#im going to email the upper management anyway

[paranoidkid]

just got fired from a job I really liked because “it just wasn’t clicking” (their exact words). AMA.

[schizononagesimus]

i am having the worst time and also the best time i am so . Confused . upper management tried to fire me but my manager outright told them no. apparently im not giving 100% even though i literally am but im too good with customers to let go and also im being nepotismed in anyway lol. applied to some other jobs that might hit, both also nepotismy lol. so i have a job still but im chucking all my money into savings to prepare for the worst even though my boss said itll be fine. j is also officially my partner!! and i also had the most wildly transphobic experience with a journal i was supposed to be published in but several scathing emails were sent and everyone thinks it's hilarious. so basically im still going through it i guess and the apartment search is once again on hold so i would like for die but at least i get to see my partner all the time and i have a new friend group now!! we have a group chat and everything... getting back on my feet and also landing on my ass in the process.

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Two

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: im so sorry i know i need to start editing these

***

Nesta stands in her guest room at Cassian’s cabin, hands on her hips as she eyes the garbage bags full of things she managed to salvage from her old apartment. 

All of her rain-soaked clothes sit in two huge bags, waiting to go through the laundry, while her books are carefully spread out on the windowsill, floor, and anywhere they can catch enough sunlight to dry their pages. Nesta almost cried when she saw that Lorene had salvaged her few adult coloring books and the art supplies to go with them, still dry. 

For a brief moment, she’s glad she didn’t buy any physical copies of her textbooks this year— the loss of that money would be too much to bear.

A brief knock sounds at her door, and Nesta spins to find Cassian standing there, laundry basket in hand. “I can take your clothes down for you if you want,” he offers, lifting his own basket with a hand. 

Nesta’s lips tighten. He wants to do her laundry with his. Their laundry will get cleaned together. Her underwear will get tangled up with his. 

Cassian’s brow furrows. “Nesta?”

This is her new reality now. She’ll have to accept it at one point or another. 

“We can do separate loads if you want,” Cassian adds. “Feyre told me you— well, she said you might be more uncomfortable with some things than others. It’s totally fine if you don’t want your clothes mixing—”

“No.” Nesta finally snaps out of it. “I don’t care about the laundry. My clothes are right here.”

 Because she has a sneaking suspicion she might be being unintentionally bitchy again, Nesta helps Cassian drag her bags of drenched clothes downstairs. 

“I feel sort of bad for bullying you into this deal,” Cassian rambles as he dumps clothes into the washer. “Which is why I need you to know you can enforce whatever rules and boundaries you want while you’re here. If you’d prefer I never speak to you for the rest of your time here, I can manage that, too.”

Nesta looks at him with a hint of disbelief. Sometimes he says the oddest things. “I don’t want you to never speak to me again.”

There’s relief in his sagging shoulders. “That’s good,” he says as he pours out detergent. “I mean, I was a little worried you were against this so much because you hated me, but you don’t know me enough to hate me, do you?”

Hate. Nesta rolls the word over her tongue, tastes the hard corners of it, and decides it doesn’t fit for Cassian. Not even close. She wonders how to articulate this to Cassian.

She settles on: “You seem nice enough. Obviously, since you’re letting me live in your luxury mountain cabin for free. But I don’t want to set any boundaries while I’m here. You shouldn’t have to change your normal lifestyle just for a guest. Do whatever you want; it’s your place.”

Cassian presses a button and the rumble of the washing machine begins. “I want you to be comfortable,” he says, turning to face her completely. “Whatever you need, Nesta, seriously.”

For starters, it would make Nesta comfortable if he didn’t say her name like that. His earnestness makes her skin itch, but she’s not going to tell him that. 

Instead, she bravely lifts her chin. “I’ve been pushed so far out of my comfort zone that I don’t think I know how to find my way back.” The honest truth. “At this point, you might as well keep me out here.”

Cassian’s eyes narrow. “If you don’t tell me what things bother you, I’ll have to find them out for myself, you know.” It sounds like a challenge.

“Go ahead,” Nesta deadpans. She doesn’t know what Feyre’s told him about her, but contrary to popular belief, Nesta isn’t a glass doll. Sensitive, high maintenance, yes, but fragile? Never.

She turns on her heel and leaves Cassian in the laundry room, determined not to let her circumstances get the better of her while she stays here.

***

Cassian takes everything back. He’s obsessed. 

He can’t pinpoint the exact moment, how or when or why he decided he likes Nesta. Maybe it was an amalgamation of different things, but by the time she settles onto his living room couch with a box of takeout Thai food, it’s safe to say he’s fascinated.

She’s nothing like how Feyre talks about her. She’s barely anything like the woman he met at the dinner party two years ago. The problem is, Cassian hasn’t pinpointed what she’s like. There’s still too many walls in place, but here, as she slurps noodles unabashedly while watching TV with an intense fixation, she’s softer than he’s ever seen her. Maybe it’s because she doesn’t feel the need to defend herself to a sitcom; there’s no self-consciousness, only a deep focus on the Community episode they’re currently watching.

Cassian splits his focus between offering commentary in an attempt to make Nesta laugh and observing her reactions from the corner of his eyes. A few things he’s noticed so far: 1) Her cheeks bulge like a squirrel’s when they’re full of food; she seems to have no shame about this. 2) She isn’t inclined to respond to Cassian when he makes comments on the show, but the corners of her mouth tilting up imply that she likes it anyway. 3) She watches sitcoms like she’s studying for a final exam about them. 

When the episode finally ends, she turns to him and glances at his hands. “Are you going to eat that?” she says. 

Cassian glances down at his untouched container of food, a little surprised, but hands it over to her without a fight. He can’t pretend it doesn’t do something to him to see her eyes light up over something as simple as curry and rice. 

Nesta’s poking her chopsticks around the box when she notices Cassian watching. “What?” she says, immediately on the defensive.

“You eat funny,” he admits. Her brows furrow so deeply he thinks they might create a permanent indentation. He’s quick to add, “It’s adorable. Seriously.” It isn’t something he would have said yesterday, but he’s taking Nesta’s words from the laundry room to heart. He won’t put a damper on his personality as long as she can handle it. 

Her hand comes up to self-consciously touch her cheek, but she quickly drops it. “Play the next episode,” she says as she picks up her chopsticks again, and that’s the end of that.

***

Cassian wastes no time coming up with ways to push Nesta out of her comfort zone, just as he promised. The next morning, he greets her downstairs in nothing but a pair of sweatpants. Nesta takes a long, slow blink at his bare torso, muscled arms, and brown skin, and turns around to get started on making breakfast. It’s not good enough— he catches a glimpse of her reddened cheeks when she reaches for the milk container anyway.

It’s only until they’re both settled in the living room after dinner that he realizes he doesn’t have the upper hand he thought he did. 

Nesta is stretched out on her stomach on the Persian rug in an oversized tee and nothing else. Her bare legs swing in the air behind her, and she’s listening to music and coloring. 

Cassian’s unanswered emails sit abandoned on the phone in his lap. He truly can’t stop staring; there’s just too much to absorb.

For starters, she wears glasses. Big, round, gold-rimmed glasses that are almost slipping off her nose at the moment. That revelation alone is so affecting that he has to quickly move on to other, smaller details. Like the sound of her uncapping different markers and filling in smooth lines on the page before her. Cassian feels a desperate desire to see what she’s coloring. Her hair is up in a ponytail, and her legs…

Cassian can’t say that ever since he first took notice of the beauty mark at the corner of Nesta’s lush mouth that he hasn’t wondered where else on her body she might be hiding little moles and freckles. He just never expected to get an answer so soon. Because right there, where her shirt rumples up to reveal her bare thigh, is the smallest dark spot. 

He wants to put his mouth on it. 

His own thoughts take him by surprise, and he realizes he’s gripping his phone so hard the screen might crack. 

He uncurls his fingers from the phone and squeezes his eyes shut against the wave of desire crashing into him. Desire and something else, something achingly fond and frustrated at the same time.

“Cassian?” The sound of his name has his eyes snapping open. Nesta’s watching him, brow furrowed. “Are you feeling okay?” she asks.

He feels stupid for trying to play this push-and-pull game with Nesta, because it’s barely even started and he’s already losing. “I’m gonna go put a shirt on,” he mutters, moving to get up.

Nesta’s lips turn down a little. “And ruin the view?” She says it completely seriously, not a hint of slyness to her words.

Cassian’s ass falls back into his seat in pure surprise. His eyes widen. “Was that a joke?” Did Nesta Archeron just make a joke?

Her frown turns deeper. “I don’t think so. Was it funny?”

“It was teasing.”

“Then it wasn’t a joke.” She shrugs and returns back to her coloring. “If you put a shirt on, I’m putting my pants on,” she says without looking up. 

Cassian has absolutely no idea what he’s gotten himself into. But he doesn’t move from the couch for the rest of the evening. 

***

By the end of the weekend, Nesta has gotten the hang of being around Cassian. There are several occasions in those first couple of days— slips of the tongue, really— where she pauses in trepidation, worried she’s said or done too much. She is always doing too much. But then Cassian grins, or laughs, or as of more often lately, teases her right back, and her muscles can relax again. 

He has also relaxed around her. Nesta knows that quiet front he put up when they first met was partly for her benefit, because the more comfortable they become with each other, the more he reminds her of the Cassian Feyre’s always talking about. And yet, the person he is with her is nothing like the person she’s seen hanging around Feyre’s inner circle. This person doesn’t make her feel excluded or ignored. It’s the exact opposite— she hasn’t been on the receiving end of this much male attention since Tomas. 

And as much as it surprises her to like it so much, she’s not in the mood for his particular brand of teasing at seven in the morning on a Monday. 

She stumbles into the kitchen fully dressed and more than a bit disgruntled, needing the strongest cup of coffee available to get through her morning classes today. Cassian is already sitting at the island with his laptop, and raises his brows to see her up this early. He dares to smile at her before the sun is even fully up. “Glad to see you woke up ready to play, Nesta.” 

Nesta almost throws her empty mug at his head. “Don’t talk to me,” she says, thumping her mug down beside the coffeemaker. 

Taunting becomes questioning as he eyes her outfit. “You have somewhere to be at this hour?”

“I’m a law student,” she grumbles, punching buttons on the coffeemaker. “I have morning classes three days a week.” It’s unacceptable, but it isn’t the worst thing she’ll go through as she tries to get her J.D.

Cassian sits up straight at that. “Who’s taking you to class?” Her car is still in for repairs, and she has yet to rent one to make up for it.

“I’m Ubering,” she tosses over her shoulder.

“That’s ridiculous,” Cassian says. “I’ll drive you.”

Nesta spins around at that. “No way in hell.” She throws whatever bite she has into her refusal. 

Cassian is unfazed. “It’s on my way to work.”

“You work from home.” He’s not even dressed.

“Then today is the day I’ll make a stop at corporate headquarters. My subordinates get to see my pretty face for once, you get to go to class, and we all win.” He grins, and in this moment Nesta truly hates his grin. It lights up his whole face in a way that should be illegal. He’s probably robbed banks with that grin. 

Nesta doesn’t have the brain capacity to argue with him. She doesn’t even feel like criticizing the fact that at twenty-seven, Cassian runs the entire security division of Night Court Inc. thanks to the help of the CEO, also known as his adoptive brother.

She’s never met anyone who makes nepotism look so good.

Grabbing her steaming coffee mug and taking a deep sip, unflinching at the feeling of her tastebuds being burned away, she meets Cassian’s expectant gaze. “Get dressed.”

***

When Cassian texts to ask her when she’s getting out of class, she doesn’t expect him to actually show up outside the law building with drinks and a paper bag of food. She has to stop and glance around for a moment, as if he could possibly be here for somebody else. 

Approaching him cautiously, Nesta takes the cup holder from his hand and inspects the contents. A green tea and a rainbow-colored slushie. She looks back up at Cassian, and he smiles. “Shall we?”

They end up settling under the shade of an oak tree on the lawn outside where her Principles of International Law class is held. “So how was your day?” Cassian asks as he bites into a burrito. 

Nesta can’t remember the last time someone asked her that and sounded genuine about it, and she almost doesn't know how to answer. “It's noon,” she says.

“Fine. How was your last four hours?”

“Nothing more interesting than yours.” She eyes his outfit at that. She’s never seen Cassian in this manner. Work Cassian wears expensive buttondowns tucked into slacks. Work Cassian must use some kind of fancy product on his hair to make it so flowy, because for the first time ever, he looks exactly like the amount of money he makes. “You look so...adult. I’d almost buy it if you didn't have the taste palate of a five year old.” Nesta sips from her tea.

He actually rolls his eyes at her. “You wish you had what it takes to handle an every-flavor-slushie.” Because that's what he’s drinking, a heart attack in a 32 ounce cup. 

“That's bait, and I’m not falling for it,” Nesta says through a mouthful of burrito. 

“You don't need to.” He offers the drink out to her. “Try it.” 

Nesta stares at the cup, chewing slowly. Usually the thought of sharing a straw with someone would disgust her, but— 

She just wants to know how it tastes. Swallowing quickly, she grabs the drink. “Whatever,” she mutters, and wraps her lips around the red straw. 

Cassian watches intently as she takes a deep pull. Ten different flavors hit her tongue at once, and she thinks her brain spasms. She's too tough to make a face, and swallows the slushie like it's nothing.

“You like?” Cassian looks hopeful.

Nesta slams the cup down. “It’s disgusting. My point was proven.”

He laughs. “Weak.”

More easy moments pass like this before he says, “I wish you came around Feyre’s more often. I could have gotten to know you earlier.”

Nesta stills, food halfway to her mouth. “What do you mean?”

Cassian shrugs. “It just seems odd that we’ve talked more in the last three days than in the last three years I’ve known of you. Why don’t you hang out with Feyre like Elain does?”

She stiffens, and considers whether the conversation is even worth continuing. “Feyre’s always with you guys,” she chooses her words carefully. “There’s rarely time left for me.”

She waits for Cassian to tell her that sharing exists, and that she’s allowed to be at Feyre’s place with Feyre’s friends at the same time, but he just watches her patiently. Waiting for her to go on. 

“Besides, I used to come over all the time before my sister moved to Velaris. You were there, too.”

“I was?” That gets his attention; he drops his food and turns to face her fully. “What are you talking about?”

Nesta nods, but an odd, old feeling is bubbling up in her chest. It tastes hard and a little sad. “I doubt you noticed, but I was there. In the background while you guys got drunk or laughed together.”

He huffs an odd sort of laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous. I would have noticed you from a hundred foot radius from Feyre’s apartment. We’ve only seen each other twice before this weekend.”

Nesta is caught between disbelief and disappointment, but she hides it well with a scoff. “We’ve only spoken to each other twice, idiot. I’ve seen you plenty of times.”

Cassian looks like she just came up to him with scientific evidence that the sky is green and grass is blue, and he can’t wrap his mind around it. “That just doesn’t make sense,” he says.

Nesta raises a brow. “Are you implying I’m lying?”

He shakes his head quickly. “No, but— it’s like you’re saying I failed to notice a fucking lion in the room every time I didn’t see you. It’s just not something someone fails to notice. It’s impossible not to notice!” He throws his hands up.

You’re impossible not to notice. Nesta has no idea what to make of that, or whether she should be insulted or not. He didn’t say it with the same backhanded tone as so many of the people she knew in high school, but it didn’t sound like high praise, either. On the other hand, the words are so ironic they’re almost funny.

She settles for a shrug and begins sweeping up her napkins and trash. “Well, it isn’t impossible for a lot of people.” The look she throws him says clear enough, Including you.

He works his jaw, seeming upset, but helps Nesta up from the ground anyway. Walks her all the way back to his truck in near-silence and drives them home.

A/N: you’d think the ‘ready to play’ line was a cute reference but i actually just suck at writing banter so i needed to borrow from sarah.

tagging: @ladywitchling @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @sensitiveillyrian @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy

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[gothicmisa]

mikalight :)

hi alex ily im assuming you want. all of them. valid of u. ill be answering as if this was an au where theyre both prosecutors, not kira.1 - who is a morning person and who is a night person?mikami is extremely routine-oriented and wakes up at the same time early every morning. light hates mornings but he does most of his work in the mid-morning/early-afternoon, so not exactly either.2 - who is more romantic?light! light likes big gestures and grandiose displays of affection. he likes the attention. 3 - who goes out of their way to pick something up from the store just to surprise the other with their favorite thing?mikami likes to stop at the grocery store and get light little snacks!! light loves knowing that mikami was thinking abt him.4- who usually cooks?light is the better cook, but i think they cook together on occasion :-)5 - what’s their favorite way to spend time together?mikami and light are both very focused on their work and enjoy being productive. i think they both rlly enjoy just. working in the same room together. they talk a little or ramble about their latest cases while typing up documents or sending emails. they order ubereats and silently wonder if the other person is judging them for their choice of meal (light gets a salad and mikami gets a sandwich)6 - do they celebrate couples’ holidays? (valentines day, sweetest day, christmas in some cultures?)light doesn't like to admit it because he thinks it makes him look frivolous and shallow, but he secretly thinks couples holidays are wonderful. it takes mikami a while to figure out why light looks so disappointed every christmas when he doesn't go all out with some grand romantic gesture, but he does eventually and starts making an effort to get light little gifts. 7 - where did they meet?in university! they met in an upper-level ethics class where there was like. twelve students total. they were in a lot of prereqs together but never noticed each other-- light was too wrapped up in thinking he was too smart for the basic classes and that he should try to test out, mikami was taking extremely intense notes. 8 - who made the first move?light. absolutely. do you think mikami is capable of making a life-changing decision like that? light starts by flirting relentlessly and mikami stays up late at night googling things like "is it flirting when he plays with your hair?" 9 - who does the PDA and who gets embarrassed about it?i dont think either are very fond of pda-- its kind of inappropriate and unsightly in japanese culture to be all over your significant other in public. however, i do think light occasionally pats mikami on the butt. 10 - do they have pets?hmm. maybe if they moved in together they'd get a cat! i just like the idea of light having a cat ok11 - if they fight, what do they argue about?they share a lot of opinions on politics, ethics, and morality, but i think they butt heads pretty frequently. they both can be confrontational at times, what with mikami's unwavering opinions and light's tendency to think he can do no wrong. light polices mikami's tone on occasion. light gets prickly when mikami doesn't respond to him exactly the way light Thinks he should. mikami usually won't start a fight, but he can get frustrated with light when light wants to disrupt his routine in favor of doing some spontaneous activity.12 - who kills the bugs?light refuses to. mikami gently captures them and puts them outside. its inhumane to kill them! 13 - who steals all of the blankets at night?light. they actually have two different blankets on their shared bed now, which is for the best, anyway-- light prefers a thick comforter and mikami likes a thinner blanket.14 - who is cranky before their morning coffee?mikami is used to getting up at a certain time and he likes it that way, so he doesn't get cranky in the mornings. light tends to be a little more random with his sleep schedule (staying up late to finish his paperwork, researching specific cases for references at one in the morning, etc) and gets less sleep because of it. he's very cranky in the mornings. 15 - who is the gay who drives?they can both drive.16 - who gets jealous?light is a very jealous person. he gets very passive aggressive at times, which goes completely over mikami's head. 17 - who is the most patient?mikami. light likes to do the Most to hurry things along because he hates wasting his time. 18 - does one of them do most of the housework, or do they share the responsibilities?mikami does a lot of the cleaning, but they're both pretty organized people, so it isn't a lot. for some things, they split the chores-- if light cooks, mikami washes the dishes after, etc.19 - who is more uptight?mikami... 20 - who says “i love you” first?light says i love you first and mikami gets so flustered he says "thank you?"21 - who argues with the manager?light demands that his salad at the restaurant is free because he asked for reduced fat shredded cheese and they gave him regular cheddar. 22 - how does the other one respond while the first one argues with the manager?mikami just folds his hands and waits for light to be done before tipping the waiter generously for being so gracious throughout light's temper tantrum.23 - which one has improper knife safety and which one drives the other to the hospital?i don't think this applies to either of them, sorry!24 - what pizza toppings do each get and are they able to compromise?i love this question because i had to google "popular pizza toppings in japan" and was met with very exciting results. mikami is pretty tame when it comes to his pizza-- he prefers margherita pizza 100%, very simple, healthier than other choices, just slices of mozzarella, only a little bit of sauce, and basil. if they're ordering out, light just splits mikami's pizza with him, but light secretly likes mayonnaise, white corn, and grilled shrimp on his pizzas. guilty pleasures. 25 - who takes longer showers?light loves taking obscenely long showers and they're lucky mikami prefers to shower after he goes to the gym, otherwise their shower schedules would clash.26 - who takes the longest to get ready?light. he deliberates over every outfit. he has to look his best.27 - who is the most concerned about their appearance?light cares more on a day-to-day basis, but mikami gets worried about light being embarrassed to be seen with him, so he has a whole selection of outfits and suits just for the days they're going to be out in public together. 28 - how do they take care of each other when they’re sick?neither of them are incredibly doting, but light will go out of his way to pick up some soup for mikami, and mikami will dictate light's business emails as light verbally tells him exactly how to write them even though he called in to work that day.29 - where was their first date?i think the line between dating and not dating was a little blurry for them but it was probably something very low key. a coffee shop or a cafe. 30 - personal random headcanon?light is very amused by mikami. at first it was kind of mean, like, light just being entertained by this weirdo in his ethics class, but eventually light fell head over heels. light still loves to fluster him and finds his odd little habits and routines rather charming. mikami, several years into their relationship, is still shocked that someone like light is interested in him.

[marsupials-of-mars]

It Surfaces on the First Freeze of Winter (Pt 3)

"Yes, I can get the results to you, just give me a moment." Logan sandwiched his phone between his ear and shoulder and reached for his laptop. He opened a new email and attached the Excel spreadsheet full of tediously recorded lab results. He typed up a subject and a brief body and sent it. "I apologize for the wait, this disorganization won't become a habit of mine... yes, I'm suprised as well... no I don't need a sick day." Logan quickly covered the receiver before he sneezed. "Yes... yes I fell into ice water... well thank you for your concern, but it was nobody's mistake but mine... yes ma'am. Thank you ma'am. See you tommorrow, yes. Goodbye." Logan allowed his boss to hang up first. He was relieved that his reputation as a near perfect lab assistant was paying off. He basically had a steel cable safety net with how perfect his record was at that point. He prided himself on his workplace perfection; he and his boss were even working to get him a promotion of some kind. That made it all the more odd that he had forgotten to turn in his data the previous night. Whatever had happened had taken a far greater toll on him then he thought it did, his mind often drifting back to the night's events without his concious effort, making it difficult to focus. He had an urge to go back, to find his attacker and inspect every inch of it, regardless of his schedule or his job or his financial stability. The beast seemed so much more important, no matter what he told himself to the contrary. It felt big, revolutionary, life-changing. He finally gave up. He shut his laptop and grabbed a notebook and writing utensils. He slig them into his work bag and slung it over his shoulder. "Roman! I'm going to work!" Roman's head peeked out through the kitchen doorway. "I thought you didn't have work today? That was the whole reason we went out last night." "I forgot to write it on my schedule I guess." Roman gasped dramatically. "YOU? Forgot to schedule something?! The end must be coming for us all!" Logan rolled his eyes. "Everyone makes mistakes sometimes, simple statistics." "Alright. But take care of yourself, stay hydrated. I'm not gonna let you get sicker after I went through all that trouble pampering you last night." Logan could still almost taste the hot cocoa and chicken chicken noodle soup and feel the blankets wrapped around him from the previous night. "I'll be okay. If it's any consolation, you're in my will. Bedside drawer, you can't miss it." "Shut up!" Logan smiled slightly and pulled on his coat. He grabbed his galoshes and ducked out the door. The drive seemed much longer without Roman, even though they hadn't talked much anyway. Logan gripped the wheel in anticipation. And maybe a hint of guilt for lying to Roman, but he reminded himself of his reasoning. He was a little apprehensive, considering that he was reentering dangerous territory without Roman's extra protection, though he might have been even more scared of the alternative. He tried not to consider that he may have come out for nothing, that he may have to live never finding out what the thing really was. He thought back to Roman's legend, the note that the creature only emerged on the first freeze of winter during a half moon. Logan hoped, considering that that part was a little more ghost-story like, that it was merely dramatization. After all, species weren't nearly that specific. He pulled once again into the empty gravel lot. He checked the temperature. Not freezing, but not warm either. Thirty-eight. He took a breath and gripped the swiss army knife in his coat pocket before stepping out into the chill. The woods looked much different in the day; much less intimidating. Logan plunged into the swamp with little hesitation. It was a bit difficult to locate the scene of his fall considering how dissimilar everything seemed in the light, but after a relatively short amount of time, Logan found it. He dipped his hand into the water and grabbed a piece of hard plastic. He shook out the poor, waterlogged flashlight and tucked it into his pocket. It was of no use to him, but he wasn't one to litter. He looked out intently across the still surface of the water for any disturbance. A few minutes went by. His eyes flicked toward some fresh ripples. Just a twig fallen from a tree overhead. He sighed as he finally began to reflect on what he was doing, how dumb it was, how much time he was wasting. The longer he stood the more stupid he felt. Until he felt something glide across the toes of his boot. He jerked his foot back and reached out for a nearbye tree. He gripped it for stability and retrieved his knife from his pocket. He brandished it down toward the water. Against his better judgement, he forced himself to remain still. Once again, he felt something slide over his foot. It wasn't a tentacle, it was larger, heavier. The body. Logan waited a second longer to be sure. The creature rested its weight against his leg. Logan sucked in a breath. Just as he felt tentacles begin to wrap his foot, he kicked. His leg strained under the weight and his foot was enveloped by boneless flesh, but he managed to throw it off. The beast breached the surface of the water, just long enough for Logan to see a dark green mass of writhing tentacles, before crashing back into the swamp, sending waves tall enough to soak Logan's socks. Logan gripped his blade and plunged his arms in where the creature had fallen. They were met with what he imagined a human corpse would feel like after a month soaked in vinegar. He resisted the urge to let go and wrestled the cephalopod from the water. Before it could slip out of his arms, he strained his back muscles and swung his upper body, effectively granny-tossing the beast into the risen root system of a fallen tree. A chorus of wet flopping sounds accompanied the creature's struggle, similar to one repeatedly lifting spaghetti and dropping it back into a pool of sauce. It soon realized it's helplessness, now tangled uselessly in roots and it's own tentacles, and ceased to thrash. Logan blinked, still reeling from the adrenaline. The cryptid of the Florida swamps. He had it. He hesitantly stepped forward to get a closer look. The creature let out a pitiful noise, a bubbling, growl-type whimper. Logan reached out, and rather than recoiling, the thing reached out as well, matching his approach. Logan retracted his hand, prompting another whine. He inspected the creature: it was primarily a dark grey-green, though it had scalloped patterns of black which grew and shrank, seemingly dependent on it's level of distress. It's eyes were surprisingly human in external shape, though they were a fluorescent green and it's pupils were shaped similar to those of a cuttlefish, in misshapen Ws. Most suprising, though, was that it was vaguely human-shaped, with a similarly proportioned torso and head, though its limbs split off into tentacles. It's beak, which Logan could only assume it had, was hidden under a Cthulu-style beard of tentacles. Overall the creature was abhorrent, in a beautiful sort of way. It was much less terrifying out if water, limp and surprisingly small. While attacking him in the water it had seemed easily larger than Logan, but in reality it was about five feet long at most. It suddenly began to emit some uncomfortable bubbling noises, and before Logan could interfere, it had thrown up a full fish skeleton and a half-digested snake, along with a foamy froth of salt water. "Oh!" Logan once again reached out but stopped himself. He had no plan after this point, a very rare sensation for him. The creature was clearly terrified and couldn't survive long out of water, but if it was returned it could become aggressive. It whined once again, another bit of foam spilling into the water, sending light ripples that lapped at Logan's shins. Logan wracked his brain for anything potentially helpful. He cupped his hands and dipped them into the water, then threw the handful of water at the creature. It hissed at the spray, followed by a long, drawn out rumble in it's throat. It must not have been water it needed. Once again, the creature extended a tentacle toward Logan. It didn't seem aggresive, rather, it was more needy, like a child making grabby hands to be held. A very stupid thought crossed Logan's mind, one that in any other circumstance he would have rejected immediately. But he had nothing better. He bundled the end of his coat sleeve in his fist, allowing no opening. He pocketed his knife and readied his other hand on his zipper. If the creature got ahold of his coat, he could throw it off and escape. He readied himself, and reached his protected hand toward the beast. The cephalopod trilled in what appeared to be joy, and immediately took hold of Logan's arm. Before Logan had the chance to unzip, it had freed itself from the roots and made it's way up his arm, around his shoulders, and squeezed down the back of his coat. Logan froze in shock at the sudden cold sogginess embracing his entire torso. He grabbed a tree with one hand to manage the sudden weight, and with the other, he produced his knife from his pocket. Before he could reach back to defend himself, though, he felt the beast's head nuzzle into his back. It seemed oddly content. Logan blinked and cautiously lowered his knife. If he didn't need to damage the specimen, he supposed he shouldn't. "I won't hurt you if you don't hurt me." Logan found he'd begun speaking to the creature despite himself. It let out a peep, then a series of rumblings. It's tone began to shift, slowly evolving from bubbling to grumbling to vocal outbursts that sounded strangely similar to a human voice. Then something that was hardly expected; "I won't hurt you- -don't hurt me." It wasn't fully human, it was pitched oddly, and sounded vaguely similar to Logan. Like a parrot. Logan's eyes widened and his mind raced. This thing was intelligent. This thing was important. This thing was absolutely incredible. "You talk?! Can you understand?" "-understand?" Logan's astonished breaths billowed out in frozen steam. "Why did you attack me last night? Why aren't you attacking now?" "-aren't- -attacking- -last night?" "You weren't attacking last night? You nearly drowned me. Why?" "Why?" The creature pushed on his back with it's head as if to nudge him on. "You want me to guess? So you can say it?" "-guess?" Logan thought over what had happened. If it wasn't attacking, why would it grab him? Why did it want him now? He shivered. He pulled his coat tighter to block out the cold. The cold... "You're cold blooded, aren't you? You're cold! You need external sources of warmth!" "-warmth!" Logan smiled. Incredible. "If I give you my coat, can I take you off of me?" "-give -coat, can- -take- off-" the creature loosened it's grip. Logan unzipped his coat and pulled it off, making sure it was accessible while not dropping it. The specimen climbed around to the front of his torso and oozed into the garment in his arms. Logan held the thing to his chest. "Do you need water? Most octopuses can survive out of water in moist environments for thirty to sixty minutes but it's rather dry out right now..." "-moist-" "You need water?" "-moist-" "What do you need?" "-moist-" Logan squinted. "Do you just like saying 'moist'?" "-'moist'? -'moist'? -'moist'?" The creature trilled in amusement. It had a sense of humor. Not a very good one at that, but it was another sign of an incredibly advanced organism. Logan waded over to the fallen tree and carefully set the beast down to free his arms. It's posterior tentacles wrapped the trunk for stability while it's anterior tentacles clustered into the coat sleeves. It bundled itself up and nuzzled into the fabric. Logan pulled his notebook from his drybag, sat on a nearbye tree, and began to sketch. He wasn't quite as good as Roman, but he could do structure. He held his pencil up to judge proportion and translated it to the grids of graph paper. His elation grew as he managed a scientific sketch. After ten minutes or so, the creature once again began to whine. Logan looked up from his work and tucked his notebook back into the drybag. He stood and made his way to his specimen. Upon touching his coat, he found that his prior body heat had left it and it had become fully damp and cold with salt water and mucus. The beast whined again. Logan checked his watch. He'd been gone nearly three hours, and it was another hour drive back. He'd need to leave soon for lunch. He was once again met with a dilemma. If he left the creature in the swamp, it would suffer in the cold. But he couldn't really bring it with him, and the swamp was it's habitat. It had presumably survived for twenty plus years having surfaced every freeze. "I'm going to leave. Can I have my coat?" The creature whimpered loudly, echoing out into the forest. "-my coat?" "No, it's my coat. I'll be back, and I'll bring you something warm that you can have, okay? Yes or no." The beast huffed. "-no." Logan sighed. "I promise I'll be back. I know you must be extremely cold... fine. You can keep the coat for tonight, but I'm taking it back tommorrow and giving you something you can keep." The specimen squeaked with joy and bundled itself tighter in the coat. "Try to keep it as dry as you can, or it won't be warm, okay?" "Yes- -keep." Logan reached out and layed his hand on the creature's head. It pushed up into his palm in response, relishing the warmth. Logan stepped back, allowing it to slip out of the coat and back into the water. It swam a few laps around him and once between his legs before poking it's bright green eyes out of the water. Logan made sure he had everything, patting his pockets. "Well. I'll be back... probably tommorrow morning. I have work at night." Logan doubted the beast knew what work was, but he found himself telling it anyway. "Do you... want me to call you something in particular?" "-call- -me-" the creature finished it's sentence with a loud trill, followed by a low growl and ending in a hiss. "Ree...mmm...sss." Logan felt ridiculous trying to name the beast based on it's inhuman noises, but he found himself playing along anyway. "Remus. Like twin. You seem to be a mimic octopus of sorts, with your color changes and vocal abilities. It's perfect. It can be your species name too. I don't quite know your genus, or even your phylum really with any certainty... but I can name your species, I can't imagine anyone has yet. Does that sound like a good name?" Remus darted around Logan's legs for a few more laps and surfaced once again, eyes bright. "Remus. -perfect. -good name?" Logan smiled. "Glad to hear it. I should tell you my name then, shouldn't I? Logan. I'm Logan." "Logan. -good name?" Remus twirled in the water. "Logan." "I'm glad you think so." Logan stared at the creature a few moment's longer before turning and heading back to his car. "Oh no you don't!" Logan turned to see Roman pointing accusingly. "Don't be a shut in! I gathered some ridiculous movies and you're going to watch one with me." Logan looked down at his sandwich and back up the stairs. He usually ate in his room, though he knew Roman disliked it for some reason. He sighed. "Okay." He turned back and gently set his plate on the coffee table. Before he could sit out of his own volition, Roman wrapped his arms around his waist and pulled him down onto the couch. "ROMAN!" "Hm? There a problem?" Roman released his hold and blinked at Logan with innocent puppy dog eyes. Logan shoved him, breaking his facade into a quick bout of laughter. "You're an absolute menace." Logan fixed his hair and brushed himself off. "So what movies are you suggesting?" "Well, I wanted to be topical even if last night didn't go as well as we hoped." Roman flicked through his Netflix queue. "Our first option; The Creature from the Black Lagoon!" He imitated an old horror announcer, wiggling his fingers as if there were blood dripping down an imaginary title card in front of him. "Sound's patently ridiculous." "Exactly! Who doesn't like to riff on old horror flicks?" "I'm not generally one to 'riff'." Roman sighed. "I suppose not... then I guess that rules out 'Swamp Thing' too. Well if we want to take a bit of a departure we've got 'The Shape of Water'." Roman wiggled his eyebrows seductively. Logan winced. That was not something he necessarily enjoyed thinking about considering his morning. "Alright. We can watch Swamp Thing." "YES! You can be the Tom Servo to my Jonah!" "I will not be doing any riffing." Roman sighed. "Well then I'll do enough for the both of us." The show was as ridiculous as Logan had expected, and Roman's commentary, although silly, was quite entertaining. He found he had been subconsciously moving closer on the couch, not noticing until his shoulder touched Roman's. Roman looked over, but turned away quickly, almost as if he hadn't noticed at all. Within the minute though, he made another jab at the movie, using his resulting bout of laughter to slip an arm over Logan's shoulders. Not the most subtle or original of come-ons, but Logan's face flushed nonetheless. He returned the gesture by leaning into Roman's hold. The relative chaos of the last couple days was nearly forgotten in the moment. Logan spent the rest of the day brainstorming. He didn't want to reveal his secret to Roman quite yet, so he needed excuses to get out of the house. Of course work would be one, but that only made him think about how he'd manage his work as well as his escapades. The most clear but also most insane idea would be to bring Remus closer to him, but that was out of the question. He had nowhere to put it, Roman would most certainly find out, and their landlord hardly allowed guinea pigs let alone swamp monsters. Then that brought up another problem, being the creature's misery in the cold. Logan was certain it had lived through intense cold fronts before, but that didn't mean its suffering was to be brushed off. Logan chose to focus on the heat issue first and foremost. He considered ways to allow Remus relative warmth without removing it from its habitat. Anything electric would be unwise considering the water and distinct lack of electrical outlets in the middle of the forest. Coats were barely helpful either; the creature was cold blooded, so as soon as the coat lost warmth it would have no way to regain it. It would simply function as a windbreaker of sorts. Logan thought a moment. He pulled out his laptop and did a quick search. The idea was expensive, but doable. It would definitely be a good way to get the beast on his side. Logan found where to buy such a gift and closed his computer. He trotted down the stairs, grabbing a jacket on the way to the door. "Going for groceries!" "Don't strain yourself specs!" Logan ducked out the door and once again into his car. He started it, though before he pulled out he noticed the fuel gauge, indicating he was near empty. He sighed. This project was going to cost him an awful lot of gas.

[mittensmorgul]

Today’s entire TNT loop in one post, because I’m tired and there’s only three episodes:

3.14, Long Distance Call. This is what happens when you mess with the phone company, dillweed!

I've written a bunch in the past about how this episode relates to communication and keeping secrets, which is still relevant:

https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/159234156395/314-lies-and-secrets-and-its-deans-turn-to

and

https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/171381786235/not-meta-just-interesting-im-rewatching-314

But because the voice on the phone when Dean starts getting Calls From The Beyond (which aren't from the beyond but a manipulation by a creature who wants to lure Dean in to eat his soul) is John, providing words of comfort, encouragement, and instruction to Dean at a time where he feels like he's running out of time and options, Dean is led down a completely wrong path. "John" tells him he can get out of his deal and save himself from Hell by trapping a specific demon, but of course it's just the crocatta luring him to his death (but of course Dean figures that out before that can happen).

But Sam, meanwhile, THINKS he's told Dean what the monster actually is, but that information never reached Dean, leaving him confronting the crocatta by himself... RIP Stewie. Sam calls Dean and gets his voicemail (This is Herman Munster, leave a message), but his whole previous call with Dean wasn't even really a call with Dean...

SAM: What are you doing? CLARK: I'm killing your brother. Or maybe I'm killing another guy. We'll just have to see how it goes.

and most terrifying:

CLARK: Well once I made you two as hunters, it was easy. I found Dean's number, then your number, then your father's numbers. Then emails, voicemails, everything. You see, people think that stuff just gets erased, but it doesn't. You'd be surprised how much of yourself is just floating out there, waiting to be plucked. SAM: Dean's not going to fall for this. He's not going to kill that guy. CLARK: Then the guy kills him.

The crocatta was a monster who preyed on human communication, twisting words to his own benefit and manipulating people into believing what he needed to lure them to him. He had Dean convinced killing this innocent man would save him from Hell, but the other man was convinced that Dean was the man who'd killed his own daughter. It was all a distraction to keep Dean from learning what was really going on-- that Sam had effectively figured out what the monster was, and that it was the monster luring Sam to his lair, using Stewie as bait.

At the end of the story, everyone lost. Dean lost hope that they'd find a way to save him from Hell. Which drives Sam to pull a bit of a manipulation of his own...

in 3.15, Time Is On My Side.

This is Sam's last stand, his last hope to save Dean. Not by defeating the demon that holds his contract, but by gaming the system. His logic-- if Dean's can't die, he can't go to Hell. But the way Sam wants to make Dean immortal is... horrific at best. And something tells me the hellhounds wouldn't care if someone scienced their physical body into effective immortality, and would've collected Dean's soul anyway. But Sam needed to believe in something, as is his wont. When he loses hope, he loses it hard. Look at mid s13 for a reminder of that, specifically in an episode with a heavy thematic and tonal comparison to this one-- 13.11 Breakdown.

Meanwhile, Dean goes in a different direction, getting a lead on Bela and hoping to get the Colt back:

DEAN: You're not helping! You forget that if I welch on this deal, you die. Guess what, living forever is welching. SAM: Fine! Then, whatever the magic pill is, I'll take it too! DEAN: Oh, what is this? Sid and Nancy? No. It's just like Bobby's been saying. We kill the demon who owns the contract and this whole damn thing wipes clean. That's our best shot. SAM: Even if you had the Colt, Dean, who are you gonna shoot? We have no idea who holds the ticket. DEAN: Well, I'll shoot the hellhounds then before they slash me up. Now, you coming or not?

Sam decided... not. He stayed to try and figure out Benton's immortality formula. He does find it, but Dean doesn't want to live like that:

SAM: Dean, don't you want to live? DEAN: What he is isn't living. Look, this is simple. SAM: Simple? DEAN: To me it is, okay. Black or white; human, not human. (DEAN walks back to stand in front of DOC BENTON) See, what the Doc is is a freakin' monster. I can't do it. I would rather go to hell.

Well, heck, we know Dean doesn't really see anything as "black and white," and the real issue isn't "human or not human" anymore. But he does have a line he will not cross, and whatever Benton is is way too far across that line for Dean. And thank heck... Preserving life at all costs that way? At the cost of his own essential humanity? Yeah, that's horrific.

We meet Rufus, who eventually does provide Dean the lead to find Bela, but he also echoes Dean's attitude we've seen over and over again:

RUFUS: I know ain't no peashooter gonna save you. DEAN: What makes you so sure? RUFUS: Cause that's the job, kid. Even if you manage to scrape out of this one, there's just gonna be something else down the road. Folks like us...there ain't no happy ending. We all got it coming. DEAN: Well, ain't you a bucket of sunshine? RUFUS: I'm what you've got to look forward to if you survive. (Smirking and raising his glass again) But you won't.

Survive this round, just wait for the next one, because there's always a next one... Thanks, Rufus!

But of course Bela doesn't have the Colt anymore. Dean does learn that she sold her soul and her deal is about to come due. She's in the same boat he's been in all along...

DEAN: Is that why you stole the Colt, huh? Try to wiggle out of your deal, our gun for your soul? BELA: Yes. DEAN: But stealing the Colt wasn't quite enough, I'm guessing. BELA: They changed the deal. They wanted me to kill Sam. DEAN: Really! Wow, demons untrustworthy. Shocker.

Because no matter what, the demons were NEVER going to let Dean out of his deal. No matter how many demons they killed, no matter who they bargained with, no matter what, they needed him to die and go to Hell to fulfil their prophecy and break the first seal on the Apocalypse. And that's what s3 boiled down to in the end...

This was the long con that s4 would do to freaking perfection, but s3, with all it's structural deficiencies for having been 6 episodes shortened because of the writer's strike, manages the same...

So that brings us to 3.16, No Rest for the Wicked.

The one where they think they finally gained the upper hand on catching the Big Bad Demon who holds Dean's contract, and don't yet know the entire setup was a trap laid just for them. The fact the payoff on this information doesn't come until the end of s4, with other little hints along the way-- like Dean learning what Sam's been up to while he was in Hell, like learning about angels and the breaking seals of the apocalypse, like being given the runaround as heaven and hell both use Sam's desire to get revenge on Lilith for perceived wrongs against them and is willing to turn himself into a monster to achieve that end... when all along it was exactly what the angels and demons both wanted them to do...

S4 will become the template for Cosmic Manipulation of the Winchesters as part of the Grand Story of the Universe. But all the seeds for it were already planted in s3.

Well, except for Cas. He's the wild card, and isn't that the wildest thing ever?

I wonder how Chuck accounted for him? Bring on Team Free Will, breaking Chuck's story again and again until they'll finally force him to drop the curtain in 14.20...

ETA, because I always do this... I’ve written some about Ruby’s manipulation before, like in this post from May 2018, after the s13 finale aired:

https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/174230167715/since-your-anons-are-on-the-subject-there-is

SAM: And you decided to tell me this just now? RUBY: Um... demon. Manipulative's kinda in the job description. Fact is, is that you would have never considered it. Not until you were – SAM: Desperate enough?

and when Sam has doubts, and he’s so close to wanting to trust Ruby out of desperation?

DEAN: Don't you see a pattern here? Dad's deal, my deal, now this? I mean every time one of us is – is – is up the creek the other is begging to sell their soul. That's all this is, man. Ruby's just jerking your chain down the road. You know what it's paved with and you know where it's going.

And yep, that’s exactly it. The Winchester Family Sacrifice-Go-Round. All in the name of keeping Chuck entertained.

ETA FOR THE SECOND TIME: Lilith. Pretending to be a seriously twisted little girl, controlling this entire family for her own horrific idea of “fun.” Kinda similar to Chuck’s own MO, always playing a persona-- Chuck the trashy novel author, Chuck the prophet of the lord who doesn’t want to be, Chuck the super cute guy who was delightfully enamored by humanity enough to want to be human himself, at least for a little while... But all of it is part of his own incredibly long game, thinking he’s got the Winchesters exactly where he wants them, being on the scene to watch his plan play out, only for it to all go sideways.

ugh and yet another ETA: Dean, only when he is very close to death, a side effect of that is that he can literally see things he wasn’t able to before:

DEAN: I could see its face. Its real face under that one. SAM: So what, now you're seeing demons? DEAN: I've seen all kinds of things lately but... nothing like this. BOBBY: Actually it's not all that crazy. DEAN: How's it not that crazy? BOBBY: Well you've got, just over five hours to go? You're piercing the veil, Dean. You're glimpsing the B side. DEAN: A little less new age-y please. BOBBY: You're almost hell's bitch. So, you can see hell's other bitches. 

What a strange way to finally see through the illusions to the truth, you know? Dean got all the way through Chuck’s endless parade of misery in s14-- losing hope against Michael only to lose hope for Jack, and himself-- to that final moment where he was able to glimpse the B side, as it were.

ugh again... this is what I get for posting stuff before the episode is over...

How close to killing an innocent little girl did Sam come here? While her own mother begged him to do it, because as far as they knew, the girl was still possessed. But Dean saw the truth, the demon was gone.

Sam’s ready to do whatever “Ruby” wants him to to save Dean, but it’s already too late. Ruby isn’t even Ruby anymore. Dean hadn’t noticed the switch until it was too late, again. Always too late. All part of the long manipulation.