#i don’t know dude. how was the earth formed for this story that takes place a billion years later and never mentions it once

[sylvanianfamiliez]

the inherent problem with trying to write fiction is that the real world is so infinitely complex and trying to find an answer to every possible question is impossible. your only option is to knowingly and willingly ignore a large part of the human experience. you can’t do anything else. you can’t simulate the infinite

[nevermore-grimes]

Nevermore-Grimes does Daydreamtober 2024

Original art from Pinterest. Header looks better in dark mode.

Prompts: #3: Secret + #9: Chase

Para Perspective: Venice

Paracosm: The Ember Blade Chronicles

TEBC Saga: The New-Asgardian Saga

Summary: Venice suddenly finds her safety in danger as a long-hidden secret of hers gets revealed and spreads like wildfire…

Warnings/Tags: Transphobia (outing, threats of violence, deadnaming, and misgendering), brief mentions of violence and death, sexual humor

Word Count: 3,378 (Goddamn, this came out way longer than I meant it to-)

My heart pounded in my ears as my feet made a similar motion against the pavement, propelling me forward. My throat and nose burned from how long I’d been running, but the steadily growing angry group behind me didn’t show any signs of slowing, so I didn't have much of an option.

The blood rushing in my ears drowned out all the yelling behind me, allowing me to hear my own frantic thoughts. How the hell did this happen? I was so careful! And for this to be their reaction? I don’t even know these people!

I found it really fucking weird that they went from not even caring that I existed to despising everything about me because S.H.I.E.L.D. decided to randomly put me on blast. No. Not S.H.I.E.L.D. Him.

“I know you know where she is,” Though his voice came through over my phone from a hidden number, I recognized the sound of it just fine. John Walker. “Tell me where Nevermore’s hiding out, or I’ll take your file to the tabloids.”

“Fuck that.” I spat. “I’m not saying shit.”

“Fine.” Click. And that was where that conversation ended.

To tell the truth, I wasn’t really scared of him leaking my file on Earth. I didn’t live there anymore, anyways. Besides, if Nevermore could handle people hating her from across the galaxy, I was sure I could, too. But, I never would’ve anticipated a story so small to make it all the way out here, let alone for a small group of people I didn’t even recognize to blow it out of proportion.

“Fuck you, Walker…” I breathlessly growled, fighting the burning in my lungs to keep my pace.

But, it was getting harder to stay ahead of the group. My running only seemed to spur on their anger, and they started throwing things at me. Glass bottles shattered by my aching feet as they yelled vulgarities at me. Overwhelmed, I felt tears spring to my eyes. I thought I was going to be sick.

“Leave me alone.” The plea left my mouth in a faint whisper.

Suddenly, I noticed the path under me switch from pavement to gold, and I looked up to see a familiar set of gates, blurred by my own tears. The Allfather’s Mansion.

I choked out a sob of relief as I rushed for the gates, magic opening them for me as I passed through. I willed myself to ignore the burning in my legs in order to put some distance between me and the group before throwing my whole body against the double doors of the mansion itself, falling inside as they opened for me.

Whatever lively conversation was taking place in the foyer stopped the moment I hit the floor, choking and gasping for air. Nevermore, Aerith, Giffany, Thor, and Loki froze, expressions of shock crossing every one of their faces.

“Oh dear.” Loki, though visually concerned, managed to keep his voice low and even. “Is she alright?”

“Venice?” Thor’s naturally loud voice practically echoed off the walls.

“Oh my god!” Aerith clapped a hand over her mouth.

“Woah,” Nevermore raised her eyebrows.

“Venny!” Giffany rushed over, dropping to her knees to wrap her arms around me.

I wrapped my own around her, burying my face in her shoulder as the sobs that have been threatening to escape me finally wracked my body. “Please…” I choked out. “Help me…”

The rest of the group finally caught up, gathering around us.

“Dude, what happened?” Nevermore sounded like she was at a loss for words.

I couldn’t form any myself. I just kept uncontrollably crying into Giffany’s jacket. I felt so pathetic, but she kept her hold on me, gently rubbing my back.

“Maybe let’s get her a little more comfortable first.” Aerith chimed in. “Like, in a chair instead of on the floor?”

“Right,” Giffany gently helped me to my feet, and the group parted to let me and her get across the room. I hid my face in my hands as we passed by, humiliated by the mental image of my own horrifically blotchy and tear-streaked face.

Giffany helped me sit down before moving behind me to gently massage my shoulders. “There we go. Better?”

“A little…” I murmured, my crying finally quieting down so I could speak.

“Yo, you should make yourself useful and get her some water.” Nevermore clapped Thor on the shoulder.

“Please.” Aerith glared daggers at her, and I almost laughed at her attempt to remind her older sister of her manners. Almost.

Suddenly, Frigga frantically rushed into the room. “The gate! They made it through the gate! There’s so much hate in their hearts…”

The entire group shifted uncomfortably before Nevermore sarcastically commented. “Well, that wasn’t ominous at all.”

As if on cue, the double doors flew open, and the group that was chasing me earlier burst inside. Aerith squealed in surprise while Thor and Loki instinctively stepped in front of me.

Nevermore’s quiet sarcasm quickly shifted to loud shouting as she dramatically pointed at the group. “Y’all put too much faith in that gate, bro! We need to put some locks on that door!”

One member of the group stepped forward, a visibly furious man with a vein at his temple that seemed just about ready to burst. “Hand him over!”

Thor’s head whipped around to face Loki. “What have you done this time, brother?”

Loki was oddly silent. Not even a snarky quip left his lips as he silently glared at the group.

“We don’t want him!” The man spat. “We promised to let him go ages ago.”

“You know these guys, Loki?” Nevermore raised an eyebrow at him.

Still no response from him. Nevermore grew visibly uncomfortable at his continued silence.

But, the man brought everyone’s attention back to him, leaving her no chance to press further. “We’re looking for Victor.”

A sadistic grin curled at his lip, as if he enjoyed the very act of saying the name I never thought I’d hear again. It made my stomach churn.

Nevermore grew visibly annoyed. “Who the hell is Victor?”

“Do you live under a rock, or something?” A low, dark chuckle escaped the man as he slowly pointed me out, his finger seeming to burn me like a spotlight. “Him.”

A silence so heavy I thought I would asphyxiate fell over the room as everyone took the time to process what he was saying.

“Ohhh!” Aerith’s gentle voice broke the silence. “I get it! This is all just a misunderstanding.” She giggled, shaking her head. “We don’t know a Victor, but that’s Venice. I could see how you’d make that mistake, though, since they’re both ‘V’ names. But, she’s Venice. Ven-ice. Like the city in Italy, if you’ve ever been. I haven’t, but it’s a country back on Earth.”

Thor joined in on her laughter. “Well, that settles that, then.”

Neither me nor Loki, Giffany, and Nevermore shared their relief. I swallowed back the bile threatening to rise in my throat. Giffany, the only person in the room who already knew the full extent of my secret, began to breathe shakily as she continued to rub my shoulders. Meanwhile, Loki’s glare at the group was unrelentingly piercing. And, I could practically see the gears in Nevermore’s mind whirring as she looked between me, the group, and Aerith.

Finally, the realization seemed to dawn on her. “I don’t think this is a mistake. This is some calculated fuckery.”

This only seemed to confuse Aerith and Thor.

The man scoffed and approached Nevermore, getting in her face. “You’re really gonna protect that abomination?”

She cringed, quietly gagging before remarking. “Your breath smells like something crawled into your mouth and died. No, wait. I’ve smelled death. This is worse.” She gagged again, louder this time, as she took a step back from him.

“I don’t want any trouble…” My friends whipped their heads around to face me, shocked that I’d managed to speak coherently for the first time since I got here.

“Nor do I.” Everyone in the room jumped at the sound of Frigga’s voice, having forgotten she was even there. “Not in this house, and not with you.” She slowly approached the group, sharp eyes narrowing at their wordlessly appointed spokesman. “I have no interest in repeating history today.”

I shared a wide-eyed glance with Nevermore. What could Frigga have possibly meant by that?

“Neither do I.” The man scowled. “That’s why I’m not letting you keep this one. So, stay out of this, bitch.”

“Hey!” Nevermore shouted.

Aerith shared in her sister’s disapproval, frowning at him. “You could be nicer, you know!”

“Are you all out of your minds?!” The man seemed to glow red with rage. “Do you not see how unnatural this is?!”

Nevermore raised an eyebrow at him. “You live in a kingdom with magical demigods and blew your hot ass breath into an elemental being’s face, but you draw the line at this?”

“Idiot.” Giffany muttered.

Both of their responses to his blatant ignorance pulled a small smile from me.

“My patience is running thin.” Frigga scowled. “Leave this place at once before I allow Nevermore to settle this with her preferred method.”

“Or don’t.” A sinister smile stretched across Nevermore’s face as she cracked her knuckles. “I haven’t made a decent killing in a while.”

“You’re all being ridiculous!” The man huffed.

“We’re being ridiculous?” Giffany frowned.

A loud bang at the top of the stairs made us all jump, and we turned to see Odin at the top of the stairs, tightly gripping his golden spear, Gungnir. “What is all of this commotion?”

The group immediately bowed their heads once they saw him. He may not have been the king of this place anymore, but everyone sure as hell still treats him like he is.

“What granted you the courage to make trouble with my family once again, after I forbade you from returning to our presence the last time?” Odin’s voice seemed to be twice as thunderous as Thor’s. Like father, like son, I guess… “Sew your seeds of chaos elsewhere, if you must, but I’ve made it clear that we’ll have no part in it.”

“B- but he’s not related to you!” The man cowered.

Aerith raised her hand as if she were a student in school. “Excuse me? I still have no idea what’s going on.” When everyone shot her odd looks, she slowly lowered it, cheeks glowing in embarrassment. “Not the time. Right. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not sure who you may be referring to,” Odin continued as if Aerith had never interrupted. “But, everyone I see in this room—besides you ruffians—is dear to each other in one way or another.”

Giffany wrapped her arms around me, resting her chin on my head. “It’s true~”

I gently smiled as her movement sent the smell of her perfume wafting to my nose, and I leaned into her touch, whispering, “Thanks, Gif.”

“So, it would do you well to leave.” Odin continued. “Before this little affair gets physical, and you learn just how far they’ll go to protect one another.”

“But-” The man started.

“LEAVE THIS PLACE!” Odin banged his spear on the ground, the resulting sound making us all jump again. “I WILL NOT REPEAT MYSELF AGAIN!”

“Tch!” The man turned, waving for the rest of the group to leave before bumping shoulders with Nevermore as he rushed out. “This isn’t over!”

“Bitch!” Nevermore grabbed her shoulder, scowling at him as the group left.

Odin watched them go before silently turning and leaving the way he came.

Frigga gently smiled at the rest of us. “Let’s hope they have the sense to heed the Allfather’s warnings this time.” With that, she turned and ascended the stairs after him, the group murmuring their thanks and byes to her.

Once she was gone, Nevermore was the first to turn her attention back to me. “You okay?”

“Y- Yeah. Yeah…” I looked down at my hands, burning with shame as everyone looked back at me. “Sorry for leading those guys here.”

“We’re just glad they didn’t end up hurting you, or something.” Aerith paused before asking. “They were looking for you, weren’t they?”

“Yeah…” I sighed.

A heavy silence fell over us, interrupted only by the sound of Loki’s boots against the floor as he approached me.

He took a knee in front of me, resting a hand on one of my knees as he finally spoke for the first time since I first got here. “I do hope you didn’t take their intolerance to heart.”

I weakly smiled at him. “Of course not. It’s not that easy for someone to hurt my feelings. I guess I was more so worried about my hide.”

“So, um…” Aerith spoke up again. “Can I ask what happened now?”

I couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at her cluelessness, but I couldn’t find the strength to meet her eye. “Walker gave me a little call, looking for Nevermore. When I didn’t tell him where she was, he outed me.”

“Son of a bitch.” Nevermore muttered to herself.

“Why the hell would he do that to you?” Giffany held me tighter.

“It was only a matter of time, I guess…” I frowned.

Nevermore shook her head. “You shouldn’t have had to risk that for me. That’s fucked up on so many levels.”

“Don’t worry about it.” I slowly shook my head. “Like I said, it was bound to happen.” I paused, my gaze returning to Loki. “But, uh, did you know those guys?”

Loki softly sighed, glancing away in thought before looking back at me. “Yes. We’re unfortunately familiar.”

Thor frowned. “Mother and father seemed to know them as well, but I’ve no recollection of any of their faces.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “Must I remind you of your past arrogance? Of course you don’t recognize them! You were preoccupied with your own precious affairs at the time.”

Thor uncomfortably shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

I took the silence as an opportunity to press for details. “So, what happened?”

“For the sake of making a long story short…” Loki began. “Ages ago, I was caught altering my appearance. I’d employed that ability countless times, but of course, the one time I had a witness was one of the times I’d decided to alter my form’s gender, as well. The very same group that chased you today didn’t take too kindly to that. Needless to say, I’m familiar with your predicament.”

For a short story, Loki was giving me a lot to process. “Pretty ballsy for them to threaten their prince. Well, princess at the time, I guess. That means you…”

“Don’t particularly align with the rigid concept of gender.” Loki finished for me. “I don’t care much for committing to one identity, in that aspect.”

“Huh, cool.” An understatement for the surprise I was experiencing. Did Loki just come out to me, too?

I caught Nevermore warmly smiling down at us before she spoke up. “Well, while those douchebags are out on the hunt for you, I don’t think I want you out there. You look like you could fit in my pajamas, so I’ll let you borrow a set.”

“Uh,” I nervously scratched the back of my neck. “I dunno, man. I think I’ve bothered you enough…”

“Dude,” Nevermore waved that off. “You think you can bother me? I know annoying. I have this chucklehead for a sister.”

She pointed her thumb towards Aerith, who struggled to mask her laughter with a small frown. “Hey!”

“She’s right, you know.” Giffany gently rubbed my shoulders.

��Hey!” Aerith seemed astonished at her input.

“No, not that!” Giffany laughed. “About Venice staying here! I think you’ll be safe here. And, besides, I’ll come visit you every day~”

Nevermore dramatically cringed. “Have your fun, but if you two get loud in the middle of the night, I’ll gladly drag my sleep-deprived ass over and jump you.”

“Not if we jump your bones first~” Giffany quipped, bringing a laugh out of me.

“Ew!” Aerith covered her ears. “I did not need to hear any of that.”

“C’mon, Gif.” I patted one of her hands with a small chuckle. “Stop traumatizing the pure soul in the room.”

“Fine,” Giffany giggled, letting go of me. “I’ll go help set up your room, then! Thoooor!” She skipped over to grab Thor’s hand and drag him away. “See ya later, Venny~”

“Wow.” Thor mused as he stumbled after her. “She’s got quite the grip…”

“I should go, as well.” Loki rose to his feet, dusting off his knees. “They could use a voice of reason.”

He and Nevermore shared a quick kiss, and I laughed to myself as Aerith dramatically stuck out her tongue and pointed inside her mouth.

As Loki walked off after Thor and Giffany, Aerith opened her arms for a hug. “I should get going, too. It’s getting a bit late. Bye, Nevi!”

Nevermore gently smiled and reciprocated her hug. “See ya, sissy.”

When the two let go, Aerith approached me for a hug of my own. “Be safe, Venice!”

“Thanks.” I patted her back. “Later, Aerith.”

Nevermore and I both waved at her as she left, and the large door slamming behind her plummeted us into a heavy silence.

A silence that Nevermore broke first. “Say the word and I’ll slaughter them all.”

“Not necessary.” I quickly answered. “This is my fight.”

“Technically started by me.” Nevermore avoided my gaze, and I saw a hint of hesitation cross her expression. Maybe even regret. Something told me that the events of today wasn’t the only thing on her mind.

“That’s not your fault.” I sat back down. “You didn’t ask for that asshole from S.H.I.E.L.D. to be on your scent.”

“Still. He crossed a line today.” Nevermore still seemed unsure.

I propped my elbow up on the arm of the chair, crossing one leg over the other as I rested my chin on my hand. “You can excuse them trying to kill you, but you cross the line at transphobia?”

“Yeah!” Nevermore responded, sending us both into a small fit of laughter.

But, she was the first to stop laughing, and I couldn’t help but press for answers. “Is something up?”

She shook her head, seeming to resolve herself to staying silent. But, her burning question seemed to escape her strong defenses as she blurted it out. “Did your transition have to do with me?”

“Huh?” I heard what she said, but her question was so left-field that it caught me off guard.

“Back when you…” Nevermore paused, searching for the right words. “Did you transition because you were trying to be more like me?”

She looked like she was going to be sick, and in that moment, everything clicked into place. Nevermore was so overprotective of me because she blamed herself for the way my life panned out. My past idolization of her, up to my death, left a guilt within her that didn’t fade with my revival. She still shouldered that burden for me.

“Dude.” I rolled my eyes. “I came out way before I even knew who you were.”

Nevermore let out the breath she was holding with a small relieved chuckle. “What the hell am I saying? Sorry, that was a stupid ass quest- Ah!”

As she spoke, I got up and wrapped my arms around her. “Thanks, man. For everything.”

Nevermore hesitated before reciprocating my hug. “Anytime, Ven. Anytime.”

[demonidoodles]

Omg hi so first of all, I’m so sorry for taking so long to respond to ur questions. I was thinking so hard about how much I was gonna infodump lol

Second of all, I’ve decided not to go in the order of how u asked the questions but to go chronologically lore-wise instead. Since this is a LONGGG post, I’ve also added some visuals too so ye !!! :))

sorry for rambling too much again lol

Okay so Robyn.

If ur not familiar with red dwarf stars irl, their prominent attributes are being the smallest, less luminous and long-living of the star world. That being said, Robyn was literally born during the beginning of the universe and will continue to live till the end of the universe’s time. This is,,, a lot. But like most stars, Robyn was content with spending trillions of years in absolute solitude light years away until some cosmic power knocked her out of her post and she landed onto Earth (or the wh equivalent idk I’ve been thinking about that lately. I’m just gonna keep calling it Earth until somebody tells me otherwise).

She lands on the academy grounds (she developed a human form the moment she landed) and the first person to find her was a student by the name of Astra Aldridge (funny enough, she majors astrology). It’s a unspoken tradition among stars to “mirror” the first person they meet on Earth. Both in personality and appearance. So basically Robyn based her whole being on Astra.

Or at least who she thought Astra was but that’s a story for another time I think.

Anyways, how Robyn got accepted into the academy is I say is the same as the Leon-situation; everyone could see Robyn’s power has the most potential (and the fact she’s a literal star) and just accepted her since she had no place to go.

I can imagine she would’ve been great for the academy’s image too. Her “star magic” was VERY destructive. She would dispense her power with her hands alone but you’d have to be very careful not to be in her radius. Not to mention, if she were to use her magic too much, she starts,,, breaking out.

With Stars in human bodies, if u were to rip their human skin inside out to reveal their insides, it would contain all of their original star form’s components. Which is,,, hot and bright. Which can kill anybody if not careful. (She’d be ok though, she’d just repair herself back into a normal human state)

But this was perfect for the academy at the time.

After her acceptance, Astra would then name her Amalthea, named after a moon on Jupiter (imma just assume the solar system in wh is the same as ours I am NOT making up a new system). Astra would even be one of Amalthea’s first person to make a wish from her. (Her wish is simple and sweet. She just wanted to make friends :,))

Fun fact: Amalthea has made connections with ancestors of the dudes of wh! She’s met with Goldsteins, Gedonelunes, Brundles, Tachibanas and more !!

Anyways things happen and uh. Let’s just say Amalthea was in a time of war and uh. Things happened. Children soldiers what. Another story for another time ig.

All u have to know is after graduation, Astra broke her friendship off with Amalthea and her final words basically being, “just,,, go out in the world or something.”

She never saw Astra again.

But hey! At least Astra gave her a parting gift! A ribbon !! :DD

So Amalthea becomes a traveler. For the next,,, two thousand years. Nothing too crazy.

She’s met a lot of people along those years. Most mortal, some only immortal for millions of years,,, she knows full on well she’ll outlive everyone. After leaving the academy, Amalthea goes back to this mindset; if u don’t say goodbye to said person, they’re still,,, aren’t gone? Amalthea will literally interact with somebody only to leave abruptly without saying anything about returning. She doesn’t even tell anybody her name.

Now she has had some encounters with other stars that were fortunate enough to land on Earth unscathed. All of the relationships neutral so far. Amalthea knows this one star (well, half star) named, Iolani, who she has a positive friendship with but again. Another time.

Let’s talk about the stars as a race for a min. U never asked but I’m showing u anyways.

Stars in space have no laws or culture. If they were to land on earth, they would have to create or adapt into a culture they find themselves in. So there’s no like,,, set culture for stars. It’s all ambiguous.

But one thing stars have created amongst other stars is their own communication system. It’s not verbal, just like when they were in space. And it takes the form of a very thin and colorful cloth :)

Simply called, Star Cloth. The whole light source could be anything but it reads so much better and clearer towards the sun. Other races, such as humans, would’ve been able to decipher the Star Cloths too if it weren’t for the fact that the light passing thru would totally damage their sight (beastmen would have it WORSE. assuming they can see in the dark,,,).

Also as a treat, Star Cloths would be equivalent to our irl Dreamcatchers. Stars would totally sometimes sell messaged Star Cloths (shit like Live Laugh Love or something) and people would buy into that shit. Could literally say ass but what can u do? U just gotta take a Star’s word for it lol.

Anyways, after the two thousand of years, Amalthea stops by in a small village, Reitz. This place just so happens to be where young Liz was. This was after Liz’s parents was gone to the epidemic.

Amalthea needed some hospitality for a few days and was going to stay in some other person’s residence until she meets young Liz. Liz was supposed to be babysat by a couple for awhile but the couple was away for a few days and everyone in the village was trying to pitch in all they can to take care of the newly orphan child.

That is until Amalthea was like, “I mean,,, I can take care of her in the meantime???”

So Amalthea and Liz take care of each other and before she knew it, Liz gets so attached to Amalthea. So much, that when the couple returns and Amalthea leaves, Liz literally sneaks out to catch up to Amalthea and BEGS her not to leave.

Amalthea would’ve left if it weren’t for the fact that young Liz pulls the, “why is everyone leaving me,,,? What am I doing wrong,,,?” comment.

This brings Amalthea’s maternal instinct back from the FUCKING dead (and the fact Liz’s comment parallels her last interaction with Astra) and Amalthea decides to raise Liz permanently :))

As a treat, Amalthea gives Liz the opportunity to give her a new name and to have a wish granted.

Liz chooses Robyn (mostly cuz bird) and her wish is innocent; to protect the people she loves now and in the future.

Now’s time for @mcl-mia’s questions because yes I’ve seen it too :)) if u don’t mind.

So wishes.

The ability to create is a little perk all Stars have. And their creation magic comes in the form of others wishes.

Each Star has a single star mark on their body somewhere. If a human were to wish upon a Star (if the Star chooses to accept their wish at all), the star mark will appear on the same spot as the Star they wished from.

This star mark will stay until the wish is considered granted or the wish bearer decides to opt out of said wish. Some marks last for a few seconds and some last for years. Some last till the day they die.

But once the mark is gone, that’s it. No more wishes. You only get one :))

The severity of how a wish is granted depends on the wish bearer’s motivations and ambitions. If it’s of pure and good intentions, the wish will be granted just as a haha cute wish.

However, if it’s the opposite, the wish can go haywire beyond repair.

And it can fluctuate as time goes on too! A seemingly innocent wish can sometimes change to something akin to a madoka magica scenario and vice versa.

Something also to note is that if u just so happen to have a star mark after wishing,,, that means u have access to a little bit of Star magic !!! But this little bit of Star magic is only for putting ur wish into fruition. It’s only amplified by how big ur ambitions for ur wish are.

But,,, u still have some Star magic !! :D

Tbh it’s hard to explain.

In the case for Liz? Hm.

Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy.

Also, yes. Jay can have a crush on Robyn. I don’t mind at all :))

Finally !!! The fourth WH OC, Robyn !!!

[castielcommunism]

the confession speech being as rose-tinted and dean-apologetic as it is likely has to do with the fact that the romance was legitimately so chronically underdeveloped in the show that cas being in love with dean was like, a thing that the writers just decided to be in the show last minute, so obviously the words cas says are going to reflect how narratively juvenile it is and not the result of like, him being resigned to the fact that he’s been in love with this imperfect man for over a decade. and also this is The Dean Show before it’s anything else, so we have cas telling him he’s the bravest specialist most handsome guy ever, as opposed to dean in all his horrible imperfection being given the gift of a brutally honest deathbed love confession. like I understand that cas wanted to leave dean with as much emotional fortitude as possible before dying, and that’s a diegetic reason why cas said all those overly flattering things to him, but in another sense I think it is definitely ooc. cas knows dean is not a perfect human being, and dean is not the reason cas loves humanity.

I know “this love story suffers from underdevelopment in canon” is a water-is-wet level of obviousness, but like it legitimately did suffer! this confession is THE single shot at establishing destiel as explicit, which is why I think it’s as flattering as it is. it does not reflect the infinitely complex feelings of an angel who has been in love with a human man for so long it’s hard to even think about a time before it was real. bitterness, resentment, anger, betrayal, hatred, loyalty, hunger, affection, excitement, disgust, and yearning should have all been simultaneously present in the culmination of what is, ostensibly, the last words of an angel who spent the final years of his life utterly dedicated to an incredibly fucked up mortal man, and not, like, “you are the most perfect guy that has ever existed ever.” if cas ever felt that way about dean he changed his mind a long time ago. but the love cas felt became diegetic only in the moment the confession was delivered, even though the only REASON the confession exists in the first place is because so many people in the audience went “hey these dudes have been in love with each other since forever.”

so I think the confession is written from the perspective of writers who don’t write it in light of the massive thematic and emotional weight to all the events that came before it; that like the rest of supernatural, conclusions spring from the earth fully formed with no history behind them, and in that same fashion the confession was dropped from the story just as quickly. taking the events of the show literally, I think it’s not unreasonable to come to the conclusion that cas loved dean for approximately ten minutes before dying and becoming a complete non-entity in the series finale

[dreamerstreamer]

Green With Envy

Pairing: Dream / Clay x f!reader

Summary: [Dream SMP!AU] In Dream’s opinion, you and Sapnap are getting a bit too close for comfort. Combine that with a war, and it looks like he’s in way over his head.

Warnings: some cursing (because Tommy exists) + tw// injury

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: requested by an anon who wanted some dream angst with a fluffy ending! the story takes place during the attack on L’Manberg. love to see that my first dream work is just packed to the brim with tropes. i had a bit of a rough time mapping this one out, but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

Dream let out a yawn as he walked into the living room, ruffling his hair as he went. “Good morning,” he greeted, collapsing onto the nearest couch.

On the other side of the room, you groaned. “‘Good morning’, my ass,” you muttered. “Mornings suck.”

He let out a small laugh at that, admiring your form sitting across from him. You were easily the biggest anti-morning person he knew. You could probably write a whole essay on why they were just the worst. But right now, in this moment, you looked absolutely adorable curled up in the couch cushions. Your hair was a complete mess, your clothes were askew, and a frown was plastered to your face.

Yet you were still so beautiful.

He wondered how you did it—how you managed to be so effortlessly wonderful in that special way of yours. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he was sure of one thing.

He liked you. A lot.

If only he knew how to tell you.

Sapnap strolled into the room, holding a glass of milk. “Morning, cuties,” he hummed, taking a sip. He glanced down at the grumbling couch lump that was you. “Is [Y/N] being a grump, again?”

Dream nodded, offering him a crooked smile. “You know it.”

For a moment, Sapnap paused. Then a devilish smile crossed his face and he set his glass down on the coffee table. He leapt over the back of the couch, crashing into the space next to you. Leaning over, he wrapped his arm around your smaller figure and pulled you into his chest. 

Dream froze in his spot.

What. The hell.

You let out a yelp at the sudden movement, your frown deepening. “Sapnap,” you said, “what are you—”

“Wakey, wakey!” he cried, his fingers going for your sides in a tickle attack. In an instant, you were howling with laughter, tears springing to your eyes as you kicked your arms and legs. Dream’s throat constricted at the sight, his heart beating faster at the sight of your smile but sinking knowing that he wasn’t the cause of it.

“Snappitus!” you screeched, smacking his head. “Snapmap, stop!” You let out a wheeze. “Oh my god, Sapnap! I’m going to kill y—”

Sapnap finally relented, dropping you back onto the couch cushion with a smile. “That’s the first time I think I’ve seen you smile in the morning, [Y/N].” He jut his thumb into his chest triumphantly. “And it was all thanks to me.”

You heaved, catching your breath before turning to look at him. “Snappitus Nappitus,” you crooned, reaching your hand over towards his face. He looked at you inquisitively. Suddenly, you flicked his forehead, and he fell back with a yelp.

“Dude!” he cried, glaring up at you from where he lay sprawled on the ground. “What the hell was that for?”

You cackled at his reaction, kicking at his armour. “Because you’re an idiot for thinking it was a good idea to do that.”

Sapnap let out a groan of defeat as he asked for you to at least pass him an ice pack for his “grave wound”. On the other side of the room, Dream’s expression was cold. A stone of uneasiness sank to the bottom of his stomach as he stood up, walking out of the living room with a heaviness in his step that he didn’t walk in with.

So, he thought to himself, his gut churning. 

Sapnap, huh?

The sun glared down at the earth from the sky, not a single cloud to be seen. Dream squinted up at it as he surveyed the weather.

The scheduled day to negotiate with L’Manberg over their territory had finally come.

Under any other circumstances, Dream would be having much more fun preparing for the journey, knowing very well that he was about to see some serious destruction. But today, he was in a terrible mood, and for one reason only.

For the past week, you and Sapnap had been spending practically every second together.

When Dream had sent Sapnap to burn down the forest surrounding L’Manberg’s walls, he had invited you to come with him. When Dream had asked you to hunt creepers to retrieve the gunpowder necessary for the TNT, you had brought Sapnap with you.

And he didn’t think it could get any worse, but even now, you were laughing at something Sapnap was saying, your grin shining brighter than the sun hanging in the sky above you.

Dream was tired of it.

“You have the dynamite sticks, right?” he asked, leading his horse away from the house.

George froze, then let out a long whine. “I forgot it in the storage house. Now, I have to go all the way back to get it.”

Despite his terrible mood, Dream let out a chuckle. “You’re so dumb, George,” he said teasingly, sending him a smirk. “How could you forget the most crucial part of the plan?”

George groaned. “I don’t know! I just forgot, okay?”

He waved a hand at him, pulling out his saddle. “Just go and grab some quickly, alright? We’ll wait for you until you get back.”

George nodded, hopping onto his horse. “I’ll be back soon.” With a snap of his reins, he was dashing down the hill toward the storage warehouse. 

The moment he disappeared over the hill, Dream’s smile vanished along with him. In the corner of his eye, he could see Sapnap chasing after you with a stick, his boots in your hand. A twinge of jealousy ran up his spine.

Wait—jealousy? No way. Dream wasn’t jealous, not one bit. 

With a deep sigh, he diverted his attention to attaching the saddle in his hands to his horse. Mere moments after he placed it upon his horse’s back, he heard footsteps approach him. He already knew who it was without having to look up.

“What do you want?” he said coldly, not bothering to look at you as he began clasping the saddle buckles shut. 

You shifted your weight from foot to foot. “Well, um,” you said, “I wanted to come over and say hi—”

“Cool, hi,” Dream said, cutting you off. He turned, looking at you properly now. “You can go, now.”

You looked taken aback by his words before your expression shifted into a frown. “What’s gotten into you, Dream? You’re not acting like yourself.”

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Oh, am I?” He gestured behind you. “I’m just saying you can leave, now. You did what you came to do, right?”

You were appalled. “Why are you acting like this? I just wanted to hang out with you for a bit before we left.”

Didn’t you get it? He was trying to do you a favour. Before he could stop himself, he snapped, “Why don’t you just hang out with ‘Snappitus Nappitus’?” 

A sinking feeling dug itself into his chest at the pang of hurt that shot across your face. But in an instant, it was gone, your expression hardening. His mouth went dry.

“Fine,” you spat, fixing your eyes on him with a glare. “Maybe I will.”

You turned on your heel, stomping away to the other side of the base, inevitably making your way over to Sapnap to complain. Dream’s eyes trailed after you as you walked off, something stinging behind his eyes.

Why did he say that? He shouldn’t have taken his anger out on anyone, let alone you—the one he cherished most.

He felt sick.

“Dream,” a voice said behind him. “I got the dynamite. Ready to go?”

He turned to see George behind him, seated on his horse with a flint and steel in hand. Taking a deep breath, Dream hoisted himself onto his own horse, picking up the reins with a heavy heart.

“Yeah.”

“Big D! What’s the fuck?!”

Dream grimaced under his mask, the string keeping his patience together wearing thinner by the second. 

He and his SMP had been in L’Manberg for no longer than five minutes, and he already wanted to declare war and call it a day. 

“I’ve already presented you with your ultimatum, Tommy.”

Tommy snorted. “Yeah, and it’s a bad one. ‘Give up your land or we’ll light three sticks of dynamite’,” he mocked. He turned to look at Tubbo with a grin. “Tell me that’s not the worst ultimatum you’ve ever fuckin’ heard, Tubbo.”

Tubbo offered a cheerful grin. “It’s a pretty bad ultimatum, yeah.”

Tommy nodded, looking back at Dream with a triumphant smile. “You see, Big D? Your deal sucks. It’s fucking terribl—”

Dream let out a deep sigh. “Tommy, I’m really not in the mood for this.” His form turned toward you for a split second, taking in the sight of your figure next to Sapnap’s before looking back at Tommy. “Let’s just get this over with. What’s your decision?”

The blond blinked at him for a second, a shit-eating grin spreading across his face. “Oooh, are you having women problems?”

Dream’s grip on his sword stiffened, his fingers twitching. “What,” he said, his tone harsh, “are you talking about it?”

Tommy shrugged. “I’m just saying, you might be having some.” He gestured to himself, smiling pompously. “If you were like me, you wouldn’t have these kinds of problems, because I’m an expert at women.”

The string thinned another fraction. “Sure you are, Tommy.”

Just then, Wilbur spoke up. “Tommy doesn’t know what he’s talking about, ignore him.” His smile mirroring Tommy’s. “But say, Dream,” he drawled, his gaze flickering back and forth between you and him, “do you happen to know the saying ‘green with envy’?”

Dream’s breath hitched. If he said one more wor—

Wilbur narrowed his eyes teasingly. “Because to me, it seems to be you’re covered in green from head to toe—inside and out.”

And the string snapped.

“George,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion, “set it off.”

The group looked at him in alarm, their eyes wide as George began, “A-Are you sur—”

“Just set it off!” he shouted, a fury like none other taking over him. How dare Wilbur of all people tease him—taunt him? How dare he? Maybe it was a bad idea, but he was done with negotiating.

It was time.

Without any more questions, Dream watched as George lit three sticks of dynamite, tossing them onto the ground ahead of them. The moment the sticks hit the ground, George yelled, “Go, get out, get out, get out!”

Every member of Dream’s faction turned, rushing for the entrance just as the first explosion rang out. Screams rang out all around him, Tommy cursing incessantly while Fundy screeched. Hidden under his mask, a grin stretched across his face at the sound of destruction. He was a single step away from the exit when Sapnap let out a desperate yell.

“[Y/N]!”

Dream stopped, turning to look over his shoulder. The explosions were still ringing out around him, but what he saw horrified him.

You laid on the ground with an arrow pinned to the train of your satchel, leaving you stuck on the ground. Above you, a chunk of the L’Manberg walls was dangerously close to unlatching itself and falling on you. All it would take was a few more explosions for that section of the wall to come crashing onto you, and Dream knew that they had hidden more than enough TNT under the country to make that happen. 

You were tugging desperately on your satchel, unsheathing your sword to cut yourself loose, but Dream knew there wasn’t enough time.

He didn’t allow himself even a single second to process what was happening—he simply bolted.

In one moment, he was turning to head out of the base. In the next, he was tackling you to the ground, his taller figure shielding yours as he pinned you to the earth below.

“Drea—?” 

The ear-splitting train of explosions cut you off, and Dream felt a surge of white hot pain sear up his back as the chunk of wall slammed into his back. He was vaguely aware of the fact that his armour was cracking. He knew he should have repaired it when he had the chance. 

Just then, his mask slid off his face, landing squarely on your chest. The strap must have snapped, he thought distantly to himself. The ringing in his ears was deafening, and he could just barely make out the sight of you crying out underneath him, your lips forming his name—his real name.

It was a shame he couldn’t hear your voice saying it. He’s sure it would sound lovely.

Then the world went dark.

Something cool brushed over his face, and Dream felt himself being pulled out of unconsciousness.

Where... am I?

Slowly, he opened his eyes, blinking while then drowsiness seeped out of his eyes. It must be late afternoon, given how warm and light it was. Letting his eyes readjust to the brightness of the day, he took in the sight of the space around him. It only took a few seconds for him to figure out that he was in his room. He recognized those chests, his messy desk, the curtains framing the open window. A breeze must have been what woke him up.

Why am I here?

He thought back in his mind, trying to recall the last memory he had experienced.

The battle. His SMP. L’Manberg. Tommy. Wilbur. Ultimatum. Dynamite.

He grimaced.

Oh. Right. That.

He vaguely wondered if their side had won, but also knew that he was missing something. He could have sworn there was more to the battle than just that. What was it?

He felt a weight pressing down on the bed just next to him. Glancing down, his heart stuttered in his chest at the sight of you sitting in a chair next to him, leaned over and fast asleep on the edge of his bed. The images flashed through his mind.

Taunting. The wall. You. Pain. Heat. Your lips mouthing his name. Darkness.

Ah. He remembered, now.

He shifted slightly, feeling a dull pain shoot up his side. Wincing, he pulled back the covers, looking down. He was wearing a new shirt and sweatpants—clean clothes, thank goodness. Lifting up the hem of his shirt, he grimaced at the sight of the white bandages wrapped around his torso. They definitely extended to his back as well, if he remembered correctly. So that explained the aches. 

Ever so slowly, he wiggled back, ignoring each wave of pain that crashed over his spine when he did so. A few moments later, he had finally brought himself to a sitting position, your head now lying on his lap. Dream smiled fondly down at you, reaching out to stroke your hair. You were beautiful when you were sleeping. Well, you were beautiful all the time, but he digressed. 

He had a million questions swirling around in his head. How long had you been sitting here? Did your back hurt from leaning over for so long? Were still mad at him?

He really hoped you weren’t.

Just then, you reached a hand to rub at your eyes, letting out a soft noise as you began to wake up. Dream’s hand immediately darted back to his side, and he watched intently as you brought yourself back to a sitting position. You let out a quiet groan as you cracked your back. It was only then that you fully opened your eye. He could practically see the recognition set in your eyes as you took in where you were before you whirled, jaw dropped as you stared at him.

“Um,” he began, suddenly feeling shy, “hey there.”

You continued to gape at him, eyes wide. “You’re awake,” you blurted.

His lips quirked. “Sure am.”

You scooted closer to him in your chair, shoulders shaking. “You’re actually awake,” you repeated, almost in disbelief.

Dream nodded, amused. “Yep. You already said that.”

All of sudden, you moved forward, climbing onto the bed so that you were sitting on your knees right beside him. He didn’t have a chance to react before you were leaned into him, weakly smacking his chest with your fists, your shoulders trembling as you did so.

“You’re. So. Stupid!” you wailed, punctuating each word with another light hit. You whipped your head up, glaring at him through your watery eyes. “Why did you do it? Why did you block me from the debris?”

Dream averted his gaze from yours, his heartbeat picking up from how close you were to his. He could only hope you couldn’t feel it through your hands. “I wake up and one of the first things you tell me is that I’m stupid?” he said, trying to avoid the topic at hand. “What a warm welcome back.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line. “Don’t change the subject, Dream. Answer the question.” Your gaze narrowed. “Why did you do it?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it. “I—I didn’t even think about it,” he admittedly truthfully. “I just moved without thinking.”

You stared at him, your brows furrowing. “But why? You should have been worried about yourself first.”

Dream blinked down at you, feeling his heart beat against his rib cage wildly. He was almost positive you could feel it. 

Then it hit him, the realization sinking into his mind as clear as day.

It was now or never.

He took a deep breath, reaching up to hold your hand in his. He watched something in your gaze melt, but the question remained in your eyes.

Luckily for you, he had an answer.

“I like you,” he said. “That’s why.”

You stared at him, stunned. He felt anxiety lump in his throat.

“You do?”

He swallowed it back down.

“Yeah.”

There was a beat of silence.

And then you began to cry.

Almost instantaneously, Dream began to panic. “H-Hey,” he said gently, wrapping his arms around you carefully, “why are you crying? Did I say something wrong? I, uh—” He gulped. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. I know you like Sapnap.”

Now, it was your turn to be confused. Sniffling, you wiped at your eyes. “Wh—” Hiccup. “W-What are you talking about? I don’t—I don’t like Sapnap.”

He wrinkled his brow at you. “Sure you do,” he said. “You’ve basically been all over him lately. That practically screams, ‘I love Sapnap’.”

You stared at him, your tears reduced to stained cheeks now and a slightly sniffling nose. “Sapnap and I are best friends,” you said, frowning.

He nodded. “Yeah. And you like him.”

Your frowned deepened. “No, that’s—” You stopped, and he watched as the gears turned in your head, being able to pinpoint the exact moment they clicked together. 

“Dream,” you said slowly. “You think that I—” You pointed to yourself. “—like Sapnap?”

He cocked his head. “I mean, don’t you?”

You stared at him for a moment longer. “Dream,” you said again, “when you jumped in front of me, I was absolutely terrified. I didn’t know what was going on, and I only remember screaming before you just blacked out on me. We won and L’Manberg surrendered, but George had to help me carry you back. You were out for two days.”

He cringed at your words. It was good that you had won, but two days was a long time to be unconscious. He must have missed so much. 

“During those two days, Dream,” you continued, “I practically didn’t leave that chair.” You pointed to the chair you had been sitting on just moments prior. “Sapnap had to drag me down to eat, and I still slept here, as you already saw.”

He gaped, absolutely shocked. You stayed by his side? For two straight days? For him?

He must have said that out loud without thinking, because you nodded and pursed your lips. “Dream,” you said, “do you know what that means?”

He blinked at you. “I don’t see how this has anything to do with you liking Sapnap.”

You let out a groan, hanging your head in your hands. “How are you this dense?” you muttered, your cheeks flushing pink. “Are you really gonna make me say it?”

He didn’t think he could be anymore confused. “Say what?”

Lifting your head, your eyes met his, your cheeks burning with heat and hands shaking. “That I like you, and not Sapnap.”

Dream froze, his brain short-circuiting in his head.

You liked him.

You liked him back.

A grin spread across his face. This was possibly the greatest day of his life.

Without wasting another minute, he pulled you into his arms, practically crushing you to his chest. You squeaked at the sudden movement, your heart swelling in your chest at the sudden display of affection. “Huh—”

“Thank god,” he murmured in your ear, his voice soaked in relief. “I genuinely thought that you were going to reject me.”

You wrapped your arms around him, careful to be gentle with his back, and smiled into his shoulder. “I thought I was being obvious, but I guess you’re just really stupid.”

Dream sighed, dizzy with affection and something that felt like love.

“Yeah, I am.”

Dream let out a yawn as he walked into the living room. “Good morning,” he said, eyes darting around the room. “Has anyone seen my—”

He stopped dead in his tracks when his eyes landed on you. On the other side of the room, you were curled into the couch like you almost always were in the morning. But this time, you were wearing a green hoodie. His green hoodie.

His heart melted at the sight.

He didn’t think it was possible for you to be anymore beautiful, yet here you were, destroying all of his expectations. You never ceased to amaze him with just how wondrous you were.

He sighed, striding to the other side of the room and settling in next to you on the couch. “Never mind,” he murmured, leaning in close to nuzzle his face next to yours. “I found it.”

You giggled at his touch, pushing his face away from you. “Ugh, you’re so cheesy.”

He rolled his eyes at you, grinning. “Don’t act like you don’t eat it up.”

You huffed, turning away from him. “I’m not saying anything.”

Sapnap walked in while Dream laughed at your expression, a glass of milk in hand. “Morning,” he greeted, sitting down on the couch opposite of you two. He spared a single glance in your direction before asking, “Are you two being gross, again?”

Dream‘s grin widened. “You know it.”

Sapnap gagged as Dream leaned in close to your face, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Ewww.”

Turning to face your boyfriend, you pressed a hand to his cheek and cooed. “Clay.” He leaned into your touch, his lips curling. He was right. His name did sound lovely on your lips,

You returned his smile with one of your own, moving your hand away from his cheek and towards his hairline. 

All of a sudden, you flicked his forehead, pain shooting through his skull as he jumped.

“Ow!” he yelped, wincing at the slight sting of your nail against his skin. He rubbed at the red skin, glaring at you. “Why’d you do that?”

You smiled sweetly at him, but he could see your eyes glint devilishly. “Because you’re an idiot for not realizing I liked you sooner.”

From the other side of the room, Sapnap let out a cackle, pointing at Dream. “Suck it, green boy!”

Dream’s brow twitched and a dark grin crossed his face as he stood up, cracking his knuckles. “Oh, Sapnap—”

Let’s just say that Sapnap needed more than a few ice packs, that day.

[hangovercurse]

Until You Fall Asleep

After moving in with the crew to help cure your quarantine boredom, you find a new way to deal with your insomnia.

Request: “Could you please do a Colson fanfic where you're a friend of the gang and you move into their house for quarantine so you're not alone. Colson finds out you have terrible insomnia and starts staying up to keep you company and you gradually start sleeping in his bed because it's the only place you seem to actually sleep. You start to get really close through these late night chats, watching films, sharing stuff and opening up to each other... Friendship starts to develop into something else. I need some fluff to see me through these sleepless nights! 🙏😘 Thanks!”

Colson X Reader

Warnings: cursing

Word Count: 3487

Living with your best friends during a nationwide quarantine seemed like a good idea when you agreed to it, but after the 5th night of wandering the huge house late at night because you couldn’t sleep, you were starting to think you should’ve stayed where you were. At least at your own place, you didn’t have to worry about sneaking around so as not to wake anyone up.

Luckily, no one seemed to notice that you woke up earlier than everyone else in the house or went to sleep later. Or if they did, no one said anything.

Day five

Tonight hadn’t been going so well. You had tried showering, you hadn’t eaten for at least a few hours before trying to sleep, you turned your lavender diffuser on, you’d even tried yoga. Nothing helped, and you were left staring at your ceiling.

Frustrated and uncomfortable, you rolled out of your bed, sock clad feet pattering across your room and slowly pulling your door open. You made your way through the house and out to the pool, letting the cool night air wash over you. A deep breath fell from your lips as you began to pace around the deck, hoping to tire yourself out enough to sleep.

After a few minutes, you heard the sliding glass door open, looking up and finding Colson stepping out with a blunt in his hand. He smiled tiredly at you, “you’re up early.”

You raised an eyebrow, “what time is it?” You figured it was 4, maybe 5 am.

“Almost 7,” he looked concerned, “you okay?”

You were trying to figure out how you managed to stay up until 7 am without a wink of sleep, “yeah, just couldn’t sleep. It’s cool though. Why are you up?”

Colson lit the blunt as he spoke, “couldn’t sleep either.”

Day eight

You found yourself curled up on the couch, reading a book at 5:30 in the morning after hours of trying to fall asleep. You swore if you stayed in your room a second longer, you’d break something, so you snuck out to the TV room with the most boring book you could find.

“Do you ever sleep?” Colson’s voice surprised you, making you jump lightly in your seat. The man chuckled at your reaction, taking a seat next to you.

You pouted at his glee, “I could ask you the same thing.”

He shrugged, “sleep is for the weak.”

A sarcastic chuckle fell from your lips, “oh yeah, I feel so strong and cool right now.”

The man laughed with you, but soon turned serious, “serious though, are you good? Both nights this week I haven’t slept you’ve been awake, and I know you don’t take naps.”

You sighed, “it’s just insomnia, I’ve been dealing with it on and off for a couple years now. It’s not a big deal.”

He cocked his head in curiosity and worry, “how much sleep have you been getting?”

You ducked your head in embarrassment, “I slept for an hour at like 3, hopefully I’ll fall asleep again at some point tonight.”

Colson frowned, “can I help at all?”

A small smile fell upon your face, “sometimes talking helps, but honestly not much else. It’s not that big of a problem, though. I’ve been dealing with this for a while, I’m used to it.”

He looked shocked, “dude, you sleep for a few hours every night! That’s a problem. I don’t even know how you’re still alive.”

“Like you’ve never gone a couple days in a row without sleeping,” you said sarcastically.

“No! I go to sleep late as fuck, but I sleep eventually most nights. You’re on a whole different level.” His tone was slightly defensive, if not concerned, “do I need to get you some pills or something? I can do that.”

Your eyes went wide, “Jesus, Kells, no. I have enough to deal with, I don’t need another addiction on my hands too.”

He chuckled, “I’m just saying it might help. I’m assuming weed does nothing?”

You sighed sadly, “it did for a while, but I think my body got used to it. I just have to wait it out until I inevitably pass out.”

“Well, guess I’ll just bother you until you fall asleep.” He relaxed further into the couch, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“Colson, you really don’t have to-“

“You won’t let me get you drugs, so I’m gonna stay up with you. It’s the least I can do.” He smiled widely, knowing he would get his way.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that, right?”

Day Twelve

“You think that Captain America has the best character arc? Seriously?”

Your nightly chats with Colson had moved into his room after Baze was woken up by Colson’s loud laughter during a conversation about what type of dogs you’d both be. So, you were sat cross legged on his bed, facing each other in deep conversation.

The man tried to defend his stance to you, “okay, I know everyone loves Tony’s whole asshole to hero thing, but Captain America went from this goody two shoes to this badass criminal and he still got the girl in the end.”

You shook your head, “you’re just wrong in every way. I’m not even saying Iron Man had a better story, but literally every other character developed more than Steve. He wasn’t that badass in the end, and the fact that he went back to get the girl just proves he never really changed all that much. He was static.”

“So, you’re telling me, if we watched every single movie with Captain America in it, you wouldn’t be entertained?” He crossed his arms and leaned backwards, eyeing you challengingly.

You scoffed, “the movies are fine, I just think that Marvel has produced better superheroes with better plotlines.”

“New plan, we’re going to watch every marvel movie in order and then you can tell me that I’m right.” He grabbed the remote and turned on the TV across from his bed.

Rolling your eyes, you moved back to lean against the headrest, legs spread out in front of you, “you’re not right, but I’ll watch them just to see the look on your face when you realize you’re wrong.”

Colson flopped down on the bed next to you, throwing an arm over your shoulder and pulling you so that you were leaning into his side. A yawn escaped his mouth, “if you get tired, let me know.”

You giggled, “I’m always tired, I just can’t sleep. I won’t get offended if you fall asleep though.”

He pulled a face, “I’m not falling asleep.”

About an hour into the movie the slow rise and fall of his chest indicated differently. You chuckled to yourself once you realized he had fallen asleep, turning further into his chest, and allowing yourself to get more comfortable.

Somewhere between 4 and 5 am, you found your eyes finally closing of their own accord, unconsciousness washing over you.

Day 17

Since starting your marvel movie binges with Colson, you’d found yourself getting more sleep. You couldn’t tell if it was from the movies or from Colson, but either way something seemed to be working.

Tonight, however, even your new routine wouldn’t lull you to sleep. You tried every breathing exercise in the book, but nothing seemed to work. Colson had fallen asleep a while ago, his arm wrapped around you as per usual, so you couldn’t talk yourself to sleep.

So, you decided to take a stroll around the house, hoping the small form of physical activity would help. But in order to get out of bed, you would have to find a way out of Colson’s embrace without waking him up.

You slowly and gently grabbed his hand and removed it from your side, laying it on the bed next to you. Then, you sat up slowly, only to be pulled back into his chest, “where’re you going?”

His voice was deep and gravelly, sleepiness very evident. You responded with a whispered, “I can’t sleep, was gonna go walk around.”

He pulled you in closer to him, nuzzling his face into the crown of your head, “but you’re so warm.”

You chuckled, cuddling into the man, “fine, I’ll stay.” You tried to close your eyes and find sleep, but again, none came. Sighing, you accepted that you would be stuck in your current position, realizing there were worse things than being wrapped up in a beautiful boy’s arms.

Day 25

“I know aliens probably exist, but do you think they’d ever take one of us to study?”

Colson chuckled at your question, “like a human in general or, like, you and me?”

“Like you or me. Do you think we’re important enough to be studied?”

He squeezed your waist, “I think you are in desperate need of sleep.”

Laughing, you responded, “I’m serious! And I have been sleeping, thank you very much.”

“Okay, fine. I think if aliens ever came to Earth, they’d probably be more interested in, like, genius billionaires or really dumb people, like people from Florida.”

You slapped his arm, “don’t be mean to Florida.”

You could feel the vibrations from his laughter, making you giggle. “Fine, but my point is they wouldn’t be interested in us unless they’re really into music.”

“Darn,” you huffed.

He raised an eyebrow at you, “you want aliens to take you and study you?”

Balancing yourself on his chest, you lifted yourself up to look down at him, “yes! That would be so fucking cool.”

He shook his head with a laugh, “you’re crazy.”

“Think about it, who else would be able to say they got studied by aliens. And then you’d know that you were important to someone, even if it is just alien scientists.”

Rolling his eyes, Colson pulled you back down into him, your hands still resting on his chest, “I don’t need aliens to know I’m important.”

“Well not all of us can be ubertalented rock stars with millions of fans,” you joked, a teasing smile on your face.

You glanced up to find his eyes trained on you, holding a softer look in them than you had expected, “I didn’t mean that.”

It took a few moments for his words to get processed by your brain, but you immediately dismissed the thought that he could be talking about you specifically. More than likely he was referencing his family in general, which you could be included in.

Day 31

To celebrate a full month in quarantine, the guys had decided to throw an in-house only party, which just meant that everyone had an excuse to drink together more than normal. You were staying mostly sober, knowing that otherwise the boys would most likely break something, most likely themselves.

You watched from your place on the kitchen counter as Rook, Baze, Slim, Dre, Irv, Dub, and Colson played a round of King’s cup.

“Y/N, you have to drink,” Rook called from across the room, “it’s a six.”

“If there’s no women playing then you just skip that card, Rookie.” You called but took a sip from your cup anyways.

Colson whined, “this is boring.” You chuckled as he moved away from the table to come stand by you, the rest of the guys continuing without him. He leaned against the counter next to your dangling leg, letting you run your fingers through his blond hair, “parties are boring now, Y/N.”

You could tell that he was gone, the alcohol having almost full control of him. “When we get out of quarantine, we’ll throw the biggest party ever, Kells,” you said, letting your hand fall to rest on his shoulder. The man grasped your hand in his and moved it back up to the top of his head, silently begging for you to continue. He turned into a cat, practically purring as he leaned into you, “hey, Kells, you tired?”

He shook his head, “no, ‘m gonna stay up with you, remember?”

You laughed softly, “it’s okay, Kells. You should get some sleep; I’ll be okay for a night.”

His arms wrapped around your middle, head burying into your stomach, “I’ll go to sleep if you do.”

“You gotta let me off this counter for that.” This was a side of Colson you rarely saw; the drunk, very cuddly version of Colson. Occasionally he’d cling on to you when he got really tired, but that was in the privacy of his room. Here he was hanging onto you in front of all his friends, though granted they were too drunk to notice anything unusual.

You hopped off the counter, taking on some of Colson’s body weight in order to get him up the stairs and to his room. Truthfully, you planned to leave him in his bed once you got him there, but he had other plans. As soon as you moved to walk away from the bed, he grabbed your arm sleepily, “why are you leaving?”

Running a hand along his jaw softly, you softly said, “I’m gonna go to my room.”

He whined, “you never sleep in your room, stay.”

You bit your lip, unsure how to respond to that, “Kells, you’re drunk, you need some sleep.”

“I can’t sleep without you.” His eyes were glazed over, making his pleading look even more appealing than normal.

Sighing, you muttered, “yes, you can. I’ll be right down the hall,” but he wasn’t taking no for an answer, hand still firmly around your wrist.

“No.”

You rolled your eyes, climbing into the bed next to him, “I’m only doing this because you need to go to sleep.” He hummed in response to that, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you tightly into him, leaving no room for you to escape even if you tried.

Day 37

Nights with Colson had slowly turned into every moment with Colson. You woke up together, ate breakfast together, spent time together. You were rarely separated for long, not that either of you minded.

At some point, the line between friends and whatever lied next had gotten blurred, but not fully crossed. You and Colson were touchy and cuddly during the day as well as at night, and everyone in the house was starting to notice it.

Part of you just wanted to kiss him and see what happened, but you knew messing with a situation like this could go very wrong very fast. So, you just left it up to him to figure out where this thing would go, knowing he probably wouldn’t make the first move either.

But as you laid in his arms, listening to his midnight ramblings, you couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if you took matters into your own hands. You watched his lips move as he spoke, wanting nothing more than to lean up and press your own against them. Of course, you would never actually do it, but it was nice to dream.

There was a lull in the conversation which was spent with your eyes dancing across each other’s face, trying to figure out what to say next. Suddenly, he blurted out, “can I get your advice on something?”

You nodded in response, a soft smile on your face. He continued, “this sounds so stupid, but there’s this girl I’ve been talking to recently and I can’t figure out if she ‘s into me or we’re just really good friends.”

You sat up slightly, perking an eyebrow up, “well what signs has she given you that she’s into you?” Your heart burned, hoping he was talking about you. It was a feeling that had been happening a lot recently whenever you were around him, which was almost all the time.

He sighed, “I mean, we talk like, all the time about everything. And I think she flirts with me, but I’m not completely sure if she’s flirting or she’s just being friendly.”

“Well, what signs say that she’s not into you?” You ask, biting your lip to hide the grin forming on your face.

Colson hesitated, “I mean, none, really. I’m just scared of messing up our friendship, you know?”

You nodded, “well, you’ll never know if you never ask her. I’m sure it’ll work out.”

He was quiet for a long time, clearly turning the advice over in his head, “I would but, with quarantine and everything, I just don’t think it’s the right time. We wouldn’t be able to actually, you know.”

Your heart fell, realizing that there was no possible way he was talking about you. It felt like every bone in your body turned to Jell-o at the realization, a lump forming in your throat. “Right, well, maybe you could invite her over to the house. Or do a cute facetime date or something.”

He nodded but stayed quiet. You fully sat up, swinging your legs off the bed. “Where are you going?” he asked softly.

Something inside of you was slowly crumbling, and you needed to get yourself out of his presence as soon as possible, “I just need to take a walk, I don’t think I’m tired enough to get any form of sleep.”

Colson let out a small “oh,” as you stood up and swiftly left the room, tears forming in your eyes.

You felt silly for letting yourself fall so easily and for thinking that he might have felt the same way. But you could’ve sworn there was something forming between you two.

And how had you never heard of this new girl? How long had that been going on?

So many thoughts swirled around in your head as you made your way downstairs and out to the empty pool deck, pacing the familiar space. You tried to convince yourself that your feelings weren’t as strong as they actually were so that this could somehow be easier, but you knew it wouldn’t work.

The sound of the door sliding open caught your attention, your eyes meeting those all too familiar blue ones. “You okay?” he asked, leaning against the wall of the house. You flashed him a fake smile with a nod. “This doesn’t have anything to do with what I just-”

“No, no,” you cut him off, “I’m just restless right now, needed to get some energy out.”

He nodded, watching you cautiously, “I’m actually super tired, so I’m gonna get some sleep. I’ll see you in a few?”

You nodded, knowing full well you had no intention of getting back into his bed, “yeah, goodnight.” You turned your head to the ground, studying the cement below your feet.

The door opened and shut, but when you looked back up, Colson was still standing outside, watching you. “I don’t know why I said that. There isn’t a girl in quarantine. Well, I mean, there is, but we wouldn’t not be able to see each other.”

Your head was spinning, trying to make sense of whatever he was saying. He kept talking, “I got nervous and chickened out and then you left and I felt like an idiot.” You looked up to him, confusion evident on your face as he continued on the borderline of rambling, “so I’m just gonna throw this out there and whatever happens, happens.”

You stared at him blankly, not fully processing his words or what was happening.

“Would you wanna go on a date with me? Or, like, whatever kind of date we can pull off here?”

Your eyes went wide in shock, the rollercoaster you had just been on emotionally twisting your mind. You didn’t speak for a few moments, making Colson nervous, but you finally got out a stuttered, “yes.”

He sighed in relief, “god I feel like such a teenager right now.”

You came back to your senses, narrowing your eyes at him, “do you realize the emotional turmoil you just put me through? I feel like I’m crazy!”

He chuckled, moving towards you, and wrapping his arms around your waist, “I know, I’m an asshole. But it was worth it, right?”

“I was literally rethinking my entire life out here,” you pouted, leaning into his touch.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

You rolled your eyes, “look who’s all Mr. confident now.”

The vibrations of his laugh shook your own body, “well, you said yes. This would be a completely different story if you had said no. Then I would be the one rethinking my entire life.”

You smirked teasingly, “I could always change my mind.”

He shook his head with a chuckle, “shut up.” His lips met yours, one hand reaching up to softly hold your jaw. You melted into the kiss, your arms moving to wrap around his neck loosely.

You pulled away slowly, a smile spread on your face, “this almost makes not being able to sleep worth it.”

Tag list:

@bakerkells​ @elviablo​​ @iambashfulperson​ @sunflowerbebe107​ @crystalbaby12​ @stormrider505​ @ticketstomydaydreams​ @mvrylee @daddyavesxx​​ @pettyvxbes​ @prettydreamboy​

[221bshrlocked]

Show Me Your True Colors

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Fem!Reader

Words: 14092 (I swear this was supposed to be a short oneshot but it got out of hand. I'm so so sorry.)

Warnings: 28% smut, 72% plot. Penetrative, unprotected sex (wrap the shlong before you king kong my dudes). Oral (male and female receiving). Fingering and Squirting due to overstimulation. Some dom/sub elements but not full-on. Creampie. Rough handling (e.g. hair-pulling, spanking, hand-binding, some more hair-pulling). I think that's all?!

Inspired by these posts [x] [x] and by this lovely artist. Thanks @danniburgh for humoring me with my thots.

A/N: I came back from my temporary hiatus to post this because I couldn't wait. And now I shall return to my little corner again. Sorry guys these school/administrative issues are taking longer to deal with so I'm for the most part still away. This is not beta'd. Let me know how I'm doing in the comments please and reblogs are always appreciated. Enjoy. And you can add yourself to the taglist here.

It’s such a different atmosphere, from what he remembers at least. It’s been so long since he stepped foot on a university campus, and he can’t help but smile at the spectrum of personalities all around him. While some students lounge underneath the trees and on the grass, others ran hastily to their courses. Those were probably freshmen.

As he makes his way through the campus, he has to look at his phone numerous times to figure out where exactly he was going. That’s definitely one thing he didn’t miss about being in school, the fact that he was shit in directions and how he almost always got lost during the beginning of each semester.

When he does finally find the art history department, he silences his phone and heads to the first office he can find.

“Good afternoon, my name is Nicola. How can I help you?”

“Hi Nicola, I’m here to see Dr. Y/N Y/L/N. I was wondering if you could direct me to her office please?” Marcus smiles as he unbuttons his suit jacket, not realizing that his FBI tag was now visible to the world.

“She’s currently in one of her lectures, you could-” Marcus follows Nicola’s line of sight when she grows quiet and groans when he sees that she noticed his FBI tag.

“Please, she’s not in trouble. I am part of the FBI Art Crime Team, and I’m actually coming to ask if we could get her professional opinion on an artifact. Just need her to consult on something.” He smiles at Nicola and waits for her expression to relax before he continues.

“Do you mind telling me which lecture hall she’s in?”

“Y-yes, she’s in H140. Make a right at the door and it’s the hall all the way at the end.”

“Thank you Nicola, have a good day.” Marcus nods at her before he buttons his jacket again to avoid any suspicious, terrified looks as he makes his way to the lecture hall. He walks quietly, avoiding the students walking past him as they exit the rooms. When he reaches the door, he turns the knob slowly to not make any noise, hoping that he wasn’t being too disruptive once he walks in. As he shuts it behind him and looks around, his eyes almost fall out of their sockets.

There are at least 250, maybe 300 students filling the seats of the room. He awkwardly smiles when some students look to the side and see him standing at the foot of the door. He quickly takes a seat and says nothing as the students return their attention to the large projected screen. Marcus hears what he assumes is your voice through the large speakers but he can’t place your position. As he looks at the projected images, he finally catches you through his peripheral vision as you step off the railing near the exit doors at the front of the room.

“Because of this association with the gods, many amulets used to ward off the evil eye include depictions of mythological figures and deities who are almost, if not always, female. To the Greeks and Romans, the most common fascinations with an evil eye were women in any shape or form. They were thought to have the most powerful and harmful gaze that might kill if eye contact was established. That’s basically me telling you to never look me in the eye or else I will curse the cow of your second cousin twice removed.” Laughter reverberates off the walls at your joke and only grows louder when you whisper, “just kidding...or am I?” Marcus can’t help but smile at your jokes, watching with fascination as you move up and down the stairs of one side of the lecture hall once you continue to speak.

“Now, I know what some of you are thinking...isn’t that a bit sexist? Well, to the ancients, no. And to us, it’s kind of a meh thing. I know that doesn’t sound very feminist of me but it all comes down to the culture and the ancient practices that carried over. Just remember that it wasn’t because they were women, it was because they were thought to be powerful...a glass half-full kinda thing.” Marcus watches you closely as you maintain your focus on the students before you switch the slide and stand in the middle of the stairway with your back towards the projector.

“So, we find goddesses such as Erinnyes or the Furies associated with the evil eye because of their avenging nature. Their heads were covered in serpents and their eyes were always bloodshot and one of the Furies by the name of Megaera was considered in late antiquity as the personification of envy and whose eyes were the most envious and deadly of all the Furies. She was described by poets as baskanon omma pherousa...bearing the evil eye. Naturally, many children in late antiquity constantly wore amulets of stone galactite to protect them from the eyes of Megaera, and sometimes even wore necklaces with her face on it to counteract the evil eye of someone else and have her curse the ones who tried to harm them. Basically, the ancients were playing a game of tag with the evil eye.” You descend the stairs and walk to the other side of the hall, and Marcus feels his chest tighten with how much confidence you exude, not just through your words but with how you carry yourself as well.

“Perhaps the most famous of these dangerous women is Medusa who was one of the Gorgones in Greek mythology. The Gorgones were one of many female beings such as the Harpies, the Erinnyes, the Graiae, and the Keres, who were said to be grim-faced, and who held horrible looks. Briefly, the story tells of how she was one of the most beautiful women to ever walk the earth and later became hateful-looking by Athena as punishment for being raped by Poseidon in the middle of the huntress’ temple. Her hair became serpents and she was so furious that anyone who would look at her would turn into stone...at least that is the version you will hear from the “all-knowing” male scholars within this field. But, and I know I’m going on a rant here, if you’re like me, you’re more likely to argue that Athena pretended to hate Medusa. The serpents were no punishment! The goddess looked at the poor woman and gave her a weapon to use against men because unfortunately, she couldn’t do anything to avenge her...not only because she didn’t get along with Poseidon but also because he was a god as well. Anyway, back to Medusa’s amazing power which I would love to have so I could use it whenever I’m talking to some professors in this department...don’t quote me on that.” Again, Marcus chuckles at your side commentary and notices how calm and enjoyable the atmosphere of the lecture is. If only he had professors like you when he was in university.

“Even after she was decapitated by Perseus, her powers were very much alive and it is said that Athena placed Medusa’s image on her shield, once Perseus returned it, in order to use it when she hunted. This suggests that depictions of her severed head held apotropaic power and like earlier, one could use a creature who held the power of the evil eye against another being who is said to use the evil eye. Following this principle of similia similibus, it is not surprising that most of the amulets found in Greece and Rome contained illustrations of Medusa’s decapitated head on them. What was once the possessor of the evil eye became a protective symbol against the very same thing.” Just as you are about to continue with the next image, an alarm goes off and Marcus frowns in shock at how inconsiderate it was that phones weren’t silenced. But his surprise only heightens when he sees you running down the steps to your desk and picking up the phone sitting in the middle of the table.

“Ahhhh man, we were just about to get to the cavalier. That’s okay. Remember, the second response is due first thing on Friday. If you can’t turn it in during class, shoot me an email and we can work something out with my TAs. Go forth my clever spawns!” Marcus stands up and glues himself to the wall when he sees students emptying the lecture hall, his eyes on your form at the front of the class. He hopes you don’t leave out of the front exit and begins to make his way to you through the multitude of undergrads leaving. When he reaches your desk, he stands to the side until you finish chatting with one of the students and begins to collect your work.

“Dr. Y/L/N?”

“Please, it’s just Y/N. Who are you and how can I help you today?” You almost do a double take when you look up from your bag and see the man standing in front of you. To say that you were starstruck by the man in front of you would have been the understatement of the century.

“I’m Special Agent Marcus Pike,” he holds out his FBI tag for you and watches as you raise an eyebrow at him before you swing your bag across your shoulders and motion for him to follow you out of the hall.

“I would like to put it on record that I do not, in fact, wish to turn any of my colleagues to stone.” You joke, and Marcus senses that you are perhaps nervous at seeing his tag.

“Believe me, I would like to do that to some of mine as well...but no, not why I’m here.” Marcus clips the tag below his jacket as he walks with you.

“May I ask what I have done that caught the FBI’s attention?” You walk ahead of him, and ask him if it was okay for him to head over to your office with you.

“I’m with the FBI Art Crime Team and I’m here on a request. We would like to consult you on an open investigation and I came here to ask what your availability is.” Marcus follows you up the stairs, barely forcing his eyes to remain on your feet instead of elsewhere.

“Oh, me? That’s...wow. Of all the things I thought I would accomplish in my life, that’s definitely not one of them. May I ask what it is you need my opinion on?” You push open the doorway of the staircase and point at your office across the quiet hall.

“Unfortunately, there is a lot of paperwork you need to fill out before we get to work so I can’t disclose anything about the case until you sign in.” Marcus steps into the office behind you and watches as you set your things down before you move to your desk. He can’t help but feel his muscles loosen at the sight of the bookshelves across your room.

“This is probably the most exciting thing to happen to me all year long so yes, hundred percent. I’m available for the rest of the day today as well as tomorrow and Friday after lecture which ends at the same time as today’s.” You beam up at him as you take two books out of your bag and replace them with a folder that was sitting in the middle of your desk. Marcus looks at you quizzically, marveling at how much easier this was going. He genuinely thought he was going to meet with someone who was probably a bit proud and perhaps as much of an asshole as his previous professors but you were so much different than anyone he’s ever met within this field.

“Are you sure? I understand if you need to take a week or two-”

“No please, you’ll be saving me from faculty lunches and two seminars by colleagues that I genuinely cannot fucking stand- oh, sorry. Sorry, didn’t mean to-” You swing your leather bag around your shoulder again and shut the blinds of the windows before you walk to the door.

“Please, you don’t have to worry about that with me.” Marcus chuckles at the excitement rolling off of you and bites his lower lip when he watches you quickly fix your hair.

“I might need to have lunch on the way to your office though if that’s okay?” You take a plastic container out of your bag and smile sheepishly at him as you lock your door.

“Wow...is your bag bigger on the inside or something? And, yeah fine by me.” He pushes his hands into his pockets again and walks next to you, a little corner in his heart gradually filling with hope letting him know that he should be cautious. He didn’t want a repeat of last time.

You both chat briefly on your way to headquarters and Marcus apologizes every time he looks over and sees you struggling with your food. By the time you make it to the building, Marcus can tell you are a bit nervous and he assures you once more that this was merely a consultation.

“Wait how did you even find me?” You take your jacket off along with everything in your pockets, laying them down near your bag as they go through the scanner. Marcus passes through with his badge and waits for you on the other side, picking up your things as you put your jacket back on.

“I made some calls and a friend suggested to get in touch with you because of your expertise.”

“Oh now we’re getting somewhere. You have a Greek artifact don’t you?” Marcus halts in his steps and looks over to you as he shuts his eyes in irritation. He should have watched what he said.

“S-sorry I couldn’t help it. I’ll stop until I fill out whatever paperwork you have for me.” You take your things from him and walk quietly as he leads you to the elevators.

“I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s not personal, it’s just-”

“Business I know. I know. I’m so used to watching this kind of stuff in movies that I tend to forget it’s all fake and you’re...the real deal.” You hope he doesn’t see the way your eyes trail over his taller form, silently cursing yourself when you meet his eyes and notice how he’s already staring at you with a smile.

“Sorry.” You apologize again and look straight ahead, hands tightening around the leather strap when you realize that he’s still looking at you.

Marcus fists the hands in his pockets to prevent himself from saying anything else that might make you uncomfortable, and he looks at the increasing numbers as they reach his floor. A loud ring signals your arrival and Marcus stretches out his hand so you could walk ahead of him. You wait until he tells you where to go and say nothing when he stops for a second and whispers something to another agent.

When you arrive at his office, you stand to the side and wait for him to tell you what to do.

“What’re you doing all the way over there? Come here.” Marcus calls you over to his desk and smiles, hoping to put you a little at ease. You step towards him and set your stuff on the floor as you sit opposite him on one of the two chairs. He pulls out a couple of files and sets them in front of you in four different piles.

“That’s a lot of paperwork.” You chuckle nervously as you take out a pen from your bag.

“I know, I’m sorry. But that’s why I’m here. These are the building rules and your signature is basically you telling us you’ll abide by all of them.”

“I don’t know any of them.” You respond immediately, and rub harshly at the pen between your fingers.

“I’ll be with you at all times so you don’t have to worry about that.” His smile throws you off guard and you nod before you sign the highlighted areas.

“And these are you swearing that you will tell no one of whatever you see, hear, do, etc. within the building.” You nod and sign through the stapled paperwork before sliding them his way.

“We’re almost done. These two are like the second pile but they have to do with this case specifically. And they extend to outside the premises, meaning that if I or another agent on the case tells you anything that has to do with your work here today while we’re grabbing coffee from across the street, you can’t say it to a living soul.” Marcus points at the four highlighted boxes and tells you to sign the date next to them as well.

“So I can say it to my dead cousin?” You ask as you sign the two papers and hand them to him, unable to hold your laughter when he shakes his head as he pushes the last pile towards you.

“I had a feeling you were going to say that.”

“Can’t help it.”

“And finally, these are you swearing that whatever you tell us today, be it an opinion, a fact, or anything else, is the absolute truth. Basically, you’re not fucking with us.” You raise an eyebrow at his choice in words and he shrugs his shoulders as he motions for the empty spaces again. When you’re done, Marcus collects all the files and places them in a folder before he unlocks his desk and pushes them inside.

“I don’t ever want to see my signature again.” You whisper as he leads you out of the office towards a conference room. He holds the door for you and nods ahead, waiting for you to step in before he shuts the door behind him and turns around. You try to ignore the hand pushing on your lower back as you walk in and spot three gentlemen and one woman standing towards the end of the long table.

“Wow, that was quick.” The female agent is first to speak and you say nothing as Marcus introduces you to them.

“Thank you for coming on such a short notice.”

“Of course. This is very exciting for me so I’m happy to help in any way.” You shake her hand and stand to the side as Marcus motions for you to sit down.

“This is Lydia, Ethan, Henry, and Noah.” Marcus points to each member of his team as he pulls out a chair next to you and sits down.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You nod towards them and look at the folder that Lydia hands to you. Marcus says something as you flip open the folder but you can’t respond, eyes almost falling out of their sockets as you take in the large image on the page. You look up at Marcus and everyone else before you return your attention to the picture.

“You recognize what this is then?” Ethan breaks the silence and watches as you move through the pages quickly.

“Umm, that seems like an oversimplification but yes.” You continue to study the images in front of you for another few minutes before you set them down and look up at Marcus.

“Some explanation would really help me out right now.” You tap softly on the papers, and your mind conjures up the wildest possible stories behind the images currently displayed in front of you.

“Oh right yes. We received a tip from the Smithsonian’s acquisitions department about a man trying to sell them this artifact for three million dollars,” Marcus notices your eyes widen but he continues, “but they’re not sure if it’s stolen or not. And he refuses to cooperate.”

“Which is where you come in. Have you seen anything like this before and if so, where?” Lydia stares at you as you return your attention to the pictures again.

“And the Smithsonian can’t confirm this?”

“Far from it. Marcus here is just afraid they’ll eventually get greedy and do anything to get their hands on it.” You look next to you and watch a faint blush take over the agent’s handsome features.

“I mean I don’t blame you. There are a bunch of real assholes in this field.” You laugh when he gives Lydia a ‘told you’ look.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’ll be able to help you if I don’t see the actual pendant.” You shut the folder and push it away from you.

“That might be a problem.” Henry takes his glasses off and proceeds to clean them as he looks at his co-workers.

“Why? Do you not have it anymore?” Your heart skips a beat at the prospect of the FBI losing such an object.

“Oh no we have it. Our guy is afraid we’ll switch it out with a fake so he refuses to hand it to us unless he’s in the same room.”

“That’s funny. Is there a rule that says I can’t look at it while this man is in the room?” You ask Marcus and he can’t help but notice how giddy you’re being all of a sudden. Your excitement is almost palpable and he wills himself to focus on the question and not how you bite your lower lip as you wait for him.

“I mean…”

“You’re all going to be in the room aren’t you?” You cut him off before he says anything and when they all nod, you turn to Marcus once more and wait for his response.

“I guess it’s fine.” Marcus reluctantly answers before he asks Ethan and Noah to bring the man from the interrogation room he’s been in for the past couple of hours. Lydia and Henry let you in on more details and Marcus watches as you furrow your eyebrows in focus, occasionally cutting them off to ask them a question.

Fifteen minutes later and a knock on the door breaks you out of your haze. You look up just as Ethan and Noah walk in with a man in front of them. You say nothing as they bring him to your side of the room and set him down across from you.

“How many times do I have to tell you, I didn’t steal it. I found it!” Your ears perk at his comment but you say nothing as he crosses his arms and narrows his eyes at you.

“May I see it?” You ask before anyone else says anything and the man continues to stare at you before he ignores your question.

“Please, I’m just here to confirm your story. I know for a fact there isn’t a museum out there that has this.” You notice the hardened expression on Henry’s face but he says nothing. A few long moments pass by and the man shifts to take something out of the inside his jacket. You inhale deeply and watch as he unwraps the cloth before he places the small pendant on the table in front of you.

“May I?” You ask again and if Marcus didn’t know any better, he’d think that you’re just trying to put the man at ease. If you were nervous around five FBI agents and you did nothing wrong, then his little thief must have been scared shitless.

When the man nods, you bring out a pair of gloves from your handbag and put them on, forcing yourself to remain calm as you pick up the pendant.

“What a beautiful work of art you are baby. Red jasper, my favorite!” Your excited words break the silence and you look up at the man in front of you with a smile, feeling your hands sweat when he slowly returns the expression.

Got you.

“Greek is marvelous...crystal clear, grammatically correct, unique placement.” It’s as silent as a cemetery and Marcus watches you closely as you narrow your eyes and adjust the stone under the light. If he wasn’t dealing with a criminal and a potentially stolen artifact, he would have told you how beautiful you looked when you were deep in the middle of a task.

“Hmm, what is this 6th century-ish spell? Oh my bad, no no no, I tend to mix them up sometimes. It’s definitely a 7th century formula.” You make an awkward face and watch as Lydia shakes her head at your little mix up.

“Now, let’s see what you got on the other side sweetheart.” You carefully turn the amulet around in the palm of your hand and barely hold back from gasping dramatically.

“My god...what a goddamn sight...oh oops sorry, that was probably blasphemous. A perfectly etched crucifixion...cross with 4 sides, with a plaque at the top...and of course, can’t forget the clothed Christ. The detail on this is truly unlike anything I’ve ever seen, down to the ‘Iesous Xristos Theou Yios Sotare’ around the figure. Where did you say you found it again?” You casually ask as you continue to inspect the stone, almost laughing when the man responds immediately to your question.

“Mount Athos.” Marcus turns to his team in shock. You’d managed to get the information out of him so easily while they spent an entire day trying to get him to say anything. It was a little funny how at ease the man seemed now, leaning forward towards you as you flipped the stone around.

“Ohh the hub of Eastern monasteries. Boy is this the most valuable artifact I’ve ever had the pleasure of looking at then.” You set it down on the cloth and wrap it up before taking your gloves off and leaning back on the chair.

“See, told you its one of a kind. No one’s ever found anything like it before.” The man beams at you before he takes the object and puts it back in his jacket.

“Oh yeah it’s one of a kind alright...because it’s the most fake amulet I’ve ever had the misfortune of examining. I honestly don’t think I’ve ever been this disappointed in my life. And here I thought another one of these was out there. Did you even bother to do any research on this?” You frown at him and cross your arms in irritation, completely missing Marcus’ reaction and how he turns to Lydia to confirm that yes, you just said that it was a fake artifact.

“W-what?”

“I’d love to know where you got the red jasper because you could have fooled me with that. Let’s break this down shall we? The Greek is perfect, too perfect if I’m being honest. You never have grammatically correct syntax etched on a magical amulet, let alone proper diction. Oh and you should have probably used Classical Greek instead of modern Greek, like were you even trying? Really bad move to use a 7th century formula with a non-altered 6th century spell. The formula didn’t even exist yet!” You tilt your head to the side and watch as the man in front of you begins to fidget. His smile is replaced with a shocked expression and you watch as it slowly becomes angry.

Marcus was speechless. He never saw this coming and was looking at you with a mixture of awe and surprise at the turn of events. He could only stare at you as he took in your energy, the same confidence and intelligence he saw earlier in the day when he walked into your lecture.

“As for the back, you never get 4-sided crosses with these, only three, and the head of Christ makes up the fourth which you don’t actually see because of his head. No plaque, too detailed and non-existent in protection spells. Christ is always nude on magical amulets by the way...yes it’s weird, but it’s a fucking amulet and he was just some extra deity. And finally, never, ever, write out ‘Iesous Xristos Theou Yios Sotare.’ You write the acronym IXOYE.” You flip open the folder that was in front of you and grab a sharpie from Marcus’ file, circling the first letter of each Greek word and holding it up as if he was one of your students and you were trying to lecture him.

“Don’t even get me started on your provenance. Mount Athos? I mean for fuck’s sake, Constanza would have been a better option. At least we actually found amulets out there. How much was he asking for this?” You turn to Marcus and completely miss the starstruck eyes he’s giving you. When you raise an eyebrow at him, he finally realizes that you asked him a question.

“Uhhh 3 mil.”

“Oh boy...yeah, this is worth jack shit. Wouldn’t even do it’s intended job if you actually wore it as a protection pendant.” You watch as the man’s expression changes from anger to outrage and you barely have any time to push away your chair and hide behind Marcus before the man tries to jump on top of the table towards you. It takes Ethan and Noah approximately five seconds to tackle him down before they take him out of the room. You watch as they reach for the amulet in his pocket and give it to Henry just as they push him out.

You’re still coming down from the adrenaline rush when Marcus turns around and asks you if you are alright. As soon as you see the gun in his hands, your hold on his jacket tightens and you gulp nervously when you meet his eyes. He apologizes quickly once he sees where you’re looking and quickly puts the gun back in its holster.

“You okay?” Marcus holds your wrist and rubs his thumb over your pulse point until you begin to relax. You fix your jacket and take a deep breath before you meet his eyes, almost gasping when you see how dark and oddly calming they are.

“Didn’t think a consultation would get this exciting but uhh, yeah I’m good. I think.” You try to laugh it off but looking at the object in Henry’s hand makes you realize that the last five minutes did really happen and you actually managed to piss off someone to the point where he tried to attack you.

“And we were worried it was stolen…” Lydia shakes her head when she takes the amulet and swirls it around in her hand.

“I might be wrong but I think you should try to find out who made it, especially because of the red jasper. This came real close to a fake. And you should also try to date it as well...there might be more of these out there.” You smile when Lydia agrees and collects the folders on the table, thanking you on her way out.

“My pleasure...apart from that last bit.” You laugh it off and watch as she exits the conference room with Henry.

“So…” You turn to Marcus and whisper a quick thank you when he hands you your bag.

“So, this definitely wasn’t what I had in mind when I asked you to consult on this case. I- I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am that this happened. It’s not always like this, I promise. The exciting stuff usually happens when we find guys like him in abandoned warehouses.” Marcus continues to word vomit as he leads you back to his office.

“It’s okay really. My advisor always warned me about this.”

“About working with the FBI?”

“No no, about rambling so much that I piss off someone to the point where they try to kill me.” You’re taken aback by Marcus’ laugh and can’t help but giggle along with him as he leans back in his chair and continues to laugh.

“I hope that doesn’t mean you won’t work with us again?” There’s something in his voice that doesn’t ease the butterflies in your stomach and you place your hand on your chest dramatically as you bat your eyes at him.

“Why Agent Pike, are you trying to recruit me to the FBI?” You ask sarcastically and watch as he shrugs his shoulders before shutting off his computer and standing up.

“Just a consult here and there, should we meet another Greco-Roman artifact? Or...a fake one I guess.” You swallow the lump in your throat when you see the way he’s looking at you and hope that you’re not misreading any signs.

“Can I take you out to dinner? As a thank you and an apology for putting your life in danger?” Marcus is reluctant to ask but he takes the leap of faith and hopes that you wouldn’t reject him.

“I- actually...in all honesty, I don’t think I’ll do well in public after that whole thing.” You gesture towards the outside offices, and Marcus nods in disappointment and contemplates on whether he should ask you to dinner some other time. You never give him a chance to follow-up though.

“How about take-out at my place?” You stand up and smile when you see his eyes beam with excitement as he fixes his tie and motions towards the door.

“Lead the way doctor.” You flush under the title and walk ahead so he doesn’t notice the obvious effect he’s having on you. You glance at Marcus every now and then as you make your way out of the building and towards his car.

You chat about random things as he drives through the busy streets, and you feel your heart skip a beat when he says something scandalous about your favorite Impressionist artwork, not because of the comment but because of the way he winks at you as he slides his hand to your thighs and nudges them to let you know he was just joking. You hope that Marcus asks for your number by the end of the night, maybe even invite you to dinner again, because if you’re being honest, it’s been a while since you met a decent guy and he’s been checking all of your boxes all day long.

Kind. Intelligent. Hard-working. Funny. And of course, attractive. There was something about the way he smiles and you kept on replaying the moment he hid you behind him and continued to ask if you were alright.

“What do you mean you don’t like Bal du moulin de la Galette? It’s one of the most magnificent paintings out there. Best of Renoir’s if you ask me.” You unlock the door and switch on the lights, throwing your coat and bag on the wall before telling Marcus to make himself at him. He takes his jacket off and hangs it as well, turning around to continue his argument.

“Listen, I’m just not a crowd kind of guy. I’m more of a Paris Street, Rainy Day man okay so-”

“Why am I not surprised by that?” You laugh as you bring him a cup of water, hoping you were being subtle as you continued to check out the gun resting in his holster. Shaking your head, you take your phone out again and tell him that it’ll take you a few minutes to order pizza since neither of you can make up your mind.

Marcus looks around when you walk away to place the order, his eyes taking in the three bookshelves behind your couch. It’s almost as if the office space wasn’t enough so you had to make more room for all of your textbooks and novels. Maybe it was the other way around…

He takes a sip of water and glances to the side, instantly choking on the liquid when his eyes zero in on the three watercolor paintings hanging above your television. Marcus blinks rapidly and rubs his eyes to make sure that he wasn’t seeing things. He approaches the wall and looks between the three artworks, unable to tear his gaze away. He notices new details every time he focuses on a different corner of each painting, and his pants suddenly feel uncomfortable when he shifts closer.

“Pizza will be here in thirty-ish minutes and-” You almost drop the phone when Marcus jumps back and almost trips over his own feet. “Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.” When you walk closer and see the blush creeping down his neck, you can’t help but giggle and glance at your paintings, almost as if you were taunting him into commenting on your choice in decoration.

“These are...interesting.” Marcus avoids looking at them when you stand next to him, merely pointing to the side as he looks at you.

“Oh no...here we go. I know what that means. You don’t like them?” You tilt your head to the side and hold back from smiling when he takes a long sip of water before he sets down the glass.

“N-no no, that’s not...I didn’t mean- I just...it’s a bold choice.” His stutter makes you laugh even harder and you apologize when his blush deepens. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh. It’s always really funny when people come over because I get all kinds of reactions but you’re definitely the first guy that doesn’t call me a slut because I have pornographic paintings hanging in my living room.”

“Why not? The Dutch lords and the Italian merchants did it, why can’t you?” Marcus is almost offended by the remark and he forgets all about the awkwardness of the paintings when he sees you nod aggressively in agreement.

“Exactly!? Why is a guy allowed to hang an Odalisque in his home but I can’t hang some BDSM scenes?” You take the glass from the table and ask him if he wants more. Marcus shakes his head and quickly attempts to fix himself through his pants before you return.

“So you like them then?” You lounge on one chair and wait for Marcus to sit on the couch before you ask him.

“It’s a different aesthetic I think, and it somehow goes well with your bookshelves. Something about textbooks and nude paintings depicting sex just goes together...can’t explain how. And kudos to the artist too! The brushstrokes, the layering, the complementary colors...the scenes and positions are so natural. They’re perfect combinations. Did you pick them or did you commission them?”

“Oh I commissioned two of them. The third was just too good to not order. I’ll ask you this then, which ones do you think I commissioned?” Marcus glances to the canvases again and grows quiet for a few moments, his eyes switching from one painting to another before he meets your gaze.

“I think you commissioned the two on the left.”

“Why?” You try to hide how impressed you are by how he correctly figured you out, almost cringing when the question leaves your mouth before you could stop yourself. As much as you enjoy where this conversation was going, you really hope this wouldn’t lead to some misogynistic response on his part. Just as Marcus is about to respond, the doorbell rings and you tell him you’ll be right back.

Marcus thanks the heavens that the pizza arrives because he isn’t sure how he could respond to that question without accidentally giving his train of thoughts away. When you come back with plates and napkins, Marcus thanks you and proceeds to separate the pizza slices.

“It was the closest I could get to owning something that resembled the area I study.” You say through chewing and Marcus furrows his eyebrows, silently asking you to elaborate on your comment.

“Nudity I mean. I can’t afford sculptures so I settled with these.”

“They are beautiful. And the positions are-” Marcus stops abruptly when he realizes that his inner monologue just rolled off of his tongue.

“Go on, what were you going to say?”

“I- uh, I just think that the positions are intimate. And they become more intimate the longer you look at them.” He chews faster when you nod and take another slice of pizza.

“You have a favorite?” You ask and pretend you aren’t paying attention to every single word he says. You get the sense that he has a lot to say about the paintings but is choosing to hold back so you don’t get the wrong idea about why he is having dinner with you in your apartment after only knowing you for a few hours.

“Definitely the middle one.” His answer surprises you, especially because the one on the right has handcuffs and you genuinely thought he’d be into that because of his line of work.

“Really? Why?”

“Oh...I- this might sound weird but I think the scene is intense and- and close? Private? I’m not sure what it is I’m trying to say but the fact that she’s completely nude except for the panties around her thighs while he’s fully clothed and is focusing on her pleasure is- it’s intimate. And the hand on her back is a mixture of dominance and care, like he’s letting her know that she has his undivided attention but she has to behave for him.” You’re not sure when exactly you stopped eating and you clear your throat when you realize that Marcus was looking at you to gauge your reaction.

“Y-yeah that...ahuh.” Something about the way he says the word ‘behave’ twists your insides and you immediately stand up and head to the kitchen, whispering something about needing to wash down the food with something. Marcus eats quietly and hopes he hasn’t just made things even more awkward. When you come back and hand him a glass of red wine, Marcus relaxes and continues to eat.

“Have you ever drawn something like this?” You shake your head as you take a sip of the wine, laying against the back of the couch and crossing your legs.

“I wish. Human anatomy is so fascinating I think. I sometimes get this adrenaline rush when I look at the far right one and I tell myself that I’ll sketch all the risque and open positions I can think of but then I remember how long it would take me to finish one piece and I- I don’t have time for that sadly.”

“You can always start out with simpler ones? Maybe solo pieces, and move up from there.” Marcus mirrors you and sits back with the wine glass in his hand.

“Yeah, but I just love this kind of genre so much. It needs to be passionate, and sexy and out there you know.” Marcus smiles at the energetic response, feeling much more relaxed now that he’s had a cup of wine and found chatting about your choice in decoration less awkward.

“I get you. It’s why that lifestyle is interesting to so many people. The whole dynamic, whether we’re talking about the figures in the scene or actual partners, is based on that trust. You- you have to create that sense of trust and comfort for the scene to be enjoyable...pleasurable. It’s not as easy as some think it to be. As a Dom, you have to be aware of your partner at all times and the effect you have on them. And the same goes for a Sub too. You need to ensure that your Dom knows how much trust you put in them and the level of dedication that’s going into the scene. Both parties are depending on each other and it’s- it’s amazing.” Marcus smiles when he notices the intensity swimming in your eyes and he gives you a few seconds to collect your bearings before he asks his next question.

“Would you draw something as intimate as that?” He breaks the silence and watches your train of thought come and go.

“Would you?” You throw the question right back at him, holding in a breath when you see him lean forward with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“I would...but only if I have the right model.” Marcus doesn’t know where all of this is coming from but he can’t find it in himself to break whatever bubble the two of you found yourselves in. You’re silent for a few moments, long enough for Marcus to think that maybe, just maybe, he’s crossed the line.

But then you’re smiling at him mischievously, chugging down the rest of the wine before standing up and heading towards the hallway.

“I have an easel and some 16x20 papers lying around...I hope you don’t mind working with chalk.” You throw back at him before you walk down the hallway and Marcus has to give himself a quick pep talk before he follows you. He slowly makes his way into your bedroom and stands at the doorstep until you allow him to come in.

“I think the lighting is best in this corner but you’ll be the one working so sit wherever you prefer.” You bring over a chair and set it in front of the easel before you grab the large box of supplies and pull out all the chalk sticks that you have. Marcus nods in silence as he pushes the easel closer to your bed and begins to choose which of the chalk sticks he wants. There is a variety of shapes and sizes, and he’s not sure if he should start out bold or if he should ease himself into this. It’s been a while since he’s drawn a model and he really doesn’t want to screw up, especially because it is you.

Marcus is so busy preparing his workstation that he doesn’t notice you stripping off your clothes. You keep your eyes on him and find the little scrunch he does with his eyebrows when he focuses on something endearing. Taking a deep breath, you take off your bra and panties before laying on the bed and getting in a comfortable position. Your movements are minimal, and you stretch out your legs in wait for him. You fight the part of you that’s yelling at you to cover yourself and keep your focus on him to gauge his reaction.

“Pose however you want and we can work on the postures once we-” The words die in his throat as soon as he looks up from the easel and sees your state of dress, or lack thereof. The thick chalk stick he’s holding between his fingers snaps in half and breaks the blanket of silence that fell on the room. He visibly gulps and doesn’t try to hide the way his eyes trail down your form slowly before they return to look into your dilated ones. Marcus knows for a fact that the image of your heaving chest and hardened nipples will forever be etched in his mind.

“I- uhh, are you...c-comfortable?” He hates how much he’s stuttering and you smile at him when you notice how he is focusing on the wall behind you and not you.

You look around for a few moments, grabbing a couple of pillows and placing them behind your back before you stretch out one leg and bend the other one to your chest. Marcus almost chokes on his breath when he sees how open you are being with him but he says nothing and turns his attention to the blank piece of paper underneath his hand.

“I’m ready.” Your voice brings him out of his stupor and he nods briefly as he tries to reason with himself. He cannot draw you unless he looks at you. But he is well aware of the hardening predicament he’s currently suffering from and he’s sure you probably noticed by now the effect you were having on him.

“I won’t tell you how to do your job Agent, but artists usually have to look at the models they’re drawing to...you know, draw them.” Marcus rolls his eyes at the teasing remark, briefly glancing at you with a raised eyebrow before he begins to softly outline the shape of your shoulders. His cock twitches in his pants and he tries his hardest to not squirm too much in his seat. But every time his eyes move towards your nude form laying not five feet away from him, he silently curses himself and pretends he’s fine and that he isn’t imagining pushing you down and shoving his tongue deep into your wet cunt.

“Are you usually this quiet when you’re sketching, Agent Pike?” Something about the way you’re addressing him makes him clench his jaw tightly and he unintentionally whispers a little louder than he intends in response.

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

Your giggles let him know that you heard his remark and he is sure his face is growing a deeper shade of red but he shrugs his shoulders and ignores your obvious amusement. Marcus swallows the lump in his throat as he shifts his focus below your neck, parting his lips when he notices the tilt of your head from his peripheral vision as he ceases all movement and continues to stare at your chest.

“Oh sorry, is my arm in the way,” you lower your arms and move them behind you to support your weight, never breaking eye contact with him as you rock your bent leg back and forth and give him a full view of your most intimate parts.

Marcus is almost shaking in his seat at the sight of your breasts, unaware that he’s harshly rubbing the chalk stick with his thumb the more your leg sways to the side and reveals the outer folds of your pussy.

“P-perfect, thank you.” He whispers and returns to the sheet in front of him, biting into his lower lip as he rolls the chalk across and sketches the curves of your breasts. For a moment, he forgets what he is doing and narrows his eyes at the shapes in front of him before he smudges the black material across to shade in the skin. He looks back and forth for a couple of minutes until he’s happy with the shading of your body.

You marvel at how he’s managing to keep it together for this long when all you can think about is begging for him to fuck you into the mattress. You thought it would be easy for him to break but ever the gentleman, he takes the task seriously and tries his hardest to not dwell on your skin for longer than necessary.

A thought comes through your mind and you smile to yourself as you shift your bent leg to the side and move the other one until it falls from the side of the bed. You stare at him and hope this is what finally does the trick. And you don’t have to wait for too long because the next time Marcus looks at you, he takes a double-take and doesn’t bother to hide how he’s only focusing on the skin between your thighs.

“I thought it would be easier for you, you know. Easier access and everything.” You’re not sure what you’re going on about but you can tell that it’s taking every ounce of control in his body to not pounce on you. You hold your breath when Marcus stands up and meets your eyes, and you think this is it. This is the moment you’ve been waiting for.

But then he’s freeing the paper from the easel and moving towards you, his expression never once giving his plan away. You gulp when he kneels at the foot of your bed and sets the paper between your thighs.

“You’re right, easier access,” Marcus says as he brings the chalk down on the paper and sketches your thighs, not bothering for propriety as his eyes zero in on your slit. You know you’re wet and you can feel slick easing down your folds but you don’t move a muscle, watching him as he expertly outlines your skin before he rubs the chalk with his thumb to shade the area again.

“It’s not quite how I want it…” His remark makes you shiver and you’re about to beg him to forgo the sketch when he leans forward and nudges your legs apart, perhaps a little carelessly, before he collects your arousal with his middle finger and swipes it across your folds. You’re shocked by the turn of events and barely hold back from moaning as he dips the clean finger into your pussy and rubs your walls for a few more seconds, his soft brown eyes turning dangerous as pushes his finger a little deeper and bites his lower lip when he feels you clenching around him. Marcus turns his attention back to you, his jaw tensing when he sees sheer bliss etched on your expression. Your little gasps are music to his ears and just as he feels your hips moving against him, he pulls his hand away.

You watch him like a hawk as he inspects his finger, gasping when he smudges at the chalk on the sketch to create darker shades around your center.

“Hmm, that’s more like it.” Marcus turns to you and smirks when he sees your parted lips turn into a frown.

“Do you not like it?” He feigns ignorance and raises an eyebrow when your frown deepens as you move back into your pillows. You lean back but continue to hold his gaze as you part your thighs and lazily stroke your cunt. Marcus slowly puts down the paper and chalk onto the floor and stands up just as you begin to pinch your nipples.

“Please…” Your whispered plea shoots straight to his cock and he laughs when it turns into a whine once he makes his way to the bathroom in your room. He says nothing as he quickly washes his hands and dries them before moving back and standing next to your bed.

You don’t stop touching yourself, hoping the needy sight of you is all the push he needs to take what he wants.

“What’s your safeword doctor?” Marcus keeps his hands in his pockets as he trails his eyes down your shivering body. He’s itching to touch you but he remains still and waits for confirmation that you do, in fact, want this as much as him. A part of him knows that the two of you should probably slow down and perhaps discuss whatever this is before you go any further. But it feels right being here with you. And he doesn’t want to give it up just yet.

“J-Jasper.” Your voice breaks when you see the hunger swimming in his eyes and you shift to the center of your bed as Marcus kicks off his shoes before taking off his socks.

“Hmm.” Marcus hums as he takes off the holster from his belt and quietly places the gun on your nightstand. When he turns back and sees you watching the gun and increasing your movements, he groans down at you before walking around the bed.

“Maybe another time baby...when you and I are a little more acquainted with each other.” You flush at the implications behind his words and nod at him. You watch as he begins to roll up his sleeves and your anticipation grows with each inch of skin he reveals.

“You look so pretty sweetheart, all needy and desperate for my touch. Do you want to cum baby?” Marcus asks teasingly and you nod frantically as you begin to push two fingers into your cunt.

“Nuh uh, use your words. I’ll let it go this time but from now on, you use your words if you want something from me.” His tone is less gentle and your inner walls spasm at the thought of hearing that same commanding voice telling you to get on your knees for him.

“S-sorry yes...yes please. I- I want to cum, please.” Marcus smiles in amusement as he steps closer to the bed until his knees touch the mattress.

“Good girl. Now, if you really want to cum, then you better come here and suck me off. Be a good girl for me and show me what that sweet fucking mouth of yours can do.” His chest puffs out proudly when he sees how quickly you’re moving to please him. You lay on your stomach and palm him through his pants, moaning along with him when you find him hard and ready for you.

“May I undress you?”

“Go on sweetheart, take what you want.” Marcus caresses your cheek as you excitedly unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. He doesn’t dare look away as you shove his pants down his thighs before leaning forward and nuzzling your nose into the bulge of his boxer briefs.

“Fuck baby, are you trying to kill me?” You giggle and shake your head in response, purposely rubbing his length with your nose just before you feel his fingers combing through your hair and tugging on it.

“Remember sweetheart...bad girls don’t get to cum. Stop your teasing before I shove my cock down your throat.” Marcus pulls on your hair harshly and groans when he sees you smiling up at him.

“Is that a promise Agent Pike?” You know you’re pushing his buttons and don’t hold back from gasping his name as he rolls you onto your back and aggressively pushes his boxer briefs down far enough to free his cock. He’s not really a vain man but seeing you lick your lips and inch closer to him as you stare at his hard dick makes him just a little cocky.

“Go on baby, open your mouth. Part those pretty fucking lips for me.” Marcus pats your lips softly and shivers when you respond to him right before you shut your eyes and wait for him to give you his cock.

“Yes sir.”

His knees buckle for a second the moment you take his tip into your mouth and suck on it. Marcus is torn between throwing his head back to enjoy the softness of your mouth and keeping his eyes on you as you suck on his cock. He leans forward and bites his cheek when you relax your throat and take more of his cock down your throat.

“P-part your legs for me baby please. Let me- oh fuck, your mouth is made of magic sweetheart. Let me- let me see how wet that pretty cunt is.” Marcus is already breathing heavily and he furrows his eyebrows in focus, not wanting to end this night early. You swallow around him a few times and hum when you feel his hand cupping your breasts while the other rests around your throat.

Taking a deep breath through your nose, you try to take him down as deep as possible just as you part your thighs and begin to play with your pussy. Marcus groans and swears above you as you work him expertly and he can’t hold back from pushing the palm of his hand a little harder on your throat. He can feel his cock passing across your pharynx and moans your name over and over again when he looks down and sees drool rolling down your cheeks.

“Ahh fuck oh god, s-sweetheart you’re a fucking dream. W-where have you been all my life?” Marcus continues to kneed at your tits, but when he gets a little irritated when he sees your fingers rubbing your clit. Without warning, he leans forward as far as he can and slaps your hand away, replacing it with his own and biting his cheek when he finds you soaking.

“Shit baby, you’re so wet. Is this all for me?” You hum around him and twitch in surprise when you feel two of his thick fingers pushing past your wet folds and into your cunt. You’re already so close to coming from his teasing and you whimper when he nudges your thighs apart aggressively.

“Keep those legs open for me baby. Shit, the smell of you is fucking intoxicating. Fuck, that it’s, get on your hands and knees for me.” Marcus moves away and silences you with one look when you start to whine and reach for his cock.

“Unless you want to call it a night, you’ll get on your fucking hands and knees for me. Shit baby I’ve wanted to shove my tongue in that pussy as soon as you stripped for me.” He never breaks eye contact as he kicks away his pants and briefs before he makes quick work of his shirt. You quickly turn around and bite into your wrist as you get on all fours and try to look at him through your elbow. You reach down and ease two fingers into your cunt as you take in his broad shoulders and lean form. You swear his muscles flex the longer you stare at him and when you finally look at him, you’re a little embarrassed at being caught openly ogling him.

“Look at you, like a bitch in heat.” Regret rolls off of him as soon as he registers what he just said. An apology is on the tip of his tongue but then you’re arching your back and shifting closer to him, giving him a show as you curve your knuckles to try and hit that sweet spot inside of you.

“Oh aren’t you the prettiest sweetheart in the world.” You moan his name when he caresses your back and kneels behind you, laying soft kisses across your back as he palms and lightly smacks your ass. Marcus removes your hand away slowly but not before licking your fingers and humming around them as the taste of you fills his mouth.

“Marcus please...I- I need you inside me.”

“What do you need from me? You want my tongue and fingers? Or do you think this cunt is ready to take my cock?” Marcus nips at your skin and pushes a hand on your lower back when you try and move away from him.

“W-whatever you want...just- need to feel you inside me. I don’t care, please. Oh fuck...please.” You squeal when Marcus spreads your cheeks apart and spits on your slit right before licking across your cunt. You fist your hands into the sheets and bite down on your wrist when you feel his nose nudge at your entrance as his tongue flicks your engorged clit.

“Good answer sweetheart,” you hear him whisper just as he kisses across your folds and dips his tongue into your core. You’re already shaking with need and rock back against him, hoping he’d end your agony and give you his fingers as well. Marcus is losing his mind and he tries his hardest to focus on pleasuring you. But it’s so hard to hold back when you’re whimpering at his touch and shoving your pussy in his face to get more friction.

“Stop moving,” Marcus growls against you, and you cry out his name when his palms land on your ass cheeks three consecutive times before he rubs the reddening skin.

“Oh god, your tongue feels so good Marcus. D-don’t stop, please. I want to cum, l-let me cum. You’re so fucking- ahh s-shit.” You think you feel him smile against you as he pushes two fingers into your pussy but you can’t be sure because you suddenly feel full. Fuck, and it’s only his fingers.

“Jesus Christ sweetheart, you’re so fucking tight. Can’t wait to feel you around my cock.” He slowly parts you with his fingers and groans when he feels you squeezing his fingers. When you try to move against him again, Marcus slithers his hand across your back and grabs your neck, pushing your face into the bed as he leans over to whisper in your ears.

“You’re being such a bad girl tonight. I won’t give you another warning baby. Move again and I won’t fuck you.” You shiver when you hear his hoarse voice on your ears, grasping the pillows as hard as you can when he pushes his fingers as deep as possible and curls his knuckles.

“N-no please...I’m s-sorry- ahh gahd I’ll stop. I’ll stop.” Marcus is pleased with the effect he’s clearly having on you and almost gives in. But he wants you to cum before he takes you. From the looks of it, you aren’t looking for anything gentle, and with how hard he is, has been for the entire day, he doesn’t have the self-control to be anything but rough.

“Good girl...sweet fucking girl.” You force yourself to remain immobile as you feel him reaching deeper and applying more pressure on your spongy walls. The hand on your neck moves to your back and massages your heated skin. It takes you a while to realize that he’s reenacting the paintings in your living room and the thought shakes you to your core. Before you can even warn him, you feel a familiar pressure growing in the depths of your stomach and your heart hammers in your chest as you lose yourself to the sudden swelling sensation. You gasp his name over and over again as you cum around his fingers, and Marcus fists his hand in your hair when he feels you shuddering beneath him.

He’s shocked at how quickly you unravel at his ministrations and he doesn’t look away as he brushes his thumb against your clit and watches your body fight to not move away from him.

“M-Marcus wait- I...too much.” You can barely form a coherent sentence, let alone a thought, and you bite into the sheets when you feel his scruff scratch your skin deliciously as he licks off your juices.

“Use your safeword sweetheart and I’ll stop. But you came without asking so now I have to punish you...fuck, you taste as good as you smell baby, shit, maybe even better.” Marcus slows down but continues to move his digits across your tightening walls and when you say nothing, he sits up and twists his hand, waiting for your breathing to slow down before he begins to fuck you with his fingers.

“Oh oh f-fuck I- Marcus M-Marcus oh god...yes please fuck ahh I- I’m…” You try to warn him but he doesn’t slow down once, continuing his assault on your abused cunt until he feels you tightening around him again.

“Beg!”

“Can I- oh god, can I cum? Please fuck, I- I can’t s-stah ahh fuck.” You reach around and dig your nails into the hand fisting in your hair. You try to warn him again of what’s about to happen but he doesn’t give you a chance, picking up the pace just as he curves his digits and rubs at your sensitive spot.

“Drench me baby.” It’s all you need to fall over the edge again and your vision whites out as you convulse around him. Marcus smiles proudly when you listen to his command but his expression changes to one of awe when he feels you gush around his hand and wet his arm and thighs. He doesn’t stop once, completely captivated by the sight of your juices flowing around him so easily. When you try to move up the bed, Marcus lets go of your neck and pushes down on your lower back to keep you still. The damp spot beneath you is growing and something primal takes over Marcus. He wants nothing more than to soak the entire bed.

But he snaps out of his haze when you cry out his name and beg him to slow down. He looks at you as he gradually comes to a halt but keeps his fingers in your pussy. Marcus massages your muscles as he eases his wet fingers out of you and carefully maneuvers you until you’re laying on your back. You hiss at the sudden feeling of emptiness and almost jump away when you feel his tongue passing across the skin of your thighs. When you finally have enough mind to look at him, you’re taken aback by the sheer bliss written on his face as he closes his eyes and cleans you up. Your eyes widen in horror and embarrassment when you look at his glistening skin and you call for him shyly to grab his attention.

“I-I’m so sorry...I- I’ve never-”

“Don’t you dare apologize. That was the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen and the fact that I’m the first to make you squirt...best feedback I’ve ever gotten.” Marcus cuts you off as he licks at his forearm and fingers before he sits up behind you. You find his gaze much more intense than before and you hide behind your arm to avoid it.

“Marcus, stop.” He laughs at your sudden shyness and leans over to pull your arms away from your face.

“Please baby, don’t hide from me. Please.” You feel exposed underneath him and it’s a stupid thought considering what the two of you have been doing so far. But something about the way he’s staring at you with those deep, brown, soulful eyes makes you want to hide under the sheets. But instead, you take his hand and pull him close until he’s flush against you.

“K-kiss me.” You watch as his expression intensifies just as he leans forward and molds his lips with yours. You expected him to be rough but the way he parts his lips and allows you access to his mouth leaves you breathless. His scruff and mustache heighten the sensation and you instantly shove your tongue in his mouth when he melts against you. You hum when you finally taste yourself on his tongue and Marcus growls as the kiss grows more desperate. Just as you run out of breath, Marcus pulls away and holds back from smiling when you chase after him.

“Sweetheart, c-can I have you?” You’re amazed by how he’s still asking you if you want to do this even after the events of the past hour or so.

“Yes, please.” You respond as you push him off to resume your previous position again. Marcus feels his cock harden at the sight of you on your knees for him. But the moment shatters into a million pieces when he looks down and realizes that he doesn’t have any condoms.

“Fuck.” He hisses and begins to move away when he feels your hands reach for his thighs to stop him.

“What? What is it?”

“I- I didn’t think this would...I don’t have any condoms baby.” You stare at him for a few seconds before you break the silence and hope he doesn’t think any less of you. “I was tested after the last time and I’m clear. A-are you?” Marcus pins you with his eyes as he nods along. “I’m clean too...and, it’s been a while.” He hates to admit that last bit but he wants you to know that this, whatever it is, is serious.

“Same.” Your answer surprises him and he’s about to ask how that’s possible but forgets the question when you shift closer to him and dig your nails into his thighs to grab his attention.

“Fuck me.” The vulgar request sounds so pure rolling off of your tongue and Marcus pushes your knees wide open and settles between them. You continue to stare at him with hunger in your eyes as he strokes his cock a few times before he slides it across your wet slit. You’re already so sensitive from earlier but you can’t care less because you’ve only wanted to feel him inside you for the better half of the day. Marcus bites his lower lip and grasps your hips with one hand as he positions himself against your entrance and slowly pushes past your wet folds. He feels your walls already clenching around him and he hesitates for a moment as he moves his hands across your back to try and get you to loosen up.

“F-fuck...relax sweetheart. Relax for me please. I- I don’t- oh god, h-how are you this tight?” Your walls flutter around him when his hoarse, almost pained voice sounds through the room. “You’re doing so good baby, taking my cock in that pretty little cunt. Fuck, that’s it. Let me in sweetheart...could make you feel so good. Shit, that’s it.” Marcus cooes above you as he feels you slowly sucking him in. You sigh heavily when he finally sheathes himself completely inside you and it’s not until a few moments later that you realize he hasn’t moved a muscle.

“Marcus, m-move. Fuck, just- move.” Your impatient groans make him twitch inside you and the two of you hiss when his hips jut forward at your gasped requests. His hands hold onto you a little harshly, squeezing the skin of your hips and making you giddy at the thought of seeing those bruises the following day.

“Just wait...please baby I- I don’t want to hurt you. You feel so fucking good around me and- and I...oh fuck, f-fuck...squeezing the shit out of me. Please I-”

“Fuck. Me.” You turn your head around enough to look at him and find the sight of his sweaty forehead and furrowed eyebrows intoxicating. He can sense your eyes on him and reluctantly looks down at you when you pronounce those two words, watching as you pierce him with a harsh gaze as you roll your hips against him.

“I- are you…”

“Fucking please...take what you want.” The desperate tone of your voice breaks him and he pulls away until the tip of his cock is nudged in between your folds before he snaps his hips forward aggressively.

You shut your eyes and cry into your pillows as Marcus lets go and pounds into you. He’s no longer trying to hold back and you feel proud of the effect you have on him. Thinking back to the past hour, you realize that Marcus was going out of his way to control himself and not hurt you. But with every brush of his cock against your inner walls, with every groaned swear word and whispered affirmation, you can’t help but beg for him to fuck you harder. To take you like a crazed man. Because now that you’ve had a taste of what he’s capable of, you don’t want him to ease up on you.

“Shit baby, you’re perfect. Fucking perfect. Your cunt is begging for my cock sweetheart. Can you feel how deep I am? How deep this tight pussy is sucking me in?” Marcus nudges your knees a little farther apart as he plunges into you over and over again. You’re a moaning mess beneath him and as you try to reach back to hold onto his hands, Marcus lets go of your hips and grabs your wrists, using them as leverage to fuck you deeper.

You scream his name as his thrusts become relentless, the resonating sound of skin against skin reminding you of how sore you were going to feel for the rest of the week. You can’t really pay attention to what he’s saying anymore, choosing to focus on the way his dick fills you up completely and hits your special spot with precision. The thought of knowing that you’re at this man’s mercy and that he’s using you like he owns you makes you shudder and Marcus doesn’t realize you’re coming around him until he feels a pressure push out of you. He looks down and watches your cunt gushes on his cock and thighs again, the sight somehow even prettier the second time than the first.

He waits until you’re no longer convulsing in his arms before he thrusts his cock back into your pussy. Marcus leans down and wraps his arms around your front to bring you flush against his chest. Marcus brushes your hair aside and nuzzles into your neck as he begins to roll his hips against your ass, trying to drive his cock into you even further without hurting you. You reach around and pull on his hair when he bites on the juncture of your neck.

“You’re amazing, sweetheart.” The confession feels more intimate than anything he’s said to you thus far and you throw your head back and smile when his hands roam your front and settle on your navel.

“Marcus...please.”

“What do you need, baby? I’ll give you anything. Tell me...oh god, I- I’m so close.” Marcus kisses across your shoulder as one hand cups your breasts while the other descends to your clit. He feels you convulse around him but he doesn’t move his hand away, wanting to feel you cum one last time around his cock.

“I- I need you to cum for me...cum inside me. Fill me up baby...wanna feel you so deep inside me. Make a mess of my cunt. Please.”

“C-can you give me another?” He’s breathless, his pace faltering when he feels your walls squeeze around him tightly with every pass of his cock against your heated core.

‘I- I don’t think I can...too much baby.”

“Please, for me. Cum for me o-one last time...oh god, I’m close sweetheart. B-but I wanna cum with you. Please oh fuck- oh god, I- I’m fucking coming.” He growls into the crook of your neck as he rubs at your clit harshly, crying your name like a prayer as he feels you milk him dry. His thrusts are desperate and you pull on his hair harder than you intend when you feel his cum fill you up. Marcus can barely breathe as he shoots his seed deep in your pussy and feels you pulse around him. He continues to buck against you, the caveman mindset telling him to breed you and fill you up until you can’t take it anymore.

He stays motionless for a few minutes before he finally registers that you probably need to rest. As carefully as possible, Marcus pulls out and cradles your body against him as he lays you on your back. He looks down at you and smiles when he sees the mess he’s made between your thighs. He tries to get off the bed to bring you a cup of water and grab a wet towel when you reach out and pull him by his wrist.

“I need to clean you up sweetheart.” He tries to reason with you but you shake your head and pull harder on his hand so he could sit next to you.

“No just- come here. I need you. Please.” Marcus doesn’t have to be told twice. He lays down next to you and kisses your forehead when you cuddle into his arms. He draws circles on your shoulder and back when he feels your fingers play with his chest hair.

“Are you alright baby?” Marcus asks and pulls his head back when you hum a soft ‘yes.’ He searches your expression for any sign of discomfort, and when he finds none, he rests his head back again and lets you explore his skin.

“Hmm...did you know that hair was used in some ancient spells to ensure that the desired outcome occurred?” You break the silence after a while and Marcus furrows his eyebrows at you when you look up from his chest and meet his face.

“Uhh should I be worried Y/N?” He asks almost immediately and laughs when you panic and try to retract what you just said.

“Oh god sorry that- I didn’t mean...Jesus, I still need to work on my bedside manner.”

“I was kidding sweetheart. I actually enjoy listening to people talking about their interests, it’s a little calming. And no, I didn’t know that. What kind of spells are we talking about here?” You’re surprised by his response but say nothing and continue to follow the soft trail of hairs down his chest.

“Well, there are lots of curses that didn’t need hair but it was better if they were added...for efficacy and such. But the most common spells that required little curls like these were love spells, which technically are also curses but it sounds better when you say that it’s just a spell.”

“Are you trying to tell me something doctor?” Marcus can’t help but tease you again and he snorts when you sit up on your elbow and try to justify what you just said. He pulls you back into his arms and brushes your hair aside to take a better look at you.

“Oh no no, I just- I tend to think about this stuff at random times. Sorry. I swear I’m too much of a wimp to actually try anything. You never know if the desired outcome has any side effects...”

“No need to apologize baby. Besides, I don’t think you’ll ever need love magic with me.” The admission is out before he can stop himself and he cringes at himself, hoping that you don’t misunderstand him.

“Oh yeah, and why is that Agent Pike?” The hint of amusement in your tone lets him know that you didn’t mind teasing him back and he blinks a few times at the ceiling before he turns to gaze into your eyes.

“Well, you’re doing fine on your own being this amazing human being. You’re mesmerizing when you’re lecturing, you’re confident in your skills and knowledge, your intelligence is- I’m sure I’ve only scratched the surface with the case today. And you’re the prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen...we could work a bit on your art choices but-”

“Hey!” You slap his shoulder and try to slither away from him but he’s too quick and wraps his arms around you before you can get off the bed.

“I’m kidding, I'm kidding...your art choices are the cherry on top.” Marcus nudges your nose with his and leans down to kiss you. He smiles when you moan beneath him. But the kiss is cut short when you push him away suddenly and narrow your eyes at him.

“You never told me how you knew which ones I commissioned.”

“Ugh no please, you’re going to think I’m a pervert.” Marcus falls back on the bed and tries to hide behind his arms.

“Oh yeah?” You slowly trail your hand down his stomach and wrap it around his cock. It’s all Marcus needs to lower his arm and look down to where you’re touching him. He shuts his eyes and lets his head fall back when you lean forward and nip at his jaw.

“B-baby fuck...oh god, please. I- I need a few more minutes and-”

“Tell me, please.” You cut him off with a bite to the shoulder, giggling when he thrusts up into your loose hold to get more friction.

“I- I was picturing the two of us...fuck, re-reenacting those scenes and those two jumped out more...more than the third.” He can barely speak through the haze you’ve put him in, and moans your name when you reach down and fondle his balls just as you whisper in his ears.

“How scandalous of you Agent Pike!”

“Sweetheart, please.” Marcus whines for you, the arm around your back pulling you flush to him and giving him perfect access to your breasts. He wraps his lips around one nipple and softly sucks on it as you continue to stroke his cock.

“Hmm, I like the sound of you begging...baby. Tell me, do you by any chance have your handcuffs on you?” The question catches him off guard, and he pulls away to look at you, finding a different kind of fire dancing behind your eyes.

“Fuck…I- uhh, they’re in the car. W-wait where are you going?” Marcus regrets his answer as soon as you let go of him and jump off of the bed. He watches as you run to the bathroom without answering him, only to return a few seconds later with bright red handcuffs clanking between your fingers.

“To get my own set Agent. Like you said, you and I need to get acquainted.” You unlock them as you walk back to the bed and straddle his thighs. Marcus looks at you with adoration and softly nods at you when you silently ask him if you could cuff him to the headboard of your bed.

“I’m yours sweetheart, take what you want.”

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[brawltogethernow]

@mirrorfalls​ submitted: Came across this while searching for James Bond’s scrambled-eggs recipe (long story). Your thoughts?

~~

But did you find James Bond’s scrambled eggs recipe?

In this article, Scocca laments his inability to find accessible, lighthearted superhero comics suitable to read with his young son, while also demonstrating a mysterious aversion to looking at DC and Marvel’s lines of comics for children, which is where the accessible, lighthearted superhero comics suitable for reading with young children are. He wants his elementary schooler to be able to safely have the run of all superhero media so he doesn’t have to touch the yucky baby books.

This is not an industry-wide crisis. This is just one dude who got paid to write an article where he accidentally exposed one of his personal hangups.

The child headed toward the trade paperbacks of Marvel and D.C. superhero titles on the side wall […] a few steps in front of me. […] Is he with you? a clerk asked me. I said he was. You know, the clerk said, we have a kids’ section. The clerk gestured backward, at a few shelves near the entrance. I said, Thanks, we know and tried throwing in a little shrug, as the kid kept going.

You can’t just turn a seven-year-old child loose in a comic-book store to look at the superhero comic books. […] My seven-year-old really wanted to see that last Avengers movie […] that is, he wished it were a movie he could see, but he understood that it was, instead, a movie designed to scare and sadden him—a movie actively hostile to people like him.

They have a children’s section. Because comics are a medium suitable for stories for everybody, and they are sold in comic book shops, which have sections, like bookstores. You can use this organization to find books that you know in advance are suitable for children. What goes in that category is determined by industry professionals. This area will be bigger the bigger the shop is. These comics are not lower quality that titles from the main lines. They are actually slightly better-written on average.

Your local comic book shop has considerately wrapped Empowered in a plastic bag, so your child will not be drawn in by a colorful superhero and accidentally read a graphic scene. If you think your kid might find a memoir about internment camps upsetting, it is your job to notice them picking up They Called Us Enemy and read the blurb on the back before you let them have it. This comic adults are meant to read is in a comic book shop because that is where comics are sold. Not every public place is supposed to be Disneyland.

Movies have ratings systems. If you do not want your child to watch a PG-13 movie, you will find that most superhero cartoons are for children. They are about the same characters. Some are quite good! I really enjoyed Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. Your child may like Avengers Assemble. At least I think that’s right. I’m always mixing those titles around.

This is a deeply weird bias for Scocca to casually demonstrate, because he identifies in the article that real childishness is striving for empty maturity.

He compares an old comic,

[…]a 1966 Spider-Man comic in which Spider-Man meets, fights, and defeats the Rhino; participates in a running argument between John Jameson and J. Jonah Jameson about his heroism; buys a motorcycle; breaks up with his first girlfriend, Betty Brant; flirts with Gwen Stacy; and reluctantly agrees to let Aunt May take him to meet her friend Mrs. Watson’s niece, Mary Jane.

and a new comic,

[…]a 21st century comic book in which Thor, brooding in a Katrina-destroyed New Orleans, beats up Iron Man. He also yells at Iron Man a lot about some incomprehensibly convoluted set of grievances, including involuntary cloning, that he believes Iron Man perpetrated against him while he was dead(?), and then summons some other Norse god from the beyond somehow for reasons having something to do with real estate. I think. Where the 1966 comic is zippy and fun and complete, the whole contemporary one is muddled and lugubrious and seems to constitute a tiny piece of a seemingly endless plot arc—simultaneously apocalyptic and inert.

and concludes that the edgier comic is actually less mature. This is true. (This is not news about mediocre comics.)

It also has nothing to do with either comic being child-friendly, the article’s nominal thesis, except in the sense that ASM #41 (yes, I eyeballed that from that summary, yes I am just showing off now) is better written, making it more everyone-friendly. It also has practically more space dedicated to word balloons than art and is about a college student juggling girl problems and a part-time job with a tyrannical boss. But the immature one, as Scocca points out, is dour.

These are both teenagery issues, separated only by quality. It’s true that lots of new comics published by the big 2 are bad in the specific way Scocca describes here, taking themselves too seriously and hauled down by associated stories instead of buoyed by them. Some are not! Some titles from these companies’ main continuities are zippy, contained, and child friendly. Give your child The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl! Or if you like vintage comics so much better, why don’t you…buy some?

The books on the kid’s rack are good and fun and totally suitable for parents to read with their children without wanting to scoop their eyeballs out. Scocca cites the Batman ‘66 comics as the brightly colored, tightly written all ages solution to his problem about sharing superhero stories with his son. My local comic shop stores this title in the kid’s section. I am glad that Scocca’s does not, as he seems to have a peculiar aversion to looking for comics to read with his son there.

Scocca cites Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse as a superhero movie he could watch with his kids. (I was surprised when this line made it sound like he has several. I don’t want to assume the other one isn’t in this article because they’re a girl, but I very much am assuming that.) Great! Go to the kid’s section and look for Marvel Adventures: Spider-Man. It’s a fun, zippy title directly inspired by ITSV where Miles, Gwen, and Peter superhero together. It’s much more tightly written than most of the various Spider-Verse comics, which are ambitiously messy ubercrossovers. You may not want to give those to children because they include murder and so on, but also you just have the choice between the two as an adult reader deciding how much continuity you want to deal with. Adventures is one of the only titles I would buy on sight before corona. The kid comic rack is a reliable place to take a break from How Comics Get Sometimes regardless of how old you are.

This article makes me feel quarrelsome. Maybe it’s that it doesn’t seem like exploration of a single idea so much as a loosely grouped bundle of things to kvetch about. Maybe it’s that the experience of getting into superheroes that Scocca describes experiencing, projects his seven-year-old son will experience, and from which he extrapolates a metaphorical microcosm of the history of the genre is completely alien to me.

Comic books [and] comic-book movies—are […] trapped in their imagined audience’s own awful passage from childhood to adolescence. A seven-year-old has a clean […] appreciation of superheroes. They like hero comics because the comics have heroes: bold, strong, vividly colored good guys to fight off the bad guys and make the world safe.

But seven-year-olds stop being seven. […] They become 13-year-olds, defensively trying to learn how to develop tastes about tastes.

The 13-year-old wants many things from comics, but the overarching one is that they want to prove that they’re not some seven-year-old baby anymore. They want gloomy heroes, miserable heroes, heroes who would make a seven-year-old feel bad. (Also boobs. They want boobs.)

Not because of the boobs line, although that does illicit an eyeroll that this gloomy thinkpiece is fretting over preserving the superhero experience of little boys who resemble the little boy the writer was while casually dismissing everyone else. I was one of those unlikable little seven-year-olds with a college reading level and the impression that maintaining it was the crux of my worth. I only read Books - distinguished media you could club someone with. I have a formative memory of pausing, enraptured, in front of a poster for Spider-Man 3, preparing to say that it looked pretty cool, and being beaten to the punch by my mother making a disparaging comment about how the movie was trash. It wasn’t out yet, but it was a superhero movie. That meant it was for loud, brainless children.

That was the total of my childhood experience with superheroes, excluding being the unwilling audience to incessant renditions of “Jingle Bells, Batman Smells” that left me wondering why in god’s name Batman’s sidekick was named Robin. I certainly never visited a comic book shop. I got into TvTropes, which got me into webcomics, which got me following David Willis, who got me into Ask Chris at ComicsAlliance, which led to me rewarding myself for studying like a demon for the AP tests with three volumes of Waid’s Daredevil, pitched as a return to the character being colorful and swashbuckling. I was seven…teen.

This is of the same thread as Scocca’s point that immaturity is running from childish things. It leaves me baffled that he doesn’t follow that maturity is embracing them.

I will disclose here that while I think it was dumb I had to overcome my upbringing’s deeply embedded shame associated with enjoying arbitrarily defined lowbrow media and children being childish, I think it’s fine that I was allowed largely unchecked access to technically age-inappropriate content. In my limited experience, content small children are too young for is also content they’re too young to understand, so it kind of just bounces off of them, and what actually ends up terrorizing them is unpredictable collages of impressions that strike out at them from content deemed perfectly child-friendly. I would not forbid a seven-year-old I was in charge of from seeing an MCU movie unless I had a reason to believe that specific child would not take it well. These are emotionally low-stakes bubblegum films. It will probably be easier to socialize with other kids if they have seen them.

But then, when I picture being in charge of a hypothetical child, I usually imagine this being the case because they are related to me, and the pupal stage in my family strongly resembles Wednesday Addams. ALL children love death and violence, though, right?? This isn’t a joke point. I know it looks like a joke point.

The MCU thing seems especially weird in light of the article’s particular focus on Spider-Man, which is the kiddie line of the MCU, even if they refused to waver from their usual formula enough to get a lower rating. Though I am more inclined to describe it as “preying on the young” than “child-friendly”.

(MCU movies are increasingly dubious propaganda, but I would not judge them in front of a child who wanted to watch them for that reason, just in case this led to them partaking of them without me the second they were old enough to and then they grew up to run a blog about them while our relationship suffered because they didn’t feel like it was safe to talk to me about their interests…Mom.)

I tried to overcome the philosophy of letting anyone read anything while compiling this handful of mostly-newish superhero recs for the road that anyone can read. (Handily, I have been in spitting distance of being hired as a comic shop clerk enough to have thought about it before):

For actual children:

Marvel Adventures Spider-Man (the new one is reminiscent of ITSV, the old one is more like 616) any DC/Archie crossover, Archie’s Superteens The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl (for bookish children who think they’re too good for comics and adults afraid of the kid’s section) Teen Titans Go (even if you hate the show) Superman Smashes the Klan

For teens:

Ms. Marvel Young Avengers (volume 2) Unbelievable Gwenpool Batman: Gotham Adventures Teen Titans Go (the tie-in comic based off the old show was also called this)

Here are a bunch of relevant C. S. Lewis quotes.

[dickwheelie]

Uhm, I don't know if you're still taking requests, of course you can just, not do it, but I was thinking, maybe jon touching star!Martins face littered with stars for the first time? 👉👈

this is based on @flamingfinch's and @tired-dummy's star!Martin au which you can find more of on their blogs :) I loooove writing about this dude so this was a great request to get, thank you Teo and I hope you enjoy!

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Most of the time, Martin looks at least passably human. Perhaps he takes up a little more space in a room than he should, perhaps the air around him glows with a barely perceptible aura, and perhaps his skin is just a little too hot to the touch. Most people overlook these things, choosing not to question them or simply unable to notice them at all.

Jon is different. From the moment they met, Jon knew Martin was something otherworldly, though he wasn't yet sure what. When Martin told him he was an ancient being who crafted stars and arranged galaxies, Jon wasn't even necessarily surprised. It explained Martin's strange amber glow, his perfectly white eyes, and how impossibly large he seemed, even when he was at his six-foot human height.

Neither of them know, even after months of being together, why Jon can perceive Martin so clearly, as he does. Jon is grateful for it, because it was what brought the two of them together. He doesn't like to think about a world in which Jon had just let Martin pass him on the street, completely unaware of his otherworldly beauty, and the magnificent heart that lay underneath.

Jon thought he had seen all that there was to see of Martin's true form, until today.

They're sitting out on the back porch of Jon's tiny cottage, stargazing, as they always do on clear nights. Jon loves listening to Martin talk about the stars; he points each of them out and tells Jon their true name, and a story about them. Martin remembers them all, even the smallest, most distant ones. Some of the furthest stars have already died, their light reaching earth millions of years late, and when Martin speaks about them it is as though he is looking at a photograph of an old friend. He has moved Jon to tears more than once.

That night is more joyful. Martin is telling Jon about two stars in Orion's belt, young troublemakers who were best friends and completely incorrigible. "I kept trying to separate them," he says, "but they'd have none of it. They loved each other too much."

"What did you do?" Jon asks.

Martin shrugs. "In the end, I let them be. They orbit each other now. They're a little older, a little wiser. They've stopped causing so much trouble, but they love each other just as much."

Together they stare up at the stars in silence. Out here, in the countryside, there's not an inch of sky that isn't full of them.

"Do you miss them?" Jon says after a few moments. "The ones that are still up there, I mean. Do you wish you could be up there with them again, all the time?"

Martin looks at him, sensing the unspoken question in Jon's words. "I like being down here with you, Jon. You're as precious to me as any star. I'd never trade this life for that one." He smiles at him. "And I know you'd never ask me to."

That much, at least, was true. Whenever Martin had to leave to complete his starbound duties, Jon missed him, yes, but never resented it. He'd often use his telescope at night to try to see if he could spot Martin making new stars, but Martin had the whole universe to travel through, and he was so rarely working anywhere near the Milky Way.

He always came back, though. Jon is no longer as surprised by this as he was in the beginning, but sometimes his heart still leaps in his chest when he sees Martin's amber glow pouring through the gap under his front door.

"That's very sweet, Martin," Jon says coyly. "But you didn't answer my question. Do you ever miss them?"

Martin stares up at the endless expanse of stars. Jon can see they're reflected in his eyes, their usual white glow replaced with an inky black pool of tiny lights.

"All the time," he says.

As Martin stares up at the night sky, something in his face changes. Not his expression; his face itself. Jon blinks, thinking it might be an optical illusion, but no--there are tiny, glowing silver lights appearing across Martin's face, dotting it like freckles.

Jon sits up, leaning across the bench they share to get a closer look, and when Martin turns his head to look at him, the pattern of the lights on his face changes, mirroring the pattern of the stars behind Jon, a perfect projection of the sky. Jon gasps, and Martin gives him a puzzled look. "What is it?"

"Martin," Jon says breathlessly, reaching out towards his face but not touching it, "your face is covered with stars."

It's one of the most beautiful things Jon's ever seen. Martin's face, already lovely, is incandescent as it glows with pinpricks of starlight, peppering his cheeks and nose and forehead and lips, and Jon has been privileged to see Martin as he truly is, but he's never seen anything like this. Never before has Martin appeared so entirely other, so completely, obviously inhuman. Jon can't look away. He never wants to, ever again. He wants to reach out and touch, to run his fingers through the stars mapped out on Martin's cheeks, to kiss them from his lips, but he doesn't move forward.

"Oh," Martin says, realizing what Jon is seeing, "I'm sorry, I didn't know I was doing that. I can make them go away, give me a moment--"

"No," Jon says, his hand darting out to hold Martin's, as though that might stop him, "no, Martin, they're--you look--"

Jon stutters, not knowing how to describe to Martin how little he wants him to hide his stars away again. Martin quirks an eyebrow at him, perhaps a little confused, but thankfully the stars remain.

"Please don't get rid of them. Just . . . let me just . . ." Jon leans in close to Martin's face, examining the stars as they wink and move, ever so slightly, across it, as though alive. Which, Jon supposes, in a way they sort of are. Looking closely, he thinks he can see galaxies slowly turning at the corners of Martin's eyes, in the divot of his lips. Tentatively, as though they were fish in a pond that might dart away, Jon reaches out and places his fingertips on Martin's cheek. The stars don't move under his touch, but Martin shivers slightly, causing the projection to wobble. Jon quickly moves his hand away and glances up into Martin's eyes. "Is this alright? I'm sorry, I should have asked before."

"I . . . yes. Yes, it's alright," Martin says, quietly, staring down at him with wide, starry eyes.

Jon places his fingers once again on Martin's cheek, then traces a line down to his chin. Martin's face is warm, but the stars are just slightly hotter, sparking under Jon's fingertips. He places his other hand gently on Martin's other cheek, swipes a thumb across his nose, as though to scatter stars across it, though of course they don't move. Jon traces the patterns of stars that have gathered on the hills of Martin's lips, and then slowly, giving Martin the chance to pull away, he leans in to kiss them.

Martin does not pull away, and in the moment before he deepens the kiss Jon can feel every pinprick of every star that adorns Martin's lips, as though he is kissing each one in turn. Jon closes his eyes against the divine beauty of it all, the wonder that lies across his lover's face that Jon is able to touch, however briefly or distantly. Some of the stars under his hands and lips are gone, will never exist again except in memory, and some have only just been born a millennia ago, and all are important, and have been loved.

Then, as though strings have been cut, Martin surges forward and captures Jon in a searing embrace, kissing him so deeply that for a moment Jon half-believes he might walk away from this with stars of his own dancing over his lips. Jon does not let go of Martin's face, his palms against his jaw and thumbs stroking across his cheeks and under his closed eyes, feeling the stars dance across his skin as the two of them push and pull against one another. Behind Jon's eyelids there is the silver glow of a million stars less than a breath away.

When they part, breathless and clinging, Jon still does not open his eyes. He just presses his cheek to Martin's, feels the stars moving beneath it in time with his breaths. He turns and presses a kiss to it, then another, and another. Martin holds him so closely, a hand gently running through his hair.

"I love you," Martin says, softly. "As much as any star."

Jon laughs a watery laugh. "I know." When he finally opens his eyes again, he can see that Martin's face has dimmed back to its usual form, though his eyes are still dark and full of stars. Jon knows he could look up and see the same image in the night sky above, but he gazes into Martin's eyes instead. "I love you, too, Martin." He pauses, then smiles into those boundless, reflected depths. "As much as any star."

[babytaes]

the grim reaper(my home)

summary:  Everyone depicts the Grim Reaper as a bad character, but he didn't kill you. It's just a trip to the afterlife, and he's actually being helpful by walking you there. Consider what it would be like if you had to travel alone. As she battles through life, Jay meets an unexpected figure, yet she doesn't seem to be terrified of him when he comes knocking on her door, why?

paring: jay x female reader

genre: angst, slight fluff

word count: 6k

warnings: profanity, ummmm rock chic jay.

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖙𝖘: click me before reading!

➳ part of the drunk & dazed series

☆ ҉ ◢▅◣

I wish that everyone knew how their lives ended. It's essentially a game of guessing what will happen to you. Don't even get me started on the subject of Heaven and Hell. You've heard it all, the misery and the heinous methods in which people go out.

But why did death come knocking on the door at such an early age? You'll never know why they chose this age.

You didn't have your entire life laid out for you, nah, what a waste. Seeing it, however, was strange.

Well, there's him, or whatever entity they're referring to. The Grim Reaper.

You didn't notice him until things began to go wrong for you. A black object flashed in and out all of a sudden.

It was more predictable than unexpected.

Usually you would see him after work but I guess he had other plans. Despite your exhaustion, you flopped down on the couch and pulled out your phone to conduct an online search.

You giggled as you aimlessly scrolled through your phone and eventually peeked up to see a dark figure seated across from you.

As you laid your phone down and peered at the figure, you said, "So he finally wants to show his face."

“Don't tell me you can see me right now?” he cocks his head and looks about before returning to you.

“Well, I've only seen glimpses of you for the previous few weeks, but now I'm seeing you in all your glory.”

“Shit” As he hurriedly shot back into the dark shadows behind him, he widened his eyes.

“Wait a minute, don't leave.”

He was still there, hidden from view. He wasn't ready to leave yet. As you moved over to the door, you rolled your eyes at your phone and grabbed your apron. As you put your shoes back on, you exclaim and awkwardly wave your hand in the air before closing the door.

“You better be here when I get back, and keep in mind that we have business to discuss."

He rolled his eyes at your strange conduct as he smiled gently before vanishing back into the dark abyss, now entirely gone from your home.

---

“So Jay, what's on the agenda in Reaper business?” He noticed his old acquaintance gleaming at him as he peered up from his chair.

“Well, Jake, the previous several weeks have been a complete nightmare. They paired me up with this tough guy who was fighting for his life. As he continued, he rolled his eyes.

“It's been quite tranquil since they reassigned me to another case, but something strange happened today. I inadvertently made myself obvious to her, but she was unconcerned.

“Weird.” Jake shook his head and cocked his head to the side as he called out to him.

“So, two pieces of information I just got: it's a girl, and she appears to be somewhat odd. When you get back, I'd like to hear more about this."

As you put on a strange expression, he smiled at the boy as he spoke about jobs he had recently gone on.

“Yeah, there's something odd about it,” 

“I also—wait a minute, Jay, I recognize that look.” Jake pauses in his speech for a moment as he approaches you and analyzes your body.

“Please, dude, take a step back.”

He hears on the intercom times for a meeting today for all Reapers to attend, and he laughs at you. Jake makes a peace sign as he hits the door's slab and vanishes from view.

Sitting back in your chair, you raise your feet and begin to formulate a strategy.

“What am I doing here? I'm a doer. Let me just return to her and have that conversation she requested.”

He steps into form and vanishes back to the house he used to be in, softly cheering to himself.

Surprisingly, he can hear your voice but not yet see you, so he emerges from the shadows and takes a stroll through your home, taking in your life.

He saw photos of dogs and people he assumed were family and friends, as well as one thing that attracted his attention.

As he approaches it, he enters a familiar room and sighs as he makes his way to the gleaming object. It was a bracelet with scribing on it of some type.

When he reaches out to pick it up, he feels a searing feeling and drops it swiftly, muttering a torrent of curse words.

“What the hell was that?” When he looks closely, he notices symbols that resemble a cross.

“Fuckin Christ,” 

“Do all Reapers barge into your house and search through their belongings on the spur of the moment, or is mine defective?”

Jay, who has jumped up in panic, apologizes by turning around and raising his hands. When he glances up, he notices you resting on the door frame, arms folded, staring at him.

“Well, let's just put this inconvenience behind us and have that conversation you wanted to have, hmm?”

“All right, let's go into the living room, and by the way, your style is really fashionable. I had no idea you people dressed up so well to steal souls. Are there any employment openings?”

As he comes to a halt in his tracks, you turn your head to face him and stare at his unmoving form.

“Hellooo, please don't tell me they gave me a defective one. Jeez”

For a brief moment, everything came to a halt as Jay regained his bearings. "That was strange. Why am I blanking out because she's so strange?”

With a shake of his head, he smiles at you and walks into the living room, where he sits across from you, still perplexed as to who and what you are.

It wasn’t human-like.

“Thank you, no one seemed to realize that the original reaper gear wasn't cutting it for me. Also, I'm presuming you're a young adult, so you know what I'm talking about.”

You pull closer to him, laughing at his words, and lay your elbows on your legs, intently listening to him.

“So Grandma was right, you guys do exist. Tell me more; you know I don't appear to have much time left, so give me your answers.”

He let out a chuckle as he hastily covered his mouth, daring not to be affected by the earth.

He'd been doing this work for quite some time and appeared to be quite confident in himself and his abilities.

But there was something about you that made him feel comfortable and at ease, and he didn't feel like he had to hide, very apparent when a patient screamed at him or when they insisted death hadn't arrived yet.

It was strange, but it was great not to have to put on a show. Outside of the Reaper, he almost forgot who he was for a moment.

Maybe this one could get to know you, the cool yet elegant Jay. Not the dark version of himself. Even if his ultimate goal is to accompany you to the hereafter.

Maybe, just maybe, in that slim possibility, he'll take advantage of this opportunity to learn more about this person and why they're so interested in you.

---

“Before we jump right into this game, I have a question for you: why aren't you terrified of me?” As he stared at your blank expression, he spat out.

“Well, as I already stated, my grandma was a firm believer in the unknown. Even though she is no longer with us, she has taught me a great deal about the supernatural and unknown.”

You got up and walked over to the kitchen, motioning for him to follow you before opening the refrigerator and taking some fresh fruit out.

Jay promptly stood up and walked over to the chair, where he sat, watching your every move as you leapt onto the counter and turned to face him, before placing a mango slice into your mouth.

“All right, my turn, what's your name and what's my illness?”

Jay coughed and sat up straight as he removed a piece of paper from his pocket and read it loudly before setting it down.

“Y/N Y/L/N, you've been diagnosed with Heart Disease, and things aren't looking well for you. I know you haven't been to the doctor in a while, which is also perplexing. And my name is Jay.”

You place the fruit down next to you and cross your legs before responding to his comment, shaking your head up and down.

“Well, that's true; it runs in the family, but I'm not concerned because time is never on our side, and we all have an expiry date, which I believe is approaching soon. Right?”

Jay knew you just had one week left, but he didn't want to break your cheerful mood, so he waited.

“Well, I can't tell you when you'll die just yet, but your time is running out. I'm sure it's terrifying, but-”

Before concealing your lips, you chuckle loudly. Jay snickered as he looked up at you.

“Man, you're such a strange person; how do you manage to be so confident and direct? I'm becoming a little afraid, and I'm the Grim Reaper.” You leap from the countertop and walk over to him.

You cocked your head to the side and placed your hands on his face, pushing your face towards him. As you smile, his face flushes, and as he pulls away from you, he coughs before moving his hand to encourage you to continue.

“You have nice eyes, you know. Okay, now I'll tell you my story. Instead of countless questions, I believe it would be simpler.”

He just nods his head and lets you continue talking about your life.

---

As we all crossed the bridge into the next city over, you glanced out the window at the water. You'd always enjoyed being near water. It brought up memories of trips you and your grandparents took together.

When you arrived at your location, you grabbed your suitcase and exited the vehicle, leaving your parents behind.

“Are you sure you don't want to join us?” As they drove out of the parking lot and onto their vacation, you shook your head and waved farewell to them.

Even though you were 17, you still enjoyed going to your grandparents' house because it provided a sense of security that you didn't have at home. So you'd take them in a heartbeat.

Looking up, you notice Pops standing at the door, arms outstretched, waiting for you.

“There is my favorite grandchild.”

“Gramps, I'm your only grandchild,” you said, laughing as you took him in your arms and grinned as you stepped into the house.

“Oh, that's right.” He takes your stuff and starts to take it to your allotted room while laughing together. “Your Grams is out back,” he shouts as he approaches the top.

‘Thanks” When you walk out to the backyard, you'll find her sitting in her iconic chair, surrounded by books, muttering to herself. She puts the book down and leans in to hug you as she stands up.

“Aww, I've missed you so much. There's just so much you can talk about with your grandfather before he falls asleep. Please have a seat; we have a lot to discuss."

There's a sensation you've been missing, a sense of belonging to a place you once called home. They were the only ones who could supply you with a sense of safety and security, and you couldn't get enough of it.

“We talked about witches and wizards the last time we were here. Now we're dealing with Reapers, or more precisely Grim.”

When she stated those two words, your eyes lit up; it was a favorite topic of yours that she brought up frequently, but now you had more time to delve deeper.

“Let's get started; we've got a lot of ground to cover. Allow us to see The Unknown by opening our eyes. “Are you wearing your bracelet?”

“I never take it off,” you say. You shook your right arm and returned your hand to hers, shaking your head.

As you were swept away in a dark mist together, you grinned and took her hands in yours. Even though they appear to be ordinary, decent folks, there is something you should know about my grandparents. They are one of many people who have gained entrance to the supernatural realm, a place where anything is possible.

You tried to inform your parents, but they were skeptical of fairy tales. They tried to prevent you from seeing them, claiming that "they will stunt my growth," which is ridiculous because I've learnt more from my grandparents than from my parents.

Regardless of how hard they tried to stop you, you always managed to find your way back to them. We were linked, and nothing could stop you until YOU chose to let it. That day, however, never came.

You found yourself in a boat, holding your grandmother's hand, as it carried you across a vast chasm and into town. You come upon another boat that appears to be some kind of creature with a scythe. As he traveled down the river opposite you, strands of golden hair protruded from beneath his hood.

“Wait, don't tell me that person on the river was you now that I think about it?”

“I think it was, man, that was a long time ago,” Jay laughed and shook his head. Also, I had no idea you had access to that world?”

“Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get back to the story.” As you spoke, he grinned.

“All right, honey, let's go; we can't linger for too long.” You both stepped off the boat and walked into town, taking in the sights. As you climbed the slope, merchants' stands and buildings crept up on you. It was weird to see individuals of all kinds here, going about their daily lives in the same way that those on the surface did.

You see vampires, werewolves, angels, and even ghouls all lingering together and with one another as you walk side by side with your grams. Despite the fact that they all had their own lives to live, they could join together to gather supplies and meals.

What a wonderful thing

You both entered a familiar building, and your grandma greeted the old man behind the counter.

“Oh, my favorite customers. What brings you down here and how is life above the surface? Another book you have in mind.”

Your Grams smiled as she let go of your hand and approached the man at the front of the bookstore, “you always know Melvin.”

As they conversed, you strolled through the big store on your way to the second floor. Before reaching the top, you yell out to Melvin.

“I'm hoping you'll let me take one.”

“Anything for my sweet Y/N, go ahead and look, there's a new one up there.” You hurried up the steps and across to the Book Wall, grinning ear to ear. From baby dragons to spell books, there was something for everyone. Anything you can imagine Melvin’s shop had it all.

When you took one off the shelf, you were greeted by a young boy who stood next to you. You couldn't tell if he was your age since down here, time moves at a different pace than it does on the surface. Still he looked quite young.

It was pleasant to see the creatures up close, even if you had never met them before. You stepped away from him, afraid of his reaction, and made your way to the chair sections. You sat down and picked up a book titled "The Origins of Reapers."

“How did you get here? I've never seen a girl human down here before.” You looked up from your book to see the boy you'd seen previously, frightened that he'd do something. You closed your eyes and shook your bracelet in front of his face.

As he waited for you to settle down, he laughed and sat next to you.

“I'm not going to harm you; all I wanted to do was ask a question. My name is Jake, what is yours?”

“My name is Y/N, and my grandparents have access to the world, so I tag along occasionally, may I inquire what you are?” you said slowly as you sat up straight.

He shifted in his seat and grinned, his face more dog-like. How could you be afraid of him?

“Well, don't be afraid of me since I'm a Grim Reaper in Training. I'm fairly innocuous. It's nice to see a human down here; normally, we only see humans when it's their time.”

You hear your grandmother calling from downstairs before he can continue.

“Coming”

You return his gaze and apologize as you rise, book in hand, and make your way to the stairwell.

“It was a pleasure to meet such a lovely human; please pay a visit to the Reaper Realm when you return. Simply request Jake.” He gave you a wave before yelling at Melvin.

“I'm leaving Melvin; my book is on your desk up here.”

As you return your attention to Jake, you hear Melvin's remark, but he vanishes into thin air as you descend the steps. Your grandmother expresses her gratitude to Melvin for the choice and exits through the front door.

“Are you all set to depart, sweetie?” With a shake of your head, you bid Melvin farewell as you close the door and return to the boat, where you sit down and take your gram's hand in yours.

"Let's go home," says your grandmother.

---

“So yeah, I've been traveling there with them ever since they introduced me to your world.” You came to a halt in the middle of your walk and coughed, wiping a tear from your cheek.

“My grandparents died a few years ago, and I haven't been back in a long time because I used to only go with them. It was doubly difficult because they both died on the same day, and she was telling me that she could see him on that day. I'm hoping she meant the Reaper, because they were the last thing to see them leave.”

You grabbed his arms on the spur of the moment and violently shook them.

“I know you must have records someplace, but could you please assist me in locating them as part of my dying wish? At the very least, let me see where they went; I need to know if they're okay.”

So this was the true you, the one in desperate need of a reconnection with the Gone. You received your response and devised a plan.

“Hey, don't worry... I'll see what I can do.  But there's no guarantee. I wasn't on the case at the time, so I'll have to do some digging, but I'll try.  “Can you tell me their names?”

Wiping tears from your eyes, you rose from your chair and dashed to your room, calling him over.

When you opened a box from under your bed, there were wonderful memories from you and your grandparents inside. You attempted to obtain more, but everything was returned to the Underworld, leaving you with only this.

Jay knelt down and picked up a photograph of you and them. They were regulars, and he had seen them around town. Hopefully, in the short time she had left, you could help her.

“Elizabeth and Albert Marvin were their names. I'm not sure if there's anything else I can do to assist you, but please do your best." As you hurriedly covered your mouth with your palm, a harsh cough came from your throat, and your chest began to throb as you placed your hand on your heart.

It was obvious that time was not on your side. You rise off the ground and walk over to Jay, looking up at him. You wrapped your arms around his frigid body, engulfing him in a hug.

Jay stood there awkwardly with his arms down as he gently moved you off and returned to the couch area.

“Like I said, there's no guarantee that I'll find them, and who knows, they could not even be alive. But I’ll try my best. It was a pleasure to speak with you, but I must depart because we are running out of time.”

He gave you a beeper before vanishing.

“Please page me on here if you need to reach me; I'll do my best to respond. You look after yourself.” 

You waved farewell as he left your house and returned to his, where he continued his exhaustive investigation.

He didn't want to let you down because he felt such a responsibility to you. He would complete whatever task he was given. He would do anything for you if he could see that smile on your face.

“Let's get down to business.”

---

 “Jay...Jay wake up” As you awoke slowly from your arms, you felt a push on your shoulder. As your eyes adjusted to the bright light, it took some time to figure out who was interrupting you.

“W-What exactly is it, Jake?” You and Jake have been coming in every day for the past five days, attempting to find a solution to your problem. Jake may have discovered something despite the difficulties.

“So, I just had an epiphany,  last time I saw Y/N she was at Melvin bookstore, so let's see if he knows anything about them.” You leapt from your chair and snatched a jacket as you ushered Jake out the door and toward Melvin.

For you and y/n, things were starting to look up.

Maybe you were going to do something good for one of your friends souls.

As you and Jake approached Melvin's business, you inhaled deeply and opened the door, eager to hear what he had to say to you.

Melvin's attention was drawn to the bell sound, and he looked up from his spectacles, saying, "Hey youngsters, what brings you here?"

“Well, we had a question for you regarding an old friend of yours, does Elizabeth Marvin ring a bell?” He pulled a photograph from his back pocket and presented it to him; his face darkened as he held the photograph in his hands and smiled broadly at it.

“Oh, my favorite customers. I don't have much information, but the last time they were in here, they were in a hurry and seemed concerned. “We have to make the crossing,” Elizabeth kept emphasizing.

As you and Jake turned to each other, you both had a frightened expression on your faces.

“Don't tell me they took the Crossing, shit,” says Jay You turned around and proceeded towards the door, thanking Melvin, while Jake grinned and waved farewell before heading out the door. He discovered you slumped against the wall, head down, groaning.

“Jay, please don't thin-”

“Keep your mouth shut Jake, because you know no one survives the Crossing without a guide. There are just too many wicked spirits out there, and you and I both know that getting to the finish is impossible. Jay growled as he stood up and kicked whatever was closest to him.

“Ugh, why did I do that?” 

Jake approached his friend and patted his back, unsure of how he would react. It was a small gesture. He knew it was impossible, but he didn't want his best friend to know. They still needed to be encouraged.

“I'm going back to headquarters to see what else we can find; meet me back there, okay?” As he watched Jake go from his sight, Jay nodded and thanked him for his assistance.

He didn't know what else to do, so he had to break the dreadful news to you. It turned out to be for the best. He was good at one thing: conveying bad information to others. What an ironic Reaper. With a shake of your head, you prepared to go to Y/N's flat.

Here goes nothing.

Jay was gone in a flash of dust and now stood in a familiar location, squinting as everything appeared to be different. Jay spotted clothes strewn on the floor, dishes scattered in the sink, and the bathroom's random lights flashing.

He was so preoccupied with the status of the house that he didn't see that your time was slowly eating away at you, that you were holed up under blankets in the bedroom with chest discomfort and dizziness that came and went.

Your once-young body was losing its ability to hold on to life. As you coughed loudly and grinned as you motioned for him to come over to you, you looked up and noticed him standing in the doorway.

You quietly sighed as you slowly climbed up, your hand resting on your chest.

‘So-so any news captain. “I need something to take my mind off the pain.”

As he prepared his message, Jay didn't make eye contact with you as he lifted your blanket over your body and patted it down. This felt different than relaying bad news as the “BIG AND BAD GRIM REAPER” As he was going to burst your bubble, something inside ached. What do people refer to it as? Sadness.

What exactly did you do to him?

“So, Y/N, please wait until I finish before you speak.” He took a big breath and continued, his lips curling in. “We've at a dead end; Jake and I spoke with Melvin, who indicated they were discussing the "Crossing," which in Grim Reaper lingo means "no go." That's a place where no one ever returns; it's only conceivable if you have a guide, which I'm not sure they did. They could be lost or worse, stolen by a spirit, for all I know. I-, I'm sorry, but I'm not sure.”

He heard your voice and looked down, avoiding eye contact. "It's okay Jay,"   He jerked up and glanced at your frail form, perplexed and terrified. In the light of your candle, he could see better, but death was creeping up on him. He just had a day  before he had to take you. He wasn't pleased with the situation or with you.

“It was a big ask, but I'm happy you and Jake did your hardest,” you said, a tear streaming down your cheek. That's all I requested, and despite the fact that it didn't work out, I liked the gesture, so thank you.”

“Thanks for doing business with you,” you said with a grin on your face as you extended your hand to him. As you looked him in the eyes, he took your weak hands in his and gently shook them.

“What, do I have something on my face? I don't want to appear unkempt.” You laughed and reached for your hands to be unlatched from his grip. Rather than releasing go, he drew you closer to him and kissed your gentle lips.

As you released each other, he wasn't thinking; in reality, he was panicked.

“Um- I don’t know what that is but I have to go. Sorry, I'll pick you up tomorrow-” “Please don't go,” you said as you took a big breath and clutched his hand. If I'm being honest, I'm afraid, and I could use some companionship before I take my final breath.”

“Sleep well y/n, we have a long walk tomorrow,” he said as he sat down on the bed and took your hand in his again before turning off the lamp. When you felt a squeeze in your palm, you smiled and laid over, allowing sleep to take control.

---

You were startled awake by Jay, who sat across from you, peering at the clock, as though intently staring at it.

You scooted up and waved a hand in front of his face to grab his attention, but he continued to stare at the clock.

“You have a few hours left, you know? Sorry, I was just doing some math." He turned to face you as you stumbled out of bed, grasping the bedside table before lifting yourself up like a drunk woman.

“Oh, well, it appears that my body is shutting down. Fun.” As you pushed him out of the room, you gave him a thumbs up.

“Let me get dressed; I want to look my best for when I DIE!” Jay was startled and furrowed his brows as he walked slowly to his seat, pondering why this generation was so eager to die.

You put on a cute hoodie your grandmother gave you and threw on some pants. As you fumbled about for shoes, you heard Jay ask a question from the other side of the door that made you pause.

'Are you going to call your parents or someone else?'

When you think back on your life, you were in theirs, but not much of them were in yours, which made you resentful of them. You didn't dislike them; you just preferred to spend your time and energy with people who made you feel at ease.

Your grandparents made you feel that way and you didn't have time to waste on people who you could care less about.

“I guess I'll send a text over.” Huffing, you took out your phone and entered your message into an already-created group chat.

"Hey guys, I'm not feeling well, could you come tomorrow?" you say.

(read 10:25 a.m.)

(typing bubbles)

(bubbles disappears)

Mom: This is such a last-minute thing, but your father and I are leaving tomorrow for a business trip that will last a week. Maybe when we come back. I'll send Sylvia over because I gave her the day off. “Be careful.”

Throwing your phone you yelled aggressively as you looked around your space. Even while you're dying, they don't give a damn about you. What is fucking family anymore?  You took one final look at your bed before stepping out and calling Jay, as if you didn't care any longer.

“Hey you good, I heard screaming but didn't want to interrupt if you were nude or something,” he said, looking up at your hesitant face. As you passed him on your way to the door, a smile crept across your lips.

“Oh shut up, come on, I got a request.”

Jay got up and walked past you as you turned to see your whole life stored away in a small space. Even if you didn't know where Jay would lead you, you had a feeling it would be better, right?

“Goodbye” As you walked slowly to your car in the parking lot, you grabbed Jay's hand in yours as you closed the door. As you held his hand even more, you felt it tense up.

“Hey what was that for?”

“You whine a lot, don't you? Come on, I've got a few more dying wishes before you take me and send me off somewhere, let's fucking go.”

He saw you let go of your hand as you walked to the opposite side of your car, hopped in, and turned on the ignition.

“Are you sure you're up for this? I don't want you passing out on me.”

Jay rushed next to you as he reached for your shoulder as a cough steadily burst from your throat, causing you to grasp your chest in anguish. You shook your head and gave your body a couple shakes as you waved your hand at him.

“I'm good, you know the exact time, so give me a heads up whenever I'm close.” “Anyway, less about my condition and more on the fun we're about to have.”

You put your foot on the brake and drove out the parking lot and on your way to the boardwalk that was a good distance away.

“Sit back, it'll be around 2 hours before we get to my favorite spot.”

Jay offered you a troubled expression as he laid his head on the window, pondering the time you had left while gazing out the window.

*8 hours left, you had eight hours left*

---

Coming up over the infamous hill, you notice the blue seas and immediately begin to brighten up as you repeatedly punch Jay in the arm.

“Jay... Jay... JAYYYY loook were here,” He grabbed your hand and swung it the other way before slowly turning to face you before your final punch. Don't bother Reapers while they're asleep; they don't get enough sleep as it is, and constantly bringing souls is exhausting.

“Please stopp I heard you the first five fucking times.” As he turned back to face the water, he rolled his eys and chuckled a little. The way the waves drenched the salty surface back and forth was more than simply water; it was an artwork.

Even though this might be your last moments on earth, you were glad you found someone to spend them with as you saw Jay's look. You put your hand on his shoulder and signaled for you to depart.

He stepped out of the car, mesmerized by the quiet waters, and walked over to your side, his gaze never leaving the sea.

“It's strange, I've seen my days of oceans before, and I've probably gone to all of them many times, but this one feels different. For a little moment, I forgot I wasn't human. Oh that remind me”

Jay rotated in a circle as he appeared to you dressed in more fashionable attire to placate the human crowd. He clutched your arm as he lost his footing for a second, then raced forward towards the boardwalk, thanking you.

“Hurry up, I didn't transform into a normal male for nothing, I want to see what you folk do up here.” He sneaked a glimpse at you as you laughed heartily at him, and before he knew it, you were running past him, his hand in yours, and on your way to the boardwalk's many attractions.

Spilled ice cream cups, lost money from arcade games, the sides of yours and his faces scorching from a lack of sunscreen, and not to mention the continual brushing of each other's hands were all part of the day. You took Jay's hand as the crowds filtered off the boardwalk and brought him to one of your favorite areas, the sand. As you approach the ocean now that the sun has lowered somewhat, it feels chilly.

As you stand in the cool ocean, letting the waves wash over your feet and taking a deep breath, attempting to relax, you feel a touch on your back. When you open your eyes, you notice Jay standing next to you, his gaze fixed on you. You laughed and placed your head on his shoulder; he didn't flinch or react this time.

He'd become accustomed to it and even loved it.

“How much time do we have left? Will I miss the sunset? Please say no.” You drooped your lips and glanced towards him, anxiously awaiting his response.

“Don't worry, you'll have time,” he said, taking your hand in his and pulling you down further away from the water as you both watched at the ball of light travelling toward the horizon.

The dazzling and flaming sun began to be swallowed by the sky as nightfall approached. The sky suddenly fills with beautiful, rich colors ranging from soothing blues to powerful reds and bright oranges, and finally thin, melancholy clouds.

Jay drew you closer, which surprised you, but you didn't mind because it was getting colder and fewer people were leaving the beach, leaving fragments of people strewn about. Jay drew your attention to himself before relaying the news to you.

Allow me to speak before I say what I truly need to say; these past three weeks have been incredible and eye-opening. I had no idea there were individuals out there that battled and were as brave as you. I understand how difficult it must be to go through all of these changes, but-”

A tear trickled down your face as you coughed, interrupting his speech.

*10 minutes left*

“Oh don’t start crying,” “All I wanted to say is thank you for allowing me to experience something different than my typical routine,” you joked as you pushed his chest. I don't get out very often, but tonight was enjoyable; I hope it distracted you from your worries.”

As you clasped your chest and pulled Jay out of worry, a fast cough attack hit your system.

*5 minutes left*

“I-i woul-l-d love to talk more about our fond memories but my chest is hurting and I think you need to get to the point.” You unbunched his shirt from your fist and let him continue, smiling despite your pain.

He embraced you in his arms because he was afraid he wouldn't have enough time to relay everything.

“Fuck it” 

He drew you in and kissed you again, this time more passionately than before. Your heart skipped a beat as heat rose from your stomach to your chest, and you weren't sure if it was a legitimate emotion or your condition was approaching. As you drew him closer to you, flinging your arms around his neck and smiling, the fragrance of salty sea water filled your nostrils. This moment, the taste of him… It calmed your racing thoughts and made you feel as if your heart was slowing down.

*1 minute left*

As you backed away from his kiss, your eyesight faded in and out, and as you looked about, your vision in the inner corners of your eyes started to go black. It was occurring, and your time was running out. You staggered into Jay's arms as he spoke into your ear, looking back at him.

“See you on the other side Y/N”

---

When you first awoke, you peered around at the dark waters, then looked up to see the real Jay. His Scythe's blade gleamed in the moonlight, and his velvet hood blew in the breeze. Not turning around you heard his voice, distinctly differently than before.

“Get ready, we're closing in on our dock.”

You slowly stood up and felt a prickling sensation on your wrist as you noticed your bracelet was lightly shining, something it had never done before. Perhaps it was the moonlight reflecting off of it.

You observed three figures standing at the dock through the mist and tried to figure out who they were. You didn't realize it until you got off the boat.

“Gramps and Gram, what?” Your voice trembled as tears streamed down your cheeks. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing.

“Is this a joke,” As you grabbed them in a deep hug, a hand pushed you closer to them.

“We missed you pumpkin.” You turned around and went towards the dark figure, making sure not to hit his Scythe as you drew Jay into a hug as you got snot on his coat.

“I thought you said you couldn't find them,” you remarked. “I had given up hope.” His face was obscured by a black gloom, so you couldn't see him.

“Um, sorry but could you change back to your normal self, just this once.” Jay reappeared in his usual body, simply regular old Jay, in a split second.

“I apologize for forgetting about that, but please don't thank me. It was all my pal Jake over there.” You turned around and raced over to Jake, hugging him and almost shoving him off the dock.

“Thank you thank you so much, I owe you one.” “Don't worry about it,” he said as he stepped back.

After letting go of him, you returned to the location where your grandparents were standing and took their hands in yours. It was time for you to leave, and all you had to do was walk away.

As tears streamed down your cheeks, you came to a halt and turned around to face him. It didn't take long for you to run back into his arms.

“I'm not usually this way, but I'm glad I found someone I can call a friend.” Jay, I hope we run across each other. Thank you for everything; I just wanted to let you know that your efforts are appreciated.”

You let him go and wave to him after pulling him into a goodbye kiss. You hear him calling out to you.

“I think I like you Y/N?”

“Well, I think we should talk about that the next time I see you.” You turn back and continue on your journey, giggling at his childish antics as you fade into the darkness.

As he and Jake hopped back into the boat to return home, Jay's smile never faded.

“I told you so”

“Oh shut it.”

He'd finally found that thing you'd always talked about, that haven where you felt so comfortable that the rest of the world couldn't possibly come crashing down around you. He was overjoyed to have discovered his HOME and vowed to do everything in his power to ensure he never lost it.

“See you soon Y/N.”

☆ ҉ ◢▅◣

➳ Navigate to the Maze

[britishsass]

No Astrolathe AU

Time for another of those aus I came up with and then forgot to ever talk about

I used to call this the “Happy Ending” au, but looking closer, it... Really isn’t a happy ending, so I’m renaming it to "No Astrolathe AU” or “NA AU” because it’s more fitting.

Basic idea: What if Ford asked for help instead of just using the astrolathe on 3 different people? 

If he asked for help with it, they could all manage to do what they were intending to do in PN2: Taking care of Maligula and getting Lucy back. The seven go in together, and they help her with the problem, ending up with Lucy safe and sound. However, now they have a few other problems:

They have to hide Lucy as much as they can.

Helmut’s body is still in Grulovia, and there’s no way they can go to Grulovia to search for it in this time of turmoil.

Lucy is terrified of what’s going on with her nephew, Augustus, and really wants to make sure he’s safe and sound.

They’re trying to avoid all press because they’re harboring a war criminal and they’d have to lie so much about how they defeated Maligula.

So eventually, they decide the best option is to send someone to go get Augustus and then set up even more illusions and such to keep others away. The Psychonauts become a story told of people who defeated Maligula, then faded away as quickly as they appeared. Someone gets Augustus and brings him to GNG, where the others are, and they decide to take care of him.

The thing is, Augustus is still traumatized. He’s a big ol’ mess. And these dudes don’t know how to handle this kid.

As well, they seem to attract more people in need of help or a place to hide-- A kid looking to run from his parents who hate him as he longs to sail. A young boy who’s harboring a bunny who just really wants a friend to talk to. A little girl who hasn’t been able to sit still after her house burned down. They’re all lost and alone, and somehow they found their way to the Gulch. The Psychonauts are a group of misfits, lost and confused, and they’re doing their best to help each other. 

Eventually they hear about all that Psitanium in Shaky Claim and how that place was shut down, leaving just the tower. And of course, them being stupid and weird, they decide to go on a rescue mission there to see if those guys are psychic too. Leading to more trouble for the group, and a massive cast of weirdos. Speaking of, here’s the cast.

Characters:

Kids: 

Augustus “Augie” Aquato - The main character. A traumatized mess of a boy, mostly mute, and he has issues forming new connections with people. He works with hydrokinesis and circus tricks, forming his own ways of doing things as he avoids getting close to people and tries to figure out what on earth he should do.

Sasha Nein - A nervous geek who can infodump whenever he feels like it. He still works a lot with his hands, making things and trying his best to be self-sufficient. He’s very quiet about what happened to his family, and avoids talking about how he made his way to America. He still has a heavy accent, and speaks in German when he’s nervous.

Camilla “Milla” Vodello - A happy-go-lucky girl who’s usually got a song in her head and a smile on her lips. She watched her house burn down, but she doesn’t really know how to handle her sadness, so instead she pushes it all down and hides it behind a smile. She still misses her family, and paints when she can.

Truman Zanotto - Only shows up sometimes, but he loves his uncles. He’s got a mild crush on Hollis, not that he’d admit it, and he enjoys getting to hang out with the others. He’s basically a lot like Adam, but more likely to be dragged into things. He’s also likely to sprout poison ivy when he’s in a bad mood.

Hollis Forsythe - A hard worker, one who pushes herself a bit too hard. She’s very vulnerable to burnout, but she’s working hard to learn everything she can and to make others proud of her. She wants to be a doctor when she gets older. Or a teacher.

Caligosto “Cal” Loboto - A very polite young boy who longs to sail. He’s almost always holding Lucy’s hand, and he always wants to show the others things he’s doing. Otto cheers him on a lot. He should not do that. Cal’s got a habit of going a bit too far, and he’s an incredibly strong psychic, but he’s also known to cause trouble for the group on accident because of it.

Morceau “Morry” Oleander - He’s known to be a really soft kid, and he’s always hanging out with Mr. Bun. Though he’s usually pretty friendly and a big crybaby, Mr. Bun is not held back by human customs, and has been known to bite if someone is mean to Morry.

Adults:

Ford Cruller - A bit of a mess, but still working to keep the group safe. He and Lucy are dating, but it’s kind of confused because of everything that happened. He and Otto are very, very close as well, and haven’t found a label for their relationship. He tends to push a bit hard, especially on Augustus, but he steps off when he realizes it.

Robert “Bob” Zanotto - Not much changed after the battle for him, though he does drink a bit more than he should because he misses being able to hold his husband’s hand. He’s one of the first to say he’ll forgive Lucy.

Otto Mentallis - Mostly keeping it together, since the others are still around. He can be overdramatic and cause a lot of explosions, but he enjoys working with Sasha, and he trusts that these kids will be good.

Helmut Fullbear - Stuck as a brain in a ball, he’s not exactly having the best time, though he pretends everything’s okay. He tends to keep using clairvoyance on Bob, so if someone’s with Bob, it’s almost certain that Helmut’s there, sensing the same things.

Cassie O’Pia - She’s doing well, since everyone is together. She enjoys spending time with the younger kids and reading to them, and she loves getting to teach them about the world around them. She still has issues with how to deal with everything that happened, though.

Compton Boole - Still a bit anxious, still sets off extra explosions, but he’s happy to cook for the group and make sure everyone’s okay and well-fed. His kid comes to visit sometimes as well.

Lucrecia “Lucy” Mux - Lucy’s still mostly the same person, though she’s dealing with a lot of trauma. She tends to keep away from others a bit more, since she worries about them being hurt as well. Even so, she returns to them with time, and she does her best to help her nephew.

Young Adults/later additions:

Fred Bonaparte

Boyd Cooper

Edgar Teglee

Gloria Von Gouten

Penelope Delucca (Sheegor)

(Maybe Crispin Whytehead, if he’s lucky)

Other than that? Anything goes. I’d imagine that the kids are around intern age, and the TT crew are about 10 years younger than the Psychic 7 because i refuse to accept the insanity of the timeline in this au. 

But yeah! Hope you guys enjoyed reading :)

[morganaspendragonss]

holly's august extravaganza day 17: you and me (moving through this world as a two-man team)

for both my incredible birthday twin jenny (@laelipoo) and a little bit for myself! i hope you are having a wonderful, wonderful day and i wish you all the love in the world. i'm so glad we became friends and i cannot tell you how glad i am for our conversations 🥰🥰🥰

many, many, many thanks to jenny as well for helping me out with the plot!

ao3 | 3.1k | firefighter carlos, hurt/comfort, pining, developing relationship, major character injury (two of them 😌)

TK does not have a crush on the 126's latest hire.

Carlos Reyes: an Austin local, an incredible firefighter, and—objectively speaking—the most beautiful man TK has ever laid eyes on. Which is, in fact, the entire point; TK has eyes and, yes, he will use them to sneak a look or two when he’s suddenly sharing space with a man who looks like a Greek god.

That does not mean he has a crush, Paul.

(and, sure, maybe he does sometimes dream about how soft Carlos’s lips look and the soft blush he gets when he laughs and those little flecks of gold in his eyes, but he’s only human)

(how TK knows about the gold in Carlos’s eyes is none of anybody’s business)

The thing about Carlos Reyes is that he isn’t only stupidly hot; he’s also just plain nice. TK can’t even make up a flimsy excuse to keep his distance. Carlos is, quite literally, perfect.

He shares recipes and book recommendations with Paul, he spars with Marjan, he discusses superheroes with Mateo, and Judd has had nothing but good things to say since before Carlos even joined them. Apparently they’d worked together a lot before the explosion, when Carlos was with the 116, and he’s ‘one of the best damn firefighters’ Judd has ever seen.

He even makes time to hang with the paramedics, which...isn’t a new development, exactly. But it is recent, and TK is willing to bet they’d still be pretty divided if Tim hadn’t suddenly transferred back to Maryland and he hadn’t taken the leap to be a full paramedic.

Even after that… His friends were hardly going to abandon him after he switched, but Nancy had still only been semi-included at best. She’d called him out about it during their first week working together, but fixing it had been a slow process.

Until Carlos came along, that is. Excluding Judd, they all regularly hang out at his place now, and Nancy’s inclusion had never even been a question. Safe to say, Carlos has charmed everyone in the firehouse, including both captains, and the worst part is, he doesn’t seem to realise he’s doing it.

He’s perfect, from his freakishly toned body to his infuriatingly sweet personality to his incredible skills in the field, and TK does not have a crush, goddammit!

One morning about three weeks after Carlos’s arrival, TK is greeted in the firehouse by the sound of a long, beautiful laugh coming from the kitchen. Three weeks is an embarrassingly short amount of time to admit that he’s memorised everything about him, but he instantly recognises the noise as coming from Carlos, even if he can’t see him yet.

He saunters into the kitchen, where Carlos is standing with Paul, and leans up against the counter. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Carlos turns with a winning smile and holds out a steaming mug of coffee, clearly freshly made even though TK only got in two minutes ago.

He blinks. “How—” Then, taking in the slight pinkness to Carlos’s cheeks, “Are you seriously offering me your own coffee, Reyes?”

Carlos shrugs, forcing the mug into TK’s hands. “I only just made it so technically it belongs to anyone, and I can always make another,” he says. “Besides, you look like you could use it more than me.”

His grin has TK narrowing his eyes and stubbornly refusing to drink even though Carlos is right—he really, really needs it.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that was an insult.”

“Who says you do know better?”

TK splutters, momentarily left speechless in the face of Carlos’s smile and the twinkle in those goddamn eyes. He turns to Paul for help, but Paul...has disappeared. Huh. TK honestly hadn't noticed him go.

He shakes his head and looks back to Carlos, only to be stunned silent again by the way his smile has softened into something else, something more.

TK’s heart skips a beat or two and he swallows, staring down into Carlos’s coffee. “Whatever, Reyes,” he mutters.

It was too late for a witty comeback anyway.

Carlos’s laugh follows him out of the kitchen, and TK wonders when, exactly, he let himself fall this far.

*

“Earth to TK? Hello?”

TK is rudely snapped back to reality by one Nancy Gillian’s hand waving violently in his face. He scowls at her, to which she responds with an eye roll.

“Stop drooling over your man and come help me with inventory.”

“I’m not drooling,” TK argues, following her over to the rig. “And he’s not my man.”

“Right,” Nancy drawls, folding her arms over her chest as she leans against the ambulance. “So you’re just going to deny that weird energy around you two that makes the rest of us feel like we’re creeping on something?”

“Exactly.” TK nods emphatically, then frowns. “Wait, what?”

Nancy casts her eyes heavenward. “You know,” she says, “you’re a lot of things, Strand, but I hadn’t pegged you for oblivious.”

TK’s next words are reflexive, said without thought for the consequences—the story of his life, really.

“I’m not oblivious!”

The grin spreading over Nancy’s face rams home just how much he’s fucked up with those three words. TK drops his head in his hands and groans, unable and unwilling to look Nancy in the eye.

“Not a word,” he warns, which Nancy appears to respect, for now. TK is well aware that there will be words—several of them—later, whether he wants them or not.

The thing is, he really isn’t oblivious. He knows perfectly well what Nancy is talking about and he has often fantasised about all the things he’d do to Carlos given half a chance. TK likes Carlos, way more than just in the physical sense, and he’s pretty sure that Carlos likes him right back. It would be so easy to start something between them and, god, TK wants to. He just… He can’t.

One year—that’s what he promised himself back in New York. One year on his own to sort his head out and figure out how he fits back into the world after the overdose. Granted, his sobriety anniversary is only a couple of months away now, but he refuses to give up on his promise, especially when he’s so close.

Maybe in a couple months, if Carlos hasn’t gotten bored of something that’s clearly going nowhere.

But not now.

*

“He did not ask me out!”

“He totally did, dude, and you know it. You want to say yes, I can tell.”

“No, I don’t. I—”

“Children,” Tommy interrupts from the back of the ambulance. They’re heading to a callout, and Nancy has not let up the entire way about something TK is certain never actually happened. “Either of you want to enlighten me on what the argument is about this time?”

“TK’s too chicken to go out with Carlos,” Nancy jumps in, before TK can stop her.

“I am not!” he protests. “Plus, he wasn’t asking me out, he said we should go over to his place for dinner sometime, which Carlos does all the time. So there.”

“Strand, you are not this dense,” Nancy snarks, probably rolling her eyes. “His exact words were, ‘You should come over sometime’.”

“We were all there! It was obviously the plural you.”

“Oh my god—”

“Alright!” Tommy sighs wearily. “Nancy, can we keep from provoking TK until we’re back at the firehouse and he’s no longer driving?”

“Ha!” TK exclaims, but Tommy’s not done.

“TK, if I weren’t your captain, I’d be telling you that Nancy is right and you should pull your head out of your ass before it’s too late, understand?”

Now it’s Nancy’s turn to be triumphant as TK struggles to form a coherent response. Thankfully, he’s saved from further torment by them finally pulling up at the scene—a warehouse where one of the workers had become trapped after parts of the upper level walkway had broken and fallen. Apparently, the falling metal had caused some of the machinery to malfunction, turning the call from simple to beyond complicated in a matter of minutes.

“TK, grab your turnout gear and your bag; I’m sending you in with them,” Tommy informs him as soon as they’re out of the rig. “Normally, we’d just talk the firefighters through it over radio, but given your training it’ll be quicker and safer for you to deal with our patient.”

TK grins; he’s missed the adrenaline rush of running into emergencies more than he can say. “Got it, Cap.”

“Maybe try and look a little less happy about a serious injury, too.”

“Copy that.”

*

The noise when they enter the warehouse is deafening, an ugly screeching cutting right through TK’s skull.

“Shouldn’t they have shut the machines off?” he shouts, fighting to be heard.

“Apparently they can’t,” Judd calls back. “Something wrong with the control panel, I don’t know exactly what.”

TK groans—just what they need. The sound is lost in the din, but Carlos still looks over and gives him a sympathetic grin, shrugging in a ‘what can you do’ motion. TK can’t help but grin back, the mere sight of Carlos easing the annoyance he feels and the headache already beginning to build behind his eyes.

Their patient, when they reach him, is pinned under a large, heavy-looking sheet of metal. He’s bleeding from a gash on his temple and his skin is worryingly pale, to the extent that TK can tell even from a distance. He jogs to the patient’s side and kneels down, pressing his fingers against his neck.

“Cap, I have a pulse,” he reports into his radio after a few seconds. “But he’s unconscious with a head wound, and I think there are probably injuries I can’t see yet. Possible spinal damage, but I can’t tell until we’ve got this metal off him.”

“Copy that,” Captain Vega says. “Get ready to run a line; he’s gonna need it as soon as he’s free.”

TK nods and moves to secure a c-collar around his neck. “We need to cut this thing off of him,” he says, addressing the team. “Quickly, but carefully.”

Judd steps forward, brandishing the saw. He hands TK a couple of spare turnouts and kneels on the patient’s other side. “Couple of you need to cover him, and yourselves.”

TK doesn’t even have to ask before Carlos appears next to him, taking one of the turnouts from him. He smiles gratefully before arranging himself to provide maximum protection to all three of them as Judd starts working on the metal. The vibrations from the saw are unpleasant, and TK dreads to think what effect it’s having on the already unstable machinery, but it’s the only option they have to get their patient free.

Fortunately, everything seems to go off without a hitch, and soon the team are able to remove the metal. TK immediately gets to work, feeling for any damage. As he suspected, there’s a pretty large gash on the man’s leg which is bleeding badly, though thankfully it seems to have missed any arteries. He also seems to have a broken wrist, but he should heal.

TK quickly wraps his leg, then gets Carlos and Judd to help move him onto the spine board. It feels like, for once, the call has gone as smoothly as possible, and TK allows himself a breath of relief as they prep to get the guy outside to the ambulance.

Naturally, that’s when everything goes to hell.

The machine closest to them lets out a threatening groan and shudders before there’s a loud roar and it explodes. On instinct, TK folds himself over the patient as shrapnel rains down on them, and he sees Carlos doing the same in his periphery.

The downpour seems to last forever, but eventually it slows and comes to a stop. TK cautiously lifts his head, his heart pounding, and sags in relief as it seems that the worst is over.

They need to get out of here, now.

He stands, a brief stab of pain running through his back—probably because of his awkward position over the patient—and turns to Carlos, reaching to offer him a hand up.

Only to see Carlos’s face tight with agony, and then the cause—a jagged piece of shrapnel running right through his hand.

“Carlos,” TK breathes, horrified. Carlos looks up at him, his breathing carefully measured and his eyes wide, and TK drops back to his knees, reaching out for him. “It’s okay, I’ve got you, don’t worry.”

Carlos swallows and nods, his eyes squeezing tight. TK’s heart rate skyrockets, and he’s barely able to keep his cool as he signals to the others to get their first patient out of the warehouse.

“Cap, the team are bringing him out, but we have a problem.”

“Talk to me, Strand, what’s going on?”

“It—It’s Carlos.” TK breathes out shakily and takes a moment to steady himself before continuing, “It’s not serious, but some of the machinery broke apart and some shrapnel impaled his hand. I’ve got to stabilise the shard before we come out to you.”

“Alright, but hurry. I don’t want you guys in there for longer than necessary.”

“Copy.”

Stabilising the shrapnel with rolls of gauze and wrapping Carlos’s hand should be a matter of course—it’s an easy process that TK could probably do in his sleep. But this is Carlos, so his damn hands won’t stop shaking and he almost fumbles and drops his supplies.

He manages though, and soon he’s helping Carlos up, instructing him to hold his injured hand above his heart. Carlos sends him a wobbly smile, which ends up turning out to be more of a grimace, but it’s a comfort nonetheless. Things could have gone so much worse today; TK could have even lost him, and he would have never been able to—

But that’s not important. Carlos is okay, or he will be, and they still have plenty of time to figure out whatever this is between them.

Everything will be okay.

TK’s back and side twinge again as they make their way out, but he brushes it off, too focused on getting Carlos to the hospital as fast as possible. Tommy shakes her head as they make their way over, her eyebrows raised despite the concern clearly in her expression.

“Never a peaceful moment with you, Strand, is it?” she asks dryly, hissing as she inspects Carlos’s wound.

“In my defence, Cap,” he says, more at ease now that they’re safe, “it’s not me who’s injured this time.”

Tommy hums, then directs Carlos into the back of the rig, jumping in after him. “Get back here, TK. Nancy’s driving.”

She has a teasing look in her eyes that instantly makes TK suspicious, but he moves to comply, shrugging off his turnout coat as he does. The movement hurts, which is weird, but he thinks nothing of it.

At least, until Tommy’s eyes go wide and she stands from her seat, holding her hands out towards him. “TK, do not move,” she instructs, her eyes firmly fixed on his right side.

TK frowns, then follows her gaze down, and— Oh.

His grey undershirt is stained with blood, and it’s difficult to miss the large piece of metal sticking out of his side. He has no idea how he missed it, but now that he knows, the pain slams into him full force, causing him to stagger.

“Oh,” he gasps, eloquently.

Then, his legs buckle and the world goes black.

*

TK wakes up to a steady beeping sound, which only exacerbates his pounding headache. He groans, scrunching his face up, before slowly peeling his eyes open, almost slamming them shut again after getting an eyeful of obnoxiously bright fluorescents.

“You’re awake,” a voice says, sounding surprised, then the lights suddenly dim, the room lit by the gentle glow of a lamp. TK sighs in relief and shifts to look at his saviour.

It’s Carlos.

“You… You’re here,” TK states, confused. His gaze drifts down Carlos’s body and lands on the white bandages around his hand, the memories of the warehouse suddenly hitting him all at once. “Shit, you— How are you?”

Carlos shakes his head and comes to sit in the chair by TK’s bed. “I can’t believe you’re the one asking me that.”

“I’m a paramedic, it’s my job.”

“Not when you’re the one in the hospital bed,” Carlos counters, sighing. “If you must know, I’m fine. They gave me some pretty good drugs, so…” He shrugs, and TK can’t help but laugh, which proves to be a very bad idea.

His side lights up, an unnecessary reminder that TK is very much not on the good drugs, and he moans softly, slowly settling back in the bed. “I hate you,” he mumbles, eyes closed.

“You love me,” Carlos says, and TK’s heart seizes in his chest.

The silence after his words is deafening, so TK forces himself to crack his eyes open enough to look at him. Carlos is frozen in his chair, biting his lip hard, and he looks like he either wants to bolt or be swallowed by the earth.

TK thinks he should probably be feeling the same. They’ve been dancing around this issue for weeks now, and he’d thought he had it under control. That he could last that little bit longer until his one year was up; that he could ignore these feelings that have been steadily growing since he first laid eyes on Carlos.

It was a hopeless endeavour; he recognises that now. TK remembers the fear he felt when Carlos was injured back at the warehouse, the desperation for him to be better, and now with his own injury…

He could have lost this chance before he ever got it, and TK isn’t about to let it slip through his fingers now. He reaches out and takes Carlos’s good hand, startling him into meeting TK’s eyes.

“Yeah,” TK whispers, just loud enough for Carlos to hear him. “I think I do.”

The smile Carlos gives him lights up the room, and he doesn’t waste any time in leaning down to kiss TK. And it’s… It’s everything TK had hoped and imagined it would be and more. It’s soft and sweet and gentle and perfect, and he never wants it to end.

But end it does, though Carlos doesn’t go far. TK smiles at him, squeezing his hand with all the strength he can muster.

“That’s a yes, by the way,” he says.

Carlos frowns. “What?”

TK’s smile widens and he flicks his eyebrows at Carlos. “To dinner. Or were you not asking me out after all?”

Carlos huffs a laugh, and the look in his eyes when they lock back onto TK’s melts his heart and makes his entire chest ache. “Does Friday work for you?”

He nods, tugging Carlos down for another kiss. “It’s a date.”

[cellard0ors]

Fic: Movement (2/?)

Still dedicated to the wonderful @peachworthy. you read part one than you know - GMM Rhink AU - College Student Link/Pornstar Rhett AU

“Got it right again, man! You’re going to ace this test!” Rhett crows as he tosses down another notecard and Link pumps his arms in triumph. The two of them are settled in the kitchen, piles of books and notecards spread around as well as few bottles of beers and some bowls of chips.

Link picks up one chip and pops it into his mouth, grinning at his roommate fondly, “Well, couldn’t’ve done it without you, pal. You are, without a doubt, the best study buddy I’ve ever had.”

“Aw shucks, gonna make me blush,” Rhett laughs even though it’s Link who feels his cheeks actually grow warm, his friend’s laughter a common cause of the occurrence.

They’ve been living together for over a month now and it’s been beyond amazing. Link would’ve never guessed a guy like Rhett and a guy like him would work so well together.

It’s like they’re the world’s weirdest, most convoluted puzzle yet all the pieces click together to form a full picture that is nothing short of a masterpiece. True, there’s a lot about Rhett Link doesn’t know yet (and gosh is there a lot he wants to know) but their friendship is running smoothly.

Well, smoothly save for the massive crush Link has on the guy, albeit he’s doing his damned best to squash it. Yes, Rhett’s attractive and yes, he’s the first guy Link’s ever met that he’s felt a real zing for, but the fact of the matter is – Link would much rather have him as a friend and roommate than lose him as a…well, Link’s not sure if he’d lose him, but the mere possibility keeps Link’s lips sealed.

Besides, it’s okay to crush on someone and never act on it. People do it all the time. Not to mention that it’s a bit…odd to crush on someone in Rhett’s line of work. Isn’t it?

Link can’t think of too many people who will admit to crushing on an adult film star. Regular, mainstream film stars, sure – but adult film stars?

Yeah…

Although, to be frank, Link’s sure there are some that do. And, hopefully, some of them are not the creepy internet troll-y kind of people, but genuine salt of the earth folks like himself. Because, okay, he is crushing on one so…

Rhett is toying with the cards, maybe looking for the next question to quiz Link on when he asks idly, “Y’know, Link – I gotta say, I admire your stamina.”

That remarks makes Link choke on the drink he’s just been consuming, a cough clearing it up some as he croaks, “I’m-I’m sorry?”

Rhett hums noncommittally, as if not noticing the gaffe, “You’ve had yet to grill me about my job. Normally, once folks hear about it, that’s all they want to talk about.”

“Oh,” Link breathes out loosely, “Well, ah-? It-? It just…seemed rude to-to ask…”

“Been over a month living with me now. You telling me you ain’t interested?”

“I didn’t say that!” Link quips back much quicker than he would like, but Rhett just gives him the most perfect smile. All sincere and warm beneath his beard and remember, Link, you’re doing you’re best not to crush on him!

Rhett is still toying with the cards, eyelashes downcast, the very visual definition of shy as he murmurs, “Just sayin’…I don’t mind if you wanna ask some stuff.”

Link’s eyebrows rise in such a way as to damn near bump his glasses off, “Y-You sure?”

Rhett draws in a deep inhale and then sits the cards down. He crosses his arms and leans back in his seat, looking quite serious even despite the casual red flannel and jeans, as if this was more of an interview (or perhaps an interrogation?) than anything else, “Shoot.”

The a million and one questions that Link has kept at bay about Rhett’s job and more personal life threaten to cave his skull in as they crash about in his mind. However, he has to go with the obvious, “Know this’ll be predictable, but…why?”

Rhett just bobs his head in an understanding nod even as Link pushes on, “Why and how?”

Rhett sucks on his teeth before picking up his own beer and taking a fortifying sip before continuing, “The two are kinda interconnected to be honest. Had a fallin’ out with my family. Think I mentioned it in passin’ to you once. But, to clarify; they weren’t too happy with my chosen living destination nor with the fact that I’d come to terms with the notion that I’m attracted to both the ladies and the gents.”

Link’s mind immediately (and joyously) clings to ‘the gents’ remark, bookmarking it for future reference, even as Rhett continues his tale, “You grew up where we did. So you get it.”

Link does. And then, to nail the point home, Rhett adds, “Probably get it a lot more than others. If my…instincts are to be believed.”

Shit.

SHIT.

Link’s whole body immediately bursts into flame, the tips of his ears so hot he’s sure they’re glowing bright red.

Rhett knows I’m gay. He knows. I thought having a radar for that kind of thing was bullhonkey, but he knows and oh, lord, oh lord – do I give off some sorta vibe? I know that girl in my screenwriting class, Stevie, she teased me about being an A-Level twink or something, but I didn’t think-!

Rhett’s laughter carves right through Link’s insecurities, “Take a breath, brother! Look like you’re about to pop!”

Link does and Rhett just shakes his head, still grinning, “Point being – I was pretty much a babe in the woods when I came to LA. Not two nickels to my name, so I took whatever gigs I could get. Managed to snag a few commercials and things of that nature, but you know the drill. Jobs are hard to come by. And a guy of my height?”

He blows out a big breath and tosses all of those luxurious curls about with a rueful head shake, “Yeah, most people fingered me for a baller, so – again – jobs were hard to come by. But then, wouldn’t you know it? A friend of a friend of a contact told me about this part they thought I’d be perfect for.”

Another deep barrel chested chuckle emerges as he reminiscences, “Mighta been nice of ‘em to let me know it was actually a part of me they thought would be perfect.”

Do not zero in on his crotch! Do NOT zero in on his crotch! Charles Lincoln Neal the Third DO NOT-!

Link keeps his eyes so steadfastly forward he probably looks like some bug eyed zombie. If Rhett notices, he doesn't comment, “Anyway, when I found out what the role was, I had planned to politely decline but, y’know, the money they offered…”

There’s an easy shrug and this Link can look at. He looks at Rhett, who looks a bit sheepish as he scratches at one side of his beard, “I mean, again, you grew up where I did. So, you know how the whole ‘wait until marriage’ thing was drilled into your head, but I figured it wasn’t like anybody would know. My family’d cut me off, my friends were few and far in between, and the people on set…”

Now he looks a bit happier and Link can’t help but smile along with him, “The people on set were all right. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard the kind of stories people tend to spin – the exploitation, the drug abuse, other questionable stuff…place I was at wasn’t like that. I mean, maybe I just lucked out or something, but it was…”

Another shrug and he goes for his beer again. Link figures this is as good a time as any to get in another question, “So, you did that and then you…? Just kept going?”

Rhett nods as he drinks, the bottle leaving his mouth with an obscene pop that Link is going to do his best to forget all about right now and certainly not recall at any point in the future (and most certainly NOT when he’s jacking off later), “Yeah, I did the one and the director really liked me. He pull me aside and told me about this company he was trying to set up with a couple of buddies of his. They wanted to go in a classier direction – know how funny that sounds, but he was serious.”

“So, what? No, like, blockbuster porno knock offs? Like ‘Sex in The City and ON the City’ or ‘Arma-get-it-on’?”

“Think you stole that last one from an episode of CSI.”

“I did, doesn’t change the question.”

They’re both smiling like a couple of fools, but the mood is good and the atmosphere light as Rhett sighs, “Yeah, nothing like that. I’ve actually worked with a few female directors, shot some things with great budgets, nice lighting, good costumes…”

“Oooo, costumes,” Link teases in the silliest voice and Rhett swats out at him. Link avoids the hit even as Rhett rolls his eyes, “I’m serious, dude. Some of the things that department pumps out looks better than anything you’d see in Hollywood.”

“Hmm, some kinda wood,” Link snickers and this time Rhett’s swat makes impact, brushing Link’s shoulder and Link would be embarrassed by the giggle he lets out, if it weren’t for the way Rhett’s nose is all scrunched up, making him look beyond adorable, “You’re sucha brat!”

Link sticks out his tongue and Rhett just laughs. They turn their attention to the drinks and chips for awhile before Link circles around to another question, “You like it then?”

“It’s a living,” Rhett confirms, not really answering one way or another, “Like I said – make great money, work with some really nice people.”

“Uh,” Link scratches behind one ear, “Hate to ask, but, um…clean people?”

Rhett doesn’t seem offended, “You bet. Have to be. Another reason I’ve done this as long as I have. Money's great, but the safety is even better. I’m currently under contract with that same company I told you about – the one that director brought me under. On top of wanting to,” he air quotes his next words, “be classier’-”

He drops the quotes, “They wanted to provide an excellent work environment. Heck, me and the other actors and actresses probably have a cleaner bill of health than the entire state. Can’t shoot scene one until you’ve got the A-Okay.”

“Huh,” Link absorbs that with some surprise, but then, he supposes it really shouldn’t be. The adult film industry is a big lumbering beast right alongside it’s more recognized counterpart. No reason one shouldn’t be as cautious as the other. If anything, one has more right to be cautious.

Thinking on this, Link suddenly feels an odd pang. It’s a shame in one way that’s one viewed as more reckless than the other, more questionable. But, when viewed through a mostly puritan lens…

Not wanting to get too philosophical, Link switches gears, “You been in a lot of films?”

“My fair share.”

Another dodge, but Link will let him have it. However, he can practically feel devil horns rise as he asks with a naughty gleam to his eye, “Win any awards?”

Rhett’s practically preening, “Several.”

“Really?” Link asks with some surprise, but Rhett suddenly looks quite naughty himself. Naughty and…a bit too hot for Link’s liking as the heat that always seems to surround him when he’s near Rhett rises and woo boy, he’s really failing at this squashing-the-crush thing.

“If you’re a good boy, maybe I’ll show you one of my trophies some time…”

Everything in Link melts into a puddle and he’s not sure what expression he’s wearing, but it’s one that makes Rhett’s whole face light up, “…or maybe, just maybe, I’ll show you a little somethin’ else…”

If it’s possible for a melted puddle to also explode, then Link’s just done it. Rhett bursts into guffaws as he reaches forward and, very smoothly, pushes Link’s jaw up because Link’s jaw? It dropped. He didn’t even feel it drop.

And then, to just add more fuel to the fire, Rhett rubs the pad of his thumb along the bottom of Link’s chin, right below his lip, “Damn, son…you’re just too much for words.”

“I…”

That’s it.

That’s all that Link can offer.

Just one sound, one vowel.

Silent and stunned and Rhett draws back, looking like the cat that ate the canary as he lets him go and rises up from his seat, “Think you need a moment. I’ll be back in a bit.”

And – just like that – Rhett saunters out of the room.

[fear-before-valor]

AU Ficlet: Jim, who was raised by the Order from the age of five, attends Arcadia Oaks High, for his first day of human high school. Weird things happen in Arcadia, though, and his appearance seems to be one such weird thing to the residents in this small, strange town... 

Aka: How an Order-raised Jim met Toby and Claire

Words: 2939 II Warnings: none II ok to rb --

Jim dropped his backpack at the empty desk next to one Tobias Domzalski’s, one of the only people at school who’d been properly friendly to him so far. It was Jim’s first day of mortal high school, and he’d been vetted mercilessly by every student group but Tobias’s, though he was beginning to suspect that said group consisted of only Tobias.

Of course, Jim had been screening his peers right back, but it was still exhausting. He thought he’d been ready after the Order’s… extensive lessons on humanity, and how to fit in with the mortals like himself, but already, everything he’d done felt like it must have been a social faux pas of some kind.

Act quiet around the quiet kids? Then no one speaks, until the silence grows so long that it’s awkward, and starting up a conversation makes it feel painfully forced. So, okay, maybe find some louder kids and try to blend in with them. Except, they start to grow obnoxious, and at some point, the headache simply stops being worth it.

Jim wasn’t even going to dare try and bond with the overly studious; he wasn’t here to vie for valedictorian, nor was he all that interested in making grades that separated him from the pack. Not to mention, he much preferred whatever lessons the Order could teach him anyway. They were very practical things, going over philosophy, strategy, combat, computations. He was already conversational in Bellroc and Skrael’s original languages, and though he knew Spanish would be equally valuable, the Spanish teacher seemed… intense, in a way that Bellroc and Skrael, who could likewise be rigorous sometimes, were not.

In fact, the only class he was indeed eager to take was history—and, okay, perhaps physical education didn’t sound horrendous, so long as he was careful about holding back in certain areas—because while he could learn plenty of history from his very ancient guardians, to hear of human history from the mouths of humans, like himself… it sounded unique, in a way that he hoped was amenable, at the very least, if not genuinely interesting or entertaining.

As he sat down in the chair beside Tobias, the boy seemed to light up, beaming over at Jim, a reaction that he hadn’t expected from his peer. He’d thought he’d rather botched his first conversation with Tobias in homeroom that morning, as he hadn’t known anything about anything that Tobias had referenced (what on earth was Gun Robot?). But, evidently, he must have done something well—or at least, acceptably— because Tobias was leaning over and excitedly holding out his hand to show Jim something which clattered in his palm as he moved. Politely, Jim glanced over to see what it was, and—oh.

Oh no.

That was definitely the remains of a troll.

Tobias was holding out small, grey pebbles for him to see, on which Jim could just make out hints of tattoos that had been etched into the troll while they were alive.

Holding back his mild panic, he gave a tight smile and a nod, as his classmate diagnosed them incorrectly as gneiss—which, admittedly, Jim thought wasn’t a bad guess, really. It’s not like the other boy had any reason to think that the rocks he was holding were anything but an average metamorphic stone.

Tobias was looking to Jim for a response, though, so he opened his mouth to speak, breathing in—

—magic.

Jim froze once more. The distinct tingle of magic had just washed over his senses, keen and undeniable, unlike anything else he’d felt that day.

It was raw, underdeveloped, not yet bolstered by the right teacher, but it was there, and it spoke in tones of purple, pulsing with potential.

Jim was no wizard himself, much preferring combat to the arcane arts, having not a strong penchant for it or its intricacies and delicate, temperamental nature, but even still, he’d been raised with the three most powerful magic-users in the known world. They’d taught him from youth how to recognize when magic was present, how to glean as many clues as he possibly could about it, or who might have cast it, might be walking in it, based on its style and scent, its intensity, or its intentionality. He wasn’t quite the best at sensing the finer details, nor could he find it when it was masked, but when it was open, unhidden, he could feel it like a mild electric shock that one might get when touching a door handle in dry weather; he could sense it like the faint scent of ozone during a storm, or like a prickle on the hairs on the back of his neck, when lightning was about to strike.

What’s going on? He thought, as he turned his head in the direction of the epicenter of the magic. First, there’s troll remains in the hands of a classmate with the same schedule as him, and then there’s—the girl, there. The girl with the blue streak in her hair.

The witch.

She’d caught him staring, as she set her books down on a desk in the front row, a couple columns over from his. Beside her plopped down two more girls—her friends, Jim noted, as they chattered familiarly, cheerfully.

The girl gave him an awkward smile, then, and Jim realized that he must have been staring for a few moments too long, so he rapidly flicked his eyes back to the surface of his own desk, trying not to think about the flush he could feel splash across the back of his neck, or the tips of his ears.

Tobias did not grant him such grace.

“Ooh,” he grinned, smug as a cat in a sunbeam. “That’s Claire Nuñez. President of the drama club, valedictorian candidate, great actress. She’s tied with Seamus Johnson and Shannon Longhannon for top of the class right now, I heard. She’s wicked smart, and—Jim?” Tobias huffed, “Are you paying attention to me?”

Jim’s eyes darted back to his new friend, from where they’d been briefly studying Claire Nuñez’s back, trying to get a more in-depth read on her arcana. He nodded distractedly. “Yeah, yeah, smart, a president; I heard you.”

Tobias sighed, shaking his head. “Jim.”

Jim raised an eyebrow, indicating that he was listening.

“She’s out of your league.” He deadpanned. “She’s super popular, and you’re, no offense, definitely not.”

Jim shot Tobias a confused look, brow furrowing. “What do you mean?”

The boy stared openly at Jim. “What do you mean, ‘what do you mean’? Do you really not— Oh my god.”

Jim blinked. “What?”

Tobias shook his head. “Jim, you’ve kinda… scared a lot of the people in our class today. They don’t know what to think about you. You’re like a giant question mark! No one even knows where you came from—”

“Ohio.” Jim recited his cover story, which Skrael had helped him pick the night previous. They’d chosen a city that started with a c… right. “Columbus, Ohio.”

Tobias shot him a deadpan look. “Okay, fine, Jim Lake from Columbus, Ohio. Why’d you suddenly move to Arcadia, then? Why not L.A.? Why not Burbank?”

Jim frowned. “Do you interrogate every newcomer like this? My parents got a good job opportunity here.” He held up one hand, “And before you ask—real estate.”

“Oh yeah? How come I haven’t seen them put up ads, then?” Tobias crossed his arms. “I’m just saying, dude; I think you’re cool, but you freak a lot of people out with that brooding, silent thing you do.”

Jim snorted. “I do what?”

“Y’know—”

“No, I don’t know—”

“You act, like, all silent and mysterious when people try to talk to you.” Tobias shrugged. “I don’t think it’s a bad thing, but some people don’t seem as ready to brush it off as me. I’m only telling you so that you can make more friends here.”

“Well, I have you, don’t I?” Jim’s head canted.

Tobias blinked, floundering at that. “Well—y…yeah, I guess so, but—”

“I mean, we are friends, aren’t we?”

It was Tobias’s turn to go a bit pink, shaking his head in bewilderment. “If you want, yeah, but—”

“Then there we go. I have a friend.” Jim smiled.

Tobias tried to protest, “But—” only to find himself cut off as Mr. Strickler strode into the classroom at that moment, placing a leather briefcase on his desk with a decisive thump. Cacophonous voices incrementally petered out, as attentive heads turned to the front of the classroom, where Mr. Strickler had pulled out a stack of syllabi, handing them to the student nearest the door, with the instructions to “take one and pass them,” spoken precisely to the class.

Tobias looked like he wanted to say something when Strickler turned his back to write his name on the chalkboard, but Jim shushed him from the corner of his mouth, opening a fresh, blank notebook as he did so. This was the only class he’d bothered to buy a separate notebook for, and, to be frank, was the only class he’d even intended to take notes in at all.

Tobias looked chagrined, but not angry, as he rolled his eyes and went to fetch a pencil from his own bag. Might as well have something to do with his idle hands for the next hour.

—

As his first day was winding to close, Jim had to admit, having a friend at school did end up making it a little easier.

The rest of his time there had passed largely unremarkably, since a rather thrilling start to the history curriculum. Jim’s hand had shot up just as much as the apparent reigning top of the sophomore class, one Miss Claire Nuñez’s, had— a fact which had, according to Tobias, already begun to percolate across campus.

The lesson had only briefly covered the basics of ancient Rome, going over a bit of easy, more widely known trivia, to see what the class already knew about their oncoming first unit, but, nonetheless, Jim had been eager to jump in, to talk almost directly to Mr. Strickler, going back and forth in the form of a discussion. He’d spoken quietly, quickly, and he’d felt the eyes of his peers glued to his desk, but had ignored the sensation altogether, in favor of listening to what his teacher had to say about aqueducts, instead.

When the hour had finally come to an end, in fact, he’d packed up slowly, most of his classmates abandoning the room as quickly as they could—the lunch period was about to begin—though Tobias was kind enough to wait for him. As such, Tobias was the only other person present to hear Mr. Strickler stop Jim after class, paying a brief compliment to his performance that day, and accompanying his words with a poster for the history club. Jim didn’t think his furtive smile had gone entirely missed by the teacher, but as they’d exited into the now mostly empty hallway, he forgot to worry about it further, as Tobias wasted no time in asking him how the heck his new friend knew so much about history already?

Jim had shrugged it off, saying that it was his favorite subject; and besides, didn’t Tobias— “Seriously, dude, it’s Toby, by the way”— know more about geology than anyone else in their class? The compliment had made Tobias—Toby— preen, and he’d promptly dropped the topic, instead launching into an enthusiastic lecture meant to coach Jim through the cafeteria process. Jim, who had tried to jump in to say that he’d heard this at orientation the week prior, but Toby had shot him an appalled look at that, swiftly informing him that orientation did nothing to help the social side of things. Sure, he knew the motions, but did he know how to do them without standing out in the crowd? Absolutely not—in fact, the thought was almost laughable, according to Toby.

So, Jim had grinned, followed Toby’s lead, and had just barely survived the ever-important lunch line waltz.

The rest of the day had passed mostly the same way, in the end. Toby, having warmed up to Jim, took him through the whole rest of the day, guiding him through the intricacies of Arcadia Oaks High, and by the time the final bell was ringing, Jim almost felt like a normal student. Some of his peers had even started waving to him in the hallways; he’d broken the ice, after all.

Well. He’d thought so, until Toby had said goodbye, peddling away on his bike toward home, leaving Jim alone in the courtyard by the bustling lockers, surrounded by students eager to either go home, as Toby had, or to dive into after-school clubs and sports.

Jim opted to take his time, though, to enjoy the Southern California sun, as he strolled casually across the campus, toward the front of the school grounds.

As he rounded the corner, though, intending to head toward the Arcadia Oaks sign, where he’d stop and shoot off a text to the Order that his first day had gone well, and that he’d be home soon, he felt a tap on his shoulder, instead, and heard a throat being cleared behind him.

He knew who it was before he even turned to face her; her magic had given her away as soon as she’d reached a hand for him.

Despite this, Jim whirled as if she’d caught him by surprise, schooling his features into something startled but friendly, relaxing his shoulders as a polite smile crossed his face, upon seeing her. “Oh, hey. Sorry, I wasn’t expecting—” he rethought his words, shaking his head. “Never mind. …It’s, ‘Claire,’ right?”

She nodded, returning his smile. “Yeah! And you’re ‘Jim Lake’, hm?”

Something about the way she asked that question sent up a warning bell in the back of Jim’s mind, but he tried not to look unsettled; it was probably just nerves.

“Yup; just Jim is fine, though.” He added with a casual laugh.

Claire tilted her head, continuing. “So, you’re quite the history buff, huh?”

Jim’s hands dropped to his pockets, as he glanced at his shoes, then back up to her. “Uh, yeah, I guess so.”

“You guess?” She teased. “You were on fire in class today.” She lifted her chin, to look at him head on. “Do I need to worry about you unseating me, Jim Lake from Columbus, Ohio?”

Jim snorted, shaking his head. “No, no; it’s not like that. History’s just a hobby.”

“Pretty intense hobby, if you know half as much as you seem like you do.” She raised an eyebrow at him.

Jim grinned. “Intense? Like being the president of drama club, the vice president of debate, and the supposed shoe-in for the lead in the play this fall?” he recited, much to Claire’s surprise, who shot him an impressed look.

“Huh. You sure do pay attention, don’t you?”

He glanced around, making it a leisurely movement, concealing the way he was searching for anyone who could overhear, before his eyes met hers again, as he said, “Only to certain people.”

Claire blinked, cheeks reddening, mistaking his meaning. “Oh, yeah? What kinds of people?”

Jim rolled the dice. “Well, people who seem nice, or kind, who I could make friends with. People who do things I wanna do, too, so I can have an ‘in’. Like clubs, and things.” he clarified.

“And, uh…” his voice grew hushed, “Magic-users in the human world.”

Claire’s face fell. “What was that last one?” Her nose scrunched with the skeptical look that overtook her features.

Jim’s eyes darted to look for an exit, realizing coldly—fearfully— that he had grossly miscalculated.

“Uh…” Stupid. He chided himself. Think of a lie before you go backing yourself into a corner. Skrael would be disappointed in him if he were here.

“Did you just say ‘the human world’ like you… aren’t human?” She stared at him suspiciously.

Jim blinked. “What? No. I’m human. Of course I’m human.” He gave a strained laugh. “What else would I be?”

“…Someone who thinks they aren’t?” Claire’s brow furrowed.

“It was a rhetor- well. I mean, I guess that’s true. But I’m not!” He smiled weakly, and then froze for a split-second, rapidly adding, “Someone who thinks they aren’t human! I know I’m human!”

Claire’s eyes shot to the street, where, to her poorly hidden relief, her dad had just pulled up to the curb, there to pick her up. “…Right. Well, Jim Lake from Cleveland, Ohio, my dad’s here, so I need to go, but this has been… interesting.”

Jim nodded rapidly, shooting her one more smile— a sheepish, apologetic one— as he gave her a shy wave. “…Yeah.”

Claire hoisted her backpack onto one shoulder, giving him a half-hearted wave back. “…Bye, Jim.”

“Bye, Claire.”

As she turned to leave, Jim frowned to himself. He wasn’t sure why, but something felt wrong. He supposed it could have been the awkward manner in which he’d acted, but in a flash, he decided that wanted to see her again, just in case that wasn’t it. He couldn’t be too careful.

So, before he missed his chance, he called after her retreating back, “See you around?”

Claire stopped, hand poised on the handle of the passenger side door, freezing there for a heart-pounding pause.

Then, she shot him a look over her shoulder, one of interest, meeting his eyes deliberately. Jim got the sense that he should heed it carefully.

“Yeah. See you around, Jim.”

[jq37]

The Report Card – Fantasy High: The Seven Ep 3

Let’s Split Up and Look for Clues! 

Welcome back to the Seven and the Museum of Adventuring. My previous pronouncement of combat was a little premature but hold tight, we’ll get there. For now, we’re back with Antiope who just saw a glimpse of the Ending of Things (aka, Ending) and is freaking out a bit. She tells the others and they all do various checks to see what they can find out.

Ostentatia casts Commune With City and clocks that there is some kind of abjuration shield magic on the government buildings in town, stopping them from being spied on. She also clocks some lingering undead-ish magic and a weird divination effect on Antiope, specifically on the Aguefort logo of her jacket, like someone scryed on her and just got that she had something to do with Aguefort. At this, Penny reminds her that the only true piece of info they gave Ending when they broke her out is that they were from Aguefort.

Sam with a 19 Insight still feels the connection she and Ant have with Ending because of their spells turned against them in the initial encounter. Yelle does a Perception check (27) and once again doesn’t really get bad, dreadful, menacing vibes. But also, she recognizes that she’s chill with a lot of things most people don’t love. 

Antiope reiterates that she texted Charity that she’s interested in the internship so she can learn more info--even better now that they know the buildings are safe from scrying. Yelle remembers Aguefort’s warning about people watching them and Sam asks Zelda if her “weird boyfriend” (“he’s actually really cool”) is friends with the elven oracle. Zelda says yeah, they’re both friends with Adaine, she can ask about any weird divination stuff. Sam makes sure to specify she should look into TK but NOT Ending, no doubt remembering what happened when she tried to do a spell on her. 

It’s been a big day as Zelda says so they all go to the TGIF-esque Slappy McFinnigans to celebrate (which Sam has problems with--the fact that they’re celebrating I mean, but she’s mainly ignored). They’re quickly kicked out because Katja can’t help herself from trying to brush the mane of their centaur server and they reconvene at the more their speed SlamBurger, where a horse can fully destroy a soda machine to absolutely zero reaction.  Zelda says that Ostentatia was right in that they should all do the quest because it doesn’t close any doors and they have the 2 weeks to figure things out. They all seem a bit more on the same page (though Sam is still pretty frosty towards Ant) and start making plans.

Before they leave, Yelle pulls aside Ant and Sam and says hey, first of all, you two are still linked to Ending from before. Second of all, I know y’all are Going Through It right now and you don’t have to talk about it or make up right away but you need to get your heads in the game and you need to know that you’re both loved and still family. 

Penny, Zelda, Katja, and Ostentatia go back to the museum to try and get more information for their quest. Katja goes to the information desk (horse in tow, of course) and just starts asking information about TK. She’s told that she’s one of the museum’s benefactors and has been missing for years, and hey, do you understand that a museum’s info desk is about where the water fountains and exhibits are, not just random information about the world?

Ostentatia bails her out by calling her over so she can do her plan which is just to walk into the back area like she owns the place. Now, Aguefort students do have a certain level of clearance to be back there and she does have her school ID. But instead of explaining that, she tried to use her Earrings of Diamond Charm to charm the employee she runs into which fails. And then she does a pretty good tag-team lie with Katja about how they NEED to pass a class but that doesn’t fly. Then Ostentatia tries flirting which ALSO doesn’t work. Zelda at this point steps in and just headbuts the dude so they can book it away. I personally would have gone with, “Do you know who we are? We killed the dragon that’s your current main exhibit,” but you know. No backseat adventuring. 

While this is happening, Penny is stealthing like a pro, looking for anything Arcana related. Ostentatia and Katja also did checks (O getting a nat 20) and we’ll go through all their info gathered now. 

Katja basically gets info on TK we kind of already knew. She was a benefactor of the museum. She’s centuries old like Aguefort. She was concerned with consciousness and divinity and specifically how will and divine will manifested, as well as elemental magic.  

Ostentatia gets a lot of info with her Nat 20. She gets a full map to the temple where TK went which is called the Temple of Earth Defiant. The point of the temple is that it’s up in the open air and harsh winds--wind being a symbol of chaos and unpredictability to dwarves--but they still use it as a place to honor their heroes and they rebuild and upkeep it despite the erosion and how hard it is to get there. It’s hallowed from evil and lots of stories about it involve heroes racing there for sanctuary. It was made by dwarves but it’s a pilgrimage site for other primordial beings like goliaths and earth genasi (which is what TK is). There are 3 heroes who have big statues here: Asha Hammerheart (a SUPER dope name I must say), Yvonna of the Sundering Hills , and Kora Ironbrow.

Penny finds that, amongst Kalvaxus’s hoard there were 7 unrecovered artifacts--the Mirrors of the Eidolons (which are the smashed mirrors they found it seems). Eidelons are kind of like the elemental plane version of angels/celestials. They’re primordial (remember Katja saw primordial language on the wall of the dragon cave) and kind of aligned with things like titans and genies. Raw element with no agenda (unlike celestials and demons and such which have a clear alignment which makes up the D&D religious system). It is said by wizards--who look at these things in more of a nuts and bolts way than say clerics who take the fuzzier religions view--that Eidolons are the hands of the gods because gods are beings of spirit--how could they form the physical world. Will of the divine manifested by elemental beings? Sounds right up TK’s alley.

Sam decides she’s desperate enough for information that she calls her mom who she is understandably snippy with. Her mom gives her a contact to talk to when she asks about TK but Sam stonewalls her on show business talk. She tries to play the “mother knows best, you’ll thank me later,” in a kind of Gothel-y way while acting like anything in the past never happened and says Sam is attacking her but when Sam accuses her of neglect, she proves her right by hanging up the phone.

Sam then calls the number and it turns out to be Lola Embers (Fig’s agent) who has been waiting for Sam’s call for ages and wants to talk to her, even though she’s currently chasing her dog across the park. She says she met TK once at a genasi woman networking thing and also says she once saw Charity get into an argument with TK over government funding or not getting a grant or something similar. She then says she’s in a lake trying to get her dog and Sam, being a water genasi who can breathe underwater and also a fundamentally good person even though she’s currently being aggro as hell, goes to the park to help her. Lola assures her that if she’s ready, she’ll help her get new acting gigs and that the world is ready for the new her. 

Yelle meanwhile casts Speak With Plants on some trees near TK’s office and, after a super stoner to stoner conversation, gets a magical footprint trail of where she ran off to when she absconded 12 years ago. 

Antiope (who is in a sports bra because she destroyed her top with the Aguefort logo since that’s what was pinged, revealing in a wild, nat-1 fueled retcon that she got a tramp stamp reading “Leader” in the Red Waste) goes to see Charity to fill out some paperwork, ingratiate herself, and perhaps get some info. Charity has her hot, young, assistant (who Antiope is instantly crushing on) give Ant his shirt (and Charity’s lack of surprise at seeing his 4 horses pulling a chariot tattoo makes the group think they’re def banging). She kind of explains what the Ministry does and Antiope boils it down a bit to snitching on other adventurers. Charity says it’s more of a who watches the watchmen situation and visibly twitches when she has to say the word “snitch”. 

When she takes a second to call Antiope’s dad, she accidentally leaves a tab open on her computer which has TK’s file open (probably up from when the Maidens asked about her earlier). Antiope sneaks a peek and learns that the artifact that TK stole is called the Legendarium Extrodia and it tracks quests. It seems that at some point TK must have had top level access to get her hands on it. It also shows that TK was marked for assassination (which seems like a pretty good reason to get the heck out of dodge). Brennan also says she’s learned enough that she can use the L.E. if she finds it. 

At this point, Yelle tells everyone to come back ASAP so they can follow the magic footsteps. Antiope wants to come but doesn’t want to burn bridges with Charity (or chances with Preston--equally important) so she, at Katja’s suggestion--pretends to have diarrhea and is Nat 20 convincing. Interesting choice for the end of the first meeting with a person you’re crushing on. But Preston is actually pretty supportive as she races out the door as fast as possible.

The Seven follow the footsteps out of Solace and it becomes clear that TK was headed to the dwarven temple Ostentatia learned about. This is a multi-day journey so Cinnamon sings a glorious, magical, horse song and summons mounts for everyone which I will now name because this is obviously the most important part of the episode:

Snowfire - Danielle

Taffodill - Sam

Alagonia - Antiope

Candyheart - Penny

Starforge - Ostentatia 

Strawberry Dancer - Zelda 

Crucial info. 

As they travel, Antiope casts Primeval Awareness and gets that there is something ancient in the mountain. They travel through Pilgrim’s Pass (a village area most travelers to the temple pass through) but find it completely razed to the ground. They investigate. 

With an 18 Survival check, Antiope finds tracks that seem halfway between dog and cat. There are more than 4 legs and it’s hard to tell how old they are because there’s not a lot of rain in the area. They could have been left long ago and been undisturbed. Regardless, these are clearly from monstrosities. On a 26 History Check, Katja knows that this area used to be protected by Blink Dogs (teleporting dogs) but they seem to be all gone now. On a 22 Nature check, Yelle sees a weird feather made out of plant material. It seems like fae stuff but bad vibes. On an 18 Insight check, Sam knows this was a purposeful slaughter.

And on Penny’s 30 Arcana check, oh boy. Penny finds broken common scrawled on the wall in human blood talking about a queen of the mountain who rules the skies. That only the queen may see and none may see themselves. And that the people were told to destroy the seeing glass and did not obey. In from of that message is a bear hide covering something magic. Penny lifts it with reckless abandon and sees tons of mirror shards.

Friendship bracelets! She thinks.

Gotcha bitch, the thing in the mirror says.

Uh-oh.   

Penny calls over her friends to let them knows she may have made a tiny mistake. The group is pretty split between, “Understandable,” and “Girl, WHAT?” In her defense, she did try to cast Friends on the person on the other side of the mirror shards but that’s not enough to stop an entire pack of 50-60 Displacer Beast (magic tentacle cats)/Blink Dog hybrid monstrosities along with the Harpy Queen (voice from the mirror) and her plant feathered harpy minions to start rapidly making their way to their location. 

It is at this point that Ostentatia remembers that abominations and monstrosities cannot step into the temple which means it’s time to RUN. 

And NOW it’s combat time. 

The premise of this fight is that the girls are on their horses, moving towards the center of the temple as fast as they can while fending off the closest enemies. I won’t give an exact play by play but the two highlights are as follows:

Yelle conjures up a bunch of geese with raptor stats (...so normal geese) to swarm the head cat/dog abomination and has to do a truly stunning amount of math for which she is rewarded with SEVENTY POINTS OF DAMAGE. 

Antiope does some insane arrow trickery and gets the Queen Harpy in the wing (which Ostentatia helpfully gets on video so she can show Preston later) and then forces her to take damage as she falls. If not for an extremely lucky Box of Doom nat 20, she may have been down for the count. Antiope still comes away with more than FIFTY points of damage on her though. 

And we end the episode mid-combat! We will catch up on our girls next time!

Superlatives 

Penny: Most Likely to Make Friends During a Hostage Situation 

As a companion to Danielle’s superlative last episode, Penny gets this award for reading or misreading every situation as an opportunity to make friends or make friendship bracelets for the ones she already has. 

Random Thoughts

Did you guys notice that with Katja having Cinnamon and Charity’s assistant being Preston, that’s two of the main pet NPCs from A Crown of Candy?

Antiope’s Reaction to Yelle Saying That Maybe Things Ending Isn’t So Bad: Rail against the dying of the light! Why are you OK with this?

Penny’s Reaction to Yelle Saying That Maybe Things Ending Isn’t So Bad: Entropy is TERRIBLE! Everything needs order!

The greasy cashier’s response to Ostentatia’s flirty, “Come here often?” is “To my job? Honestly no.” Brennan? Chef’s kiss. 

My other fave line this episode is from Sam. “I believe Cinnamon fucks.”

It’s very cute that Penny is like, “I gotta text Riz about this Eidelon stuff!” Not because she wants help. Just so they can geek out together. 

The joke that Brennan didn’t think about the birds is so funny considering all the bird facts in Misfits.

Also re Birds attacking: “They made a movie about this Brennan!” 

Good on Ant for refusing an Aguefort sweatshirt from Charity when offered after the little scrying incident before. Remembering things like this saves lives. 

It has been brought up several times that Ending isn’t necessarily Bad just Ancient and Powerful and I trust Yelle’s vibe check but also, like, a forest fire doesn’t have malice behind it but it can still devastate a city while it clears out dead trees that need to be cleared, you know? Not ready to start wild speculation yet but I am curious. And am similarly curious about the sisters Ending has mentioned. Oh and the parallels of 7 Maidens, 7 mirrors. It’s all there, we just need a little more info. 

Honestly, get you a man who will see you rushing out of a building, loudly claiming to have diarrhea, and instead of being grosses out will just supportively confess his own stomach issues. I wish he was just a little younger cause I want that for Ant. 

I do like that D20 has been playing a little more fast and loose with the RP ep/combat ep format. I think it really helps with story flow. 

In this episode Antiope and Brennan as various non-Zelda NPCs rolled 2 Nat 20s. O rolled one. Ant rolled 1 Nat 1--which was on a self imposed roll to see how she responded to Sephie’s tramp stamp improv. And O may have rolled one for initiative also but I wasn’t sure. 

[script-nef]

#bokutoisblessed | Bokuto Koutarou

Category: crack, fluff

2.2k words; MSBY fans dying over Bokuto and his family

Bokuto uploaded another photo

It seems like just yesterday little Hana was swaddled in his arms and now look at her. Like. Holy [censored] look at the [censored] post. 

Dudes like. She can walk now. Her steps are so wobbly but also so cute and my heart like????? Just exploded when we were gifted with the sight of her??? AND THE WAY SHE GIGGLED WHEN SHE ARRIVED AT HER MUM’S LAP A SAFJAKFDL I CAN’T BREATHE

Comments [Anon]: Honestly we the fans of Black Jackals are so blessed because we get to experience this joy and bundle of life thanks to our lord and saviour Bokuto Koutarou and his amazing wife, who will hereby be named Kami-sama. Because God is a woman I called it.

[Anon]: I agree with 97% of this, except for the Kami-sama part. She said it’s uncomfortable and embarrassing so we have to call her something else. How about Wife-sama. That should be fine, right?

[Anon]: Oh I saw that post Bokuto put up! Saying how much he’s thankful for the support but not to call her that! The upload was a short video of her turning red after he called her Kami-sama and it’s a treasure I will keep for the rest of my life. And into the afterlife. Death can try to pull it out of my cold, dead hand but I won’t let it. YOU HEAR ME DEATH???? YOU CAN’T TAKE THIS FROM MEEEEEE

[Anon]: Bokuto said Wife-sama is fine! Apparently she was still red and it was the cutest thing ever. Bokuto is so biased (*cough cough* whipped *cough cough*) but hey I’m not complaining. I don’t think my imagination will ever come close to the actual reaction but I hope it does.

[Anon]: Do you guys remember, when he just started dating her, how he flooded us with posts of her and her only? Like, practically 95% of my feed was her since he was putting so much of them up. She could literally be doing nothing and he’ll be like “HOLY [censored] LOOK AT MY GIRLFRIEND!!!” Without swearing because he doesn’t do that, but still.

[Anon]: OH AND THEN HE GOT INTO TROUBLE WITH HIS SOCIAL MEDIA MANAGER ASKJDSKDJF THAT WAS GOLD

[Anon]: THEY LITERALLY PUT A VIDEO UP OF THEM TRYING TO TELL BOKUTO WHY HE SHOULDN’T DO THAT AND HE CONSTANTLY SAID “BUT I’M DATING HER AND THIS IS MY WAY OF SAYING I LOVE HER!!” LIKE BOI WE GET IT EVEN ALIENS WILL GET IT

[Anon]: And it started up again when she was pregnant with Hana. Like I could make a time-lapse video or whatever of her pregnancy just from the photos he put up

[Anon]: I honestly wonder how many photos he has of her and Hana

[Anon]: Probably a couple thousand. I mean like, I have a couple thousand of MBSY members but my love for them pales in front of Bokuto for Wife-sama, so.

→ Continue thread

Holy [censored] I just met Bokuto

Okay so there was news about a new resident coming into our apartment, more specifically my neighbouring unit. It was previously occupied by this really old couple and we had this small farewell party. They dropped hints that the new residents might be kind of loud but that they were great.

A few days later, my doorbell rings and who do I see? It’s [censored] Bokuto. Like, straight up. In his casual clothes. Exactly the same as the photo on his Insta page where he said he was moving. Which I liked practically a few hours ago.

He was standing there with the biggest smile and saying that he’s the new resident and that they’re giving out homemade cookies because of the baby and Bokuto’s volume. And invited me to a small dinner. And I’m. Like my brain. Literally. Like my brain is even blank now. Bokuto. Invited me. To his house. So I could have dinner. And see his wife. And little Hana. 

So I am here now, raiding my wardrobe to see if I have anything wearable because HOLY [censored] [censored] [censored] I’M GOING TO HAVE DINNER WITH BOKUTO AND HIS FAMILY I’LL REPORT BACK LATER IF HE’S FINE WITH ME SHARING THIS EXPERIENCE OKAY I REALLY GOTTA GO BECAUSE MY HEART IS BEATING WAY TOO FAST AND I NEED TO HAVE SOME MEDICINE

[Edit]: This was riddled with spelling mistakes because my hands were shaking from the aftershock.

Comments [Anon]: ???? What did you do in your past life to be awarded the opportunity of being neighbours with Bokuto???? Did you like, save the country or something? Is that what it takes to be blessed with him?

[Anon]: No you gotta at least save the entire Earth for this damn dude thanks for your service I guess

[Anon]: But if you gotta save the world to be neighbours with Bokuto, then what the hell did Wife-sama do to be married to him?

[Anon]: She saved the universe

[Anon]: But I think Bokuto will be the one to say he saved the universe to be with her that cheesy dork ugh I love you

[Anon]: LMAO I CAN HEAR HIM SCREAMING THAT

[Anon]: Are you back yet? Are you alive? Are you blinded by the magnificence that is Bokuto Koutarou and his family? I know I would be. So in order to kill me as well, TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED YOU CAN’T KEEP US OUT LIKE THIS I AM KNEELING ON THE FLOOR AND BEGGING FOR THE INTERACTION PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I BEG OF THEE I WANT SOME MORE SIR

[OP]: That’s really weird so stop that. I’m just about to go out now! I’ll spend the dinner over there, experience heaven, hope I don’t die of heart failure and possibly come back with a war story. If they allow me. Wish me luck guys.

[Anon]: GO BRAVELY SOLDIER AND MAKE US PROUD I AM PRAYING THAT THEY’LL BE KIND ENOUGH TO LET YOU SHARE THIS WONDERFUL EXPERIENCE

I’M BACK

Okay so that could only be described as one of the best moments in my entire life. Don’t worry, they said it’s fine if I share this. #actualsaints

So I finally found an outfit and took the chocolate that I was saving for myself, but since I can give my arm and leg for Bokuto what the [censored] is a chocolate, right?

I’m greeted by Wife-sama herself. Like. Less than a metre from me, saying “good afternoon” and smiling like the saint of tranquillity. (A side note but how do you have that when you live with Bokuto? And a child? My brother wants to know your secrets.) And she’s wearing what I think is Bokuto’s shirt since it’s way too big for her, I mean the end comes to her thighs. Sharing shirts is the most romantic thing a couple can do I don’t make the rules I’m just the messenger.

Anyway she invites me into their house, their amazingly aesthetical and cozy house. There’s a display case for all of Bokuto’s trophies, awards, certificates and everything. There are photographs of them together all over the walls, hung from strings spanning the entire house. There was a wall section dedicated entirely to Hana-chan. I felt like an uncivilised cave gremlin there.

Wife-sama was still making dinner and I was going to help her but little Hana-chan came to me. Like, she tottered over to me in the blue frilly dresses and tugged on my pants, babbling and smiling. Y’all I nearly died. I literally saw the gates of heaven and had a foot in but Wife-sama saved me by pulling me back into reality. By asking me if I wanted to play with Hana-chan. Which killed me again. And she was apologetic about it too? Like she doesn’t think I would give my kidney to spend time with her?

So I was playing with Hana but sneakily looking at the two of them being cute as hell in the kitchen. Bokuto was attached to her at the hip for the whole time except for when she asked him to get some ingredients. He was a puppy incarnate. They were sneaking kisses, whispering to each other and it was honestly so cute like I was getting diabetes just from one night. 

The food was amazing, the dinner talk was so fun and delightful, Hana-chan was the cutest little angel ever, this was probably the best day of my life. AND WHEN I LEFT FOR THE NIGHT, THEY BOTH HUGGED ME AND IT WAS LIKE BEING HUGGED BY CLOUDS BUT THEY SMELLED SO NICE!!

I shall never forget this day. Mark my words y’all.

Comments [Anon]: How beautiful was their place? I feel like she would go with a pastel tone or black and white. And have cute things littered around everywhere.

[OP]: The house was really unique in the sense that it felt like two houses smashed together. Like they took turns decorating each section of the house. Looked like polar opposites. It was kind of weird at first but the aesthetics flowed well the longer I stayed there, if you can understand what I’m saying.

[Anon]: The fact that Bokuto and Wife-sama are practically opposites in many things but still formed a romantic relationship with each other and the fact that their taste or preferences complement each other perfectly is proof that they are soulmates. In this essay I will

[Anon]: Where’s the essay. Dude where’s the [censored] essay

[Anon]: HEY MAN COME BACK WHERE’S MY ESSAY

[Anon]: NOOOOOOOOOOO THE SACRED TEXTS

[Anon]: Bruh just a kidney? Take my [censored] liver. Take my heart. Oh no wait, she already has it in her squishy widdle hands.

[Anon]: I bid my left arm

[Anon]: Right arm

[Anon]: Lungs

[Anon]: I really love my brain but I barely use it so off it goes I guess

[OP]: ???? Guys? What are you doing? Stop this illegal organ trade in my post.

[Anon]: Shhhhh we’re showing our love

I saw Bokuto shopping and it was so cute

I do not do clickbait, it was genuinely adorable and my cheeks are about to fall off. As was everyone else’s in the entire mall.

I was just doing some shopping, getting some snacks and popcorn for the movie marathon I was going to have and who do I hear? Yeah, it’s Bokuto. And little Hana-chan whining to Wife-sama about how she’s not getting the snacks they want. It’s from memory since I didn’t take a video, I’m not a creep and I understand boundaries unlike some of you assholes, but it went something like this.

Bokuto: But think of all the caramel popcorn we could eat! Hana: Mama, sweeties. Sweeties. (What an angel, am I right?) Wife-sama: I already said no, it’s going to ruin your dinner. Hana: But it’s tasty! Bokuto: Pleaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaase? I’ll do all of the dishes and cleaning today! Wife-sama: You already do that every day, Kou. It’s not much of a bribe. (Husband goals) And Hana, we have other snacks at home. Caramel is bad for your teeth. Bokuto: But babe! Wife-sama: I said no, and that’s it. Hana: Mama!

It was just this repeated for like 10 minutes with Bokuto and Hana-chan alternating their whines. I would have snapped after 5 times but wow, this lady has the mental fortitude of Fort Knox.

They both sulked and followed her around as she finished her shopping. I can tell Hana is Bokuto’s daughter because her hair droops down like his and a cloud forms over her head. It was practically magic.

In the end, they bought one (1) salted caramel popcorn because Wife-sama is too soft-hearted and they literally clung onto her for 5 minutes peppering her with kisses. And Bokuto actually lifted her in his embrace. In the middle of the sweets section. Where everyone was looking.

Needless to say, she was very very red.

Comments [Anon]: Conspiracy theory: factoring in Bokuto’s godlike physical ability, inhumane and endless sunny disposition, his hair’s ability to reflect his moods, it can be concluded that Bokuto is, in fact, a God.

[Anon]: Well someone has a big brain

[Anon]: Wait then Wife-sama would be a Goddess. Gasp SHE DIDN’T WANT PEOPLE CALLING HER KAMI-SAMA BECAUSE IT WOULD BLOW HER COVER

[Anon]: Oh yeah, it’s all coming together

[Anon]: I can kind of see Bokuto and Hana sneaking in sweets and snacks into the trolley while Wife-sama isn’t looking lmao

[OP]: THEY ACTUALLY DID THAT I nearly ran into them again and heard her berating Bokuto for sneaking in chocolate and shoving it beneath all the meat so she wouldn’t notice. My man, please. You can never outsmart your wife.

[Anon]: Next time I go to the MSBY fan meeting, I’m bringing all the sweets I can for Bokuto and Hana. It’s the least I can do.

[Anon]: They’re so cute and I can’t wait for the MSBY match in three days where Bokuto’s family is going to attend. I promise I’ll post about it afterwards.