His skull-like blue eyes were alight with eagerness. 

“Would your Potioneer be available later, to discuss this further?” he said brightly. “I’d love to hear more about their methods -- ”

It was at this point that -- at long last -- Mia had collected herself enough to lash out. 

“Get -- out,” she cut in very fiercely. 

She pulled out her wand, fully prepared to grab the curly-haired man with a proper Incarcerous and yank him right out of the backroom. Before her spell could land, though, the young man had sidestepped it, making it instead grab at one of the glass jars, which was then flung forward and smashed to the floor. Mia tried again, chucking several more spells to bind, disarm, and Stun him, all of which he seemingly just as effortlessly blocked. 

“Oi!” said the man, taken aback. “Take it easy -- ”

Mia got so impatient that she actually reached out as if to grab the younger man and throw him out with her own hands. 

“I said get out!”

But somehow, the man ducked her arms, coming out from under her and straightening up with the kind of baffled expression one might see on a dog being commanded to do a trick he didn’t know. 

“Whoa, sunshine, cool your jets!” he said with a bewildered smile. “I’m not gonna hurt you or anything -- ”

“Don’t patronize me!” 

Mia lashed out with several more spells, which -- to her utter frustration -- he all just as effortlessly blocked. 

“You are trespassing in my father’s store, in my kitchen -- an area where you’re objectively not allowed -- trying to sniff out secret information about products that are the sole property of my family’s business! I don’t give a damn about whether you plan to hurt anyone or not -- you are getting the HELL out of here, right now, or I’m calling the bloody Auror Department on you, Jacob Cromwell!”

Once he’d finished wordlessly transfiguring the ropes she’d conjured into ribbons with an idle flick of his wrist, Jacob straightened up slightly, interested. 

“You know me?” he asked, his face still touched by that maddening kind of innocent, boyish curiosity. 

“Of course I know you,” Mia said coldly. “We were in the same bloody class -- at least until you up and vanished, dealing with those stupid Vaults...”

Jacob blinked. “Really?”

Mia raised her eyebrows coolly. “Should I be flattered that you don’t recognize me? Maybe this might help -- Dueling Club, fifth year? You used Ferula to wrap me up in bandages like a mummy and threw me backward right into a suit of armor.” 

Jacob considered this story and the cursive “Hermia” nametag pinned to the front of Mia’s apron for a moment. Then his eyes drifted up toward the ceiling absently.

“...Huh. I don’t really remember that...”

Mia looked like she wanted to crack Jacob’s head open on her kitchen counter. She settled for trying to grab his shoulder -- this time, she actually managed to make contact, since because Jacob hadn’t been looking at her.

“Well, I do -- ”

She used the grip to yank Jacob roughly back toward the door and throw him out of the backroom. 

“-- and I don’t want to see you anywhere near my family’s shop again,” she spat. “Do I make myself clear?”

Jacob looked incredibly confused, to the point of almost looking remorseful. 

“What? Oh, come on...” 

He struggled to articulate his thoughts for a minute, before offering a weak smile. 

“Look -- I’m sorry for not remembering you and all, and I know my reputation isn’t all that great...I’m still trying to set my life right, after everything,” he added as a mumble, “but well, I wasn’t looking to steal your family’s secrets or whatever. I just heard about your new ice cream and thought it sounded really cool, so I wanted to know how it worked -- ”

Mia’s expression grew a bit darker, gaining a more cynical smile. 

“Oh, sure -- that’s your excuse for everything, isn’t it? You just wanna know. It doesn’t matter what rules you break, or what anyone else says, you just gotta know, and that’s all that matters...well, guess what, Cromwell -- you can’t know this. And you’re not going to.”

Jacob frowned. “Why? Because I beat you in a duel when we were kids?”

“Because I’m not going to reward you for sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong!” Mia snapped back. 

She got right up in his face. It wasn’t hard to do -- Jacob Cromwell hadn’t grown taller than 5′7″, and Mia herself had always been slightly above average height.

“I figured it out all on my own, Cromwell,” she hissed at him coldly. “Maybe you could too, if you actually put in the work, instead of just dancing through without even trying.”

With this, Mia brought her hands up as if to shove Jacob back. Before she could reach him, though, Jacob stepped back instantly, avoiding her touch all together.

“You don’t have to slam the door in my face,” he said, raising his eyebrows coolly. “If you want me to leave, you could just say so.”

Mia’s face flushed bright red in frustration. She couldn’t keep herself from baring her teeth like an angry dog. 

“I’ve already told you to get out twice,” she said at last, once she’d reestablished a grip on her temper. 

Jacob shrugged. “Guess you did, yeah. I’d kind of been hoping to calm you down at the time, but...”

Tucking his wand back in his pocket with a sigh, he turned on his heel as if to go.

“Oh well...guess I never have been as good as my Pip, when it comes to dealing with people’s emotions. Nice meeting you again, I guess!”

With an offhand little wave over his shoulder, Jacob disappeared back into the throng of customers. 

Mia felt like steam was coming up off her head as she watched him go, her green eyes boring like daggers into his back. She felt like that steam surely must’ve been visible, when her mother Jenie came up alongside her and took hold of her shoulder. 

“Mia dear, there you are,” she said in a rather fussy, but still fond kind of voice. “Cornelius Fudge’s nephew’s here, to sample your newest chocolate -- quite a handsome lad, I must say...”

The older woman noticed Mia’s laser-pointed focus, though, and upon following it, she just barely made out the silhouette of Jacob Cromwell taking one last look around Honeydukes before giving a small sigh and heading out.

“Is that Rosmerta’s new bartender?” said Mrs. Flume, her eyebrows raised.

Mia looked at her mother, scandalized. “Bartender?”

“Yes -- apparently he’s working at the Three Broomsticks to pay his living expenses, until he can sit for his NEWTs up at the school next spring. Suppose once he does that, he might be able to get a better paying job...I gather from Rosmerta the lad’s a bright sort -- ”

“Doubtful,” Mia said scornfully. “Jacob Cromwell may be bright, but he’s also completely insufferable. I think it’d be a wonder if any employer in the world could tolerate him.”

Mrs. Flume blinked twice very quickly. “Jacob Cromwell? You mean that boy who disappeared without a word in your sixth year, while chasing Hogwarts’s Cursed Vaults? Well now, that’s a name I haven’t heard in a while...”

“And hopefully we never will again,” Mia said with a very dry smile. 

She swept over behind the counter so she could slide out the empty tray of No-Melt Ice Cream sundaes out of the display case.

“I’d better get back to work,” she said, forcing a slightly more resilient smile on her face. “How are we doing on the mint chocolate chip?”

“Well enough for now,” said Mrs. Flume distractedly, “but...oh, can’t you put that down for a moment, dear? I was really hoping to introduce you to Minister Fudge’s nephew. He’s newly 28, so he’s only a couple of years older than you...certainly more in your age range than Florean Fortescue -- ”

“Mum, the shop needs more stock,” Mia said very coolly. “I’m afraid my dating life will have to wait.”

“But your dating life could help the business!” Mrs. Flume said eagerly. “Why, think of how much business Dirk’s helped drum up for us, since marrying your sister...just think of how much money we could bring in, if you joined the Minister’s family! Even the name sort of fits, doesn’t it? Hermia Fudge?”

Mia couldn’t bite back a loud laugh. “Mum! I’m not marrying a bloke for his last name! I’ll marry him for his good looks and charm, regret it immediately, and then divorce him, like normal women do.”

Her mouth spread into a cheeky, sarcastic smile, she retreated into the backroom before her mother could raise any further objections. 

Mia set down the tray at the side of the counter, before rolling up her sleeve and brushing off her apron.

“Okay,” she said, clapping her hands together as she considered the ingredients she’d put down, “round two.”

With a slightly sunnier expression, Mia set about mixing the whole milk, condensed milk, cream, sugar, salt, eggs, cocoa powder, semisweet chocolate, and vanilla together in the bowl, a song grazing her lips absently as she did so.

“Dah dop, dah dum -- hang up the phone To let me know you made it home... Da da da-la-da...with Part-Time Lover...”

The funky Muggle tune -- and the ease with which Mia could groove along to it while mixing the ingredients in her mixing bowl and her cauldron -- made it a little easier to put the absolutely infuriating revelation of Jacob Cromwell’s return to her life out of her mind...at least for a little while. 

[comets-nix]

Tommy on Cameo pt 2, wow what a sweet pea🥺

[jeroazu-archive]

My family’s watching buzz lightyear & I thought this was a funny little action spaceman movie that andy loved. this is so goddamn depressing what the hell.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

SDRA2 HCs: S/O saving their Partner from being the Blackened

(Contains Ch 1-4 spoilers! I’ll add Ch 5 once I’ve finished it!)

.............

Hajime

The boxer got the alcohol and water mixed up even for himself, and that's pretty much where his plan to kill Yuri ends.

Though he still tries taking him to the bell tower but you--being the sober one--sees them and escort the two to their rooms.

"The Monocruise is this way, ya goofballs." You’re just amused as the spaceman clings to Hajime's back, making life easier for you.

Once he's in bed you get your bf to his room, though as you take off his shades for him you notice he's crying. 

"What's wrong?"

"I-I promised myself I'd never get drunk. I made a-a...lifetime commitment to never drinking a-again but...I-I broke that promise and disappointed everyone!!"

You just sigh and reassure him you aren't disappointed, though he keeps blubbering about how he intended to do something "really really bad" and he freaks himself out more.

So you just cuddle with him and eventually fall asleep once he's done sobbing. But you did hear something about being with Void and “betraying you”, which is concerning.

You hope it’s just the alcohol talking.

Emma

It's all a matter of perfect timing as you find Emma during the concert--only to see her screaming her head off at a confused and worried Kokoro.

You recognize it as one of her meltdowns, so you're quick to rush to her aid, taking her away from the excitement and closer to the water while the psychologist ran to find Teruya.

She's still in an angry panic, but once she calms down several minutes later (despite shaking a little), you softly ask her what happened.

"K-Kokoro..she's---a-accusing me of being with Void..a-and..."

"Are you, Emma? Please tell me the truth."

For a moment she's silent, scared of what you'd say next, before nodding as she saw no way out of this.

But you reassure her she doesn't have to commit murder. You won't let her, and you promise to protect her from Mikado if need be.

After that you two just cuddle in one of the rooms to help her relax, and there she talks more about what Kokoro said that made her freak out.

Eventually you will make her apologize for making Emma have a panic attack but for now you just want your gf to be okay.

Hibiki & Kanade

Hibiki's e-handbook blips with a message from you right as she and Kanade are about to stab Setsuka, obviously making the billiards player notice them.

The twins run away as Kanade snaps at her for ruining their plan.

But they bump into you waiting right outside the pool area, looking more like a disappointed parent than their s/o.

Being with the twins for so long, you’ve taken notice of Hibiki’s puppet-like state and calmly snap her out of it--to which she’s confused and panic-striken when she sees a knife in her hands.

“Wh-What...? What a-are we...?”

Still Kanade is pissed off at you for being the reason her plan was ruined, and she tries attacking you.

Fortunately you were prepared for this reaction, so you sedate her with the same type of drug Hajime used on Yuri on the first island.

When Hibiki asks, you regrettably explain what her sister intended to do and she starts sobbing, yelling at the currently unconscious twin.

From then on, she stays with you--terrified to be alone with her sister after what she tried to do to you.

And it turns out Kanade never cared about you--only her sister and just tolerated you to make her happy. But now that you’re an “obstacle” who’s destroying their relationship, you’ll have to watch your back.

Shinji (True Blackened)

You're horrified to see Nikei laying on the ground while your boyfriend has blood gushing down his neck.

But rather than assume the worst, you quickly tended to Shinji's neck wounds with gauze you had. You brought them in case anybody got hurt while exploring the tower.

You took him to the infirmary, demanding to know what the hell happened.

And he explains what happened between him, Nikei, and Yuki--suspecting that the journalist tried to make his little bro a murderer by killing him for reasons unknown right now.

You're livid, obviously, though Shinji is unusually calm as he hugs you and reassures you he's okay--thanks to you he's alive and probably would’ve done something he regretted had you not saved him.

Right on cue Yuki runs in, sobbing in relief and apologizing to both of you a thousand times. 

He even offers to let you both punch him but nah you just hug him.

Nikei (Mastermind of 4th Case)

You beat Yuki to the punch and see Shinji and your unconscious bf, horrified at first.

But you see the taser and believe Shinji when he claims Nikei tazed himself. So you take him to the infirmary, where he wakes up in confusion.

The urge to slap him is immeasurable but you keep calm and ask him why he did that to himself and tried framing Shinji.

He's stubborn about telling you, but after enough pestering he eventually shouts that he could've stopped Mikado's plan but it was your fault he failed.

Then he realizes his mistake, and you try not to get too upset, knowing he was just frustrated.

You insist that more killing wasn't going to stop Mikado's plan. And you didn't want to lose him even if he's convinced his fate was sealed the moment he defected--

Wait...is he crying?

"E-Everything I try to do keeps getting ruined! If it wasn't for that goddamn son of a bitch NONE OF THIS WOULD BE HAPPENING!!" His eyes are glowing red with tears flowing down his cheeks. "I should've stayed leader! It should be me instead of him!! Without him w-we...we could've had a normal life..that’s a-all I want, s/o.."

Now you understand. He wants to sabotage Mikado's plans to end this nightmare sooner, just so you two could escape and live as a normal, happy couple.

Even if you had no idea why he’d use Shinji, you just hold him and let him cry out all his frustration. You'll be sure he apologized to him later, but for now comforting him was priority.

[girldraki]

SORRY I THOUGHT IT WAS THE GODDAMN SPACEMAN

[kaitosimp]

No shush listen to me.

Kaito Momota did NOT catch a break during the fifth chapter. LIKE AT ALL. He DID NOT GET A BREAK.

Kaito had to KILL KOKICHI. He was left to clean/perfect the crime scene (since most of the death was staged to be the perfect crime). He was left to discard evidence. HE HAD LIMITED TIME TO DO ALL THIS. He had to follow Kokichis plan with absolutely no time to prepare for it. He had to IMPERSONATE Kokichi. Trick his FRIENDs into thinking he DIED. He had to cause the two people who actually gave a fuck about him TOTAL DISTRESS. All while he was HURT and sick and DYING!!!

Listen let’s just say he adapted VERY well to that situation. I couldn’t even imagine being in that situation at all.

I think that just proves that he’s amazing.

*slaps table aggresively in agreement* HELL YEAH HE'S AMAZING, THIS IS EVEN MORE PROOF OF IT 😭😭😭😭😭

I think Kaito's said it that an astronaut always has to be prepared for any situation and that they have to act quickly and well under pressure/emergency situations, I think the whole hangar situation is a perfect example of that and just how he's capable of adapting and overcoming the bad circumstances to push forward 😭

Just thinking about it makes me so sad: just imagine Kaito after killing Kokichi, probably having 0 time to dwell on the fact he just fucking murdered Kokichi cause he had to carry on the plan, having to push forward to stage the scene and get everything ready while he was coughing his lungs out, it was just him and that damn bloody press and that alone would've sent anyone spiralling but nah, like you said, spaceman hustled on and staged the scene, discarded evidence, learned how to impersonate Kokichi in record time, forced himself to lie and trick his friends, all wHILE DYING AND THEN HE WAS CRAMPED INTO THE EXISAL WHILE STILL DYING

When you think about all these factors, it's actually so impressive how he pulled it all off despite Kokichi only letting him in on the plan at the last minute and I think that kind of gets overlooked easily??? bUT OFC, HIM DYING IS A DAMN TRAGEDY, HE RLLY COULDN'T CATCH A BREAK 😭😭😭😭😭

SO YEAH, HE RLLY IS AMAZING AND HE DOESN'T GET ENOUGH CREDIT AND HE DESERVES THE WORLD AND I WILL FUCKING DIE ON THIS HILL GODDAMN IT

[fankhx-invasion]

Bad news: the forbidden Ace cheese block Sandwich has me craving cheese and I don't have any

[raspberry-starship]

Start reading the series here.

Masterlist for this book is here.

Read by scrolling up the tag here.

The first thing Sam felt when he awoke was a sense of utter fogginess, completely at a loss for where he was, why he’d gone unconscious, and that he had places to be. This only lasted a split second, and then he was lurching forwards instinctively, adrenaline back up. He jerked to a halt, his hands tied behind his back.

“Welcome back, Spaceman.” Someone grumbled behind him.

He blinked and turned to try and look over his shoulder. A heavy, square column of wood blocked his view so all he could see was her upper arm. He sighed and faced forwards again.

“Careful.” She said when his hands put strain on the ropes holding him, “They tied our hands so they’re right next to each other’s asses. I’m having a great day, if you were wondering.” She added sarcastically.

He immediately grew stock-still, very concerned about the position of his hands and also of the proximity of hers. “How long have we been down here, d’you know?”

He heard a shift as she shook her head. “I woke up like ten minutes ago.”

He sighed and began to squirm.

She scowled a little, turning her head. “What’re you doing.”

“I’m trying to get the—” He grimaced as he bent one of his legs under him, trying to stretch so his ankle would be close enough for his hand to reach it. His voice was strained as he spoke, “—Ugh! I’ve got a knife in my—ugh—sock.”

He let out a defeated puff of air—he wasn’t going to be able to bend like this. He wasn’t wearing the world’s most accommodating pants for such activities, and the awkwardness of the angle caused a shooting pain up his side. He tried once more and failed, letting out an exasperated huff.

“For fuck’s fucking sake.” Sadie muttered to herself, just loud enough for him to hear.

“Hey, I’m trying, okay?!” He snapped.

“I wasn’t talking about you, Sam.” She bit back.

“What is it, huh?” He asked, suddenly more focused on this conversation than on getting free. “You think this is somehow my fault?”

She rolled her eyes and he didn’t need to see her to know it. “I’d say that the dummy who shows his whole hand is somewhat to blame for us being trapped, yeah!”

It was his turn to roll his eyes and let out a sigh of exasperation. “I didn’t think it through, alright? You happy?”

She let out a small scoff. “No. We are nowhere near even.”

“Why?” He asked incredulously.

“Because now that you’ve gotten us into this damn situation, I’m gonna have to sit through you blindly groping up my thigh to get my knife out of the bike shorts I’m wearing under this goddamn dress—which, by the way,” She continued, blissfully unaware of the look of complete and utter shock and embarrassment on Sam’s face, “I just bought, and now look where we are!”

He swallowed, not having heard any of that last part. “You—… you can bend your leg like that?”

“Tch!” She scoffed, some shuffling starting behind him, “Of course I can. Statistically, the taller you are the less flexible you are, so I practice.”

“What?” He wrinkled his nose incredulously, “I’ve never heard that.”

“Yeah, well, clearly y’ don’t know everything.” She replied before letting out a grunt, “Fucking hell I’m gonna pull a muscle doing this.”

“Well, better that than being dead!” He sassed back.

“Be quiet I’m trying to focus.”

He let out a huff of annoyance and rolled his eyes.

There was a lot of shifting behind him. Her elbow bumped into his side aggressively and he let out a noise.

“Oh, get over it.” She muttered.

He opened his mouth to say something snarky back at her when suddenly a black ballet flat appeared in his periphery. His whole body went rigid, suddenly reminded of what he was going to have to do. As her foot continued to stretch further, his brows rose, absolutely taken aback by the skill.

She stopped moving, her foot beside his knee. When she spoke next, it was to let out another strained curse. He couldn’t see this, but she was straining to lean sideways against the pole, trying to angle her butt away from his hands. Her wrists ached like hell but she didn’t relax, just took a deep breath and set her expression.

“Okay.” She said, the labor she was putting into this position clearly audible in her voice. “I’ve turned my hips so your…” She squinted over her shoulder, “…left hand is closest.”

“Uh—uh, okay.” He swallowed, “What, uh, what do you want me to do first?”

“You gotta—” She winced as a new twinge of pain shot up her arm, “—you gotta ruck up the skirt.”

“What?” His nose wrinkled in confusion.

“Hike the dress up, Spaceman.” She sighed, half exasperated and half-amused despite her deep annoyance.

“Oh, right.” He felt heat rushing to his cheeks and then cleared his throat, focusing up.

His hand very slowly loosened from the fist he’d been keeping it in for the past two minutes. When his fingers were three-fourths of the way extended, he brushed into the chiffon. He jumped like it had been conducting an electrical current. She let out a soft sigh of laughter despite herself, making him relax a little.

“Okay, uh,” He cleared his throat again, sounding stiff, “I’m gonna, uh, do it. now.”

“Go for it.”

He took a breath and didn’t move, then glanced over his shoulder. “I’m sorry we have to do it this way, Sadie, I don’t want to… I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

She let out a good-natured sigh. “Well, better you than Thatcher.”

“Pft.” Sam raised his brows in agreement, beginning to tug the skirt, “Yeah the way he talked to you was…”

“…Disrespectful?” She suggested, falling into the well-meant trap of his that was to get her talking to release some of the tension in the room, “Like I was simultaneously territory to be marked and also a wayward temptress on the hunt for whomever unless you ‘kept’ me?”

He let out a small sigh of laughter, smiling to himself at her anger. “Yeah, or that look he gave you.”

“Oh, you mean the shameless tit-stare? That look?” She asked abruptly.

“Ha!” Sam barked out a laugh in response, still tugging the dress up. “Yeah, that one.”

“Ugh.” She rolled her eyes, “You know what? I’m so sick of it, I mean, I get it! They’re there! They’re very much there.” Sadie wore exclusively non-underwire bras, so there wasn’t an exact sizing like original-flavored bras, but for context’s sake, she wears an extra-large bralette. “And listen, I won’t say that I don’t look at cleavage recreationally sometimes, but could ‘ya at least try to hide it?!”

Sam chuckled, “What was with naming me Wes Prism?”

She snorted, “I dunno, they all have weird names and ‘prism’ was the first thing that came to mind.”

He let out a soft sigh of laughter then cut himself off—he’d just touched skin as he’d gone to reach for the next bit of the skirt. The tension was suddenly back with full force, surrounding them in a suffocating silence. Both of them swallowed and tried their best to make their voices sound level.

“I—uh…” Sam paused to marshal his thoughts into order, “I’m gonna need you to tell me where to go—I don’t want to, uh, have to, um, touch you more than I have to.”

“Oh, what? You afraid I’ll give you cooties?” She tried to joke but even to him, it sounded thin and wispy by the end.

She was clearly very tense, and as opposed to deciphering the true reason why—it was a general anxiety and slight excitement (despite trying to tell herself to stay focused) about his hands on her—he took her tone to mean that she was extremely uncomfortable. Internally, something in him wilted at that thought, and he vowed silently to get this over with as quickly as possible for her.

Neither of them could bear to speak as he bent his wrist. His fingers dragged across the plush curve of her upper thigh, grazing over the soft flesh and tickling her leg hair. It was only for a split second, really, but something about it made the moment feel a lot longer to the both of them.

His hand then brushed over the hem of her shorts. As his hand brushed against a lump in the fabric that he was pretty sure was the edge of her panties beneath the skin-tight shorts, he swallowed, forcing himself to move on quickly. His knuckles bumped into a much larger and stiffer lump near her hip when he reached the point at which he could no longer move any further.

“Fuck,” He muttered in annoyance, “I’m sorry, you’re gonna need to turn a bit more—”

“—Yeah,” She barely breathed, a heavy flush in her cheeks that he was oblivious to. She shifted, wincing deeply and pushing her leg to stretch out farther.

His brows rose again, “Holy shit, Sadie.”

“Oh, yeah, you know,” She squeezed her eyes shut and sounded quite pained, “I try my best.”

He let out a soft breath of laughter, his fingers trying to get a good hold of the end of the knife, which stuck out the top of her spandex.

“You got it?” She asked in a strained voice.

“Yeah—” He wrinkled his nose and furrowed his brow as he focused on maneuvering the switchblade out of her shorts.

When it slipped from the elastic, the force made him lose his grip. The knife fell to the cement floor with a soft clatter.

“Oh fuck—” He ground out, twisting his arm around to feel around for it.

“You got it?” She asked again, sounding a bit out of breath.

“Yeah—yeah.” He said a bit triumphantly before she heard the soft shck! of the knife popping open. Through teeth gritted from focus he reaffirmed, “Yeah, I got it.”

She nodded a bit awkwardly, unsure of how else to answer. As he sawed through the rope keeping his wrists together, she pulled her leg back, letting out an exhausted noise as she relaxed again. He smirked as she muttered another curse and then he felt the tension disappear from the twine on his hands.

“Ha!” He said softly, pulling his hands away and getting up into a squat.

Without taking time to remove the rest of his ropes, he sliced through hers in one go, much more effective now that he wasn’t at an awkward angle. Still, however, it was an impressive feat, making his brows rise.

“Wow. This thing is sharp.” He commented.

She let out a tired sigh of laughter, getting to her feet with a groan. As she stretched, her back still facing him she explained, “Mm, there’s, uh, this girl on YouTube who lives on a farm in rural China—”

Finally, she turned to face him, the light illuminating her. His brows rose in surprise—there, on her cheek was a yellow and purple bruise, just shy of her eye.

“—on a farm and she’s got this big knife that is so sharp she can slice like a quarter of a centimeter slices of beef, and so now I’ve decided that I won’t stop until all of my knives are that sharp.” She finished, though he didn’t hear any of it.

Without thinking he stepped closer, a concerned frown on his face.

“Sadie, your face!” He lamented softly, cocking his head to the side to look at her properly.

“Oh, is it showing?” She asked casually, letting him gently tilt her head to look at it in the light. “I wasn’t sure it would bruise but it’s hurt like a bitch since you elbowed me in the face.”

“What?!” He shrunk back slightly, stricken.

“You didn’t notice that?” She leaned away from him a bit in reproach.

“No, I—” He cut himself off then started over, “Wha—what happened?”

She sighed, reaching out to take her knife from his hand.

“Well, when the dude grabbed me and you went into your Jason Borne fugue-state,” She said, casually hiking up her skirt to tuck the knife away again. Immediately he averted his eyes, but she continued on like nothing was changed, “your punch must’a landed kinda weird because your elbow thwacked me, that’s why I snapped at you.”

“You snapped at me?” He frowned.

“Yeah, like right after it happened.” She frowned back at him, letting her skirt fall down now that she had tucked the knife away. “You didn’t hear that?”

He glanced away, brow furrowed, “No, I, uh… I guess not.”

There was a beat of silence and then she raised her brows. Contrary to the fiery response they were both expecting, she found herself asking her next question tenderly.

“Was…” She swallowed, both of them avoiding each other’s eyes, “…was it because you were worried about me?”

His gaze flickered up to her. She was looking away shyly, almost a bit sad in her manner.

“I, uh, I don’t know.” He said, trying to sound normal, “I just… I didn’t think, I just acted.”

She nodded slowly, clearly considering something she wanted to broach with him. Instead of doing that, though, she took a deep breath and set her expression, meeting his eyes again.

“Welp.” She said, “Let’s go fuck that asshole up.”

Sam let out a gentle chuckle, nodding tiredly, “Lead the way.”

Sadie beamed, turning on her heel to wind her way around various junk in search of the door. They had been tied up in some kind of cellar, and the door was not made for trapping people, meaning Sam kicked it open on the first try, no problem at all. Sadie raised her brows at that, out of his sight, and swallowed with some effort, looking a little flushed. He glanced over his shoulder at her, blissfully unaware of the deeper hue in her naturally pink cheeks, and gave her a smile. It was this specific smile that he had, where his lips were parted and he was panting a little while he was clearly riding a wave of adrenaline; it was a little cocky and more than a little pleased with himself, but something about that smile always made goosebumps rise all over her.

“Shall we?” He said, a bit breathless and still smiling like that.

“Hell yeah.” She reflected his expression.

They slunk down the corridor, coming to a corner. She jerked her head towards the wall, the both of them pressing up against it, him behind her. Very carefully she peered around the corner, barely even getting her head out. She jerked back, giving Sam a nod—there was someone there. It was a henchman in a suit, distracted by the match-three game he was losing on his phone.

He raised his eyebrows as if to say: “Do you want to deal with it, or do you want me?”

She nodded to say: “I got it.”

With that, she turned away from him, hiking up her skirt a bit before leaning across the hall to pick up a scrap piece of wood. She didn’t bother dusting it off, she just stepped out into the hall. With the wood in one hand and her skirt in the other, she ran down the hall.

The guard looked up from his phone, eyes wide. She took ahold of the plank with both hands. He moved to reach for his weapon with his free hand. With a small growl, Sadie used the wood to slap his wrist, sending his phone flying. He gaped then had the expression wiped off his face when she slammed him in the head with the wood. He stumbled to the side, crumbling against the wall and now unconscious.

Her shoulders rose and fell a bit as she caught her breath, then glancing over her shoulder at Sam. He was peering around the corner with brows raised, making her smile.

“What?” She asked, lowering the plank to hang from her hand at her side, smiling from the adrenaline.

“Nothin’.” He replied, walking to her side with a smirk, “‘Just wondering if you ever thought about goin’ pro—you’ve got a helluva swing, champ.”

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly, “C’mon.”

Sam took the man’s baton—apparently, there were no guns allowed in here, too—and Sadie kept her wooden plank. They crept down the corridors of the dimly lit Bailiwick, pausing twice to let a guard walk past without noticing them. Finally, Sam turned a corner and recognized the doors to Thatcher’s office. He glanced back at Sadie. She gave him a nod.

Sadie and Sam each took a doorknob and shoved. The double doors flew open with no issues. They were poised for a fight when they took in the scene in front of them: Thatcher was tied onto his swivel chair by the ornate rope from the curtains in the window, a frightened look on his face as he leaned away from the large knife Dean was pointing at his throat. The both of them looked at Sam and Sadie with equal surprise.

“Dean?” Sam frowned, lowering his weapon.

“Sammy!” Dean said cheerfully, relaxing his grip on Thatcher’s suit a bit. He nodded to Sadie, “I couldn’t find you two for a lil’ while, so I assumed this idiot had done somethin’ to ya. Y’ alright?”

Sam nodded, “Yeah, we’re good.”

Behind him, Sadie shut the doors and then slid her wood plank through the handles. Sam glanced back to Dean as she returned to his side, all of them talking like Thatcher wasn’t even there.

“What’s the plan, here, Dean?” Sam asked a bit incredulously.

Dean shrugged, “Scare him until he gives us the translations?”

Sam closed his parted lips, his brow furrowed. Hey turned from his brother to look at Sadie. She shrugged a shoulder, frowning as if to say “no harm in trying it”. Sam felt the same way. They began moving closer.

“Sadie, could you—?” He began when she gently interrupted.

“—Yeah, I got it.” She nodded, beginning to search through all the cabinets and boxes around the room for the magic items Thatcher had forcibly taken from them.

Dean turned back to Thatcher. “So, where’re the translations, huh?”

“N—nowhere!” Thatcher cried.

“Wrong answer.” Sam growled, accepting the knife as Dean passed it to him.

“‘Ey.” Sadie gently got Sam’s attention, holding the gun Thatcher had taken off of him, which she’d just found in the drawer of a side table. Having already made sure that the safety was on, she tossed it underhand to him.

He caught it with one hand, thanking her softly as he tucked it into his pants. She turned back to begin emptying their other things out of the drawer. Sam faced Thatcher again, Dean cocking his gun casually.

“What d’you think, Sam?” Dean began, “You think he needs his left knee?”

Thatcher’s eyes widened, pale as a sheet.

“I dunno.” Sam replied, cocking his head and feigning an equivocality that was very threatening.

“Dude, seriously?!” Sadie drew all of the attention, holding up Tyler’s ring. “You took my necklace?”

“Uh-oh.” Dean said, playing up how mad she was.

Thatcher turned to look at Dean, mouth hanging open a bit in fear.

Sam leaned forward, pressing a hand to the back of Thatcher’s chair. The seat tipped back a bit, making Thatcher let out a soft squeak of surprise. Sam leaned close, Dean’s knife resting against Thatcher’s shirt.

“I bet you stole that sword you traded for the translations, too, didn’t you?” Sam narrowed his eyes, “What’d you do to that person, huh?”

Thatcher swallowed with difficulty.

“Come on now, Sam.” Sadie said, setting all their items down on the desk. “You really think this guy’s ever gotten his hands dirty? He had someone else take them somewhere to be ‘dealt with’.”

Dean let out a humorless snort, drawing Thatcher’s focus again. “Yeah, you’ve got ‘single-child of rich parents’ written all over you.”

Sadie tucked her necklace into the collar of her dress as she bent down to pick up a bag Thatcher had left in the corner.

“Where. are. they.” Sam ground out through his teeth, pressing the knife’s point into Thatcher’s chest.

Sadie shook the contents of the messenger bag out onto one of the chairs. Included in it was a small glass globe of white vapor, sealed with a metal cap like it was a Christmas ornament. She frowned and picked it up, bringing it closer to her nose to examine it.

“Don’t!” Thatcher cried before he could stop himself.

She cocked her head at him. Sam looked from the glass ball to Thatcher. “Why?”

The man swallowed nervously, staying quiet.

Sadie quirked a brow, ready to call his bluff. She held it in her open palm, allowing it to roll to the edge of her hand. Just before it tipped off and fell to the ground, Thatcher spoke.

“Alright, alright!” He cried.

She caught it easily with her other hand, all of them waiting for an explanation. Thatcher looked down into his lap, almost as if ashamed.

“It’s called Hypnos’ Mist.” Thatcher said dejectedly before adding, “It was very hard to come by and I need it for a deal I already have lined up.”

Sam’s brows rose as he accepted the orb from Sadie. “Hypnos like the Greek god?”

“Yes, genius.” Thatcher snapped, eyes narrowed.

Sadie began tucking their items into the bag.

“Alright, I’ve had enough.” Dean said, pointing his gun at Thatcher’s knee.

“Oh, no, no!” Thatcher yelped, trying in vain to scoot away.

“You wanna get shot, Thatch-y?” Dean cocked his head. He knew the answer was negative. “Then tell us where the damn translations are.”

Thatcher swallowed, staying silent. Sam let out a judgmental huff through his nose. “I think you’re gonna need a countdown, Dean.”

Dean smirked, “Five.”

Thatcher shifted a little, panic in his eyes.

“Four.”

He glanced over at Sadie. She was standing with one hand on the back of a chair set up for guests, the other on her hip. Her brows rose, daring him to even speak at her.

“Three…” Dean narrowed his eyes a little at Thatcher. “Four… aand… five—”

“—Alright!” Thatcher cried, soft as he said, “They’re on the other side of the building. I had them locked in the storage room. It’s labeled X12. But you’ll never get to it! I have a small army of highly-trained men guarding this building, you’re all dead as soon as you leave this room.”

Dean sighed, flipping his gun’s safety back on and then tucking it under his arm. He began phishing his phone out of his suit jacket. “Y’ see, we don’t need to go anywhere. We’ve got someone for that.”

Outside, in the gentle evening air, Castiel stood near a side door to the building, his hands in his coat’s pockets. His phone buzzed. He looked down at it, seeing a text from Dean:

Quickly, Cas responded.

With that, Dean lowered his cell. He glanced over at Sadie, who was adjusting the messenger bag strap as it hung across her chest. She gave him a stout nod, telling him she was ready. He turned to Sam, who gave him a barely-there nod of approval. With that, Dean flicked the safety off and shot Thatcher in the thigh.

“OW!” Thatcher screamed, continuing to babble from the pain as they stopped paying attention to him.

“Y’ think that’ll work?” Dean asked his brother, the both of them looking at the door to the office.

Sam nodded, “Yeah, I think so.”

Sadie was not waiting, however; she had moved to the window on the left side of the room, throwing up the sash. The Winchesters turned to watch her get up on the small window ledge and kick the screen out. With that, she hopped out into the night. She straightened and looked in through the window, her hair a bit wild.

“You two comin’ or what?” She asked.

The banging on the door began, and the wood plank made a noise like it was already splitting apart. More force was put on the door, and there was intense yelling from the other side. Nonchalantly, Dean tucked his gun away.

“Yep.” He answered her, walking over to hop out the window too.

Sam was still paused by the desk, holding the orb in one hand and Dean’s knife in the other. His eyes flickered from the Mist to the door. Sadie’s plank of wood splintered, losing integrity fast. A small smirk tugged at Sam’s lips, and he gave the glass ball a little toss before catching it and moving quickly to the window. He hopped out into the night, handing Dean his knife.

“Here.” He said quickly, turning back to the window.

The doors banged open and a swarm of men in suits burst into the room. Without any further hesitation, Sam whipped the globe through the window and onto the rug in the center of the office. It shattered upon impact, a swarm of mist escaping from it.

“Go, go, go!” Sam ushered Sadie and Dean away, all of them running towards the side of the building.

“What was that?” Dean asked when they paused, just out of sight from the office which was at the back of the building.

“Well,” Sam sighed, “Hypnos is the Greek god of sleep, so I’m assuming it knocks people out.”

Sadie snorted, drawing his attention. “Geek-check.”

Sam rolled his eyes, unable to completely subdue a grin. Before he had a chance to respond, the side door burst open. Immediately, Sam and Dean pulled their weapons, aiming them at the newcomer. Cas shuffled to a halt on the stoop, a frown on his face. Dean sighed with quiet exasperation.

“Y’ alright?” He asked, to which Cas nodded, approaching them and letting the door fall closed behind him.

“I got the translations.” He held up the leather portfolio.

“Here,” Sadie stepped forward, opening the messenger bag for him to put them away.

Once that was done, they all decided they ought not wait around much longer. Without needing to discuss it, Sam slid into the passenger side of the Evo, and they tore off down the dirt road, the Impala right behind.