#these idiots sort of inadvertently having each others’ back is my new thing okay

[thetarttfuldickhead]

They’re not quite friends. Not yet.

The January light is distant, and cold. Pale dawn over damp pavements as Jamie pulls his knees higher, and higher, and higher, just ‘cause Roy said so. “Once more,” Roy says, and Jamie doesn’t protest. Does it once more.

Roy doesn’t tell him well done. Roy doesn’t invite him for breakfast. “Go fucking shower,” Roy says, and tells him not to be late for training.

They’re not friends.

February, and if Roy brings a bottle of sports drink to silently hand Jamie once he’s finished with his last bout of jumping jacks that’s still not friendship. That’s… reason. Precaution. Ted will have his ear off if he breaks a player and fucking Tartt can’t be trusted to call it quits before he collapses, so.

In March, weeks after Zava, Jamie scores a brace against Wolves and when he walks off the pitch Roy gives him the tiniest of nods. Hard work paying off; he can acknowledge that. And Jamie nods back, curt, but then – before Roy can look away – there’s a smile growing on his face, bright and wild and—

Roy looks away.

It’s April and Roy goes down with a cold. Doesn’t call his sister, ‘cause she’d be a pain about it, and doesn’t call Ted, because Roy can get away with not doing that, and doesn’t call Keeley, because he doesn’t get to call Keeley anymore.

He doesn’t call Jamie either, because why the fuck would he. They’re not friends. Little prick will be ecstatic for a lie-in.

Painkillers and water and back to his bed and it’s a quarter to five when a furious pounding on his door wakes him once more. The knocking doesn’t cease, no matter Roy’s spat curses, and when he pulls the door open with murder in his mouth there’s Jamie, staring at him with wide eyes.

“Jesus, man,” Jamie says, somewhere between accusatory and alarmed. “The fuck happened to you? I was waiting, but you didn’t—”

“I’m ill,” Roy snaps. The admission should cost him something, maybe, but he manages to turn it around, twist it, and shape shame into admonition.

The bile rolls right off Jamie, who rolls his eyes. “Yeah, mate, I can see that.” He cocks his head to the side, hesitating. “Do you. Um. Can I get you anything? I should get you something, right?”

“No,” Roy say, because fuck no, and what is Jamie even doing here, why does he even—

“I’m making you tea,” Jamie declares, and he pushes past Roy and past Roy’s incensed but fever-weak protests.

They’re not friends, so it doesn’t make sense for Roy not to throw Jamie out, so Roy decides not to think about that as he sinks down on his coach and lets Jamie bring him tea.

Come tomorrow, they can both blame it on the fever.

[anotherwellkeptsecret]

Unfinished Business

(An unfinished ficlet about 6,000 year old idiots learning how to kiss.)

Crowley drained his glass. “Have you?” he asked, punctuating his query with a blithe, “Ever?”

“Ever what?” 

Aziraphale knew exactly what. And Crowley knew he knew exactly what, going by the way his eyebrows were slowly inching up his forehead like twin, fuzzy caterpillars whose souls had shuffled off this mortal coil and were beginning their ascent into the afterlife. 

Aziraphale snapped his book shut as fussily as possible, which was pretty damn fussy. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. 

“You do,” Crowley rebutted. 

Shit. 

Aziraphale spun on his heel. He busied himself with tucking Moby Dick back where it belonged on his desk with the other Melvilles. He could feel Crowley’s gaze bore into his thoracic vertebrae while he stalled, trying and failing to soothe the heart pounding in his chest for no good reason. He flattened his palms against his lapel; a little pat-pat to make sure they were lying neatly. 

“No,” Aziraphale finally admitted. Followed by a defensive, “Have you?”

“Nope.”

Oh. 

Well, that was a surprise. 

Azirapahle glanced at Crowley over his shoulder, assessing. Both of Crowley’s arms were akimbo on the back of the sofa, legs sprawled artfully and--dare Aziraphale think it--invitingly. His ankles crossed and the gleam of his snakeskin boots lambent in the dim light of Azirapahle’s shop.

“I thought that sort of thing was…” Aziraphale twiddled his fingers in an approximation of something or nothing at all. “...a part of your lot’s milieu.” 

“I don’t have a lot. Neither do you.”

“You know what I mean.”

Crowley smirked. “I rather thought kissssing was more of a heavenly affair.” He tilted his head to one side. “Love...” he drawled with a curl of his lip, like the very word was in itself divine, and perhaps it was. “...’n all.”

“Ah.” He had a point. But...

“You don’t have to kiss someone to have sex with them, angel.”

Aziraphale could feel himself turning red. The avatar of his body was betraying him altogether. “I-I know that!” (He hadn’t.) “Sex isn’t always governed by lust, you know.”

“Mmm, was never really my thing.”

Aziraphale blinked.

“Lust,” Crowley specified. 

Aziraphale blinked again.

“Icky.” Crowley smacked his lips, frowning. “Humans. They leave gobs of themselves everywhere. All those fluids and hair and skin!”

“You’re a snake,” Aziraphale reminded him, exasperated. 

“Well, yeah. But that’s…” Crowley shrugged. “...snakey, innit?” 

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. 

Crowley sprang to his feet. He jabbed a finger at Aziraphale, a devilish lilt to his voice when he crooned, “You’re curious.” 

“I am not!” Aziraphale lied. Badly. He scampered away, collecting a stack of books from one organized mess and sorted them into another organized mess on the other side of the room.

Crowley trailed along behind him with his hands stuffed in his pockets. Or as stuffed as they could be in his tight, leather trousers. He followed Aziraphale from one shelf to the next, twisting and turning around a pillar here, a marble bust there, more and more amused by Aziraphale’s bluster and fluster. “You are!” he sing-songed. “I saw you making goo-goo eyes at the lovebirds in the park.” 

Aziraphale blanched. He tripped over a step ladder he never really used anyway. Stupid. Why did he even own such a thing? It wasn’t like he needed it. “I was making eyes, as you so eloquently put it, at the love they were emanating, not--” He tripped again. This time into an entire bookcase, which was something he needed. So focused was he on preventing the impending avalanche, Crowley effectively trapped him against the shelves by the cunning use of what Aziraphale knew to be called leaning. 

“Oh, dear,” he murmured.

Crowley watched him avert his eyes to the ceiling, the floor, and back again. He waited until Aziraphale deigned to look at him. Approximately one minute and ten seconds, which wasn’t that long in the great scheme of things, but a rather ridiculous amount of time not to look at the person standing in front of you. “Do you trust me?” Crowley asked when their eyes finally met.

Aziraphale was offended. Did he trust Crowley? Of course he trusted him! A thousand times--six thousand times--yes! Aziraphale meant to say as much, but ended up squawking instead. And that was rather embarrassing. So he nodded. But he wasn’t happy about it.

“Say it.” A flash of teeth. Equal parts commanding and pleading, which must have inadvertently spirited all the oxygen out of the room because it was suddenly difficult to breathe. And necessary, besides.

Aziraphale swallowed thickly. “Yes.”

Crowley edged closer. Invading his personal space. Not that he’d never done that before. Personal space was all very relative to beings who can will themselves as small as a microbe at any given moment. But still. Right then and there, the air between them hot and humid, it was quite invasive.  

One beat. 

Two.

Neither of them moved.

“Alright?” Aziraphale asked, tentative.

“Yeah--no--” Crowley stammered. He cleared his throat. “I’m fine. Fine. Are you…um...?”

“Fine?”

“Fine, yes.”

“Yes.”

This was absurd.

“You started it,” Aziraphale mumbled.

“I--no--nyrk--look! You wanna do this or not?”

Aziraphale pursed his lips. “I suppose. If it’s you.” 

“Right. Okay, then.” Crowley bullied himself flush against Aziraphale’s chest.

They were nose to nose. Still familiar territory. They regarded each other, a little cross-eyed, and Crowley pivoted ever so slightly to his left so their noses not only touched at their tips, but slotted side by side. Which was very much new. And nice. Soft and warm and they could feel each other’s pulses hammering away uselessly, but somehow unavoidably.

Aziraphale shut his eyes. He wanted to see, but Crowley’s features had gone all blurry. He wasn’t sure he could will his vision to adjust because are those Crowley’s hands on his waist? He licked his lips, nervous, and made the most outrageous yelp when the tip of his tongue met flesh and sweet Jesus and his barefoot apostles. 

Aziraphale had sampled the most exorbitant wine, the most delectable foods the Earth has to offer. No fruit, fermented or otherwise, compared to the brief taste of Crowley’s lip. Whichever one it had been. Sweet and firm and delicious. 

“Sorry,” Azirapahle gasped. It had been an accident even though he liked it.

“No, it’s…” Crowley’s hands kneaded fretfully against his waistcoat. “...do it again.” 

“Okay.” Aziraphale stuck out his tongue. A bit shy. A bit overwhelmed. A bit what-the-Hell. And so he probed, just there, and licked with unrestrained indulgence.

Crowley’s spine went ramrod straight. “Aziraphale,” he spoke the angel’s name like a benediction. And then, “Aziraphale!” Scandalized. Delighted.

Aziraphale squinted open one of his eyes. Then the other. “Did I do it right?”

Crowley had the most annoying and sinfully crooked smile on his face. “You made an Effort!”

“Oh.” Aziraphale sighed irritably. “I had to!”

Crowley was looking at him the exact same way he did when Aziraphale told him he’d given his flaming sword away six thousand years ago. 

“The fit of my trousers just wouldn’t do without the Effort, dear.”

Crowley blatantly stared at Aziraphale’s crotch. “Is it functional?”

“Not sure, really.” 

Crowley gawked at him. 

“It’s simply for aesthetics, mind you. Would you rather I didn’t…?”

“What? I--no--of course! It’s--it’s fine, yes.” 

“Do you have…?”

“Sometimes.”

“Is yours functional?”

“Sometimes.”

Aziraphale was pretty sure he was Falling because his veins felt like they were on fire.

“Would you rather I didn’t?”

“It’s fine.”

“Good. Shall we?” Crowley swooped in close without waiting for a response. Their noses knocked and their mouths pressed firmly together over their teeth, but Aziraphale’s tongue was back where it belonged and Crowley positively melted into the sensation. Sighing, sinking firmly into the spit-plush of Aziraphale’s mouth (before remembering himself), and standing back up to his full height. And, oh. That was rather delicious, that friction, their clothes rucking up and up and yes. Crowley managed to restrain himself, allowing space between their lips once again, and he reveled in the sensation of Aziraphale tonguing right where he used to have a soul patch in the 1590s. Nothing until this moment had made him want to revisit that particular facial hair trend.

“Hath ith?” Azirapahle asked.

“What?”

Regrettably, Aziraphale’s tongue retreated back into his mouth. “How’s this?”

“Great,” Crowley all but sobbed. “Keep going.”

Aziraphale didn’t have to be told twice. Not when it mattered. And his natural curiosity got the better of him. After probing the same spot with his tongue five or six or twenty times (He lost count.), he pursed his lips for just a little sip. He privately thought that Crowley never truly learned how to use his human legs, his hips the fulcrum of his languid and snaking gait. But, standing? Crowley had that down to a science. Contrapposto, mostly, a holdover from the Renaissance, his body striking an S-curve that would put The David to shame. It was an art form, really, so it came as a shock when Crowley’s knees betrayed him altogether.

Aziraphale caught him around the middle. “Are you alright?”

The question was barely posed before Crowley regained his footing and pinned him up against the bookcase hard enough to send a few volumes toppling to the floor, saved in the nick of time by a quick snap of Crowley’s fingers.

“Do that again,” he demanded, almost frantic. 

If Azirapahle thought there had been no space between them before, he was sadly mistaken. Crowley nuzzled their mouths together, curtailing a desperate whine with an explosive sigh the moment Aziraphale sandwiched Crowley’s philtrum between his lips and suckled just so. 

“Oooh.” Crowley almost sounded in pain. “Fuck me.” 

Aziraphale pulled off Crowley’s lip with a wet pop that seriously did things to Crowley in places he didn’t even know he had. “W--really?”

“No! I mean, yes! But no. Later. Kissing now.” Crowley bit down on Aziraphale’s bottom lip and tugged. Not quite sipping, but just as good. If not better. And there was Crowley’s forked tongue drawing him in and further in. His teeth sharp in the best possible way, followed by a massive slurp that had Aziraphale’s eyes rolling back in his head before Crowley released him. 

Aziraphale boggled, wide-eyed and panting. He was surely going to discorporate. “Oh, my God!” 

“Don’t bring Her into this.”

Both of them glanced overhead.

No, best not to call upon the Almighty in flagrante. 

“So that’s what all the fuss is about.”

“I’d say so, yeah.” 

Aziraphale was on him in a flash, drinking greedily at his lips, one after the other, and Crowley absolutely refused to wait his turn nicely. Because he wasn’t. Nice, that is. Not even a little bit. That was the good thing about being a snake, he thought, unhinging his jaw just enough to devour Azirapahle’s mouth and they both moaned in unison at the feel of hot, wet heat and breath and slick and fuckfuckfuck!

A sudden gust of wind, a loud FWHUMP. The sound of a lamp smashing to the floor, maybe.

Crowley’s wings were fanned out behind him. He was gasping for breath like it was something he needed to live, fingers wound tight in Aziraphale’s coat. “Fuck,” he said. 

“We need to slow down.”

Crowley snarled, “Any slower and I swear I’m going to literally explode.” 

[afterspark-podcast]

G1 Episode 43: Transcript

[This can also be found on AO3!]

[Stinger]

O: This is not an exaggeration, everybody dies.

[Intro Music]

O: Hello, and welcome to the Afterspark Podcast, an episode by episode recap of the Generation 1 Transformers cartoon. I'm Owls!

S: And I'm Specs.

O: And today we're going to be talking about episode number 43: The Golden Lagoon. Let's talk about giant robots today, shall we?

S: Yep.

O: And today we open with the Autobots walking along a beach and Perceptor finding a rock.

S: And proceeding to nerd out about said rock and its unique properties.

O: The rock has both elements of gold and silver in it.

S: We've struck it rich!

O: [Laughter] 

S: Blitzwing orders Thrust and Ramjet to attack the group of Autobots looking at Perceptors rock, so, yeah, these guys have been lurking somewhere in the background.

O: I have to ask you- or- do they want the gold and silver? Because my good dudes, you just need to sell some, like, patents and shit and you'd be probably all set money-wise. 

S: Bragging rights, maybe? I mean, these guys seem like the sort of dudes that would just go and pick up a mini bot and, like, shake him upside down to get his lunch money.

O: Okay, but you just imagine they basically go back to base they're like, “We stole Perceptor's rock!” 

S: Well, possibly, “We stole Perceptor.”

O: Well, yes, I know but I'm just imagining him just stealing the rock. So, uh, Powerglide takes to the air to fight Thrust.

S: Meanwhile, Ramjet can't win in a fight against a hoverboat, as Seaspray both outmaneuvers him and drives him into the drink.

O: Then we get some tank-on-tank action as Blitzwing takes on Warpath.

S: Oh, Preceptor calls for Beachcomber's aid but apparently Beachcomber has bailed on this fight. I mean, the vibes were just getting him down, man.

O: Beachcomber exits some sort of cave that he apparently entered and then basically enters a lush, verdant hidden glade he calls a paradise.

S: I want to know why no one can see this from the air because this is very visible from the air- you can see the sky.

O: Yeah, like there- and I think what makes this even funnier is, like, at the start of this fight there were literally no less than four fucking planes in the air. 

S: Yep, so our robotic Dr. Dolittle, Beachcomber, speaks birb, fox, deer, bunny, and, somehow, armadillo. 

O: He's even able to pet the deer. I- do you know how skittish those fuckers are?

S: Super skittish. Beachcomber ignores his communicator and investigates a nearby small lake. A small, suspiciously colored lake. 

O: There's no good way to be delicate about this, guys. It's urine colored. 

S: Beachcomber, throwing caution and common sense to the wind, dips his entire hand into it. 

O: It turns gold and he exclaims that, “It's electrum!”

S: We'll get back to this later.

O: [Laughter] Moving right along.

S: Back in the fray, Ramjet gets his revenge coming out of the water underneath Seaspray.

O: The two tanks have to unbury themselves from the sand they have, apparently, inadvertently got buried in.

S: Yep, it looks like everyone's having a pretty bad beach day all around.

O: And then the ground around Beachcomber, in his said hidden glade, begins shaking and he transforms and heads back into the tunnel that he had entered the glade from.

S: Surprised that, uh, things didn't end badly for any of the critters, but I think he would have been very distraught.

O: Probably.

S: As if prophesized, Thrust spots the lake from the air and lands to examine it.

O: He decides he wants to be the shiniest and dives into the lake, turning him completely gold.

S: The Midas touch of robots and also how deep is this stupid thing?

O: Oh, yes, we get- we comment on that later. [Laughter] Beachcomber makes it back and Perceptor is understandably a little frustrated that he had bailed in the middle of a freaking fight.

S: Seaspray is able to shoot Ramjet down but Thrust arrives, seemingly invulnerable, with his fancy new gold coating.

O: None of which stops Perceptor from trying to shoot him with his handy-dandy hand missile.

S: The Autobots attempt different attacks against Thrust but eventually flee, leaving Perceptor and Seaspray behind. 

O: Thrust miraculously grows what we can only describe as claws and then scoops Perceptor up while in jet mode and flies off with him.

S: It's honestly pretty silly looking, if I remember right.

O: Yeah, it looked pretty silly. 

S: Yeah, Perceptor and Seaspray are brought to the Con base. Megatron gloats and Thrust is like, “Hey, guys, I found a ton of electrum.”

O: And then Starscream says he needs proof of Thrust’s claim but Megatron responds with, “I don't care what you need.” You know, it's been a while since I was- I feel like it's been a while since when you've seen these two idiots bicker like this.

S: Yeah, because they didn't really do it during the, um, shoot, the Constructicon brainwashing thing.

O: Yeah, like, you know, normally, I felt like that was a situation where they'd start bickering but instead Megatron was like, “No, no, no, sweetie, we've got an escape route.”

S: [Laughter] Yep, so, yeah, Megatron and Starscream bicker further as they arrive at the electrum fountain.

O: Megatron volunteers Starscream as the first test subject for the electrum.

S: Starscream seems, you know, quite hesitant, dipping one foot into the water until Megatron tells him to, “Go!” And then Starscream proceeds to jump in like a six-year-old: holding his nose and doing a weirdly adorable cannonball. 

O: It is very, very stupidly cute.

S: Mm-hmm.

O: And then Starscream exits and I'm pretty sure Megatron just wanted an excuse to shoot him in the face here.

S: Yeah, yeah I totally agree and, like Thrust, Starscream is invulnerable, even to fusion cannon blasts once he's got his shiny gold coat.

O: The other two Seekers and Megatron jump into the hole, too.

S: And once they're all back out they all proceed to shoot each other to test out their invulnerability.

O: In a shot that truly looks like a rave party.

S: It does- like, there's lots of lasers and glowy lights and everyone's just kind of flailing around like twits. 

O: And it really cracks me up because, I swear to god, the first thing that happens when Megatron gets out of the pool is Starscream shoots him in the face and laughs. 

S: The poor animals are cowering as all of these shots bounce off the Cons and bounce out into the glade itself doing, you know, lots of damage.

O: As you would expect from giant robot fucking lasers. Elsewhere, a group of Autobots prepare a rescue mission.

S: The group is comprised of Warpath, Powerglide, Smokescreen, Beachcomber, and Mirage. 

S: Beachcomber has not told anyone about the electrum spring and is hiding his gold hand. Then, of course, we cut back to the Cons who, we see, have all taken a dip in the electrum.

S: When giant robots go swimming does this count as skinny dipping? Are they now considered to be wearing something if it's a coating?

O: I just have one thing to say to you: GOLDMEMBER!!!

S: Oh god. So all of these, you know, spruced up Cons attack the rescue party.

O: Obviously the Decepticons continue to not take any fucking damage right now.

S: Yep, Mirage turns invisible and heads back for some reinforcements and then, uh, Smokescreen generates smoke and Megatron shows off his problem-solving skills.

O: With enough bullets you can solve anything! Or at least hit Smokescreen in his cloud of smoke.

S: Yep, and the entire group of Autobots is captured, save for Mirage who did make it back to base and rallied reinforcements.

O: The Autobot reinforcements don't seem to be too worried about the invulnerable Cons at all with Sunstreaker's response boiling down to, “Hit them harder!”

S: Yep, he's not thinking with his head there, is he? He's taken out almost immediately and ends up upside down in car mode.

O: So I'd say he didn't hit them very hard, wouldn't you?

S: Well, did more damage to him.

O: So, as their shots continue to bounce off the cons, Beachcomber says that, “They found the Golden Lagoon!”

S: That's not a lagoon. A lagoon really needs to be connected to an oc- to the ocean or some other body of water. I mean, that was a glorified puddle.

O: At best. 

S: Yeah.

O: At the Decepticon base, Starscream is mugging for the camera, singing the praises of electrum.

S: Seaspray and Perceptor, as entertainment, are made to fight each other.

O: Soundwave’s like, “Yo, this is not sanctioned by HR,” to Starscream. 

S: You did not do the paperwork or get the approval for this, Starscream, at all.

O: Nope. And Starscream just sort of waves him off and doesn't seem to care what Megatron's gonna think.

S: Soundwave leaves the room presumably to report Starscream’s aft for HR violations.

O: The few remaining Autobots then ask Omega Supreme for help while Beachcomber heads back to the lagoon.

S: Perceptor and Seaspray shoot out a wall and attempt to escape but are stopped at the elevator when Megatron exits with Blitzwing and Beachcomber.

O: Because if we didn't specify before, Beachcomber got captured when he returned to the lagoon.

S: Yeah.

O: Megatron gets pissy at Starscream for his insubordination and says that he gets the honor of getting chucked into battle against Omega Supreme first. 

S: Even Omega Supreme's blasts are unable to damage the Cons, unfortunately.

O: So, really wasn't much of a punishment. Megatron wants to finish Omega off personally and considering he and Starscream are bickering this episode it's Soundwave that gets the honor this time- go around.

S: Yep, one shot from Megatron's alt mode knocks Omega on his back. 

O: When we return from the commercial break Starscream is standing on top of Omega Supreme, like a big game hunter after a kill. 

S: Yeah, Starscream does not have much in the way of taste.

O: Taste, tact, subtlety... 

S: Yeah, back at the Autobot base, Teletraan I warns the Autobots about electrum and Optimus orders survey teams to be sent out to find it.

O: Powerglide drags his ass out of the water back onto the beach from the beginning of the episode and spots the Cons flying to the Golden Lagoon.

S: He reports back to Prime and then we cut to the Decepticon base.

O: Megatron tells Starscream he can do whatever he wants with the Autobot prisoners. 

S: Skywarp enters Beachcomber’s cell but Beachcomber gets the drop on him and incapacitates both him and Thundercracker... Beachcomber: stealth geologist. Because he was- he was, like, clinging to the ceiling?

O: Like, my boy, you got skills!

S: He does, he does.

O: He then releases Perceptor and Seaspray and they attempt another escape.

S: And at this point they have stolen, uh, some null rays or... the guns the Seekers wear on their arms.

O: Yeah. 

S: This time they succeed because Seaspray is very well suited to be in the water.

O: And the three arrive back at the golden puddle just in time for Longhaul to dump a bunch of empty barrels on Dirge and tell him to fill them up.

S: Everyone's pushing work on everyone else. Dirge is not happy about being left to guard the electrum by himself but he doesn't get very much time to explain or complain about anything as Seaspray pulls him into the bushes.

O: All the scientists are feral this episode and I, for one, love it. 

S: Yup. Perceptor and Seaspray steal both of his guns. 

O: Thankfully, Optimus and co arrive just afterwards. 

S: Then it's time for the ~Autobot pool party!~

O: As they, too, jump in and get all glammed up.

S: The Decepticons realize they've been duped when the Ark is empty and filled with dummies and not even the interesting moving, clothed dummies that, like, were at the beginning of the series.

O: And, no, not the Dinobots, either. 

S: Yep, I think they'd get along with, um, Beachcomber. though.

O: I would hope so, I don't know if we ever really see them interact though?

S: I don't, either, I just- I think they would get along- I think that would be a fun team up to watch.

O: Yeah. 

S: Ah, so the Decepticons turn around and head back for the Golden Lagoon only to arrive to find some glammed out Autobots, including a whole-ass Omega Supreme.

O: I don't even know how they managed that.

S: I guess the water must be really deep because he comes straight out of it.

O: I guess?

S: Or crouched in it?

O: It does not make any sense. Uh, predictably, a fight ensues. Of course, no one's shots are doing anything and further bouncing off of them.

S: And lighting the surviving enviro- the surrounding environment on fire, that wasn't already trashed.

O: The electrum on the Decepticons begins to wear off and the battle changes in favor of the Autobots.

S: Yep. Megatron, much like a toddler, decides that if the Cons can't have the lagoon then they're going to blow it the shit up on their way out. Ah, this reveals that the lagoon was pretty wide but honestly not that deep. Like it certainly wasn't deep enough for Omega Supreme to go sit in it or, frankly, I don't even think that, like, Starscream should have been able to like dive in there?

O: Yeah, I don't know what was going on with this, but the Cons retreat and we end with Beachcomber looking very sad in the destroyed glade.

S: And the music that's happening here really does not match the somber mood.

O: Yeah, because it sounds, like, hopeful and kind of happy. You know, normal end-of-the-episode music.

S: Yeah.

O: That's it for this episode so join us next time for Quest for Survival!  Where Autobots are in desperate need of a gardener and poor Cosmos is stuck in a very unfortunate situation.

S: Yep, some things need some trimming and poor Cosmos is a bit- a bit caught in the middle, yeah. So, today we have two fanfic recommendations. The first is “Favorable Contributions” by Tiamatschild, which is set in the G1 cartoon continuity. It's rated K, it's Gen (more or less) but pairing-wise: it's a Beachcomber and Perceptor, and our characters are Beachcomber and Perceptor. In summary, “Knowing Beachcomber is fraught with peril. Embarrassing peril.”

O: [Laughter]

S: So, yeah, uh, the theme here is it's Beachcomber in nature! Sometimes embarrassing. And it's a one shot. This was something that I read a while ago and it's- it's cute and it's fun and there may or may not be an alligator involved. Or possibly a crocodile? Giant robots getting treed by a big reptile, anyway.

O: Well, we know- do know giant reptiles are their biggest weakness if the dinosaur episode where the Decepticons were getting mowed down is any indication.

S: Yeah, very much so. And the second recommendation is “One Step At A Time” by one_starry_night. Continuity: it's a G1 cartoon continuity, it's rated K, Gen, there are no pairings and the characters are Beachcomber, Perceptor, Powerglide, Warpath, and Seaspray, though Seaspray doesn't really say anything, he's just hanging out. And this is specifically following the events of the Golden Lagoon. In summary, “Perceptor figures out a way to cheer Beachcomber up.” 

And I picked this one because it's an episode follow-up which- Beachcomber getting some closure would be nice.

O: Right!? Right!? Instead of him just being sad.

S: Yep. And this one is a one-shot, so let's go over to Owls.

O: All right! Our fanartist for today is Sarah Stone or Fayren, they do Prime the- the stuff I'm recommending, anyway, is mostly Prime fanart but they are actually an official artist from the IDW Windblade run which is very, very pretty if you have not seen it and I do recommend reading it. Um, Starscream is a bastard but hopefully you're used to that at this point.

S: Yeah.

O: Um, as I said we've only linked some Prime fan arts. Uh, we have a collection of Decepticons in glasses.

S: Nice.

O: And then we have a humanformer Soundwave which might be my favorite humanformer Soundwave design. It's his design from Prime and he kind of looks like a weird sci-fi mage-y thing. It looks neat. Uh, complete with a- with an actual bird Laserbeak. And then, uh, we have Ratchet and, uh, Knock Out in a fight. 

S: Knock down, drag out doctor fight.

O: Apparently.

S: Yeah, they just they both look like they're going to trash each other.

O: Oh yeah, she is a fayrenpickpocket on Deviantart and IInstagram. She is just fayren on Twitter and then on Tumblr- her Tumblr is monsterboysandrobots although, be warned, she has not updated there in over two years, so. I think she's still fairly active on Instagram and Twitter, if you do want to follow her, I would check there first. Any other links will be available on our Tumblr.

S: Yep, and just- I would like to note that her colors are gorgeous.

O: They are. I-I was trying to figure out because I couldn't remember if she did the colors for the Windblade run or if somebody else was the colorist. We can't remember but the colors are super gorgeous in the Windblade run. It's part of why it's so pretty.

S: Yes.

O: Um, so if she didn't do it, whoever the colorist was for that one did a fantastic job.

S: Yeah.

O: Also, you know, just side mention, the cutest Waspinator in existence is in that run, I just want you all to know this.

S: She does have a very cute Waspinator.

O: He's a fuzzy boy!

S: And that just about wraps it up for us today.  Remember to check us out on Tumblr or Pillowfort as Afterspark-Podcast for any additional information, show notes, or links we may have mentioned.  You can also find us on Facebook and Twitter at AftersparkPod (all one word) and various other locations by searching for Afterspark Podcast such as AO3, iTunes, Spotify, and Youtube, just to name a few.  And feel free to send us questions on Tumblr, Youtube, or AO3!  Till next time, I'm Specs.

O: I’m Owls.

S: Toodles.

[Outro Music]

[need-a-fugue]

We Grow Together (19)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Tessa Sullivan (OFC)

Chapter Summary: A cold, a fight, and a rather protective Bucky...

Summary: Relationships can be tough, especially when one person is a recovering-from-being-brainwashed-and-tortured former assassin and the other is an overworked mutant scientist. But hey, every couple has their struggles. Right?

They’ve been home for just about a week now and their vacation from the everyday already seems like a distant, hazy memory.

After reuniting with everyone that first night back, and sharing their misadventures over pizza and beer, they quickly settle back into their routines. For Bucky, that means helping Natasha train Sam and Wanda in hand-to-hand, which is actually way more fun than he’ll ever admit. In part it’s great because the Widow is a worthy adversary – and she sure as shit can take a punch – so the two can tussle all day long without having to go easy on each other. And in part it’s great because it means that Bucky gets to beat up on Sam – daily – without any guilt. Because it’s all in the interest of making him better and building the best team possible.

When he’s not training, he’s working with Steve to bring in potential new recruits. That job’s not quite as fun and exciting, but it’s important. And it keeps him busy. Or it keeps him at least somewhat occupied so that he feels like he’s finally doing something. He’ll take that for now.

As for Tessa, the moment they arrived back at the compound, she scurried off to the lab – just to check in – and he’s barely seen her since. Actually, he’s pretty sure that the pizza they shared that first night back was the last meal they’d had together.

She came home last night after a trip into the city sniffling and coughing and looking generally awful – It’s cold and flu season… And everyone is sick – and went to bed around eight. So he’s not at all surprised when he wakes the next morning to the scent of freshly brewed coffee and the sound of a terrible, hacking cough coming from the other room. He groans to himself and turns his face down into the pillow for a long moment before finally rolling out of bed.

“Just tell him I’m on my way in,” he hears her say as he pads into the kitchen. Her voice is gravelly and thick as she issues a “yeah, fine,” into the phone before hanging up and slamming the cell down onto the counter. Her eyes close as she leans over the countertop and rests her head on the cabinet in front of her.

“I can hear you wheezing from here,” he tells her, leaning in the kitchen doorway.

She doesn’t turn around, barely even moves except for the slight shrug of her shoulders. “Max is… being Max,” she says defeatedly.

“And that means you have to go in and straighten shit out?”

She nods, her forehead rubbing along the smooth wood grain of the cabinet door. “After coffee.”

He exhales, long and loud before moving across the room to the coffee pot. He reaches up and pulls two mugs out of the cabinet, dumps some sugar in one, and fills them each with the dark, steamy liquid. She turns to him, exaggerated frown on her face, and reaches over to pull her mug across the counter. The fact that she doesn’t remove her head from the cabinet, or seem to have the strength to lift her mug up to bring it to her, is just so over-the-top pathetic that he has to work to keep his amusement from showing.

“Have you eaten anything?” he asks, already knowing the answer. She shakes her head and tries to stifle a particularly wet-sounding cough. “C’mon,” he says with a sigh. “C’mere.”

She practically falls into him when he reaches for her, her head curling into the crook of his neck as her arms wrap around his lower back. “I’m okay,” she grumbles into him, and he can’t help but laugh.

“That was convincing.” She pulls away and looks up at him with a fiery glare. “You look like crap,” he tells her, small smile still on his face.

Her head drops to his chest and in the most pathetic voice possible she croaks out, “You’re mean.” The chuckle that reverberates through him and into her causes the corner of her mouth to quirk up just slightly. But the almost smile completely disappears the minute her phone starts buzzing next to them.

He groans loudly and wraps his arms tighter around her. “Ignore it.”

But that’s just not going to happen. Her entire demeanor shifts when she pulls away from him. “Claire?” she says into the phone, an irritated rather than pitiful look on her face. “Claire, just tell him – ” She twists on her heel to look Bucky in the face, rolls her eyes and quirks her jaw side to side in that way that means she is damn fed up. “Alright!” she snaps suddenly. “Give me five minutes. For fuck’s sake…” And she hangs up the phone and marches angrily out of the kitchen.

He follows her to the bedroom where she quickly strips down out of the shorts and T-shirt she’d worn to bed and pulls on a pair of jeans in an enraged sort of huff. “What are you doing?”

She spins in a circle, her eyes scanning the room for something. But the motion makes her dizzy and she has to drop her hand to the bed to regain balance. “Where are my shoes?”

“How ‘bout a shirt, doll?”

She glances back to find him standing in the doorway, arms folded across his chest. He’s got his eyebrows raised as he assesses her in that are you serious right now? way of his. Instead of confronting the look, she reaches down and picks up the T-shirt she just shed and pulls it back over her head. That would do for now. She sees her shoes by the closet, so she quickly grabs them and heads for the door. But Bucky doesn’t move, his muscular frame blocking her path.

“What are you doing?” he asks again, as though he doesn’t know the answer.

“I have to go to the lab.”

“You’re sick.”

“I’m fine.”

“Thirty seconds ago you were acting like you were at death’s door.”

She purses her lips tightly together. “I have to go. Please move.”

He unfolds his arms, but doesn’t step aside. Instead he brings his metal palm up to her forehead. The temperature sensors tell him the same thing that her inadvertent lean into him does. “You have a fever.”

His hand feels so good on her face that she almost relents and leans further into it. But Max is refusing to put together the report that Tony needs today. And Donahue is threatening to quit because he doesn’t feel like he’s valued, whatever the hell that means. And the holographic interface is on the fritz again. And Claire can’t deal with any of it because it’s only my job to make you aware of these things, not to fix them. So she shakes him off and levels him with her most intimidating stare. “You need to move.”

In the span of about five seconds, the look on his face shifts from concerned to disappointed to pissed off. “You’re a doctor,” he spits out at her, as though that should be enough for her to realize that you don’t head into the office when you have a fever.

“Exactly. I’m a doctor. And I’m telling you, I’m fine.”

“You’re so full of shit,” he says with a sardonic laugh. But he moves out of her way just the same, cocking his head in the direction of the hall as he gives her just enough space to squeeze past him. “You’re an idiot.”

She slides into the kitchen on socked feet, her sneakers still in her hand, and grabs her full cup of coffee to take with her to the lab downstairs. When she turns to head out, she finds him standing in the kitchen doorway. “Are you going to block every door in the building?”

He gives her an irritated look, his patience more than wearing thin. But he doesn’t actually block her path, instead he holds up a banana for her. She wrinkles her nose, but grabs it from his hand as she passes. “Eat it,” he grumbles at her, the angry command being the last thing she hears before slamming the apartment door.

000

When she gets back about five hours later, she looks just terrible. “It’s your own damn fault,” he tells her when she collapses on the couch beside him.

He wants to be mad at her, might still be if he hadn’t gone and worked the bag for a couple hours before sparring with Sam. But he’s finding it really hard to be anything other than concerned once she curls up into him and says lamely into his side, “I know.”

She lets loose with a coughing fit so bad that he can feel her body seize up next to him. He sets down the book he’d been reading – The Art of War, a gift from Natasha – and pats her back to help her through it. When it’s over, she’s left completely out of breath. He scoots down so that he’s laying down next to her and he wraps his right arm around her middle. “Did you take anything?” he asks as he brings his metal hand up to her face.

Just as he assumed she would, she curls into it, closing her eyes as he traces over her cheekbone with his thumb. “I took some Tylenol when I got down there.”

Her voice sounds just awful, but she doesn’t feel as hot as she did this morning, so he figures she’s probably telling the truth. “You should take some more.”

“I thought I was the doctor.”

He smiles softly as she looks up at him with glassy eyes. “I can run you a bath. The steam will help.”

She shifts down further between him and the couch cushions and nods. “In a minute, maybe.” She lets out a ragged sigh as she settles in deeper. “I think I need to get rid of Max.”

Tessa and Max have had a contentious relationship for as long as he’s known her. But she had always talked about how brilliant he was and how his ideas are magic. They seemed a lot like Tony and Steve to him – not at all on the same page about most things, but still working well together to complete the report. “Can you do that?”

“Yeah,” she says with disdain. “It’s my lab. I’m in charge.”

“Didn’t Tony hire him?”

“It’s my lab.” She lets out a huff as she hoists herself into a nearly sitting position, hovering over him when she says. “He doesn’t respect me. He’s interested in the work. But he doesn’t respect the work. And honestly, he doesn’t really seem to want to work.”

Bucky shifts into a sitting position as well so they can be eye to eye. “Then cut him loose.”

“I am sick,” she starts, seemingly ignoring his comment. “But I still came in today. I came in to fix his problem and do the work he couldn’t be bothered to do.” Her voice rises and starts to hit octaves that are so high that it comes out in pathetic sounding squeaks. “I am there every day. Every day. And I do it while also taking care of all you idiots and building a new med team and… doing whatever else Tony asks.” He watches as her eyes begin to tear up, and not just from sinus congestion. “I mean, I know I can be a pain. I know. But…” she stops suddenly and looks over at him. “Do you think I have a stick up my ass?”

Admittedly, he’s caught off guard by the question, but he can see how upset she is, so he quickly stifles the chuckle rising in his throat. “No, I don’t.”

“Well, Max does. And he says that’s why Donahue wants to leave. To get away from Dr. CBC.” She pauses and begins picking at a loose thread on the hem of her shirt. “That’s what they call me,” she says with such a despondency that it very nearly breaks his heart.

“What does it mean?” He reaches out and tucks some loose strands of hair behind her ear.

She sniffles. “You don’t want to know.”

“Try me,” he says, his voice growing harsh. Tessa may be stubborn and demanding, and he’s sure she’s as hard on the people she works with as she is on herself. But she’s also the most genuinely caring person he’s ever known. All of her research has been to help others – to find cures for diseases that ravage entire populations, or to create adequate genetic testing to be able to catch illness in its earliest stages. And she cares for the Avengers and adjacent personnel, always dropping everything to run to their aid when any of them are sick or hurt, even though there are other physicians on the team who could treat them. And the way she talks about her people, the pride she has in them, the admiration she feels for them… how could they possibly call her names behind her back?

She looks at him for a long moment, clearly assessing whether or not she should tell him. The fact that she’s so hesitant to say what it means, makes his jaw tense and his stare harden. “Controlling Bitch Cunt,” she says finally, looking back down at her hands.

His face twists in anger. “Excuse me?” And he almost knocks her off the couch as he jumps up. “Who exactly called you that?”

She can almost feel the rage radiating off of him, and she immediately regrets telling him anything. In her mind, telling him was just going to ensure that at least one person would be on her side. She knew he’d be angry, but the angry reaction he was sure to have would simply reinforce the righteous anger and hurt that she feels.

But she should have known it wouldn’t be that simple. Not with James. He isn’t just some regular guy who’d get pissed about his girl being insulted and then fume while mumbling threats and curses under his breath. No, the man standing before her was someone who was capable of, and seemingly willing to do, much more than that.

She shakes her head absently. “It’s a joke. Really. It’s a play on words.” She looks up at him and sees his nostrils flare. He quirks his head to the side as if to say, Did I just hear you right? “CBC,” she says with forced enthusiasm. “Complete Blood Count. It’s a test, you know?” He continues to stand completely still, looming over her in a way that’s making even her nervous and uncomfortable. So she turns away when she says, “I think they just had the first C, which is fine. I am controlling. I know that. And really I can be a bitch. A real bitch. I know that too.”

“Stop it.” The words come out deep and slow and through gritted teeth. She doesn’t even recognize it as being his voice. In their nearly two years together, he’s been achingly careful to keep anything remotely resembling the soldier away from her. Aside from that one terrible night when he hadn’t even really been awake or aware enough to keep him at bay, the closest she’s come to seeing the soldier was when they were in Sokovia. But that one awful night she was half asleep herself, and too concerned for him to see the threat. And in Sokovia the world was ending, so she wasn’t paying much attention to his overall demeanor.

But this… this quiet rage… this certainly seems like the man she’s heard so much about.

“James,” she starts, taking a sharp inhale and closing her eyes to avoid looking at his stony face. “I’m sorry.” She shakes her head and feels tears stinging behind her eyes. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I don’t even care about the nickname. It’s stupid. I’m just angry. And tired. And I can’t breathe. And…” The tears start to squeeze their way out of her tightly closed eyes and she bites back a sob so suddenly that she nearly chokes on it.

He’s back by her side in a second, pulling her close and rubbing soft circles into her back with his right hand. “Shh, baby,” he whispers to her as he tucks her head into the crook of his neck. “It’s alright.”

He can feel her hot tears on his shoulder as she mumbles into him, “Don’t be mad.”

He pulls back and places his hands on her shoulders, ducks his head a bit to capture her red rimmed eyes with his own. “I’m not mad at you,” he says, a hint of shock to his voice. “Do you think I’m mad at you?” She shakes her head, but he sees hesitation in her eyes and a hint of… fear? Oh. Oh crap. His hands make their way up to her face, cupping her cheeks. “Do you think I’m going to hurt them?” he asks quietly as he uses the pads of his thumbs to swipe at her tears.

“No,” she says firmly, shaking her head as much as she can while he still has a hold on her.

“I don’t want anyone to talk about you like that. Not anyone. Not ever. And I’m going to go down there and tell them that,” he says, the dark, steely quality permeating his voice once more.

“No,” she interjects firmly.

But he continues on as though she hadn’t spoken. “But I wouldn’t hurt them. That’s not me. Not anymore.” He says the words, thinking they’re true, though a voice in the back of his head reminds him that he doesn’t really believe they are, not completely anyway. He absolutely could and would be the kind of person who would hurt them, or anyone else who messed with his girl. But it kills him to think that she’d see him as the kind of man who would harm someone – or kill someone – over a workplace spat and some nasty name calling. “You believe me, right?”

“I know,” she says before falling into a coughing fit. He rubs and pats her back to ease her through it. When it’s over, she looks up a him, her gaze fierce despite the tears still glistening in her eyes. “You can’t go down there, though,” she tells him. “I can’t have my big, scary boyfriend go fight my battles for me.”

“Your battles are the only ones I want to fight.”

“James,” she starts, her breath still catching. “Jamie… just let it go.”

He understands what she’s asking, of course. If he goes down there and talks to them, then her authority is shot. But he was also raised to believe that you stand up for the people you love, especially the woman you love. You protect her with everything you’ve got. And if anyone hurts her, in any way, you put them in their damn place. “Are you going to fire him?” he asks finally.

“Probably.” She leans her head back down on his shoulder and he feels her shiver. “I’ll need to talk to Tony. But I just don’t want to think about it now. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“I want you to talk to me about the things that bother you. I want you to tell me if someone, or something, upsets you.” This is a conversation they’ve had many times before. Because as much as either of them complains about having had a rough day at work or being fed up with a colleague, somehow her stories and complaints always seem to end without any details about what actually happened or what’s really bothering her. He used to think that she just wanted to compartmentalize and keep work at work and home at home, but now he’s wondering if it might be more than just that. “You know you can do that, right? Talk to me about things?”

She nods into him. “I know. I know. But I honestly feel like shit right now.” She sniffles once before letting out another round of deep coughs.

“Okay,” he says rising from the couch and pulling her with him. “Let’s get you into a bath.” He drops her hand once they’re up and heads into the large hall bath. “Go take some more Tylenol and I’ll run the water.”

She moves so slowly that the deep soaking tub is nearly full by the time she enters the bathroom. “You gonna join me?” she asks with a tired wink as she slips off her jeans.

“No,” he says with a smile. “It’s not that kind of bath. This is a relaxing, healing bath.” He helps her with shirt before leaning back over to turn off the faucet. “Besides, somebody has to go get you some cough syrup before you hack up half a lung.”

She gives him a sad, knowing look. “Please don’t talk to Max.” Her eyes are somehow both commanding and pleading, and he can’t help but wonder how this woman isn’t able to get every single thing she wants out of life. She’s certainly able to get anything out of him.

“I won’t.”

“I mean it, Jamie. Please. Let me handle it.”

He takes her by the shoulders and locks eyes with her. “I promise you, I won’t talk to Max. Not now, at least.” She gives him the smallest of smiles and chokes on another cough. “Get in the tub,” he tells her. “And don’t drown before I get back.”

There’s a small grocery on the opposite side of the compound, a commissary of sorts. So he’s able to get the cough syrup and some Nyquil and get back to the living quarters in about 20 minutes. But he lingers outside the apartment just long enough to make a quick phone call to Tony Stark so that he can relay just what shitty employees he has in his labs. He knows Tessa will be pissed when she finds out. But hearing Tony’s those little motherfuckers over the phone, and knowing that she won’t have to worry about firing them, is enough to take away some of the desire he has to punch their smug lab rat faces in.

[ofhomeland-a]

hello happy new year ! even though i’ve been on tumblr on and off for almost like 8 years or something , i’ve only been writing dinah on tumblr since october 23rd and even though i don’t interact with nearly as many people as i’d like to , it warms my heart that this many people enjoy what i write ! they enjoy my portrayal and they share the same love that i have for my muse , and that means everything to me ! because dinah madani ? oh , boy ... she stomped into my own home and snatched my own heart from my chest ; i love her so much , and i love writing her character so much . so uh , i know this is such an ugly post , but i was taken by surprise when i took a quick look through my followers this morning .

first of all , i want to thank each and every one of you for following me and wanting to interact . i appreciate you all not only for enjoying my content and portrayal , but just for existing and getting through it all . you’re here , it’s about to be a new year , and i’m proud of you for that . 

second , i do want to shout at a few people real quick because that’s what people do on these things , right ?

CLOSEST FRIENDS

@agentstein / @catwalksilhouette / @brightwasright / @finaldisorder — we’ve been at this for almost a decade . we met on this hellsite and we formed a relationship on this hellsite and now you’re my best friend and fiance . you support me and indulge all of my weird ass ideas . nothing is too ‘ far out ’ for you ; you never make me feel insecure about my characters or ideas . love that for me . love that for us . you’re the best and i’m just so thankful we met on our jim and molly blogs so feckin’ long ago . you’re the light in my life , and the main reason i continue on . as with every relationship , there are bumps , but god damn we work through them like the champions we are . keep on keepin’ on , you funky little love bug . i love you more than life .

@kingoftheravens / @apogexn — *slaps top of head* this bad boy can fit so many creative ideas in it !!!! no but really , no matter how often i disappear , vicious is DEADASS always here to welcome me back with open arms with zero guilt trips or anything like that . we met ( briefly ) on this blue hellsite like 5+ years ago , and i always really looked up to her as a person and her amazing world building . she was actually one of the first people i met when i made loki all those years ago , so ofc when i saw her url floating around once i made brock , i had to reach out despite being scared to , and i’m so glad i did . <3 vicious , ily and you’re just spectacular . thank you for being such an awesome friendo .

@kupale / @hadncchoice — GOBS i know you aren’t here , but i miss you terribly . we’ve been through ... a lot together LMAO but we came out stronger because of it ! i’m so glad you decided to stick around , and i’m so glad we stuck with each other through it ! i know i speak for milo too when i say this , but you’re amazing . you’re a trooper and you’re going to keep trooping on . i miss you !!!! <3

@soulstcne — !!!!!! this is another one that is literally always here and ready to welcome me back with open arms whenever i disappear and decide to come back . i can never repay your kindness and patience , but i absolutely appreciate it more than anything . shauna is always ready to plot and just spitball ideas ALL day and i love it so much ! also ashley ?? whew , she’s just as amazing <333 

BABES

@zombleeds / @griefends / @whisperswar — MELANIE . ICB !!! i know i’ve said this 100 times , but i remember being in awe of your frank when i wrote on my bucky and i’m just SO glad i decided to reach out to you !!! i know once i stop being a massive potato , we are going to write beautiful and heart breaking things >) thank you for being so positively amazing !!!

@jigscw — i know we don’t talk often , but i just wanted to thank you for always indulging my random IM’s screaming about either dinah & billy or krista & billy . you’re honestly really easy to talk to , and your billy is just CHEF KISS . i love him !!! i love the way you write him ! the tone !!! HHHH everything . thank you for writing with me !

@cynicomplex — listen i know we don’t talk a whole lot , but i appreciate you so much ! i love how open you are to my dumb ideas , and you always support them ! i also love how much i love our two idiots here ..... they’re so dumb and i just can’t with them . i know we’ve only written a few things together , and haven’t really gotten too far in any of them , but the chemistry between dinah and devrah is undeniable ! soon they’ll see they belong together ... soon ... 

@affcgato / @readyforyours / @idumean / @takeseffort / @huntersprayer — i’m so glad i accidentally liked a random thread between you and someone else , because it MADE me reach out in order to apologize for being awkward . i’ve always loved your characterization , no matter the muse . you’re such a sweet and amazing person , i’m really glad we’ve started talking !! also , i just want to point out that fact that you’re incredibly strong , and i am so proud of you !! for getting through the BS that you did !!! and the fact that you’re able to come back ,,, <3 i really hope to plot with you very soon ( with any of your muses ! ) but i just ned to stop being Potato first !!! 

@tocxmply — I KNOW I’M A SLOW ASS POTATO , but we’re 2 replies into our thread and it’s already got me feelin’ some type of way . i love your take on bucky , i love your writing , and i love your dedication . thank you so much for not only following me , but also entertaining my ideas and helping me plot something wonderful . you’re wonderful !

@hakune — !!!!! we haven’t written yet , but when we do .... oh the dash isn’t prepared for it !!! i love your characterization , your write all of your muses with such dedication and love , it’s amazing to see . also your energy on the dash ? top notch . i’m living for it !! 

@warhunting / @blcckbiird / @knifesavvy — i’m sorry you have to put up with so much from shitty people in your inbox . every time i see it , it makes me so angry . but honestly , you’re such a strong person and i’m proud of you for continuing to do what you love ! also rick and dinah ? cuties . i hope to continue developing them in 2020 !

@ikumkani / @sundiety — wow ... your conviction . your energy !!!! your writing !!!!!!! i really admire you and T’Challa , like ... you write him and about him with such a dedicated passion , i can FEEL it radiating from every word ! i love the fact that i can hear his voice in my head with every word , and those headcanons ??? i can’t . also hold on a second , SOL CAME INTO MY OWN HOME and stole my heart , okay . i love her concept , i love her ! i love reading about her , and learning more about her . thank you so much for blessing my dash with your wonderful creations .

@putrifyre — i’ve said it once and i’ll say it 100 more times : I LOVE TASS . I LOVE HIM !!!! I LOVE EVERYTHING YOU HAVE ABOUT HIM . i love how emotional he is !! how loving he is toward his SO’s ! how Soft™ he can be !!! one wouldn’t expect it coming from someone like him , and that really just adds so much to his character ! i’m in love with everything you have for him !! and then you !! oh , you’re a gem ! i know we’ve only spoken a few times , mainly because i’m Shit with keeping up w people , but you’re so ,,, nice . you’re so easy to talk to !! 

@arrowfcrged — !!! omg I LOVE victor , and I LOVE his and dinah’s dynamic so much . and i LOVE how sweet you are ! you’re very welcoming , very fun , and you’re always up for plotting and tossing ideas around ! love that ! thank you so much for writing with me , and for inadvertently helping me figure out dinah’s own sort of vigilante verse . writing with you definitely assisted in fleshing her reasoning out , and it’s wonderful that i was able to do that with you <3

LOVELIES

@cthlicdevil / @warstrike / @boundedbygrief / @elataan / @lcdiablcblanc / @stormweathered / @riddel / @deferentially / @rouqehair / @deivll / @venomtm / @hoyled / @prcsopa / @sniperwithasmoke / @br6vo / @detectiev / @dunnithole / @wardogsong / @hittcr / @fbiartist / @huntreborn / @becomedeviant / @craene / @warcharged / @lasw3ll / @childhealcr / @standsready / @tlmebreaks / @codedhonor / @marredset / @aresblessed / @avocadefense / @fairdoves / @wristful / @falsedking / @hlekter / @miserybled / @cadisfly / @brightprofiler / @healsiick / @thestarskiller / @palespyder / @shitgiven / @ashtouch / @awbartonno / @hopeswrath / @geneticempath / @conflyct / @lucifeyr / @tapewormking / @suppetior 

happy new year , everyone ! let’s make it a great one <3

[prettyyoungtragedy]

Written in the Stars - Epilogue

Characters: Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: You’re the type of woman who is headstrong and fiercely independent. Heiress to a fortune and one of the most brilliant minds of the 21st century. Until you’re forced into witness protection. Your “Protection” turns out to be 220 pounds of dreamy, sassy, delightful Bucky Barnes. Whatever could go wrong?

Warnings: Fluff and more god damn fluff!

A/N: And the time has come for me to say goodbye to these characters that I poured my blood sweat and tears into lol. Man, I love each and every single one of you who left the most amazing, gorgeous heart rendering feedback on this fic! You made my days SO MUCH BETTER with all the comments and reblogs and asks screaming at me! I adored writing this for you guys and I hope the next time I write some Bucky trash you all will jump on the bandwagon again!

Thank you all from the bottom of my heart for coming along this angsty garbage train of a fic and for sticking with me through till the end. Y’ALL ARE SOME FUCKIN’ OG MOTHER FUCKERS AND I LOVE YOU FOR IT!

Thank you to @suz-123 for all the hours you put into listening to me whine about Bodyguard!Bucky and for all the words of encouragement (and the threats lol). This fic wouldn’t have been half as great if I didn’t have a fucking world class Beta like you. I got real love for you friend!

Links are being a bitch so you can find the whole fic in my WIP masterlist in my bio!

Taglist is closed, Sorry guys!

Crisp cool sheets against your back, Bucky’s lips ghost over yours and you sigh, headily. It’s a reunion, you finally got the all clear from the doctors that you were healed from all bullet wounds, broken bones, and bruises and it wasn’t even half an hour later that you were all over Bucky. 

It was desperate stumbling through the lake house, clothes tossed across the room, his arms around you as tight as he could hold you and lips pressed to yours, tongues dancing with each other before you both crashed into the bed in his bedroom.

He placed slow deliberate kisses along the column of your neck, pausing at your pulse and just feeling its slow steady beat for a moment, his mind filled with only thoughts of you and how much he adored you at that moment before he traces the outline of your collarbone with his tongue. Your fingers tangled in his dark hair, pulling him impossibly closer, his lips traveled across your chest, pausing at the scar the bullet had left and pressed a kiss to it then moved to the next scar.

Bucky takes his time, he has no urgency about this moment, he wants it to last for as long as it could. A lifetime of exploring your body with his mouth didn’t feel like enough time for him. His hands roaming across your body, yours on his, soft kisses and murmurs of how much you loved each other.

He holds you as close as he can to his body as he pushed into you, his lips finding yours again, muffling the moan that escapes your throat.

“Fuck, I love you,” He muttered leaning down and kissing you softly again as he fucked you, each slow deep thrust sends a spark snapping up your spine and your mind spinning with affection for this man. He looked at you with those starlight eyes and you were drowning in them. The way he looked at you, the way he touched you, everything about being with this man sets your existence alight.

You curled your arm around his neck, the other under his metal arm and hold him closer, your bodies flushed as you moved to the rhythm of the other. The ecstatic pleasure building between the two of you, higher and higher and you feel dizzy from it.

And when that ecstasy implodes, toppling both of you over the edge of that cliff you’re standing on together, it’s like everything in life aligned for you again, and nothing else mattered but him, and this moment.

~~~

“When did you and Fury decide on that?” Bucky asked, interlacing his fingers with yours. It had been a week since your little reunion and he had done well not to ask too many questions, or demand answers from you.

The two of you kicked everyone out of the lake house and just wrapped yourselves up in each other. Taking every moment you could, just loving each other.

Bucky said he loved you every chance he got, he said it when he woke up, when the two of you went to sleep, he murmured it when he held you in his arms as the two of you did nothing but cuddle on the couch, and he fervently said it every time he made love to you that week, which was more than two people should have at that point.

Every time he said it, you responded with the same amount of fervor he did. It was like the two of you wanted to keep saying it over and over until it was all the other could think about and at that moment, it was all you could think about, just how much you loved this man.

“After the car incident, he came to see me while I was in the Med Bay and we talked about it. He told me they would never stop coming after me as long as I was alive,” You replied tilting your head and looking up at him, “So he explained Tetrodotoxin to me, which I already knew about, since I sort of helped Banner with some of the research for that, and we came up with the plan to kill me in a way.”

Bucky frowned at you, the memory of being told you had died replaying in his head again, and he hated it.

You reached up and smoothed the frown from his face, before kissing his forehead softly, “Of course being taken by Arcas wasn’t part of the plan, we’d initially thought we could stage a car accident or plane crash or something. But life kinda got in the way and well Arcas did too.”

“I hate that I didn’t know about this and that I wasn’t there to protect you from that,” He murmured,

“Stop, don’t do that. You did everything right, Bucky,”

“But, I could have-”

“No, you couldn’t have, because this was my decision, and mine alone, to make. In a way, I am glad things turned out the way they did because I get to leave behind that old life and start a new one, with you.”

“Yeah still doesn’t make me feel any better,” He muttered,

“Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot,” and he grimaced as he said that realizing the joke he had inadvertently made which made you burst out laughing. 

“Why didn’t you tell me about the files Bucky?”

You watch his whole face change, you had been wanting to ask him about the files since you two we reunited but held off on it not wanting to ruin the moment. Bucky knew about your work, he knew what it was being used for but he never told you.

Bucky sighed, “I guess I wanted to protect you from that, I thought if I never told you and you never knew what they were doing with your work that guilt wouldn’t be on your shoulders,”

“But it was my work that made all those soldiers and I don’t know how many countless others,” You said softly, “And you shouldn’t have hidden that from me, I had a right to know.” 

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, I just...wanted to keep you away from my world even for a little bit, and if it meant hiding that from you then I was willing to do it,” 

You placed your hands on either side of his face and pulled his lips to yours, kissing him deeply.

“I love you for that but don’t ever lie to me ever again.” Your tone makes him chuckle.

Bucky smiled when you said this, his fingertips brushing against your bare shoulder. “I mean as fuckin’ crazy as your plan was, which, by the way, you could have really died, I am glad you’re okay.”

“Thanks to that serum,” You muttered and you feel him tense up beside you again.

“Are you...is...do you feel different?” Bucky asked cautiously. Neither of you had spoken about the serum that Strucker had given you and after Banner and Tony ran multiple tests on you they discovered that it had sort of enhanced your being, kind of like what had happened to Bucky and Steve in a way just with different effects.

“A little yeah, maybe stronger? But that’s neither here nor there.”

“And there was no way to reverse it?”

“We’re working on that, but for now, I’m just glad it saved my life. Funny how my life's work is the reason I almost died and I am still alive today,” You let out a quick laugh

Bucky didn’t find this funny, he frowned at you again and pulled you even closer against his body. “Not funny,” he muttered,

“Oh lighten up asshole, I can joke about it now.”

“Too soon,”

“I know but it’s okay because I am here, you are here and that’s it.”

You tilted your head up again and kissed him sweetly, Bucky sighing into the kiss. He’d never get used to kissing you, it was his new favorite thing to do. He held onto you tightly, like he had been doing since you came back to him. Too afraid to let you go for fear of losing you again but he knew in his heart that nothing would take away what he felt for you, and vice versa. He was going to hold onto you till his dying breath and even then if there was some kind of afterlife, he knew he would spend an eternity holding onto you because you made him feel whole and more alive than any other soul in the universe.

“I love you,” Bucky muttered breaking the kiss,

“I love you more, idiot.”

This made him smile.

~~~

In the months following your ‘death’, things changed drastically, more people came forward exposing Hydra. SHIELD cracked down on their operatives and began rooting out moles and other Hydra agents among them. The Avengers became the front runners in doing this, shutting down as many Hydra cells as they could.

Bucky, of course, took it a little more personally than the rest of the team, as he had a new fervor to fight with. He tried his best to stay out of the fighting as much as possible, after the last fight he’d been in had brought out more of the Soldier that he would have liked, but he still went on missions with the rest of the team. 

Bucky had told you what he’d done after you were taken and both of you agreed, he’d stay out of the line of fire, it was better for everyone. 

You, on the other hand, had a whole new life to start, and it began by hiding out in Bucky’s lake house, trying to figure out what you were going to do next with your company now under the control of Stark Industries, you had the financial freedom to do whatever you wanted.

“I like Germany?” You said taking a bite out of the slice of pizza in your hand, the two of you seated on the floor in the living room of his lake house which had now become your home too.

“No, I don’t have good memories of Germany,” Bucky shook his head,

“What about somewhere in Morocco?”

“Yeah, Morocco is a hard pass, the Winter Soldier has been there too many times,”

“God, is there anywhere in the world you actually like?”

“I like Italy.”

You paused for a moment, chewing thoughtfully at his suggestion. The two of you were trying to pick a destination for you to go to for a little while, to lay low at until this Hydra thing blew over. Turned out it was harder than you’d imagined, seeing as neither of you could agree on a place to go to.

“Italy is only nice in the summer,” You replied,

“No, it’s not, Italy is nice all year round,”

“Uhh, have you been there recently? Because I have, and it’s not,”

“Don’t argue with me, I am telling you, Italy is for us,”

“Oh yeah, how can you be so sure I’ll like it?”

“Because, it’s got wine and pasta and Prada, everything you love, sweetheart,”

You laughed heartily at his response, before leaning over a kissing him sweetly on the lips.

“You get me, Bucky Barnes.” You murmured smiling at him.

~~~

‘Terrorist organization rooted out in SHIELD as the Avengers shut down the organization in pursuit of the criminals behind the human experimentation's done in Queens. Doctor Werner Reinhardt, Baron Strucker, and Alexander Pierce all arrested as allegations made against them bring to light their ties to the criminal activities. Officials are now calling for Senator Sterns arrest amidst his ties to the Hydra sect. Forerunner to this whole operation is Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes whose tireless efforts have brought justice to so many nameless victims in this war-’ - NY Post

“Are you reading the New York post, again?” Bucky sighed grabbing the tablet out of your hands and tossing it onto the nearby couch,

“Yes I am, and give that back, I wasn’t done,” You grumbled reaching for it but Bucky snatched it up again and held it out of arm's length as he sat down beside you, pulling you close.

“What are you even reading?” He asked his eyes going to the heading of the article you were reading and he groaned, “Good god, don’t read this pompous trash,”

“Why not, my boyfriend’s a hero and an Avenger.” You laughed,

“Fiance and retired Avenger,” Bucky corrected you,

“Semantics,”

“No, say it,”

“No, it’s a stupid word.”

“Oh my god, don’t mock centuries of tradition, woman, I put a ring on that finger, and demand you call me your fiance!” Bucky feigned offense as he tossed the tablet onto the coffee table and pounced on you pinning your hands over your head, pushing you down onto the couch.

“No, you giant moron, nothing about you and I are traditional,” You laughed as he assaulted your neck with kisses. Bucky let go of your hands and nudged your legs open, settling above you with a grin on his face.

“I missed you,” He said softly completely changing the tone of the mood, he leaned in and kissed you, softly.

“I missed you more,” You said, pulling him in for another kiss,

“So are you all set for our sabbatical?” He asked, pulling away and sitting up,

“Yeah, can’t wait to stop hiding out here and actually go on a real date with you,”

“I’ll take you on all the dates, the moment we get there,” Bucky grinned at you,

“That makes no sense,”

“I know,”

“You’re so stupid,”

“But you love me.”

And oh how you did love him.

~~~

The sun was setting over the beautiful horizon, it casts a warm glow across the apartment kitchen. Sun streaks dancing across the terracotta rooftops in Florence, a soft breeze making the silky curtains flutter with them. You stood on the balcony holding a glass of wine in your hand, gently twirling the stem in your hand and watching the sunset. 

You hear soft footsteps behind you moments before you feel Bucky slip his arms around your shoulders and draw your back flush to him. His muscular naked torso hot against your body.

“There you are,” He murmured against the skin on your neck before placing a kiss on your bare shoulder,

“Thought you were still asleep,” You said reaching up behind you and carting your fingers through his hair, he needed a hair cut. 

“I was but you weren’t there and you know I can’t sleep without you,”

You smiled at this comment, two years later and he was still so god damn needy. You loved it.

“You’re such a needy little bitch,” You laughed softly and this earned you a little nip on your neck from Bucky.

“It’s called love, you hussy.”

You laughed again and twisted around in his arms to face him. You placed the wine glass down on the table next to you and reached up linking your arms around his neck. God, he looked so fucking perfect in the setting sunlight,

“Why are you so pretty?” You sighed leaning into him and placing a kiss on his neck,

“What kind of question is that?” Bucky chuckled tightening his arms around your waist as you trailed a line of kisses across his neck and jaw,

“You’re supposed to say I am pretty too, Bucky,”

“You’re pretty too, sweetheart.” He laughed, a moment before his lips found yours and he kisses you with fervor. The way his hands slid down your body, over your ass and to the back of your thighs before he lifted you into his arms told you where this was going and you weren’t about to complain.

~~~

It was well into the evening when the two of you collapsed tiredly onto the soft sheets beside each other, breathless and satisfied. The pale moonlight drifted across the room, casting a pale glow through it.

It was a perfectly starry night outside, and the weather was perfect. In fact, every day since the two of you had gotten here was perfect. There wasn’t a moment that you weren’t at absolute peace here.

After traveling around for a bit with Bucky to the Bahamas, Mexico and half of the Asia's, you’d both decided on Italy for an extended sabbatical. It was the perfect place for both of you considering how much you loved the food and wine and, well, Bucky just agreed with you because it was where he wanted to go the most.

It had been the most amazing year of your life, being with Bucky and traveling the world. He retired as an Avenger but still, on occasion, helped out his friends with missions when they asked nicely. But otherwise, he left that Avenging life behind, and the two of you lost yourselves to each other, traveling. It kind of became a history lesson with you every time you visited a new place and Bucky told you something new about it, or when he was here as the Winter Soldier. Things he remembered or had done. He was open and honest with you and it was everything you could have asked for.

A year since your ‘death’, Bucky asked you to marry him as the two of you stood in the Louvre beneath the starry night sky and you were at a loss for words. It had been the longest time since anything had felt normal for the two of you and at that moment you realized both of you wanted more than to keep traveling and moving around.

So you decided on Italy, Florence to be specific, the one place both of you could agree on wholeheartedly, and it turned out to be the best decision you’d ever made. A wedding in Florence with the few people that mattered to both of you and those who knew you were alive of course, Steve, Sam, Tony, Natasha among the guests and then it became your home.

You missed New York City, as you’d spent your whole life there. Bucky said maybe one day when all this was over, the two of you could go back, but as soon as you found a home in Florence you forgot all about New York and it suddenly felt like the home the two of you always needed.

And tonight, on the anniversary of your living here, you couldn’t have thought of a better place to be. The two of you now stood on the balcony enjoying the quiet of the night and each other’s embrace, taking in the beauty of the city below.

“You were right, Italy is great any time of the year,” You murmured kissing his forehead,

“I’m always right,” Was all Bucky said, and you could almost hear the smirk in his voice at that moment. You laughed softly and intertwined your fingers with him, the gold band on your finger glinting in the soft moonlight.

“Okay, calm down there, you’re right like forty percent of the time,” You snorted,

“Let’s not have this argument again or I will have to bring up Acra,”

“You wouldn’t dare!” You gasped feigning shock and Bucky laughed.

“Oh, I would, believe me, I would.”  

You were about to reply when the soft sound of a cry came through the little black monitor you’d set on the table nearby. Both of you sighed, and Bucky moved first.

“I’ll get her,” He said giving you a quick kiss before he made his way back inside and you can’t help but grin at his retreating figure. You still couldn’t believe just how much your life had changed since meeting Bucky, from hating him with every fiber of your being, to loving him more than you could ever love someone. Of course, you had Nick Fury to thank for all this, and you laughed at the thought of thanking Nick Fury for allowing Bucky into your life because god how you loved, adored and cherished James Buchanan Barnes.

[qqueenofhades]

so i've seen lots of art where aziraphale is cupping crowley's face as he kisses him, and that has given me a lot of emotions, and i was wondering if you could write a little something based off of that? only if you feel like it, i'm sure you're super busy!! thank you so much

Okay I’m sure you wanted something passionate and tender and post-apocalypnot with them, and that was originally what I was intending to give you, but then my voracious need for Nanny/Gardener Shenanigans took over and this was the result. They’re idiots and I hate them.

It has been six months since Nanny Ashtoreth and Brother Francis joined Ambassador Dowling’s official London residence, and things are going… well, they’re going. Young Warlock, aged five, is generally pleased with his new caretakers, though the first time he refused to take a bath and threw a temper tantrum in the corridor while the Finnish Trade Minister decorously pretended to have gone temporarily deaf, he was taken firmly in hand and instructed never to do that again. Nanny sounds softly Scottish most of the time, but there was something in her voice just then which made an Impact upon the youngster. Warlock had the unaccountable feeling that if he did in fact repeat the spectacle, he would be eaten alive in his bed by a swarm of eldritch horrors, all of whom looked like the former US Vice President. He has never done it again.

The Dowlings are thus also very pleased with the corrective influence that Mrs Ashtoreth (is she a Mrs? They’ve never thought to ask, aside from a vague sense that she may be married to the gardener) has exerted upon their son, at least when they’re around. Thaddeus Dowling is constantly off doing important manly things with important manly men, Harriet Dowling is presently off on one of her passive-aggressive visits to America to see her parents, and Warlock, as usual, has been left with the help. He wanders out to the garden in search of Nanny, so they can play Hide and Seek The Great Hellbeast. (Nanny’s games are odd, he is vaguely aware of that, but they have fun. Usually.)

Instead, what meets young Warlock’s eyes is the sight of Brother Francis leaning on a spade and trying to look like a seasoned man of the earth. Nanny is regarding him with one exquisitely plucked eyebrow arched, as she says, “Angel, you really don’t know the first thing about gardening, do you?”

Warlock stops short. They have not seen him, and he wriggles behind the gazebo, peering out with heart pounding. Nanny sounds strangely like a middle-aged English man, of which he has met countless thanks to his dad’s job, and she is inspecting Francis’s valiant attempt to plant begonias with the look said men usually get when asked to comment on what HM Loyal Opposition did yesterday. She – he? – shakes her head, causing her elegantly marcelled red curls to swing in a way that momentarily distracts Brother Francis completely. “There’s no way you’re shouting at these enough.”

“I’m the nice one.” Brother Francis also sounds distinctly unlike himself. Rather than his usual hayseed drawl, he is speaking like another middle-aged English man, and a considerably prim and fussy one at that. “Besides, I’m not actually gardening, my dear, you know that. Do you think the boy is asleep yet? We could go pop off and have a bit of tea in the shade.”

Nanny glances around, but manages not to notice Warlock. Then she says, in a darkly significant sort of voice, “How do you think it’s going?”

“You’re the one who spends the most time with him,” Brother Francis says, putting down the spade and any pretense of actually doing anything significant with it. He removes his hat as well, and – Warlock isn’t certain what, but something happens to his face, with its bushy sideburns and buck teeth. He resembles someone else altogether. A nice sort of fellow, but a stranger. “I suppose we must allow that the Antichrist will seem quite normal at first.”

Nanny considers that, tapping her fingers on her arm. Then she says, “Got a commendation yesterday. Apparently they thought that once he met the former US Vice President, he was entirely set for being evil.”

(Aha, Warlock thinks. Knew there was something dodgy about Hallibubbleton.)

“I don’t think so,” Brother Francis clucks. “Gabriel seems equally convinced that it would have had the opposite effect, but in reverse. I just – Crowley, are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Course it’s a good idea.” Nanny – Crowley? This is all very strange – seems miffed that not-Brother Francis would even ask. “We went over this, remember?”

“Yes, well.” Brother Francis offers up a weak-chinned smile. “I mean, you do seem to be rather good with him, you know. Very nice.”

This has a surprising reaction that takes Warlock quite aback. Crowley grabs the hapless gardener by the frock, pulling him sharply against her. “Aziraphale,” she growls. “What have I told you about that? I am not nice! I am influencing him to be EVIL! And you’re supposed to be influencing him to be GOOD! There is nothing NICE about any of it! Or me!”

Aziraphale looks less alarmed than you would think. Warlock gets a sudden suspicion about what might be going on here. Absolutely none of what they’re saying makes any sense to him, but he knows when adults want to sneak off and start kissing, which looks set to break out at any moment (disgusting). Apparently they are in fact married, though he still doesn’t know why they’re calling each other these funny names and arguing about this. To make sure things don’t get any more out of hand, he steps out from behind the gazebo. “What’s an Antichrist?”

Crowley and Aziraphale, if that is who they are, freeze on the spot. They exchange a look of pure terror only achievable to a pair of morons who have been caught red-handed and have no idea what to do now, and Crowley does apparently the only thing that occurs to her. She jerks hold of her husband and kisses him – to Warlock’s vast chagrin, this being the one thing he was trying to avoid. This goes on just long enough for Aziraphale’s hand to float up, seemingly of its own volition, to cup her face, until Crowley pulls back. “I have told you, you auld daftie,” she informs the stunned not-a-gardener, once more speaking in her Scottish caretaker-of-children voice, “not to drink before lunch, don’t you remember? You come out with all sort of nonsense when you do.”

Aziraphale utters a sound like a bladder that has been stepped on. Crowley – no, it’s just Nanny, and Warlock is already curiously hazy on remembering everything he just heard – adjusts her curls and puts back on her hat, clearing her throat. “Young man,” she says sternly, heels leaving sharp imprints in the turf as she strides toward Warlock. “What have I told you about eavesdropping?”

“That I should be bad and do what I want, because one day I’m gonna rule the whole world and know everything,” Warlock pipes up helpfully. “Wasn’t it?”

Nanny gets the look of someone who has once more played herself. Brother Francis still has not recovered, but manages to shoot her a silent HA.

“Yes, well,” Nanny says feebly. “Come along.”

She takes hold of Warlock’s hand and marches him off, leaving one angel in considerable distress behind her. Aziraphale’s brain is currently making a sound like a fork in a garbage disposal, as that is an extremely literal hell of a way to have your first kiss with someone you’ve been unconsciously and then consciously pining after for six thousand years, and his fingers can still sense their inadvertent curl around Crowley’s cheek. That was – that was – that was –

Well, Aziraphale thinks at last, picking up the spade, even as his hands continue trembling. At least Crowley didn’t mean it. It was just to cover up their apparently ill-chosen moment to discuss the Plan. That was all. It’s fine. And as long as Warlock is struck with a convenient bout of amnesia, no harm done.

They are absolutely nailing this.

[metalandmagi]

August Media Madness

Well, August may have sucked for me personally, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t keep track of all the media I consumed this month! And spoiler alert, I watched a lot of movies involving adorable talking bears. Although, I have a feeling that as soon as the fall television premieres start, I’ll be watching a lot less movies.

July’s media

Movies!

Dear Evan Hansen

Thank you bootlegs. This isn’t a movie, but I didn’t want to make a separate category for plays when I’ve only seen one this month. Anyway, if you haven’t heard of it, Dear Evan Hansen involves an incredibly anxious teenage boy who is tasked by his therapist to write motivational letters to himself. Unfortunately, Connor Murphy, an angsty boy who goes to Evan’s school sees one of the letters, takes it, and promptly decides to kill himself, with the letter still on his person. Everyone ends up thinking he and Evan were friends and that this letter was a suicide note that Connor wrote to Evan...and a beautiful fake gay relationship friendship was born. Call me basic as hell, but I’ve watched this show twice now, and listened to the soundtrack more times than I can count, and it’s turning into my favorite musical. There are so many important messages in it, and it takes you on a roller coaster of emotions. Every character does good and bad things, and no one is blameless or innocent...except maybe Zoe Murphy. If anything just listen to the soundtrack. 10/10

Night on the Galactic Railroad

Cats...on a mystical train...This seems like the kind of movie they would show you in film school. Very dull plot and characters with the themes being the main takeaway. What even is the plot of this movie? Darker, grittier, furry version of the Polar Express? Incredibly boring slightly more religious version of Over the Garden Wall? I just kept watching it because the main character looks like a cat version of Kagayama Tobio in middle school...cat-gayama. 4/10

Paddington

An adorable bear from South America travels to London and gets into all sorts of trouble with an English family. It’s very charming and sweet, and the aesthetic in this movie is on point, like Wes Anderson directed a children’s movie. This is one of those movies you hear about where everyone loves it, and you think it can’t possibly be that good, but then you watch it and you were wrong! So wrong! 10/10

Paddington 2

Naturally. This time an adorable South American bear goes to prison, and his family tries to clear his name. Again, A+ aesthetic and imagery, but I think I preferred the plot of the first movie a little more because everyone was all together. 9/10

Christopher Robin

Do you like Winnie the Pooh? Do you like jaded adults finding happiness in their lives again? Do you think the movie Hook had a good premise but was extremely long and kinda boring and could have been a better movie with a little tweaking? Well this is the movie for you! Christopher Robin has grown into an overworked adult, and his old friend Winnie the Pooh inadvertently helps him reconnect with his wife and daughter (and also his inner child) just by being the sweet, clumsy, dry humored bear we all know and love. I was so skeptical of this movie at first, and I was absolutely blown away by how funny and meaningful it was. 100/10

The Road to El Dorado

Two lovable Spanish con men named Miguel and Tulio are accidentally swept away on a journey to the fabled city of El Dorado, where everything is made of gold. Once they reach the city, the locals believe they’re gods due to an (un)fortunate series of coincidences, and the con men try to keep up the charade with the help of the best character in the movie, Chel (who I’m pretty sure caused an entire generation of lesbians’ sexual awakening). This is one of my favorite animated movies of all time and one of the reasons I wish Dreamworks would go back to their 2D animation days, where the visuals and music were just as stunning as 3D movies are now. This movie is a classic, and I desperately want a sequel! 10/10

To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before

When Lara Jean thinks it’s a good idea to write 5 secret love letters to 5 boys that she’s had crushes on over the years, everything is fine until her little sister mails the letters to all the boys (because even a 6th grader knows Lara Jean is lonely and emotionally stunted as fuck). This is a Netflix original movie that was adapted from the book by Jenny Han...which I haven’t read, but now I really want to. Overall, this was super cute, but I wasn’t really crazy about the boys. They weren’t horrible people or anything, and they never pressured Lara Jean or made fun of her for being “innocent”, but they were just kind of bland. I’m much more interested in the other boys we didn’t see in the movie! But the family relationships were so heartfelt, Lara Jean’s fashion sense is AMAZING, and the acting/casting was awesome. 8/10

Summer Wars

I...don’t even know how to describe the plot of this one. A teenage boy named Kenji goes on a country holiday and pretends to date an acquaintance of his in order to impress her enormous family...but it’s really about an AI that becomes sentient and wants to mess up the world through this universal internet program called OZ that’s kind of like a mashup of Facebook and Second Life...but actually no it’s about family sticking together and using a Japanese card game to save the world…but apparently it’s got the same plot as the Digimon movie because they’re both directed by Mamoru Hosoda. Yeah...

Guys, I have a confession to make...this has always been my favorite Mamoru Hosoda movie. Everyone falls all over themselves saying Wolf Children is the best Mamoru Hosoda movie, and that’s great for them but it doesn’t even come in second for me. Summer Wars means a lot more to me personally because I come from a big extended family, and when I first saw this movie, I was blown away by how accurate the family dynamic was. There are so many characters, but everyone has their own personality. Not to mention the music makes the summer atmosphere so on point. And I’m not going to lie...I bawled like a fucking baby the first time I saw this movie. So anyway, I like Summer Wars more than Wolf Children, thanks for coming to my TED talk. 10/10

Atlantis: The Lost Empire

Unappreciated researcher Milo Thatch goes on an expedition to find the lost city of Atlantis.

Okay, there are two kinds of Disney fans in this world: Treasure Planet fans, and Atlantis fans. And I will support Treasure Planet as the best underrated vaguely steampunk inspired Disney movie until you can pry my 15 year old dvd copy away from my cold dead hands. But Atlantis is pretty good too. I could write essays comparing the two and why both of them should be successful but weren’t. My main problem with it is that the characters are great, but I feel like we don’t see enough of them, and as a kid a lot of the humor went by so fast that I completely missed it. Also the glowing eyes and spirits taking over the Atlantian princess’s body freaked me the fuck out as a child. NEVERTHELESS! This really is a great movie, with extremely well developed lore and well designed characters that chills me to this day. 8/10

Deadpool 2

The merc with a mouth is back, and man there’s so much going on in this movie I won’t even try to explain the plot. I literally had to go back and add this in because I was so into this movie when I was watching it that I forgot to write it down! Even though I really liked this sequel, I think I liked the first one better, just based on how much I laughed. There was so much going on plot wise, but it really seemed to work for this movie. There were also a lot of great new characters (Domino is my favorite character of the franchise now), but since there was so much stuff going on, a lot of jokes and plot lines were sort of hit and miss. Anyway, I’m sure everyone’s seen this one by now but just in case, I highly recommend it. 9/10

Books!

The Adventure Zone Graphic Novel: Here There be Gerblins by Clint McElroy (technically all the McElboys) and Carey Pietsch

Yeah yeah, for anyone who doesn’t know I’m Adventure Zone trash okay. TAZ is a DnD podcast where 3 brothers and their father create one of the most famous campaigns in history involving three idiot adventurers going on a quest to find a missing person and getting sucked into a much larger grand plan to protect the world. This graphic novel is a visualization of the first arc. I don’t even really like Here There be Gerblins all that much, and yet here I am. Oh well, the art was amazing, and of course I already knew the story. But it was kind of hilarious to see the name changes they had to make to some of the characters and places. I was a little disappointed that the ending was so rushed, and we don’t really spend time around the moon base before The Director is in our face changing the Lunar Interlude parts but whatever. 10 dead gerblins/10

The Darkest Minds by Alexandra Bracken

When a disease that only affects children kills off nearly all the kids on the planet, the survivors are left with supernatural powers and are taken away to concentration camps in order to “protect” the public. I’ve been wanting to read this for a long time, and since the movie just came out I thought it was the perfect time. This is one of those books that some people adore and some people hate. I thought it was just okay. For everything that I didn’t like, there was something to make up for it. Personally, I felt that Bracken focused on the wrong part of the story. Everything takes place years after this disease has come, and I think it would have been more interesting to see everything from the children’s points of view when this disease was first starting. I would focus on each different character as a child and how they wound up in their respective camps. Oh well, there’s way too many pros and cons  that I could delve into, but you like the YA dystopian genre then I say go for it. I didn’t like it enough to read the other two books (not yet anyway). 7/10

TV Shows!

Camp Camp

You know how there are summer camps that specialize in science, or acting, or space, or whatever? Yeah Camp Camp is about a summer camp that throws literally everything you can think of into one summer camp. If you don’t believe me, just listen to the theme song. Seriously though this is one of the best shows I’ve watched all year, but boy howdy this is not one for young children. It’s like Gravity Falls and Rick and Morty had a baby! Anyway, the characters are both surprising and hilarious. David the camp counselor (voiced by Miles Luna) is genuinely likable when you think he’d be the most annoying person on the planet, and the kids are so accurate it’s scary. Also Yuri Lowenthal is in it. And Griffin McElroy has a recurring role where he plays A GHOST! I’ve never been into Rooster Teeth stuff, but they have a winner with this one. 10/10

The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel

After her husband leaves her, Midge Maisel gets super drunk, goes on stage, and gives a hilarious rant about her relationship at a small comedy/talent club and somehow gets sucked into becoming a rising comedian as a woman in the 1950s. It’s good. Great acting pretty funny, but Midge and her agent/manager Susie are the only likable characters. Everyone else just kind of...sucks 8/10

Voltron Season 7 (spoilers)

Okay, I know everyone had mixed feelings about this season, but I did come out liking a lot of it. It had a lot of flaws (I really thought it would be Shiro’s season, and man was I wrong), but this is the sort of thing we can’t really judge until the last episode of the series is finished. I like to think of the positives: the action was amazing as usual, HUNK IS GETTING MORE AND MORE DEVELOPMENT EVERY SEASON, I refuse to believe the team introduced Adam just to have him killed off immediately so he’s still alive in my mind, we get to see everyone’s reunions with their families, the lost in space episode was cool, and say what you want about the game show episode, but I loved it! There were a lot of good things so it was easier for me to look past the...not so great aspects of the season. 7/10

Galavant

A musical comedy mini series involving a renowned medieval hero named Galavant on a quest to rescue his ex girlfriend from her “evil” husband King Richard. But maybe she doesn’t want to be rescued. Well, that’s just the first season. It’s best to go in knowing as little as possible. I remember liking it when it first came out, and it’s still pretty cute...but sometimes I feel like it’s trying too hard. A lot of the music isn’t really...memorable, but the characters are likable so it’s still worth the watch. 8/10

Disenchantment

Speaking of medieval comedies...Princess Bean doesn’t want to get married, mystical elf Elfo doesn’t want to live in an enchanted forest where everyone is happy all the time, and Bean’s personal demon Luci just wants to watch people suffer. Honestly, I wasn’t very into this show at first, but something compelled me to just keep watching, and by the end I was totally into it! This is one of those shows where you think there isn’t going to be a plot, but then the last few episodes come up and smack you in the face! 7.5/10

Round Planet

A documentary parody...mockumentary...satire...That’s really not a great way to describe it. It’s a nature documentary with funny commentary. I like nature shots and animals so I liked it, but there’s a lot of tangents and running jokes and British references that sometimes don’t land. Oh well, if you like unconventional documentaries, just watch it. 8/10

Honorable Mentions

DnDnD: I don’t think I’ve ever talked about this podcast before, but there’s a DnD podcast made by Practical Folks (aka the Drunk Disney youtube channel). It’s pretty good! I want an Adventure Zone crossover now!

The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild: Every time I think I’m out, it pulls me back in. I finally got the DLC and spent most of this month playing this freaking game AGAIN!

The Heathers soundtrack: I finally listened to the Heathers musical soundtrack...and I didn’t love it. There are some good songs in it, but overall I’m unimpressed. And I never could really get into the plot, I’ve always thought it was really weird and over dramatic.

Legendary by Stephanie Garber: I’m about halfway through this book, which is the second in the Caraval series. And it’s pretty good! More on that next month.

[lilacmoon83]

Dreaming Out Loud

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 90: Prelude to the Storm

"Mmm...wow, you have to try that," Neal said, as he took another bite of his meal. Emma speared a shrimp and ate it, finding it to be as delicious as he said.

"Wow...that's really good," she agreed.

"And how is everything?" Tiana asked, as she and Naveen visited the table.

"Really good," Neal complimented.

"Culinary genius," Emma added, making the couple almost giddy at the praise.

"I'm totally making my parents come here on their next date night," she praised.

"Thank you...we're glad you enjoyed it and we will not turn down the buzz that semi-famous customers like you two and your parents will create," Naveen replied.

"I think famous is a little strong, but hey if us coming here gets you more business, then that's a good thing," she agreed.

"Well, thank you. How are they doing anyway? We heard about what those people did," Tiana said gently. Emma smiled at their concern.

"They're okay...I worry about them, but love always seems like it's enough to get them through anything," she replied. The other couple smiled.

"Your parent's true love is an inspiration and I hope these outsiders find their way out of town for good," Tiana mentioned.

"You and me both," Emma agreed, as they settled the check and then started walking through town.

"So...not bad for a first date that's not a first date," he joked, as he nudged her playfully. She smiled at him.

"Yeah...it beats the old days when we were knocking off convenience stores and holing up in other people's motel rooms," she agreed. He chuckled.

"Yeah...I miss the kid though," he said. She smiled.

"Me too...guess that's the sign we've made it, huh?" she asked. He nodded.

"So...does that mean I can ask you out again?" he inquired.

"You know...I thought tonight was going to be awkward and weird, but it wasn't. It was new, but it was also familiar and comfortable...I'm not sure I expected that," she mentioned.

"So...is that good?" he asked. She smiled and answered him by pressing a kiss to his lips.

"Does that spell it out for you?" she asked coyly.

"I don't know...maybe you could spell it out some more?" he asked. She chuckled and shoved him playfully, before they kissed again, this time with a lot more heat.

"Yeah...that spelled it pretty good," he agreed, as they shared another smile, just as they saw his father's car pull up, with Belle in the passenger seat and Eli in the backseat. Which was weird. But even stranger was the truck and trailer following them. In the cab was her parents and Persephone.

"Hey guys...what's going on?" Emma asked, as they all got out.

"We found it...the magic," David said, as he hugged her.

"Uh...that's great. Where though? I thought they would have left Storybrooke with it," Emma replied.

"They did," Belle confirmed and her eyes widened.

"You two left Storybrooke without me?" she questioned in concerned.

"Yes...and that's not all that happened. But first, we need to hide the cube for now," Persephone interjected.

"Okay...let's do that first and you two can talk while we do," Emma said.

"You're not going to like any of it," Snow warned.

"Clearly," Emma responded.

"Wait...you and Belle went to?" Neal asked his father, who looked guilty.

"Bae…" he started to say, but Neal put his hand up.

"Save it...let's just hide the magic for now. I actually like the fact that Cronus and everyone else have no magic right now and I think we should keep it that way," he

agreed, as he and Emma got in the car and they proceeded to the library.

~*~

Circe angrily slammed the car door, as she arrived at the cabin. She had been called by one of her top operatives, the former soldier, and saw him wince as she stormed up to him. He was an imposing figure and his background in the marines had led her to choose him to lead her followers. But in reality, he was just the head sheep, leading her other sheep. He had once been Captain Dylan Channing in the United States Marines. He had served two tours in Afghanistan, but his experiences there had only amplified character flaws he had suffered with all his life. His anger had led him to outbursts and the determination by his superiors that he was a danger to the innocent locals that they were there to try and protect.

After several infractions, Channing was dishonorably discharged and became homeless when he returned to the states. He had undiagnosed post traumatic stress syndrome, was chronically paranoid, and had been ripe for Circe's picking. His experience as a marine made him an excellent enforcer in her operation and his weak mind allowed Circe to control him completely.

"What the hell happened?" she demanded to know.

"I got a text earlier from Kevin, requesting that I come here to help bury bodies. I'm not sure who he planned to have me help bury, but the bodies we have found are Kevin and Jessica instead," he reported, as he swallowed thickly.

"And the cube?" she asked in a measured tone.

"It's gone," he answered.

"Dammit...I ordered them to take this to the base in New York!" she screamed.

"We can use this with the other followers though. If it was Snow White and her husband that killed Jessica and Kevin, it can further our narrative that they are evil. We can get our people to riot against them," he projected.

"They have the magic! It will not matter what we do without that magic!" she ranted, as she examined the bodies that he and the others had gathered.

Kevin had clearly been stabbed through the heart, probably by the Prince if she had to guess and that would make sense if he was threatening Charming's precious Snow White. But Jessica was horribly and badly burned, almost beyond recognition. And that was a curious thing to her. Obviously there hadn't been a fire of any sort. There was no evidence or damage to indicate that. And there was only one other way she knew of that would cause burning like this. Lightning. And as far as she was aware, there had been no thunderstorms in the area, though the wet soil was indicative that there had been a weather event here. An unnatural one. One that had been created by a God...or Goddess. Whether or not it was deliberate or inadvertent, she didn't know. But it was definitely cause for concern. Even with all her advanced tech that she had created to combat magic, going against a God head on was very risky.

"Take care of the bodies and then join me back in Storybrooke. We have a ball to attend tomorrow night," she announced, as she went back to her car. If the heroes wanted to play that way, then she'd continue to be a thorn in their side.

~*~

"What?!" Emma exclaimed, as Snow and David winced in response.

"Princess…" David started to say.

"Oh no...don't Princess me, Dad. I can't believe you guys were so reckless!" she cried.

"We're really sorry honey. We had no idea it was going to escalate like that," Snow pleaded.

"She's right. You know that if I had an inkling that it would that I would have never let your mother near it, especially in her condition," David added. Emma sighed.

"I know you two don't mean to get into trouble like this, but you always do. I can't lose you guys!" she exclaimed.

"I just got you," she added and with that, they melted and hugged her between them, with David cradling her head.

"We're sorry...scaring you was the last thing we wanted to do," Snow said.

"Just promise me that you won't leave Storybrooke again without me, even if it's only a few miles away," she pleaded.

"We promise," David agreed. Neal sighed and looked at his father.

"Bae…" he started to say.

"You know I should yell at you for being so reckless, right?" he asked.

"And you would have every right," Rumple started to say, but was surprised when Neal simply hugged him fiercely, making Belle smile.

"You do something idiotic like that again and I'm going to go off on you like a bomb," he warned. Rumple eventually got over his shock and hugged him back.

"Fair enough," he choked out. With that, they opened the trailer, while Neal and David did the heavy lifting, carrying the containment cube into the library. They waited for the elevator and Emma operated it, as they took the cube down below to hide it. Once they did, she brought them back up and Snow was ready to help her mother search for Hades.

"Let's go…" Snow suggested, but Persephone did not move.

"It's too dark and we have a big day ahead of us tomorrow. We can search in the morning, but we should all be well rested for the ball," she suggested instead.

"I can have the dwarves do a night patrol," David offered.

"If you think it might help," Persephone replied.

"Can't hurt," David said, as he made the call.

"Are you sure, mother?" Snow asked. She nodded.

"Daylight is going to yield more results. All of you...go on home," she urged.

"Aren't you coming?" Snow asked.

"No...I need to tell Mother what happened out there today," Persephone replied.

"You mean with the lightning?" Snow asked. She nodded.

"I'll be fine, snowdrop and with the assistance of the other Gods, we'll find Hades in the morning," she assured, as David returned and put his arm around Snow.

"Leroy and Happy are going to run patrol and look tonight," he said. She smiled at her son-in-law.

"Thank you David," she said, as they all left the library for the night. In addition to locking the library doors, they had padlocked the elevator. James was also going to be getting there soon to guard the elevator on the night shift, while Robert would be taking the day shift. And for now, they had to hope it would be enough to hide the magic until they figured out if returning it to the town would be for the best.

When they arrived home, they bid their daughter goodnight and it was less than two seconds after Emma's door shut that they were peeling clothing away with desperate need. But they also both needed a shower after all the mud and rain, so that's where they ended up.

~*~

Steam billowed around them and hot water beaded on their naked bodies, as they quite literally fucked each other. Slow, languid lovemaking would likely come later in bed, but what they were doing now could only be described as fucking, as he pounded his hard cock into her trembling body, which he had pinned against the shower wall. And to accompany that were Snow's wanton screams and his husky growls.

"Charming…" she cried desperately, as her legs remained folded around him and she grazed her teeth along his neck, until she felt herself being pushed closer and closer.

"Baby…" she whimpered, as her back arched in an erotic bow and her head lolled back. She shuddered and writhed around him, before crying out loudly as she orgasmed like a storm. Her coming was as powerful as ever and he plunged deeply inside her, searching for his own until he could hold back no longer and found completion. They managed to finish their sensual shower, as they enjoyed washing each other, and took great pleasure in making out the rest of the time, until the water went cold.

They toweled off and made their way to the bed behind the curtain. Then it came as no surprise, as their towels were discarded and an entirely new bout of sexual euphoria began. She backed herself onto the bed, allowing him a full view of her naked body and her a view of his. Her eyes locked on the considerable length between his legs that was quickly getting hard again, as he stared at her with a mix of love and lust in his eyes. He climbed onto the bed with her, hovering above her and love and lust was mirrored in her eyes. She climbed into his lap and locked her arms around his neck, as he slid her onto his hard cock. She mewled pleasurably at him finally being inside her again and they began to rock together. He gripped her hips and helped her to ride him in an undulating rhythm. Their lips met in short pecks in between impassioned gasps, as they made love again, desperately needing each other. Climaxes raged between them again, as they fell to the bed after, boneless and sated, entwined thoroughly in each other's arms, limbs tangled beneath the sheets, and eternally in love.

~*~

Circe arrived back at camp with Captain Channing, who with the assistance of his operatives, were bringing Kevin and Jessica's bodies back.

"Followers!" she called their attention.

"A great blow has been dealt to us today!" she announced, as they revealed Jessica and Kevin's bodies to them. There were gasps of horror and shouts of outrage.

"Snow White and her Prince have killed them!" she told them. There were more cries of outrage.

"As if we needed more evidence that the Princess of the Underworld is an abomination and her husband is as evil as she is. They killed our people, while they seek to bring another demon child into this world!" Captain Channing added, further riling them up.

"Tonight we mourn our fallen and cremate them in a ceremony of honor," she announced.

"Then tomorrow, we rally and show them our wrath!" she added, as they rallied around with cries of righteous indignation.

~*~

Yesterday had started out normal, devolved into another harrowing experience for them, and ended thankfully with their incredible love winning out again. So it came as no surprise to Snow that her morning sickness was plaguing her with a vengeance that morning. She finished and flushed the contents away, as she started brushing her teeth.

"Will you please let me have your mother call Artemis?" David asked from the door.

"Charming...I'm fine," she mumbled through the toothpaste in her mouth, before spitting and rinsing.

"It's just morning sickness...completely normal," she insisted, as she padded back to their makeshift bedroom. He sighed.

"Yes, but we went through hell yesterday and stress that was really bad for you and the baby," he reminded. She sighed.

"Please…" he pleaded and she rolled her eyes.

"Fine...we can go see Artemis, but only because it's on the way to the warehouse where we need to pick out our attire for tonight," she agreed. He smiled and kissed her cheek.

"Good...let me make you breakfast," he suggested.

"Baby, I just puked my guts out," she reminded.

"So pancakes?" he asked, as she felt her stomach growl. Damn pregnancy. And his innate ability to know everything she needed or wanted, even before she did.

"With strawberries, chocolate whipped cream, and bacon," she agreed, causing him to laugh all the way to the kitchen. If there was ever a definition of domestic bliss, it was definitely them.

~*~

"What do you think?" Zelena asked, as she modeled the black gown with green embroidery in the mirror.

"The green accents suit you. Since there's always green bleeding just beneath your skin," Hades quipped, as he stared at the ceiling in the cage. She smirked.

"Good to know that captivity hasn't stolen your wit," she responded.

"Envy will be your undoing, my dear," he warned and she scoffed.

"And you going soft has already been yours," she retorted, as Hermes descended into the cellar.

"Oh look...your scum sucking worm has returned," Hades deadpanned.

"Your betrayal of me won't go unpunished when I sit upon Zeus' Throne," Hermes shot back.

"Funny you throw the word betrayal around," Hades quipped.

"I prefer to see myself as an opportunist," Hermes replied.

"Opportunist….diseased maggot...it's hard to tell from here," Hades retorted. Hermes snapped and reached for Hades through the bars, grabbing him by the collar. But the former God of the Underworld was un-bothered by Hermes' attempt at a show of intimidation.

"This is who you are choosing to help you succeed?" Hades questioned her.

"When I sit upon the Throne, I shall make you regret tossing me away like trash when I force Persephone to marry me," he threatened.

"You're not fit to shine her shoes, let alone be in her presence. She'll never marry you," he hissed. But Hermes smirked.

"If I dangle the life of her precious little Snow in front of her...she'll do anything," he taunted. Hades clenched his teeth.

"When we go back in time...there is no way for any of us to control what may happen once time is reset. But I assure you...I will remember you and I will squish you like the worm you are," he promised.

"Enough!" Zelena growled. Hermes released him and shoved him back.

"Well...why are you here? I assume you have news or else you'd be stupid to come," she demanded.

"Persephone and her precious Charmings have the containment cube. They hid it beneath the library. The elevator is padlocked and they have a round the clock patrol on that elevator," he reported.

"Tricky...but not impossible to get around," Zelena replied.

"Though it is quite curious that they did not release the magic inside the containment cube and return magic to the town," she added.

"Cronus' ball is tonight. I believe they fear his intentions and have decided that taking magic out of the equation is in everyone's best interest until they know more about his motives," Hermes reported.

"Yes...they fear Cronus. But it is me they shall soon fear," she said, as she opened up a jewelry box and took out her green pendant that had once been gifted to her by the other witches of Oz. It was all she needed to absorb all the magic in that cube.

"It's time to enact my spell...and Cronus' ball is the perfect stage for my rise to power and the fall of the heroes…" she said.

"Zelena...don't do this…" he pleaded, but she ignored him and hung up an outfit beside his cage. It was male formal wear, a black tunic, black leather pants, and boots. The black was accented with sky blue accents and embroidery.

"Time to get you dressed for the ball as well, my dear Hades. You'll be part of my...captive audience," she hissed, as he glowered at her with daggers in his eyes.

~*~

"Everything looks good," Artemis reported, as she finished Snow's exam.

"Told you," Snow said to her husband. He smiled and kissed her hair.

"Be that as it may, my darling...you know I'll never stop worrying about your safety and well-being," he replied. She smiled and kissed him.

"I know," she said affectionately.

"It's a little early, but I got a lot of the equipment working. We could do an ultrasound if you want," Artemis said. Snow and David looked at her and then at Persephone. The Goddess smiled.

"I think we'd all love that," Snow agreed. Artemis nodded and prepared everything for the test. Snow lay back, while David and Persephone each held one of her hands, as Artemis rubbed the solution on her belly.

The machine whirred to life, as Artemis operated it and an image appeared on the screen.

"It's a bit too early to tell sex...but there he or she is," she said, as she pointed out the fetus on the screen. Snow and David were stunned to speechlessness, as they stared at the screen.

"Oh Snow…" he uttered, as they stared at their tiny baby. Snow looked at him, as tears streamed down her cheeks and he pressed a kiss to her lips. As their lips parted, their faces were full of pure joy.

"I love you so much…" he said, as a few tears slipped down his cheeks.

"I love you…" she replied, as they kissed again. Artemis and Persephone smiled, as the former operated the equipment and printed copies of the sonogram.

"By the next one in a few weeks, we'll be able to tell the sex of the baby. But for now, these are for you," she said, handing them the photos. Persephone hugged them both.

"We'll give you a few minutes alone and to get dressed," she said, as the two women stepped out.

"Oh David…" Snow gushed, as she was unable to tear her eyes away from the photo in her hand. His face was a contagious grin and he pressed his forehead against hers.

"Is this real?" she asked wistfully.

"Yes...this is real, my darling. This is our baby…" he replied, as they kissed again.

"What if it happens again, Charming?" she feared.

"It won't...we won't let it. There is no way that me or your mother are going to let anyone rip this baby away from us this time," he promised.

"The Swans are dead...and Circe's followers won't succeed. I don't want to, but if I have to do to them what I did to Kevin Swan...I will," he confessed. She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him tenderly.

"Now...let's get you dressed and get ready for this ball tonight, so I can make it clear to everyone in this town that they will not hurt this family," he said. She smiled and got dressed, as they left the makeshift hospital with Persephone in tow. There was still no sign of Hades and Persephone was now deeply worried. She would have resumed searching, but at this point she thought it was going to the ball might yield more clues to Hades' whereabouts. She didn't know if Cronus was involved, but she wasn't going to be surprised if he was.

In the past, she might have found his sudden disappearance suspicious and might even think he was doing something deceitful. But that definitely was not what this was. He had changed too much and as skeptical of those changes as she had been at first, she now knew the changes were sincere. She felt the changes in him in his presence and his aura. She had, for the very first time in their very long marriage, felt love in his kiss. Add to that, he had now saved Snow and David's lives numerous times and she was no longer convinced that he might have ulterior motives behind that. He was a changed man and she somehow wondered if that now had something to do with his disappearance. Despite having changed, the list of enemies her husband had was very long and some were right here in Storybrooke. She was, against all odds and past history, in love with him. She knew that now and was able to admit that now that he was missing, which made her even more anxious about everything. She felt that there was something big on the cusp, but for the life of her, she couldn't discern what exactly it was. All she could do for now was go to this ball tonight, in order to safeguard her family, and hopefully uncover clues as to what had happened to Hades.

~*~

Cronus stood on his balcony of his palace, overlooking the quaint, mystical town of Storybrooke. He had mostly kept to himself since his arrival and was more than a little perturbed when magic was stolen by Circe's interference. He fully expected her to show up tonight with her sheep and fully expected her to come to him to make some kind of deal with him. But he wanted no deals that involved her band of sheep that followed her. If he found that she could be of use to him, then he would use her.

But the real prize was keeping one little family in his sights and convincing them that he was not the enemy. In his past, he had feared magic and power. He had devoured his own children out of fear of their power. But he would not make that mistake this time.

With Zeus gone, he believed he could once again become the supreme God and ruler. But he needed the favor of the people to get that and that was the reason for all this, especially now with no magic was present.

Persephone had favor with the other Gods and the Charmings had favor with the people. Courting them was important to his ultimate plan and for once, he was playing the long game. His path to ultimate power would be a long one and when he finally did achieve what he wanted, they would have long ago labeled him a non-threat.

Without magic though the last few days, he had been at a serious disadvantage to all that had been going on and that is why he sent Phobos out to gather Intel.

"What do you have to report?" he asked, as his new loyal right hand returned.

"Much," Phobos stated.

"Snow White and her husband were nearly killed by Circe's idiotic followers, but thankfully, they survived, while two of the perpetrators did not," he reported.

"How were they killed?" he asked curiously.

"It appears the man was killed by being stabbed, most likely by a sword. I'd venture a guess that the Prince killed him in protecting his beloved. But the woman...is what concerns me," Phobos responded.

"How so?" Cronus asked.

"She died after being struck by lightning. There was a storm up on that mountain...and I do not believe it was natural," Phobos answered.

"What are you saying?" Cronus requested.

"I fear that Zeus' ultimate power has already chosen a new host," Phobos stated.

"That's...unfortunate. Do you believe you know who?" he asked.

"I believe it's Persephone," Phobos replied.

"Then that makes things far more complicated," Cronus said, obviously troubled by this.

"I think we can still use this to our advantage," Phobos responded.

"How so?" he asked.

"Let me endear myself the Persephone and the Charmings. I am the brother that was sacrificed to bring Deimos back. Whatever relationship Persephone has now with Hades cannot escape that fact, even if she has forgiven him and he has changed," Phobos replied.

"You think they will not be threatened by you?" he asked. Phobos smirked.

"I am the God of fear...which is different that terror. My brother is the embodiment of terror, but fear works very differently. I am almost positive that my idiotic, brute of a brother will approach Snow White this evening. He won't be able to help himself. Let me step in and defend the Charmings against him," he said.

"Are you going to actually goad your brother into attacking you?" Cronus asked. Phobos smirked.

"I am not thrilled about that prospect, but it would provide me an in with them and on your behalf," he offered.

"That is very loyal of you, Phobos, but I am no fool. Tell me what you get from this?" he questioned.

"Your rule means my prosperity, my Lord. And if that leads to me being my brother's ultimate demise, after I torment him for my own amusement, then that will be icing on the cake," Phobos responded.

"All right...I will allow this. But Persephone having the power that is rightfully mine is still a glaring problem," Cronus reminded.

"And when the time is right, we will force her to relinquish the power to you. There are ways. Trust in me, My Lord, and you will eventually be the supreme God," Phobos promised.

"Then we will both have our revenge," Cronus agreed, as they witnessed the people of Storybrooke begin to flock to his palace, dressed for that evening's Grand Ball...

[magic5ball]

Nature Trail to Hell Arc V: Back into Hell (IX)

Chapter 9: The Dread Chaunt of Sardoth

“Dang right!” crowed the bird. “And I’m here to save your freaking a- I mean, behind.”

On my end, shock became curiosity right quick.

“So, not to be a butt or anything, but why are we on a plane?”

At least, the place we were in sure looked like the insides of a plane: some kind of ecru cylinder with rows of seats facing one direction and an aisle in the middle. And in between each row were little windows where clouds racing by outside. Topping it all off was the issue of SkyMall F-Bomb somehow clutched in his wings.

My ex-friend cocked an eye at this question, like I’d just asked him what the color yellow was.

“No, Watt, we’re inside the world’s biggest taco!”

“Then where’s the ground beef and sour cream?”

F-Bomb smacked his head at this. “Okay, first, that’s only American Tacos! Second, I was being sarcastic, you f- I mean, you moron! Yes, we’re in a plane. A plane in your imagination!” He fluttered his wings all slow-like at the last part for emphasis.

I thought back to when I was still conscious. Remembered that dumb ‘Orange you glad’ sticker.

“We’re inside my head, then.”

F-Bomb grinned as well as he could with that stiff beak of his.

“Yes, that’s what I said. And I’m here to save the fuc- the freaking day!”

Granted, this raised a lot more questions than it answered, mostly how being in a plane in my imagination was my secret to stopping an eldritch demon lord from taking over the world, but if there’s one thing my crazy summer had taught me, it was to hear folks out, no matter how nutty they sounded. That being said…

“And how are you going to do that?!” I sputtered, engaged as I was in some grade-A skepticism. “Ms. Hoebag- er, Bob-Sardoth has the whole camp under his satanic thumb! And here I am, stuck in my own brain because I was too dumb to realize the goth kid just wanted to hang out with me!”

From the tears started gushing down my face as F-Bomb literally took me under his wings, something I honestly never expected of the guy.

“And now I am a no good douche canoodle talking to his own imagination!”

“Look, Watter-chan,” started F-Bomb “I’m astral projecting myself all the way from Kyoto to do this, so you better not go giving up on me!” He tore up his issue of SkyMall and gave it to me as tissues. “So shut up and listen when I tell you you’re not a bad kid! Just an idiot who’s made some really, really poor life choices!”

If F-Bomb thought this was somehow helping, it really wasn’t. I just wanted to sink through the floor and fall into the sky, like that girl from the song about a thousand miles.

“Okay, okay! Maybe that wasn’t the best way to phrase it. But my point is, everyone screws up sometimes, Watt, and you’re not any more rotten than anyone else because of it!”

“R-really?”

“Yeah! You just have to change a bit, is all. I mean, look at me!” he cried, pointing to a giant pillow enjoying an in-flight movie in one of the seats behind him. It had a girl with a red sweater drawn on it. “And say hello to my new girlfriend, Tosaka Rin!”

“Girlfriend? What happened to Sailor Moon?!”

“As did I, Watter-chan. My point is, anyone can change, so you better shape up, because right now, there’s a girl up there who could really use your hand!”

“I don’t know, F-Bomb. She’s kind of mad at me. And tricked me into raising the spawn of ultimate evil. And called me a meanie-bo-beenie.”

“First, have some soap kid. Wash that filth out of your mouth. Second, have you ever thought, that maybe, just maybe, she’s doing this because she thinks she’s a bad seed, too?”

“I dunno.” I sniffled. “Her allegiance to Bob-Sardoth seemed pretty sincere.”

“Or maybe the bad guys have been using her as a puppet so long she believes that’s all she’ll ever be! Maybe she just thinks she don’t deserve happiness. Believe me, Watter-chan, I’ve played a lot of Japanese dating sims. I’m a senpai on this sort of thing.”

“Then how the heck am I supposed to help her?”

F-Bomb got real frustrated at this. For a moment I could almost see the old him raging from under that bird-face of his.

“THINK! You son of a-“he glanced at Rin “ham sandwich! What’s the number one rule of good people?”

Now, this one seemed simple, but if three years of elementary school pop quizzes had taught me anything, its’ that these questions always have some sort of trick. In other words, I just had to point the old finger gun in the dark, and fire.”

“Uhhh. They don’t want to hurt their friends?”

F-Bomb grinned larger than any brid should have been able to. “BINGO! Now pass go and collect your daily double!”

“F-Bomb, I don’t mean to be a butt, but I don’t see how this helps me…”

“What I mean is, you need to sing THE CHAUNT.”

For a few seconds I puzzled over this little bit of weirdness, before the pieces started coming together.

“Wait, that song?! But if I sing that-!!”

F-Bomb put a big old feather over my mouth. “It’s a risk you’re going to have to take!”

“But HOW?! What’s to stop Bob-Sardoth from just cutting me off midway through?! We don’t even have a camp mascot to-”

“Who said you’d have to use a camp mascot?”

My body went cold as I realized just what that crazy bird was getting at. Now, I’d been through my fair share of crazy schemes, but THIS!...

“B-but nobody knows all the lyrics!” A petty excuse, I know. Just a piece of me hoping that maybe there might be another, less life risky way.

F-Bomb sighed in the shrill way only dinos can. “Don’t go pulling my leg, kid. I think somebody DOES know. He’s just too chicken to admit it!”

Because after a wild, crazy summer of getting thrown into the frying pan a thousand times over, I couldn’t deny the weeabird facing me was right. I knew exactly what I needed to do. Just never imagined it would be so undignified, and especially not that it would be Ms. Hoebag of all people who’d inadvertently handed me the key to humanity’s salvation!

Slowly, I lifted my keister outta my seat. There was a camp in desperate need of my day saving expertise.

That, and one more question nibbling my tiny ten year old brain…

“F-Bomb, who’s flying the plane?”

“Huh? Oh yeah! Rin!”

Both of us turned to see her still lying in her now reclined chair, snooze mask over her eyes.

“Uh-oh.”

As if on cue, the tail end of the plane snapped off, sucking us out into the sky.

“Oh, and one last thing!” screeched F-Bomb moments before he vanished into the wild blue yonder. “I know I’ve been a turd and a half, but thank you for being my-!”

To make a long story short:

There was falling.

There was screaming.

Everything went black.

[qqueenofhades]

FAKE MARRIED GARCY IN SALEM, WHAT DOES IT LOOK LIKE GO

Well I also wrote a much smuttier version of this here, but with New Spoiler Information oh Glorious Day, yes. This is now like my… fourth Salem fic. Who needs self-control.

The muggy New England summer air smells familiar, and Lucy can’tthink why, until it comes to her. She did a program at Harvard in her sophomoreyear of high school, aimed at overachievers like her, in colonial Americanhistory. Her mother insisted it would look good on hercollege application, that they weren’t getting her into Stanford on nepotismalone, and of course Lucy went along with it. Wanted to work harder, wanted toplease her mother, wanted to be a historian just like her. Now, of course,they’re standing in 16-goddamn-92, her mother is here somewhere but Lucydoesn’t know where, and Wyatt –

(She doesn’t know where Wyatt is. He just went AWOL. Time forthe mission, he wasn’t there, and she wanted to, she was desperate to know, but they didn’t have time. It went againstabsolutely everyone���s better judgment, but she successfully argued Flynn intohis place. She and Rufus can’t go face a mob of witch-hunters without asoldier. It’s just a fact, and yet.)

Lucy turns around to look at Flynn and Rufus, clambering out ofthe Lifeboat with one more dirty look at each other. Or rather, a dirty lookfrom Rufus – Flynn, for once, seems almost chastened. He straightens up with agrimace, regarding the distant prospect of Salem Town without enthusiasm. Thisis his first trip back since they got him out, and it’s clear he is not at allhappy to see the past again. “So what do the bastards want?”

“That’s what we have to figure out.” Lucy is eager to keep thismission on track. “We have to get down into the village and ask some questions,we – ”

“Ask questions in the middle of a witch hunt?” Flynn pulls hisgun out and checks that it’s loaded. It’s clear what he thinks they’ll need todo, and Lucy isn’t sure he’s wrong. An image of the young soldier begging forhis life in 1918 floats into her head, as she can feel her own hands terriblysteady on the rifle stock, the recoil against her shoulder. She swallowssomething bad-tasting and reminds herself to focus. “Sounds like just the sortof thing to draw attention to us.”

“Like we don’t draw attention anyway!” Rufus snaps. “A blackguy, a psycho in a leather trench coat, and a strange woman! We’ve pretty muchgot targets on our backs already – you got any ideas of your own, or are youjust going to shoot down anything we come up with? Get it, shoot?”

Lucy looks at him in troubled concern, reaching out to put herhand on his arm, but Rufus imperceptibly flinches away. “Rufus,” she says.“It’s – it’s going to be all right.”

It sounds trite and stupid, knowing she can’t guarantee itanyway, but it makes Rufus soften enough to look at her. Both of them areclearly missing Wyatt, but Lucy at least trusts their replacement in a way thatRufus doesn’t at all, with good reason. “Come on,” she says. “Come on, okay?Rittenhouse will stick out as well, we won’t be the only strangers in town. Weneed to find Colonel Nathaniel Saltonstall, he’s the only man in Salem whoopposes the trials. Warn him that they’re going to get much worse, or…”

“So what’s our cover?” Rufus’s shoulders hunch. “I’m yourmanservant, because yay, racism andhe’s – ” He still can’t bring himself to say Flynn’s name. “Your pet mentalpatient?”

Flynn and Lucy look at each other, then open and shut theirmouths. Neither of them appear to have thought of this.

“We, ah,” Lucy says. “We’ll figure that out.”

They walk down the hill carefully. They’ve tangled with enoughof the Rittenhouse sleeper agents by now that they aren’t underestimatinganything, and Salem is already a town on edge for any hint of anything demonic.Lucy can’t be certain how far along in the trials they are, but it’s June, andthis started back in February, which means the hangings have either juststarted or are about to. Lucy is still trying to work out how Rittenhouse canmake this worse – hang more women?It’s a sick way to think about it, but since the world kills women all thetime, are a few extra casualties at Salem really going to make a difference?What do they have in mind aside from just…?

Lucy is also discovering that, as Rufus says, it’s very hard tomove around by herself. People turn and look at her as she walks byunaccompanied, until she wants to tell them that this religious-repressionthing is not going to work out for anyone and they should just give it a rest.But that, of course, would backfire on her in exactly the way they’re trying toavoid.

“Saltonstall?” Lucy asks someone, as politely as she can.“Nathaniel Saltonstall?”

The man, a middle-aged sort in a stiff black hat, eyes her verydubiously. “Where is your husband, mistress?”

Lucy doesn’t see what her marital status has to do with asking aquestion, unless he thinks she’s a concubine of Satan here to tempt him. Heprobably does, but that’s not helpful. She’s about to tell the truth, until shecatches sight of Flynn across the way, and nods at him. “Over there.”

The man eyes Flynn, seems to decide he may not want to pick afight, and finally jerks his head. “Saltonstall lives up the close. That way.”

“Thank you.” Lucy decides to avoid pushing her luck, but sheshould warn Flynn before someone else asks. She hurries back in his direction.“I found where Saltonstall lives. Where’s Rufus?”

“He went in to ask.” Flynn jerks his head at the shop. “Didn’tseem to want me to come.”

Lucy looks at him in a blend of exasperation, weariness, anduncertain, unspoken – something. She doesn’t know what, she never does with him. Finally she says, blurting it out as fast as possible, “I – overthere, that man. I – I may have told him that we were married. Just in caseanyone asks.”

An extraordinary expression crosses Flynn’s face, which hequickly tamps down. Then he nods. “Yes,” he says curtly. “I see. Sensible.”

Lucy eyes him for a moment longer, but whatever else she mightbe about to say is interrupted as Rufus re-emerges, looking disgruntled.“Saltonstall lives that way,” he says, pointing – in the opposite way Lucy’sbeen directed. “Apparently.”

“Wait, are you sure? The other man said it was that way.”

Rufus frowns at her. It’s clear that it’s unlikely for twopeople who have presumably lived here their entire lives to get the residenceof a well-known citizen wrong, and Lucy feels a faint chill down her spine.Then she says, “I’ll go look at this one, you two the other, then we – ”

“Split up?” Flynn scowls at her. “What sort of husband am Isupposed to be, exactly?”

It’s on the tip of Lucy’s tongue to remind him that technically,he’s no husband at all, that was just a convenient lie, but she stops. “Look.”She reaches out to put a hand on his wrist. “You and Rufus need to work on somethings, clearly. I’ll be all right for five minutes.”

“One of our informants is either lying or an idiot, Lucy.” Hiseyes don’t leave her face. “I don’t like those odds.”

“I’ll be fine.” Lucy’sfingers inadvertently link around his, and both of them glance at it. Shespends a lot of time these days convincing people of this. “I trust you. Rufusdoesn’t. Just… look after him, all right? Do that for me.”

Flynn’s gaze remains on her, as if asking who is going to lookafter her. Finally, somewhat tooslowly, he pulls his hand out of hers. “Five minutes, then back here.”

“Of course.” Lucy beckons them off. “Go on.”

When they’ve crossed the square, not without a look back at her,she picks up her skirts and hurries in the direction indicated by the man sheasked. It’s a somewhat ordinary-looking house, a little drab for a colonel anddecorated townsman, and Lucy feels a brief qualm that this was in fact somekind of setup. Still, she braces herself and knocks.

After a pause, a young woman opens the door. She doesn’t lookRittenhouse, but Lucy has learned by now that that is a fallacious distinction– Rittenhouse can look like anything, that’s their gift. “Can I help you,mistress?”

“I’m sorry for the interruption.” Lucy smiles deferentially. “IsNathaniel Saltonstall here?”

The woman squints at her in confusion. “What? No. I’m AbiahFranklin.”

AbiahFranklin. Lucy’s pretty sure that name sounds familiar, though she can’tthink why. “I’m sorry, I – have we… met?”

“Not that I recall. My husband Josiah, he’s a candlemaker upfrom Boston, and we’ve – ” Abiah gestures at their present surroundings. “Beendelayed returning.”

JosiahFranklin. A candlemaker from Boston. That now, that, Lucy doesknow, and a bolt of lightning goes through her. Josiah and Abiah Franklin haveten children, the first of whom might have already been born, but the last sonof which won’t be born until 1706. His name? Benjamin. Abiah Franklin is fromNantucket, but she’s not supposed to be anywhere near Salem, was neveroriginally accused or mixed up in this. But if she was lured here, ifRittenhouse is going to arrest her, if Benjamin is never born –

“Who did you say you were?” Abiah frowns at Lucy. Visits fromstrange women asking about prior acquaintances aren’t exactly welcome rightnow. “Mrs…?”

“Flynn. Mrs. Flynn. My husband and I are… also passingthrough. I’m sorry, I was told this was the Saltonstall house for some reason,but – ”

Abiah doesn’t answer. Her eyes are fixed over Lucy’s shoulder,at someone – something – coming closer. Lucy whirls around at the same time,and thus learns the literal meaning of “torches and pitchforks.”

This was a setup. She was directed here at the same time thewitchfinding mob was already coming for Abiah. Now here she is, in apparentcahoots with Rittenhouse’s Number One target, who they will have told everyoneis the worst witch alive, and –

“Wait,” Lucy says, holding out her arms and frantically tryingto beckon Abiah behind her. “Wait, wait, thisis a mistake. No, you can’t take her, no. No!”

“Silence, witch!” The leader of the brute squad aims a backhandat her, which Lucy only barely dodges. “We have received sworn testimonies asto this woman’s most despicable and demonic character, her consort with thedevil, her – ”

Briefly, Lucy thinks if anyone is consorting with the devilhere, it’s not Abiah, but that is not helpful (and not true – Flynn isn’t thedevil, not by a long shot). She grabs onto the man’s arm, doesn’t know if he’sanother sleeper agent or just a zealous local thug. “YOU CAN’T TAKE HER!”

Abiah is startled, not expecting this defense from a woman she’snever seen, as one of the witchfinders shoves Lucy aside – she stumbles,banging her shoulder on the door – to grab Abiah. Someone else snatches Lucy,and she kicks and struggles, at least until another blow catches her across theface, and she sees stars. The shock of it is worse than the pain. She has neveractually been hit before. Not like that, personally and directly, and it makesher bite her tongue with a click. She’s dazed enough that she can’t reallystruggle as they’re hauled off.

They’re dumped in a hot, close room with other women in theirwhite mob caps and collars, everyone huddled and sweaty and scared and notwilling to meet anyone’s gaze. Lucy’s eye is swelling, and Abiah hesitates,then unties her kerchief and dips it in the scanty bucket of drinking water,dabbing at it. “Are you all right?”

“I’m…” Lucy knows that this is not the greatest situation,that the accused are often tried and hanged quickly, that she disappeared justas she promised Flynn and Rufus she wouldn’t, and there’s no guarantee thatthey have any clue where she is. Maybe the frothing mob was a clue, but –perhaps they were too far away. Maybe they found Saltonstall, or maybeRittenhouse found them. Lucy musters a shaky smile. “I’m all right. We have toget you out of here.”

Abiah frowns at her quizzically. “Why me?”

“Because you’re… you’re not supposed to be here, are you?”Lucy tries to think how to phrase this without sounding totally insane. “You’reinnocent.”

“So are you.” Abiah looks wry. “So are all these women. But thatdoesn’t matter right now, does it?”

“I… no.” Lucy stops. Life-threatening peril is just Mondayfor her now, so it’s not as if this is a terrible shock to the system. But thisis just stupid. Even more, perhaps, because she could have, should have seenthis coming, and walked straight into it anyway. Proving something, or tryingto show that she could Handle This, or – she doesn’t know. It was reckless.“I’m sure someone will come for you.”

“Josiah’s been gone since yesterday.” A fine line of worrycreases Abiah’s brows. “What about your husband?”

Yes, Lucy thinks, Josiah probably has been. Either Rittenhousekilled him, and cut out the bother of getting Abiah convicted, or they justinvented something to keep him out of town while they do God knows what withhis wife and the other women. Then, since Abiah’s still waiting for an answer,Lucy says, “My, ah, my husband will… he’ll come. If he can find out intime.”

She doesn’t know where the conviction arises from, when afterall, in all logicality, she shouldn’t be sure if Flynn will leave her here ornot. But she isn’t. She just knows. He’ll come.

If he can find out in time.

If they don’t kill him too.

If he and Rufus don’t kill each other.

Lucy settles against the wall and tries to think positively.

Things, to say the least, do not go well when Flynn and Rufusreturn from their errand (it was Saltonstall’s house, but he wasn’t there) tofind Lucy gone, rumors making the rounds that two more witches have beenseized, and that the Court of Oyer and Terminer is convening for an emergencysession. It takes them a bit, but they confirm that one of the women is a Mrs.Franklin, and the other is a Mrs. Flynn. At this, Rufus’s eyebrows almost flyoff his head, but he swivels to stare pointedly at Flynn. “I’m taking it that’sher?”

“Must be. Yes.” Flynn tries to focus, to speak calmly, but histhoughts have turned into a screaming wall. Mrs.Franklin seems tangentially important as well, but he can only focus on onething. They have her. Rittenhouse has her, or at least these pitchfork-wavingshitheads do, and –

No. No. Not this. Not again.

He and Rufus have an even more rocky time trying to find whereLucy is being held. It might be faster to split up, but like hell are theydoing that again, especially as nightfall draws near and the mood of the townis clearly ripe for suffering. Humans have always gotten something perverse andprimal about watching their fellows be hurt, and a public hanging, thespectacle of an accused witch cast down, is unmissable. Ripe familyentertainment. God, these people need Netflix to be invented.

(Besides. There will be no hanging. No hanging.)

He and Rufus are too focused on finding Lucy to snark – much –especially when they get waylaid by the Puritan brute squad and a number ofthem regretfully run face-first into Flynn’s fists. They barely get away fromthat when some weasels who are definitely Rittenhouse jump Rufus, and Flynn hasto waste more time taking them out. When he finally gives a rather breathlessRufus a hand to his feet, the other man looks at it for a long moment, thenaccepts. “I didn’t think you were going to do that,” he says stiffly, brushinghimself off. “So. Thanks. For that.”

Flynn jerks his head in a brief nod. “You said if I got youshot, I was driving.”

“Yeah.” Rufus looks warily down the dark street. “So that wasit?”

“And I…” Flynn blows out a breath. “I owed you one. ForChicago. I had my reasons. But… I’m sorry.”

Rufus looks at him again, taken off guard. Finally he says, “Youknow, you were right about one thing.Rittenhouse is really terrible.”

Flynn almost smiles, but it’s too grim. “Come on,” he saysinstead. “Let’s find Lucy.”

They end up barely doing this in time. Flynn doesn’t know whatassholery has gone on, but they make it to the hanging hill just as Lucy andher companion are being marched up to where the noose dangles ominously from atree. In the wild, uncertain torchlight, Lucy’s face actually looks scared, andFlynn doesn’t know what happens, exactly, or what breaks inside him. Only thatsomething does, there is a sea of torches and leering, angry, frightened faces,and he’s not, he’s just utterly and fundamentally not, about to let this happen again.

“GET AWAY FROM MY WIFE!” He jumps down, pulls out his gun, andfires a warning shot in the direction of who looks like the asshole-in-chief –Mather, Flynn thinks that’s the one, Cotton Mather. There are screams and scramblesas the Salemites dodge for cover, Rufus whirls around and punches one in thenose – not the best punch, perhaps, but he’s learning – and he and Flynn rolltoward the gallows like a juggernaut, as Lucy catches sight of them. Her eyeslock with Flynn’s, and something twists in his gut like a dagger. It’s sweetand deadly and unbearable and transcendent all at once.

The next instant, Flynn reaches the gallows, holds out his armsto her, and Lucy wastes no time at all in leaping down into them. He holds herclose, wrapping his jacket around her, but she doesn’t want comfort, exactly. “Mrs.Franklin!” she yells, pointing up at the other woman. “Get her!”

Flynn doesn’t want to let go of Lucy, but he also wants to followher instructions, so he pushes Lucy back to Rufus’s custody, swivels to punchanother attempted interfering idiot, and holds out his arms for the mysterious Mrs.Franklin. As he lifts her down, she gives him a curious, relieved, shaky look. “Youmust be Lucy’s husband?”

A certain, impossible, desperate joy sweeps through him. Heallows himself, for one raw moment, to imagine it. It will be left behind inthe past anyway. It always is. It fades.

“Yes,” Flynn says. “Yes, I am.”

It takes more time after that for them to get away from the mob,to make it back to the house where Lucy was held and to rescue the other women –Lucy has no interest in preserving history to the letter anymore, feels a ferociousthrill as she, Rufus, and Flynn haul them to their feet and tell them to run –and order Abiah to go as well, find her Josiah and go back to Boston and livethe life she was planning. There is other idiocy, because there always is, butfinally, it’s very late (or very early, there’s a flush of pink in the east),the battered trio is climbing back to the Lifeboat, and Lucy is so exhaustedthat she’s swaying on her feet. As Flynn gives her an arm, seemingly withoutthinking or meaning to, she grips hold of it and looks up at him. “Thank you,”she says, quietly and fiercely. “Thank you for coming for me.”

He looks as if he might come back with one of his usual Flynn comments,but he doesn’t. Instead, almost choked, he nods. “Did you think I’d let thosebastards get you?”

“No.” Lucy is so tired, so tired. His face floats weirdly in thedarkness, among the stars. “I knew you’d save me.”

Flynn tries again to answer, and can’t. Instead, all at once, heslides one arm behind her shoulders, the other below her knees, and carries her(fittingly – they are faux-married,after all) bridal-style the rest of the way back to the Lifeboat. She lets herhead drop onto his shoulder, her eyes drifting closed, as they finally reachit, he sets her down, and he and Rufus haul the brush aside – they really hadto hide it well on this trip. They aren’t exactly friendly, but there seems tohave been something to pass between them as well.

Flynn comes back to pick Lucy up off the stump where she’s beensitting, and helps her up the steps. Their hands linger in each other’s grip,and don’t let go immediately.

It’s not much waiting back in 2018, but it’s their home.

Theirs.

Who would ever have thought.

“All right,” Lucy says quietly. “Let’s go.”