#morgan's friends au

[morganski-19]

The One with the Gossip

The group is hanging out at the café, all in different conversations when Jonathan comes into the bar and flops down on the couch. Camera bag sliding off his shoulders.

“When does this place start serving alcohol?” he groans.

“In about thirty minutes,” Nancy starts, “are you ok?”

Argyle trades places with Robin, sitting next Jonathan. “That bad?”

Jonathan nods, widening his eyes. “Messiest wedding I have worked months. There were so many things and they just piled on top of each other. The amount of bridesmaids and groomsmen that had previously slept together and didn’t know about it was insane.”

Steve and Eddie turn their heads at the same time. “What now,” Eddie says intrigued.

“I love messy shit I’m not apart of,” Steve mutters under his breath.

“It was crazy,” Jonathan sits up, turning toward Steve and Eddie at the side table. “And it all started for the most stupid reason. The guys apparently had a bet when to see how many of the bridesmaids they could sleep with. And the girls didn’t know about it, and a few of them fell with their ‘charms’ and were none the wiser. Until, one of the groomsmen said who won in their speech.”

“Holy shit,” Robin says with a sip of her tea.

Eddie winces. “That is such a dick move.”

“How likely was it that they were part of those fraternities that just liked to terrorize people,” Steve asks. Having almost accidently joined one of these fraternities when he was in college.

Jonathan nods with disgust. “That only scratches the surface. The best man had won, having slept with six out of the seven bridesmaids, and he was engaged to the maid of honor.”

Everyone winces with disgust.

“Not cool, dude,” Argyle says with disappointment. “So not cool. How can people do this to other people. And think that they can get away with it.”

“Because they’re inconsiderate assholes,” Steve says at the same the same time Eddie says “They’re disgusting bags of shit.” They high five each other.

Jonathan lets out a long breath. “And I’m not done yet. It gets worse.”

“Oh my god, how,” Nancy questions.

Argyle stands. “I’ll be right back, continue without me.” He walks over to the bar and starts to talk to the barista.

“He got bonus points for sleeping with the bride. And the second-place winner, was the groom.”

“Holy shit,” everyone says in unison.

Jonathan nods with wide eyes. “And the groom got a bonus point for sleeping with his future mother in law.”

They were too stunned to speak, just letting the silence fill that moment. Argyle returns with a cup of something and places it in Jonathan’s hands.

“What did I miss?” he asks, looking at them all super confused. “Are you guys broken?”

Steve shakes his head, trying to wrap his head around what was just said. “I don’t think I’ve heard that one before.”

“And this is coming from someone who has actually slept with one of his frat bro’s moms,” Robin interjects.

“On accident. And she was his stepmom, that was much younger than his dad, well after I was in college. He doesn’t know, it’s fine.”

“Did that cause another sex ban?” Eddie asks.

Steve laughs. “No, that’s when the figured out that the previous sex ban wasn’t working.”

Jonathan takes a sip of the drink Argyle gave him. “Jesus, that’s strong. Did you bribe them or something?”

“Something like that. Seriously though, what did I miss?”

“Groom slept with the future mother-in-law,” Robin fills in, Argyle winces. “What is with people?”

Jonathan shrugs. “Don’t know. But it was a big wedding that they are not getting a refund for. And I still got cake, well what was left of it.”

Eddie leans forward. “What was left of it?”

“Yeah,” Jonathan nods. “Speeches were right before cake, so the bride took the entire top layer and slammed it over the groom’s head. Followed by the maid of honor taking two giant handfuls and shoving it into the best man’s face. Arguments broke out and all that shit. I stayed back to help clean up.”

“Had they signed the marriage certificate yet?” Nancy asks.

Jonathan sighs. “No clue, don’t care. It’s over and I got paid. A lot. This was not a cheap wedding. Oh right,” Jonathan reaches down into his bag and grabs a takeout container, handing it to Argyle. “Saved you a piece of cake.”

Argyle takes it, opening it and starting to eat it. Nodding his head in appreciation.

The rest of the group looks at Jonathan. “Where’s our cake?” Robin asks, a little hurt.

“You don’t live with me, you don’t get cake.”

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low, @thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady, @apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic, @fearieshadow, @mentallyundone, @eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging, @potato-of-the-lord, @autumncrocusandladybug

[dexteri0us]

no, i don't want nothing crazy; just wanna get you alone; and all of this snow is falling; i can make you fall too

pairing: best friend's dad!dexter morgan x f!reader

warnings: fluff, domesticity, harrison (listen, i'm not a fan of his, but he serves a purpose), age gap (both reader and harrison are in college), best friend's dad!dexter, smut - shower sex, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected sex, dom!dexter

summary: requested: "shower sex with dexter? please and thank you 🙏🏻"

w/c: 6.9k

a/n: i honestly love new blood and i will always consider it a christmas tv. merry christmas!🎄

Spending Christmas in Iron Lake wasn’t your initial plan, but now that you thought about it, it was for the better. You were supposed to spend Christmas with your dad this year. It also included him picking you up in Iron Lake and driving you to New York, but he backed out at the last minute. You weren’t even surprised at this point; he always went out of his way to let you down. Or maybe it was just your perception. After all, he said the same thing about you.

Going to your mom’s wasn’t an option either, not with her boyfriend in the picture. He was a carbon copy of your dad, not just in appearance in attitude too. Arrogant, dismissive, and always acting like spending time with you was beneath him, especially when you were a teenager. He’d never really made an effort to connect. So, you were pretty happy to get into college and move into the dorms. But that didn’t necessarily mean you wanted to spend Christmas alone.

You couldn’t ask Harrison to take you either because he had plans with Audrey.  

“Fuck.” You muttered, reading the text from your dad.  

“What’s wrong?” Harrison asked, glancing up from across the table. A smudge of clung to the corner of his mouth as he took another bite of his cheeseburger, his eyes briefly scanning the diner for a waitress that would bring him another cup of coffee.

“Dad bailed on me. I’ll probably have to hitchhike to get to New York.”

“What? No way! I’ll drive you,” he said immediately.

“Harrison.” You gave him a look. “You promised Audrey to help her and Angela with the charity drive.”

“Out of all people, I think Angela and Audrey would understand.” 

You raised a brow at him, knowing full well he’d argue until he was blue in the face, but you weren’t about to let him ruin his plans because of you. You were big on keeping promises, and you sure as hell weren’t going to be the reason someone broke theirs.

“Well, you can always spend Christmas with us. My dad won’t mind.”

And that’s how you ended up swapping the couch for the bed with Harrison every night, spending the first of many Christmas breaks with the Morgans. Well, technically the Morgan-Lindsays, but to you, Harrison’s dad would always be Mr. Morgan.

When you first called him that, he just stared at you, almost startled, but Harrison had quickly jumped in to explain. Not to you, to his dad, that you just couldn’t get used to the difference in their last names. He seemed to relax a little after that, though he still looked kind of stiff most of the time.

Sometimes, you wondered if he didn’t like you, or if your presence made him uneasy. But Harrison had reassured you that he was always like that. He’s just weird like that. Don’t take it personally.

So, you didn’t. And truth be told, over the next Christmases you spent with the father-son duo, you became more comfortable around Mr. Morgan – or Jim, as he insisted on calling him. “Jim” just felt unnatural to you, so usually, you just settled for “hey” to get his attention. But every now and then, “Mr. Morgan” would slip out of your mouth. And truth be told, you thought he liked it.

Eventually, it would become like a running joke between you two.

One night, during your second Christmas in Iron Lake, you caught him with that amused smile on his face when you said it again.

“What?” You asked, passing him a plate to dry as the two of you cleaned up after dinner. Harrison was in the other room, button-mashing his way through a video game.

“What?” Mr. Morgan asked, glancing at you with mock confusion.

“Every time I call you Mr. Morgan, you look like you’re holding back some big inside joke.”

“Do I?” he said lightly, his brows furrowed, but the smirk formed by his lips didn’t falter.

“Yeah.” You snorted, as if it was the most obvious thing. “It’s weird.”

“Weird? I’ll have to talk to Harrison, he’s bad influence.”

You just rolled your eyes. You weren’t going to kid yourself. You had developed almost a feet-kicking crush on him and his teasing wasn’t helping. You felt like a little girl with a silly crush on her classmate.

You remember how reserved he had been, intense, when you met him for the first time. It had made you a little bit uncomfortable, but paradoxically, you preferred that to some pretense-interest in your life. He already knew about your situation with your dad and your mother – or more specifically, with her boyfriend.

You loved Harrison, but he kind of had a big mouth on him, and he had told his dad. You could tell from the way Mr. Morgan avoided the subject altogether. Honestly, it was refreshing. Audrey’s mom asked about your parents every year – polite but a bit probing, sometimes you felt like she was judging you and or maybe thought there was more to the story. You didn’t blame her, though. First, she was a cop, and second, they were your family, after all. At least, by blood.

Still, you felt more welcome here than you ever did with your parents. Mr. Morgan made it so easy too, even if things had been a little awkward at first.

The first Christmas you spent in Iron Lake, you ended up in the woods with Mr. Morgan, collecting firewood. Harrison made sure you felt comfortable being alone with him, and you did, it was just a little awkward.

You didn’t know what was weirder – spending Christmas in Iron Lake, or trudging into the woods along with your best friend’s dad. He didn’t exactly scream “festive cheer” with his quiet, no-nonsense demeanor.

Harrison had once told you that he wasn’t always like that. Apparently, there had been some kind of hunting accident, back when Harrison was learning how to shoot. He’d hit his dad, barely missing the heart, but he'd survived. Harrison described it as a Christmas miracle, but from that moment on, Mr. Morgan just hadn’t felt the need to celebrate Christmas like he had the years prior.

You watched him move through the snowy woods with certainty, like he already knew exactly which trees to check for fallen branches.

“So, uh… you do this every year?”

Nice. Real charming. You were a master in manipulating professors into extending deadlines. How are you so bad at making casual conversation?

“Pretty much,” he replied without looking up, crouching to grab a branch half-buried in the snow. “Wood-burning stove keeps the place warm. It’s more reliable than the heater.”

“Oh.” You nodded, even though he wasn’t looking at you. The cool air bit into your cheeks, your boots crunching in the snow as you followed a few steps behind. Then you tried again. “I mean, I guess it makes sense. You don’t strike me as the kind of guy who’d be big on central heating.”

You tried to joke, but he stopped for a moment, straightening up and glancing at you with a flicker of confusion in his eyes. “What kind of guy do I strike you as?”

“Well, you know.” You shrugged, trying to not get distracted by the joke going over his head. “The ‘off-the-grid cabin’ type. Knows his way around a woodchipper. Probably has a couple of tarps in the trunk, just in case.”

He watched you, probably waiting for a smile to crack, but your expression remained serious. You started to think maybe you’d gone too far. But then he finally snorted softly, pointing the branch in your direction.

“Tarps are versatile.”

His delivery was deadpan too, so dry it caught you off guard. Was that… a joke? You couldn’t tell, but you let out a laugh anyway. You decided to just role with it.

“Right. For winter emergencies.”

He didn’t respond, just gave a faint nod as he tossed another branch onto the sled you’d brought along.

“You’re doing fine,” he said after a moment, his tone surprisingly reassuring.

It made you scoff, your breath puffing in the cold air.

“Thanks Mr. Morgan, I was really worried about failing Firewood 101.”

You really enjoyed spending time with him like that, even though he didn’t talk much. But the way he adjusted his pace so you wouldn’t fall behind, stepped on a stick that was stubbornly stuck to the sole of your boot, or helped you with a stubborn log trapped under the snow made you feel like you didn’t have to try so hard.

When that Christmas break ended, you felt kind of bittersweet, because you knew you’d now see him only occasionally when he’d visit Harrison in New York. That is, if you were lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time. But the year went by like nothing, and lo and behold, Harrison had invited you to spend another Christmas with them, saying that his dad brought it up first. To Harrison, it meant nothing, to you? Every-fucking-thing.

So now, during the second Christmas with the Morgans, you were doing domestic shit with him, like washing dishes while he was teasing you. It made your body all jittery with every passing moment. Hell, you didn’t even mind that he didn’t have a dishwasher, because you liked doing dishes with him. And Harrison was grateful for that too. See, everyone was getting something out of it.

“Maybe I just think it’s funny. You’re so committed to it. But I guess it’s better than calling me hey.”

Your jaw dropped.

“Okay, you brought that on yourself. No offense, but Jim just doesn’t suit you. It’s too basic.”

He had that faint smile on his face again, his eyelids dropped as if he was having a whole inner monologue again, but you didn’t call him out this time.

When that Christmas ended, you didn’t have to wait long to see him again. Harrison started inviting you to every holiday – Easter, Halloween and Thanksgiving. Of course, you couldn’t make it to all of them, but you did appreciate the extra time you got to spend with Mr. Morgan. He’d even helped you, Harrison and Audrey move them into their new apartment in New York. And you were too naïve and paranoid, so you thought he was doing it all for you.

So, next Christmas, you decided to come prepared.

“You can’t give her another necklace. Try to be original,” you said, sipping on your coffee, watching Harrison rub his temples as he tried to think of a Christmas present for Audrey.

“Okay… okay.” He sighed, letting his hands fall to the table, grinding his teeth as if he was contemplating his thoughts. “I have an idea. But it’s big and you’re gonna laugh.”

“Okay. All the more reason why you should tell me.”  

He took a deep breath, and then, he spit it out.

“I bought her a ring. An engagement ring.”

Your eyes widened and your lips broke into a huge smile. “No fucking way. Are you fucking kidding?”

“See? I knew you were gonna laugh at me.” He rolled his eyes and fell back into his seat, crossing his arms like a child.

“I’m not laughing at you. That’s amazing, Harrison. Oh, my God.”

“But?”

You stayed silent for a moment, figuring out a way to put it gently. “But… Audrey hates clichés.”

He closed his eyes in exasperation.

“Fuck.”

“No, hey. You can propose to her, but maybe don’t make it the main thing, you know.”

He sighed, rising to his feet with a small scowl on his face.

“Hey,” you said softly, “I’m so happy for you two. And she will be too.”

You exchanged smiles before he made his exit. You leaned against the back of the seat and looked out of the window to your right side, still smiling. You wondered if Mr. Morgan and Angela knew.

You got back to the crossword puzzle you put under your plate, munching on the bagel to fill your stomach and enjoying the faint Christmas music playing from the speakers. The waitress had just refilled your cup when someone slid into the booth across from you.

At first, you didn’t look up, assuming it was Harrison again, maybe realizing he’d forgotten something. But when you finally glanced up, you were met with a face you hadn’t expected.

“Morning,” the man said, his voice smooth and polite. It made you sit up just a little bit straighter.

“Uh, morning.” You smiled back.

“I couldn’t help but notice you sitting here alone,” he continued, leaning forward just slightly. “I’m Kurt. Kurt Caldwell.” He extended a hand across the table, his palm up.

You introduced yourself, putting your hand into his. You’d heard about Mr. Caldwell. They’d said he was a very kind and fair employer, someone who took care of his own. But after his son's death, he'd vanished from the public eye for a while.

For such a small town, there was sure a lot of accidents. Tragedies. On the brighter side, the number of of missing women cases dropped in the past few years, so that's that.

“You’re not from around here, are you?”

“No, just visiting,” you said with a smile but remained cautious. After all, he was a stranger. And you’re not one to underestimate the stranger danger rule. Not even in a small community like this.

“Really? We don’t have many visitors this time of year, Christmas tends to keep people close to home. You staying with family?”

“Friends,” you corrected.

“That’s nice. It’s always good to have people you can rely on during the holidays.”

You offered him another polite smile, unsure of what to say. He seemed harmless, but people randomly coming up to you were instantly weird to you. Welcome to a small town.

“You know, if you’re looking for something to do while you’re in town, I run a little truck stop just outside the main strip. Got a great diner there, too, and we’re always looking for friendly faces to stop by. First meal’s on me.”

“Okay, I’ll think about it,” you replied, laughing with him.

You pretended to get back to your puzzle, hoping he’d leave you alone, but before he could say anything else, the bell above the diner’s door jingled, and you heard your name.

You turned to see Mr. Morgan standing in the doorway, his presence commanding. He scanned the booth, his eyes landing on Kurt before flicking to you.

“Oh, hi.” You waved awkwardly at him as you watched him stride towards your table.

“Harrison forgot his gloves,” he told you, even though his gaze was locked on Kurt.

“Oh, right. I’ll text him.” You grabbed your phone, completely oblivious to the silent standoff happening between Mr. Morgan and Mr. Caldwell.

Mr. Caldwell stood, his smile losing some of its warmth. “Well, I should get going. It was nice to meet you, YN. Hope I’ll see you around.”

You gave him a polite nod and with that, he turned and walked out of the diner.

Mr. Morgan waited until the door closed behind him before he finally spoke.

“You okay?”

You hit send and looked up.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” You asked, brows furrowed.

“Just checking.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he breathed out, grabbing the empty sugar packet on the table and crumpling it in his hand. “But next time, maybe stick to sitting with people you actually know.”

This time, his tone was firm, almost scolding. You blinked at him, taken aback by this side of him. Now that you thought about it, you had never seen him pissed. And you didn’t know how to react. Your muscle memory took over for you, feeling the need to get defensive.

“Okay… I wasn’t – he just sat down. I didn’t –”

“Finish your breakfast. I’ll drive you back.” He interrupted, glancing out the window one more time as he watched Kurt’s truck disappear down the road.

You weren’t sure if it was the way he was ordering you around, or the way his hand hovered over the small of your back as he led you out of the diner, or the darkness that spread across his face, but something was sending shivers down your spine.

That evening, it was the first time you touched yourself to the thought of Mr. Morgan. You started wearing more revealing clothes, nothing fancy, just simple shorts and tank tops that would just show your skin, even though it was literally freezing outside. Overtime, you got bolder, getting close to him when Harrison wasn’t looking, unnecessarily leaning over him or brushing against him with your ass. When it was your turn on the couch, you’d purposefully stay uncovered, hoping that the tight shorts would ride up your ass while you were sleeping, to bring a little diversity to his early-morning routines.

He was a smart man. He knew what you were doing. And unfortunately for you, he was resilient.

“You sure you aren’t cold?” he’d asked once as you mixed the batter for gingerbread cookies, leaning casually against the counter behind you. And when you turned around, you saw his eyes flick from your exposed legs to your face. He did exactly nothing to hide it.

“I’m sure.”

You gave him an innocent smile and returned your focus to the batter, smirking to yourself.

“It’s below freezing outside.”

Yeah, tell me about it.

“Exactly. Outside. That’s why we collect firewood, right?”

“Hmm.”

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he studied you. Or tried to intimidate you? Honestly, you had no idea. “Doesn’t really explain why you’ve been walking around dressed like it’s summer for the past week.”

You paused, holding the bowl against your ribcage as you turned to face him.

“Maybe I’m just trying to liven up this place. Bring some Miami energy to Iron Lake.”

His lips twitched, but he didn’t smile. “Miami energy?” He repeated the words like they amused him, though his tone was dry. “Interesting choice.”

Your cheeks flushed and a shiver ran down your arms – and not from the cold. Maybe, just maybe, you should have kept your mouth shut. Harrison had told you that they’d moved from Florida. But you didn’t need to mention that part.

You were waiting for him to say something else, but he didn’t. He just stared at you, with that expression on his face that said that you were crossing a line. He made you too aware of your whole being – your skin, your lips, your eyes, everything was twitching or at least it felt like it was.

Gulping down the lump in your throat, trying as much as you could to make it unnoticeable, you turned your back to him again. He didn’t say anything more, and when you heard him walk away, you finally felt like you had space to breathe again. You hoped he at least checked you out one more time before leaving. Your cheeks still burned with a mix of embarrassment and frustration, and your body ached with an unfulfilled desire that he seemed intent on ignoring.

But still. He wasn’t as unaffected as he wanted you to believe. You just needed to figure out how to crack him.

Sometimes, less was more. So, the next evening, you decided to try something else. You’d packed a pair of thigh-high, cable-knit burgundy socks that you almost never wore – you found out quickly it was too impractical for everyday use. You thanked yourself for not selling them on Vinted, because now, they had a perfect use.

They clung perfectly to your legs, and you paired them with an over-sized sweater that was barely covering your thighs, leaving a teasing strip of skin visible when you moved. And that was the only thing you were relying on. Well, that and your sweater riding up when you’d stretch yourself up to hang the Christmas decorations.

You slid into your Birkenstocks and took a deep breath. Showtime.

You had been at the cabin alone, but you knew exactly when he was coming home. You’d timed it all perfectly, waiting until you knew he’d walk in and see you in the middle of something. Harrison wouldn’t have noticed the outfit, but Mr. Morgan noticed everything, even when he pretended he didn’t.

It was quiet as you set up for decorating, untangling the mess of Christmas lights while waiting. Any minute now. And then, you felt a gust of icy wind as Mr. Morgan made his entrance. You glanced over your shoulder, greeting him with a fleeting smile, pretending not to pay him too much attention.

“How was work?” you asked as you started to wrap the lights around the mantle, focusing on draping the string evenly.

“Average.” He said as he threw his car keys into the bowl by the door. “Did the cold finally get to you?”

You smirked to yourself, proud that you made unable to resist commenting on your clothes. First thing that came to his mind. Meaning the image of you in your usual shorts must've been lingering somewhere in his had. It had to be.

“Yeah, you were right. I wouldn’t want to spend Christmas in bed, on the cusp of dying,” you said, feigning defeat. “Where’s Harrison? He was supposed to help me.”

His brow furrowed slightly. “I don’t know.”

Well, you did. He was still at the tavern, because you told him you’d start at around nine. It was around six o’clock.

“Never mind." you said with a small shrug, turning to adjust a strand of lights. "At least I don’t have to listen to how everything's at the wrong angle.”

That earned a fait snort from him. His boots thudded against the floor as he crossed the room.  “You need a hand?”

“No, thanks. But you’re welcome to supervise. You’re good at that.”

“Funny.”  

“Is it?”

You reached for the next decoration – a thin garland of cranberries – and stretched up on your tiptoes to hook it around the nail, feeling the hem of your sweater ride up, baring the tops of your thighs. You could almost feel the moment he noticed by the way the silence in the room sharpened.

“I should’ve bought you some proper clothes for Christmas.”

Oh, my God. You couldn’t believe it worked.

“Really? And what would you consider proper, Mr. Morgan?”

You turned to face him, watching his eyes darken, his pupils dilate as his eyes flicked to your legs and then back to your face, his jaw tightening slightly. “Something warmer.”

“Warmer?” you echoed, glancing down at your cozy outfit. “I thought this was perfectly appropriate for decorating.”

“Appropriate for what, exactly?”

You tilted your head, the corners of your lips quirking upward as you shrugged playfully. “For making the place feel festive.”

“Festive.” He repeated with a strong voice. “If you say so.”

You stepped closer, your fingers fiddling with a stray cranberry that had fallen into your hand. “You don’t approve?”

Oof. Well, go big or go home.  

His posture shifted, straightening just enough to make him seem even taller, making you crane your neck to hold the eye contact. “I didn’t say that.”

A tiny victory. You nearly let your grin slip, but you had to hold it back. You still didn’t get what you wanted.

“Well, if you have any decorating tips, I’m all ears," you said casually, turning your attention back to the box of ornaments. You pulled out another string of lights and moved around the room.

You repeated the same tactics again and again. Sometimes, you bent down deliberately to give him a different angle as he ate his dinner, before retreating to the couch and doing something on his computer. Other times, you stretched a little too far to reach something, the edge of your sweater lifting again, revealing more skin.

The room was finally coming together, warm light casting shadows across the walls, the faint scent of pine and cinnamon filling the air. You collected the empty boxes and stray bits of ribbon scattered on the floor and stepped back to admire your work.

With everything in place, you decided to retreat to the bathroom for a well-earned shower. Stripping out of your sweater and socks, you paused with your hand on the faucet knob, another idea sparking in your mind.

If he wanted to keep his composure, he was going to have to work harder. You hadn't done all of this for nothing.

You grabbed a towel and wrapped it tightly around yourself before heading into the living room, where he was still locked in whatever he was doing on his laptop.

“Mr. Morgan?” you called, your voice intentionally soft.

“Yes?”

He glanced over his shoulder, and his brow immediately fell, his eyes roaming your body yet again.

“The shower isn’t working. You think you could take a look at it?”

For a moment, he didn’t move, his eyes narrowing, trying to decipher your intentions. Shit, he was already onto you and you were scared you’d really scare him away. But then he rose to his feet and made his way to the bathroom. He eyed you suspiciously as he walked by you, but you just gave him an innocent smile. He disappeared into the bathroom, the faint creak of the old wooden door echoing through the cabin. You followed close behind, feeling the chill of the room raise goosebumps on your skin. The sound of him inspecting the faucet, twisting the knobs, testing the showerhead and eventually the sound of water filled the silence.

“It’s working fine. You probably didn’t turn the knob far enough.”

“Oh. My mistake.”

You stepped further into the cramped space, closing the door behind you quietly and leaning against it, nibbling on your lip.

He turned around, sighing as he was already aware of you caging him.

“YN,” he said, giving you a chance to back out. “What are you doing?”

He stepped closer to you, his sturdy figure towering over you. You shifted your weight from one foot to another, trying to not let your composure slip.

“Well, I thought maybe you could teach me how to fix it,” you shrugged your shoulders, the words stumbling out before you could really think them through.

“You don’t need to know how to fix it if it’s not broken.”

You swallowed hard, your fingers gripping the towel tighter, the only thing keeping you grounded, really. You could be here forever with this back and forth, words felt useless. So instead of saying anything, you rose to your tiptoes and kissed him. It wasn’t bold, not entirely; you lingered just long enough to make your intention clear, then pulled back.

You couldn’t read him, his eyes were closed and his lips still parted from the kiss before he finally spoke.

“This isn’t supposed to happen,” he said, exhaling sharply through his nose.

“Why? Because it doesn’t fit into your routine?” You meant it as a joke, but this was really not the time.

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might walk away. But then he stepped just a little bit closer, his hands bracing on either side of the door behind you, caging you in.

“You can’t even imagine what I’m capable of.”

You probably couldn’t, but it didn’t even matter. You found him attractive, and you wanted him. It was as simple as that.

“You sure you want to take that risk? All because you can’t help but act on your impulses? Last chance. Walk away.”

But you didn’t and you let him know with a subtle shake of your head. And that was it. Whatever restraint he’d been holding onto snapped like a thread pulled too tight. His mouth was on yours in an instant, the kiss rough and urgent. His hand slid from your neck to your jaw, tilting your face just enough to deepen the kiss.

You’d never been with an older man, but man, was this something else. He wasn’t careful about it. Even though he didn’t strike you as the most confident guy at first sight, the kiss convinced you otherwise. It was a stark contrast to your previous boyfriends. They’d been clumsy and eager, but Mr. Morgan – Jim knew exactly what he wanted and how to take it.

You barely had time to catch your breath as his lips left yours, trailing along your jaw, his stubble scraping your skin in a way that made your knees weak. He didn’t waste any more time as his other hand slid up your inner thigh and beneath the towel, going straight to your pussy. You gasped as his finger found your wetness, fighting the urge to shy away.

In no time, his clothes were gone and the towel pooled on the floor. He gripped your hips firmly, turning your bodies around and guiding you under the steady stream of water pouring from the showerhead. The sensation of cool water against your skin was overshadowed by the way his hands roamed your body and pulled you against him, making you dig your nails into his biceps.

“Jim,” you gasped as his cock brushed against your cunt, but his hand shot up to your face, covering your mouth.

“No.” He growled. “You picked the wrong time to use that name.”

Your brows knit together in confusion. That name? What was that supposed to mean? 

“Get on your knees.”

Without hesitation, you obeyed, sinking to your knees in front of him, your kneecaps digging into the wet tiles. He shifted his body so his broad frame was shielding you from the stream of water, making you aware of the cool air prickling your damp skin.

The droplets were cascading down his chest and over the taut lines of his stomach. Your eyes lifted from the scar on his left side to meet his, and for a moment, he just simply looked at you. Admired you. Then, with one hand cradling the back of your head and the other stroking his cock, he guided you closer.

You opened your mouth automatically, your lips almost wrapping around his head, but before you made a contact, he gripped your soaked hair and pulled you away, making you shriek.

“Did I tell you you could put your mouth on me?”   

“No,” you said with a small voice.

“That’s right. So, let’s try this again. Who’s in control?”

“You are, Mr. Morgan.”  

You felt your pussy throb from the way he was ordering you around. And for a split second, you were doubting yourself that you could handle it. What if he thought you were pathetic? What if he waited for you to fight back? What if he wanted you to be bratty?

“Hey, look at me,” he said, his voice softer than before, but it was still demanding. His thumb brushed along your shiny lips before continuing. “You’re beautiful. Don’t overthink this.”

Yeah, probably easy for him to say, but you nodded anyway.

“Stick your tongue out. Keep it out.”

You obeyed, opening your mouth wide and letting your tongue rest on your chin. He gripped your jaw again, holding you in place. His cock brushed lightly against your tongue, before letting go of your jaw and bringing his hand to the back of your neck, squeezing, as he guided you down his cock. Automatically, your hands shot up to grab onto his thighs.

“Now, if it gets too much, you tap my leg three times, okay?”

You nodded, the movement of your head with his cock in your mouth making him hiss.

“Show me.”

You tapped his thigh.

“Good girl.”

Your chest swelled with pride as he praised you. This was a whole another level of making you feel good, and you’d never guess it would be coming from your best friend’s father. And not only was he making you feel good, but he also gave you confidence, making you slide your mouth around his cock in a more steady rhythm with him still controlling the movements.

It was slow at first, but you felt that he was holding back, so when he went to pull your head back, you overpowered his strength and instead let his cock slide deep into your throat, making you gag while he simultaneously moaned at the unexpected feeling. He pulled out of your mouth, a string of saliva and precum connecting your lips to the head of his cock.

“Fuck,” he whispered, as his palm wiped your chin. Well, more like spread the fluids over your lower jaw, before he returned his cock into your mouth and fucked it. He finally let go, hitting your throat over and over again, making you gag and cough around him, up until the point tears started sliding down your cheeks.

You were so close to tapping out, but before you could signal to him, he pulled out and leaned down, grabbing your jaw as he kissed your open mouth, tasting himself on you.

“Get up.”

You stumbled slightly as you got to your feet, your knees weak and sore from being in that position for so long. He didn’t give you a chance to steady yourself, grabbing your hips and spinning you around. Your back hit his chest as he guided you toward the tiled wall.

“Hands on the wall.”

As you did so, his hand trailed down your back, lingering over the curve of your ass before landing a sharp smack that made you gasp, and wow. You’d never have guessed that he’d be such a kinky motherfucker.

It’s not like you hadn’t had a guy slap your ass before, but this was just different. You remember being unable to get turned on when your sexual partner would spank you. You remember thinking maybe there was something wrong with you. It’s not like you didn’t like it or like it made you uncomfortable. You just hadn’t felt anything. It hadn’t hurt. It hadn’t sting. It had been like eating plain, salted chips. They taste good, but they don’t really get you excited.

But from Mr. Morgan, it burned, and it was the best feeling in the world. He skimmed his nails against the flesh of your butt, as if tracing the hand-print that was surely forming there. He placed kisses down your back until he was kissing your stinging skin. You shied away as you realized he was now kneeling behind you, but he quickly caught you by the creases where your thigh meets your abdomen, pulling you back to him.

“Spread your legs,” he instructed yet again.

Your heart pounded, the position feeling unnatural, but despite that, you moved your feet apart, feeling the stickiness between your thighs. You flinched as his cold fingers made contact with your pussy, but quickly recovered. He buried his thumb between your pussy lips, parting them as he slid it from your hole to your clit, pressing down harder as he circled the sensitive bud.

Your whole body vibrated, the blood rushing through your body and into your throbbing clit. He kept flicking it with his finger, occasionally slowing down to pull the hood of your clit back to focus on the most innervated part of you. You arched your back, as he brushed over that spot, making your stomach tighten. Then he finally brought his fingers to your cunt, pushing in one, then two fingers. It made you mewl, the way he was carefully sliding them in and out, enjoying every ridge of your walls. You heard him sigh, feeling his hot breath bouncing off your ass. It made you realize how bad you wanted his mouth on your pussy.

And as if he read your thoughts, his fingers slid out of you and to your clit, as he replaced them with his tongue, flexing it and fucking you with it straight away. He was licking up your walls, the wet muscle prodding against them, making you moan. The finger still worked your clit, but when you felt him open his mouth wide and bury his face even further into your ass to get his tongue as far as he possibly could. It made you see galaxies.

When he felt you twitching against him, already trying to get away, albeit unintentionally, he circled both your thighs with his arm, trapping you against him. You were basically sitting on his face and now that his fingers left your clit, he slid his chin lower, his stubble scratching your skin as the tip of his tongue massaged your clit. His nose was buried in your wet hole now, his cheeks squished by your thighs, and you were scared you were going to suffocate him. Unfortunately, it was his fault and his fault only that you stopped caring as soon as you heard the squelching sounds of your pussy as his tongue kept delving into you. That’s what he did, he made you selfish. He was bringing you closer to the edge and the only thing you cared about was falling.

And with his tongue flicking against your clit, you soon felt the knot in your stomach tightening, until you let go. Your release poured out of you and he was catching it all on his tongue, licking everything up.

Once he got every drop, he stood to his full height, his arms encircling you. I made you feel safe, secured. One of his hands landed on your breast, squeezing and pinching your nipple as he kissed along your neck and then your shoulder, waiting for you to fully come down. You let your head fall backwards against his shoulder, nuzzling into his neck.

He smelled so good. Or maybe it was just the undetectable pheromones spreading through the air that sharpened every sense to its peak. You felt like a mess. Your hands itched to adjust your hair, to wipe at the moisture beading on your flushed skin, but you were too scared to move.

“Are you sure?” He asked as he pressed closer, his cock prodding at your cunt.

“Yes.”

And then he finally fucked you. Your back arched instinctively into him as he started thrusting, finding a steady rhythm. His hand slipped lower, tracing the line of your hip before dipping between your thighs again, spreading your pussy and grazing the nail of his finger over your clit. His hips moved harder and harder, the sounds of wet skin slapping against each other, his moans and your whimpers filled the room, the stream of water coming from the shower making a bad job at obscuring it. He was hitting that spot inside of you over and over again and combined with the sensation of his fingers on your clit and his teeth pressing against your shoulder as he licked the water from your skin made your knees buckle. He was going to leave a faint imprint, that’s for sure.

He was getting close too, or at least you thought so from the way he got louder and more high-pitched, fucking you faster. He wasn’t gentle about it. He wanted you to come hard around him, and it was working. You were getting closer and closer, and when he sank his teeth a little harder into your shoulder, not sure if it was intentional or in the heat of the moment, that name escaped your mouth on its own again.

“Jim–”

And in a snap of a finger, his hand shot up to your mouth, covering it and leaning your head back against his shoulder, his lips ghosting your ear.

“Dexter,” he said, his hand sliding down to your neck and lightly pressing against your throat. Your brain was mush, you didn’t know what he meant, your brows knitting in confusion as you tried to focus on what he just said. “Fucking say it.” He growled when you didn’t react, pinching your clit and giving you a particularly hard and deep thrust as he stopped him movements. 

“Dexter,” you moaned immediately. You just wanted to be good for him.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he praised as he started fucking you again until you were coming around him. It made your whole body convulse. You hinged your hips to press against him and at the same time, to escape his wicked fingers. You brought your hand down to cover his on your pussy, thinking maybe it would bring you relieve from the overstimulation, but it did exactly nothing at all. You kept coming, coating his cock in your cum, making it easier for him to slide along your pussy walls, but harder for him to keep his cock from sliding all the way out. You were so slippery, your cunt clenching around him which brought him to his own edge, finally spilling himself inside of you.

Gradually, he slowed down until he eventually removed his cock from your pussy and freed your sensitive clit from his fingers. He did manage to slide them to your hole one last time, scooping up your mixed cum as he brought his hand in front your faces and admired it, his breath hot against the nape of your neck as he rubbed the juices between his fingers. You watched it slowly disappear under the running water before he let his arm fall to your hip, turning you around. He pressed his forehead against yours and closed his eyes, breathing heavily, before opening them again, his eyelashes catching the drops of water from the shower.

“Next time, I’m fucking you in those socks.”

[mountainshroom]

The cowboys ever !!

[itsguysnightitsironic]

Ja ja ja, college life (dies)

Some good old doodles on Discord inspired by the art I made inspired by Lilin Modern/College AU

okay... Now I need all of you to be SO normal, okay? THIS IS BETWEEN US, OKAY?

OKAY.

I didn't realise I gave Sarnax the "black shirt and grey sweatpants" combo.

I know, jail to me, jail to my cow, jail to my family-

[pzyii]

Previously mentioned (here) hs au doodles (closeups under cut)

[lordvonbunnyv]

I did it folks! I finally got around to drawing Morgan as a human

[pendleton-manor]

Modern AU Pendletons :D they're going to crush it at the annual yacht club luncheon

Where is Treavor, who was responsible for texting him...

[pandoraroid]

OKAY YOU KNOW WHAT ELSE I NEED

AN AU WHERE EVERYTHING IS THE SAME EXCEPT, MORGAN AND SEER OBSCURA, AND SEERS IN GENERAL ARE THE ONLY EMPOWERED RACE IN EXISTENCE!!!!!

idontknowhowthatwouldwork.giveme.giveittome.

OR EVEN BETTER. enemies to lovers au between them!!! i want them on opposing sides!!! only for them to realize midfight (or something else) that they are possibly the only ones who can understand each other!!!! a fight using nearly all of their power, i'm talking fucking elemental energetic shifting (???), going at it for a looooooooooongg while bc they can just heal themselves, only for them to realize that!!!! they bear the same curse!!!!

possibly inspired by Ma Meilleure Ennemie from the Arcane OST

morgankyneandseerobscurathisvalentinessznisalliaskibeg

[kindercelery]

They hold hands and be sillay I hope

Tyler (the gengar) belongs to @milli-the-silly1

[imaginmatrix]

profound depths, longing seas

part v / xv

Grover seemed to balance out Annabeth’s serious demeanor and Percy’s energetic one with a nervous caution that reeled them both back from doing increasingly stupid things.

Until those occasional instances where he got caught up in the thrill as well, and then it was the three of them being downright silly together with absolutely no voice of reason among them.

percabeth | fairytale au | rated t | childhood friends to lovers

[shrinkthisviolet]

🎭😍🔨😎🥇 for the OC of your choosing please?

🎭: Can you envision your OC in an alternate universe? What au would you choose and what role would they be in that world?

YES absolutely! This tag shows some examples: the Apocalypse (what if Zoom won and Morgan went into hiding) and Supernatural AUs (what if Morgan was a mermaid, what if she died due to the particle accelerator and became a ghost) in particular are my favorites

(it also shows a fantasy/supernatural AU featuring Seer!Reyna that I am so super compelled by. I have been since I made that moodboard/wrote that blurb)

😍: What made you truly fall in love with your OC and made you want to continue their story?

Oooh well writing it was first inspired by me being compelled by her dynamics with Harry and Jesse. Then I realized the former was more interesting if we saw Morgan's dynamic with Eowells, to contrast that, so I started writing the s1 arc and became compelled by Morgan & Thawne's complex relationship, Morgan & Tina's strong relationship, and Barry & Morgan (for reasons I have described ad nauseam 😅).

And ofc, I've fallen more in love with Morgan and James too, as time has gone on, and I adore Morgan & Iris's friendship (expanded further in the last answer).

So really, it's that she has so many interesting relationships, and that she's so very fun to write 💞 especially her development as a hero, which will continue to unfold throughout s1 and s2 (and beyond ofc, but majorly in these first two seasons)

🔨: Are there any whump tropes that you'd love to see your OC's reactions to even though you couldn't or wouldn't put it into your actual story for whatever reason?

I'll answer this one for Lucy (I answered for Morgan here): I'd love to write her being kidnapped by Inquisitors at some point, and either rescued by the gang or saving herself (or a mix of both). It could probably fit between main fics, so we'll see, but currently it's not part of my plans. Lucy deserves to be whumped a little 💞 can't let Morgan have all the fun (granted, Lucy will be whumped anyway, but Morgan's still leading majorly per my current plans for her 😅 I wish I could even it out a little more so Lucy doesn't feel too left out)

😎: Pick one thing about your OC and describe it in detail. (their smile, their eyes, the way they walk, their voice, etc.)

Morgan looks quite a bit like her mom! She has her dad's eyes, but her smile is all her mom's 🥰 it's bittersweet for Tina, who misses her best friends more every day whenever she looks at her precious goddaughter. It helps that she's not the spitting image of either of them, rather a good mix of both, but even so…Tina sees them in her goddaughter's appearance, and even in some of her tendencies.

Though…in regards to behavior that she gets from her mother, that's happenstance (duh, she never knew her mom to inherit behavior from her, she was only a year old when Tess Morgan died). Behavior she gets from her father is…well, it's thanks to Eowells, and that hurts if Tina and/or Morgan think about it for too long

🥇: Pick one aspect of your story that you are particularly fond of. Anything at all

Morgan & Iris! They were originally just gonna be coworkers, and their friendship would develop in 2B onward, but…something about Iris man - you put any character with her and you want them to be friends (at least in my experience). She and Morgan were so sweet and adorable so I wanted to flesh them out more, and I adore them 🥰 it was also the impetus for me bringing Iris into the loop sooner, which is also a plus! And starting them off as close friends will make the transition to sisters-in-law easier

oc ask game!

Taglist (send an ask or DM to be added or removed):

@arrthurpendragon @ocappreciationtag @raith-way @vexic929 @ironverseocs

@thechaoticfanartist @tempests-of-hope @dream-beyond-the-fantasy @negative-speedforce @starstruckpurpledragon

@angst-is-love-angst-is-life

[morganski-19]

The One Where Steve Feels Smart

“Where are Jon and Argyle?” Steve asks Nancy. The rest of the group gathered around the table for their weekly group dinners.

“Jonathan said that he has a lot of work to do, and Argyle is working closing. Said they would try to come later if they could.” Nancy sits at the table, acting as if the information doesn’t bother her.

Steve doesn’t buy it. “I thought Argyle never closed on Fridays.”

“I don’t know,” Nancy shrugs, annoyed. “Maybe he’s covering for someone. It doesn’t matter, so just eat.”

Steve still doesn’t buy it. Jonathan will always use their hangouts as a break, so his eyes don’t try to kill him. Argyle values friendship too much to take a shift during one of their hangouts. If what Steve knew about them was right, though.

But, he decides to ignore it, and eats dinner.

The next week, however, something like this happens again. It’s not an everyday thing that the group gets together at the coffeehouse after work to talk, some can’t justify buying coffee five days a week when they can just make it themselves. But today, everyone is there. Everyone except for Jonathan and Argyle.

“Isn’t it weird that they aren’t here?” Steve asks, mainly to himself. He’s sitting at the bar, bugging Eddie while he’s on shift.

Eddie shrugs, passing a drink across the bar to a customer. “Maybe they’re busy again. Didn’t Jonathan shoot like four wedding in the past two weeks? That’s a lot of editing.”

“But he would bring it here. Especially since Argyle would get off shift,” he looks down at his watch, “an hour ago. They would come in here together and chill with the rest of us.”

“Don’t know man. Maybe they just wanted to stay at home. The weather is kind of shit today.”

It’s never stopped them before. Something else is going on.

The next time it happens, it’s on game night. He asks Nancy if she’s heard from them and gets shut down immediately. Something about the both of them needing to work. Nothing else.

When it keeps happening, Steve starts to get more and more suspicious. Everyone else seems unbothered. Blind to the excuses that mean nothing, and continue on with their lives. When Steve knows that they are hiding something.

He decides to bring it up again when him and Robin are making dinner. Trying to use both their heads to figure this out without Nancy shutting him down immediately.

“You don’t think they finally,” Steve makes a motion with his hands, indicating that they are together.

Robin glares at him from the kitchen. “Probably not, Jonathan’s demi, remember.”

“That is not what I meant,” Steve says, partially annoyed. “I just meant like, dating. What if they are dating.”

“I would hope they would tell us if that actually happened. We’ve listened to too much of their suffering to not know.”

Steve stares at the cutting board. Not so sure about that. “I think Nancy knows something.”

“Here we go,” Robin groans.

“No, Rob, seriously. Like every single time I ask, she shuts me down almost immediately. With the same excuse. Jonathan is busy editing, or has a shoot, and Argyle is working a closing shift. I’ve never known Argyle to have this many closing shifts in his life.” He turns to her, hoping to see that she sees what he sees. “Isn’t that a little weird?”

“I guess,” Robin goes back to stirring the vegetables in the saucepan. “But maybe their rent got raised and they had to pick up a few extra shifts. Wouldn’t be that surprising.”

Steve is still not convinced. “Maybe.”

A week later, the group was planning on going to see a movie. Some weird horror movie that Nancy and Eddie love, but will probably traumatize both Steve and Robin. Normally Jonathan and Argyle would come along and laugh at how unrealistic it is, but they bailed again.

They’ve been bailing for about a month now, something was definitely up.

Steve stands in line to get the popcorn, letting the rest of the group go into the theater to get their seats. Hoping that Eddie is able to save a seat next to him for Steve.

Out of the corner of his eye, Steve sees two people who look familiar. After thanking the guy behind the counter and turning toward his theater, he sees it. Jonathan and Argyle walking in with their tickets. They make eye contact with him, looking caught.

“Well, there you guys are,” Steve says, trying not to make it weird. “I feel like I haven’t seen you guys in weeks.”

“Uh, yeah,” Jonathan says. “Just been really busy with work, that’s all.”

Steve nods, going alone with the lie. “Yeah. I’m glad you guys were able to make it tonight though. Unless, you know, you came to see a different movie.”

Argyle opens his mouth, going to say something. Jonathan nudges him with his shoulder, shutting him up. Argyle presses his lips together in a forced smile. Eyes wide.

“Yeah. We were just going to get some popcorn, so why don’t you go into the theater, and we’ll meet you in there.”

The smile that forms on Steve’s lips is one of pure joy. “I don’t mind waiting. It might be easier to carry all this shit to the theater.” He takes a glace down and sees their hands clasped together. “Four hands are better that two, so.”

“Four hands?” Argyle questions under his breath.

Jonathan looks down at their hands, and pulls them apart.

“You guys weren’t going to see the same movie, were you?” Steve questions. Feeling smug.

“No, we weren’t,” Argyle blurts out. “We were going to see this comedy together because we’ve been dating for a few months now.” He immediately slams a hand over his mouth.

“A few months,” Steve says much louder than he should.

Jonathan starts looking around. “Dude, quiet down.”

“Sorry.” Steve lowers his voice to whisper shout. “A few months. I thought you were just dating for a few weeks.”

“You knew we were dating?”

Steve snorts. “You two are not as subtle as you think you are. Always missing hangouts conveniently at the same time. It’s really rude to cancel on your friends to go on dates for your secret relationship, by the way.”

“We’re sorry,” Argyle apologizes. Looking like he’s going through multiple emotions at once. “We just have been busier with work so the only times we’ve been free to go out are the days we would hang out.”

“You’re not going to tell everyone, are you?” Jonathan asks, hand rubbing at the back of his neck.

Steve shakes his head. “No, it’s your thing to tell. I wouldn’t do that. I just miss you guys. I am still going to gloat about being right, they just don’t need to know what about.”

“Thanks, dude.” Argyle finally calmed down back to one emotion.

“We really appreciate it.”

“I have to go, the movie’s about to start. Have a good night, guys.”

Steve turns and head to the theater. He finds the rest of them and sits between Eddie and Robin. The popcorn immediately getting pulled from his hands.

“What took you so long?” Robin asks over a mouthful of popcorn.

“The line was long,” Steve says. This was going to be fun.

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low,

@thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady,

@apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic,

@fearieshadow, @eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging,

@potato-of-the-lord, @autumncrocusandladybug, @estrellami-1, @ilovecupcakesandtea, @gregre369

@my2amgaythoughts, @ellietheasexylibrarian, @emmabubbles, @eriquin, @grtwdsmwhr

@croatoan-like-its-hot, @dreamercec, @dreamy-jeans137

[regwishesshehadmagic]

Reunion

[kirbybecomesastarwarrior]

ya got any ideas for gawain in your au? came up with a neat oc idea for gawain and the green knight. there's a lot of potential for a cute little monster transformation story seeing as a lot of the mythos features the green knight as being somehow transformed by morgan ^_^

I'm so glad you asked this... I actually had an old concept of this...

After ditching the G.S.A..... Morgan took on another apprentice (after Sir Dragato), "Gawain," and he's come to claim the seat as leader of the GSA.

He knew he wasn't as strong as the other knights... and a part of him always knew he'd never reach the legendary status as the others, so he made a deal with the devil (Morgan). He was her pawn... her puppet to secretly control the GSA in her name.

Gawain was supposed to be Meta's call to action to return & Dragato's "ah- ha" moment (my mentor was a scumbag to me).

But in the end, Gawain (my OC)... I had to cut him from the story. They took away too much from Dragato's storyline... and Meta's call to action is a different one.

So, these are my HCs if Gawain were in "Metamorphosed."

And @camachine, if you want to use it in your story, please feel free, you have my full blessing~

And for those of you who haven't read @camachine's "Metamorphosed" please do so before you keep reading, there will be several references/spoilers. (and it's a good read)

Inspo.

I drew reference from Gawain's original story "Gawain & the Green Knight," his original story... But I also drew from the modern retelling of The Green Knight (2021) the film She's his mother.

This is also considered a continuation of the previous work...minus the Gwynn revival...

Okay, so in "Metamorphosed," Gawain is the nephew of Arthur. The son of his other half-sister (Anna)... another one of Sir Uther's illegitimate kids and Morgan's sister. Yes, their mother cursed the Pendragon's name.

In the OG Arthurian legend, she's called Morgause (sometimes she's called Anna)... and it's too close to Morgan for me, so she's Anna.

This means she cursed the kids too... (Morgan had to get her pettiness from somewhere), however, if they wanted to avoid the curse... they just had to carry out their mother's will.

However, Anna wants to move on and live in peace, so she cuts Morgan out of her life. She married the love of her life (King Lot). She gets pregnant with Gawain and BAM! She dies giving birth to him... (Again, being a Pendragon means you're cursed!!)

King Lot falls into grief: and guess who he blames... baby Gawain! Since then, Gawain has put a lot of pressure on his son from the moment he was born... he would say to his young son, "You better make yourself useful and make yourself worth it..."

From the start, little Gawain had such an innocent desire to just be a great knight... so he could earn the love of his father... but he was never good enough for him... he just needed to be the perfect heir & knight so maybe... just maybe for once, his father to look at him...

No, in fact, his King Lot would deny he even had a son... because it would remind him that his dear wife was gone! As a result, Gawain would hide away in some far part of the castle... so he wouldn't be seen by anyone.

Then, one night, a monster comes and raids the castle... a basilisk (they assume it's one of Nightmare's monsters), but Gawain sees a ghostly figure... a green knight?

Wanting to prove himself, he dives right in to save his father. Everyone else is afraid, but Gawain isn't (well, he is.... but he's not missing out on the chance to prove himself to his father!) He chases after this ghost knight... while Morgan puts out an illusionary spell.

Making it look like this basilisk has killed Prince Gawain instantly (petrifying & swallowing him whole) & King Lot is now full of grief and regret. His son protected him despite all those years of coldness... and still loved him. Desperately wishing he could see his son again and apologize to his son.

Meanwhile, the real Prince Gawian follows the green knight (who is actually Dame Morgan in disguise) into an abandoned castle... and defeats him. (In refer. to the film The Green Knight 2021)

The ghost congratulates him on having their test of bravery and virtue... and says, "Since you've defeated me, you are now the Green Knight... and have earned my axe & title." However, Gawain is not easily convinced "No-no, one ever gets anything for free in this life... that's what my father says..."

Telling himself there must be more to this...The green knight offers it to him three times, sweetening the deal each time: "Along with the axe, I'll give my castle as well, and you'll be the perfect knight that you've always wanted to be..."

Gawain is tempted by each one, but something in his gut tells him not to... just as he's about to leave...the third offer is him something he could never refuse... "You'll get to have a mother again~"

With this... they'll be a family again... THIS IS IT!? Gawain (like in the original tale, Gawain gives into his human desire but "the desire to stay alive,"... it's the desire to see his mother).

Without hesitation, he grabs the axe only to be cursed instantly... As a result, Morgan makes him the"Green Knight..." endowing him with her dark Faye magic (making him into a monster- Basilisk) and in the process, he also loses his memories...

With Morgan rewriting it to this narrative:

Morgan was his mother, and their father abandoned them after he was turned into a monster (by Nightmare). He was afraid to be associated with him because of Sir Uther's regimen in the G.S.A. (and wanted no retribution.) And his cruel father even wanted to prove his allegiance to Uther & the GSA... but his mother wouldn't allow it. His mother saved him from his evil father, and as a result, he (his father) left them. And plans to destroy the GSA and make it a safer world for her and her precious son!

Basically, this gives him (Gawain) reason to hate the Pendragons (Sir Arthur & his family) as well as having unwavering love & loyalty to "his mother," who did everything to protect him because "she loves him so much"~ Plus (him being half-monster) it's a great reason for keeping him from going outside so often so he's not recognized as King Lot's. (The curse altered his appearance, but if you look hard enough, you can see it's Gawain under there.)

Lucky for Morgan... (despite knowing they had a prince)... the kingdom barely knew what the young prince looked like. Only coming out when it was necessary... Gawain did this intentionally so as not to upset his father with his present. (Oh how convenient~)

(Almost if not all) Arthurian interpretations Morgan always uses her kids as tools for revenge... Gawain's no different~

The orange color represents the Lothian Kingdom (King Lot), but after being cursed, the original color is turned red (red - Morgan).

Their name changed to Yvain (In Arthurian lore that is the name of Morgan le Faye) And then his monster form... Basilisk.

According to my source, a basilisk is a "hybrid chicken-serpent" but to make things easier for myself I just keep thinking about one one from Harry Potter (but @camachine feel free to change up the monster form for the guy already.)

But his smaller, default form would be a snake. (Basically, to symbolize he's a "snake" within the GSA.) He'd collect secrets and intel through the walls of the GSA and bring it back to Morgan.

She plans to destroy everything Sir Uther built (the GSA)... with Gawain being her most valuable chess piece. Taking over the GSA and installing him as the new leader... she's more than fulfilling her promise to help become "the perfect knight," she's basically ensuring he'll be that best. (She'll just happen to be rulering through him... Momma's gotta get something outta this!)

Not only that (despite having his memories erased), Gawain's core hasn't changed. He's still the same young lad desperate for love & praise... the thing he's never gotten from his father. And because of that, he was willing to do anything for his dear mother~

It's actually easy for Morgan to be, good to this kid... after all, she's still his auntie... (She's basically Mother Gothel from Rapunzel...)

A part of her is still upset with he sister (Anna) for abandoning her (for not wanting to get involved with their mother's curse). Using her sister's son as her pawn was just her way of getting back at her... dear sister... Speaking of siblings let's talk about Sir Arthur.

After finding out that she had a half-brother, she discovers that Uther actually acknowledged him (Arthur) as his son and denied her as his daughter... UNACCEPTABLE!

So what does she do... make him feel the same jealousy & inadequacy she's felt... all those years Uther denied her. And what does she do... she rubs her loving relationship with her son right in his face... (Kindly remind him of how bad he screwed up his relationship with his son...)

Dame Morgan rolls up with Gawain (now being called Ywain her son), who has just been accepted as one of the higher-ups... since someone got kicked off (Arthur) of the high council.

And how did Gawain manage to get it in such a short amount of time, you may ask?

Remember, our dear Gawain was a prince after all... he still had muscle & instinctual memory of his royal training. was clever, polite, graceful, respectful... (he's everything a prince should be... ) And Morgan can take credit for it all, for raising him so well~

(fake) Mother & son just happened to be off to celebrate, But then she sees Arthur as they're leaving and "OH HOW COULD SHE MISS THIS OPPORTUNITY!"

Sir Arthur (of course, was suspicious)... he never heard of Morgan being married before... let alone having a son. (Especially after flirting with his wife all those years ago...) Plus, this boy looked familiar...

(And he should... Arthur met King Lot and his son... years ago that twice even...)

But Morgan's a grade-A+ actress... and can play "the bitter ex-wife who's still trying to forget about her divorce..." perfectly. And doesn't miss the chance to remind him about his deceased wife Gwynn... who was killed by(Arthur) his own hand. And she ever so gracefully brings up her son... & ever so subtly shows off their bond, rubbing it in Arthur's face.

And Gawain (ever the faithful son) sees what she's doing and allows his mother to fawn over him in public. Even allowing her to call him "her his little apple." A nickname she'd call him ever since he was a little lad (that was his favorite memory of her). (TOO BAD IT'S FABRICATED... :')

I definitely wrote this within the timeline where Arthur stabs Falspar while he was trying to kill Meta Knight and fails... (or this could fit around where Falspar & Dragato leave the GSA after the wedding)

(But move it around wherever you want! :3 )

I'd like to think it's after the stabbing because in the sense Morgan's basically saying: "Oh look, it's my darling son that I love very much! Arthur, what did you do with yours... oh that's right, you stabbed yours... I'd never do that! Look at what you lost! SUCKS TO BE YOU!"

Arthur sees this sweet, touching scene between mother & son, and he can't help but envy them. (Reminding him all too well that he's all alone in the world, because of his own actions.) After successfully guilt-tripping Arthur, the two gleefully leave him in tears. Little did he know Arthur had just let the most dangerous duo in the galaxy slip from his grasp!

At that moment... had Arthur not been wrapped in his own personal problems he could have recognized (if he, looked hard enough) Gawain and saved him.

But even if he did... by then (after the incident,) Arthur's reputation had been already destroyed. Had he not wasted his time accusing an innocent man (Meta Knight) of treason. And now, because of his own decisions, a guilty woman walks free (Morgan), and the galaxy's gonna suffer for it (Dammit, Arthur!)

Despite putting on a "show" she's actually a good (evil) mom... she's supportive, kind, nurturing, loving, but not out of the kindness of her heart. She's merely fulfilling the end of the bargain...

To be still under her spell, Morgan must continue to fulfill her promises to him. Castle (given), perfect knight (taking over the GSA), and loving mother (check).

As long as Gawain believes her to be his mother, then he's forever under her spell. (Because that's what he wanted). He does have the power to save himself (the red flags are all there) once he realizes that he can break free... (but it's not that simple.)

Morgan poisoned his mind, yes, but this is a sweet poison. In the memories she created, he gave him the normal childhood he'd always wanted. A loving mother who adores him he loses that and will have to accept that he was a lonely prince who was ignored most of his life and is hated by his father.

As long as Gawain wants her love, he'll continue to be under her spell.

I wrote in a way that Gawain could save himself if only he'd realize that he doesn't have to be perfect... that he was always worthy of love, and that he doesn't need her (Morgan's) love, and that he was always enough. The spell would be broken!

(The original tale of Gawain & the Green Knight was supposed to represent one's acceptance of human flaws and that one can not be perfect... so that's why it's the key to set him free! SELF LOVE & ACCEPTANCE!)

Or if King Lot can find & recognize his son and snap him out of this mess. After the incident, Lot vowed to find the body of his son... but has yet to find it, so he's holding out hope that he's still alive. But then, again Lotty (King Lot) ... had you just loved your son properly none of this would have happened!

Those are my HC for Gawain, if he existed in "Metamorphosed," @camachine, thank you so much for your question! Even though I had scrapped him from KBASW, I'm so glad I got to revive him for your Kirby (au), it was so much fun! Hope you enjoyed it!

[drmarune]

Josele and Tag

Summary

How Josele discovered Tag is gay this it basically

Josele canty is @loosesodamarble oc

Info:Tag is dyslexic so as I write him like this especially as a child

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Josele and Morgan are talking together

Morgan:I‘m concerned over Tag in the last time……..he hit a young woman in the face…..just because she flirted whit him ok I understand him because it’s whas not the nice type of flirting but you understand?

Josele:hm I believe you Morgan but Tag don’t like too get flirted on as fare I know as long it’s not out of fun…..hm

Morgan:well I hope he will be ok…..

Josele:he will don’t be scared Morgan“smile at him

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Josele whas just walking in the streets as she see Tag whit a other guy in he’s age but bigger

At first she didn’t think much of it but then touching the guy Tag on intim places Tag looked unsure and flustered

This it

Josele attacked the guy wo screamed up and looking at her as Tag looking perplexed at her the guy running then fast of in panic

Josele:are you ok?! He didn’t do something whit you?!

Tag :Wh-What ya creasy Josele?!!??

Josele looking at tag if he is alright

Tag:Why?! I swear I’m ya fine!!!

Josele:are you really ok?! I will protect you!!!

Tag:you don’t ya need!!!

Josele:okay but…. How did this happen whit the guy? Whas he mad at And Nacht for beating him or so???

Tag:he got beaten???From big Bro??? No No Joserel-Josele No we where at making out…“is a little red…….

Josele just staring Tag making out whit a other guy???

Tag see her question face: dear Josele I like guy‘s…….

Josele:what???

Tag:I like guy’s in a romantic and sexy ya way not woman…….

Josele:okay I support you??? This would explain something…….

Tag:thank you??? Don’t tell ya this around people don’t like gay ya gul- guys…..even if my parents are fine whit it…..

Josele:wait you parents know??? And they are fine???

Tag:yes? They are cainda ass€olse but they don’t give a shi€ if m I gay

Josele:wow didn’t see this coming…..but I’m here for you too I promise Tag“smile

Tag smile:thhank you….“smile

Josele smiles back at him:do Morgan and Nacht know???

Tag:No Big Bro‘s don’t know……b-but you can ya tell him I mean Them……..b-but you are fine whit lit? It?

Josele smile at him :of curse Tag you are my friend of curse

Tag smile:thank you

[iamthepulta]

BRIAR AND WESTLIE CAN BE FRIENDS

Tell me about Westlie!

Ah! They might be such interesting friends! Westlie is technically a Sunless Skies/Skyfarer character, so the stats are a little different, but her main skills are Iron and Mirrors.

She grew up as the eldest child of a Skies shipping magnate who wanted a boy, but got two girls, and she was raised as heir to Fairweather Shipping and Co. Westlie has a natural head for numbers, and if her life had been her own, probably would've become a navigator, but clerking was a decent substitute, except for her father's cruelty and ... lax... views of the law.

After some time of watching employees being treated cruelly and her own assertions that his management was wrong, she decided to run away, frantically applied to several skyfarer captains for any sort of position, and was hired as First Mate by Captain Fitzroy of the Pyrrhus.

Her main motivators are stubborn fury at injustice, and a deep-seated belief that nobody should go without the love she did, although she's (very) emotionally stunted and can't communicate that as well as she wants.

She almost always wears a walking skirt and vest, and prefers skirts to pants: partly because Arthur wanted a boy so desperately and femininity is one subconscious way she can strike back, but mostly because she just like skirts.

(In the Liztlie AU, Westlie is 23, and her upbringing and opinions are the same, she just stumbles into adopting a child and her protective nature +extra stuff spur her to leave Fairweather, so there's no Captain Fitzroy and the story stays in London.)