#they pop out when the mara strikes

[mspaintbladie]

kfc be damned i'm thinking about him again

[mattnben-bennmatt]

Matt Damon and Casey Affleck's interview with Parade (2 August 2024)

Matt Damon and Casey Affleck Reflect on Life Before Fame: 'We Had Mattresses On the Floor'

The Academy Award-winning duo talks first roles, finding success and 'The Instigators,' their hilarious new heist movie.

By Mara Reinstein | Photography by Alexia Barroso [Matt's eldest daughter]

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Any story about Matt Damon and Casey Affleck must start with Boston. It’s their home, where they met, became friends and started their acting careers. The city also serves as the backdrop for soooo many of their charming anecdotes.

Here’s one: Growing up in the 1980s, the two of them—along with Affleck’s older brother, Ben—found work as extras by hitting up a family friend who happened to be a local casting agent. They had slightly different approaches to the work, Damon recalls.

“Ben and I were in high school and took it very seriously,” Damon says. “But Casey had it figured out. He’d show up with a basketball because if you came with a prop, you’d get an extra $5.”

Casey chimes in, “They did crowd work. I liked to stand out, so I’d do individual street crossing!”

Fast forward almost 40 years, and Damon, 53, and Affleck, 48, both are instantly recognizable movie stars with seven Oscar nominations and two trophies between them. (Damon won in 1998 for writing Good Will Hunting with Ben; Casey nabbed Best Actor for 2016’s Manchester by the Sea.) They’ve acted together in projects like the Ocean’s trilogy and in last year’s smash Oppenheimer (albeit without any shared scenes.) Now they’re the leads in a scrappy and smart comedy-thriller heist movie. Guess where it takes place?

In The Instigators (in select theaters on Aug. 2; streaming on Apple TV+ on Aug. 9), they play Boston-area dads from different backgrounds brought together to rob the city’s corrupt mayor. After the heist goes awry, the pair go on the run even as they’re pursued by criminals and various law enforcements. (Hong Chau, Jack Harlow, Ron Perlman, Ving Rhames and Michael Stuhlbarg round out the ensemble.)

“Our primary goal was that it would be fun and the audience was going to have fun and we wouldn’t overstay our welcome,” Damon explains.

No doubt “fun” is the operative word for these two judging by their dynamic during a joint interview recently with Parade. At the outset, Damon—Zooming from his home in Brooklyn Heights—cheerfully offers this about the slightly tardy Affleck: “I’ll give him s–t when he comes on … I’ve been doing it for 40-something years!”

After the L.A.-based Affleck pops onscreen, Damon fulfills his promise.

Affleck replies, “Hey, it’s a little earlier out here!”

Their relationship is akin to a brotherhood. They like to talk shop and cheer on their Boston sports teams. Their kids are all friends. Damon and his wife, Luciana Barroso, have daughters, Isabella, 18, Gia, 15, and Stella, 13, and stepdaughter, Alexia, 26. Affleck and his ex Summer Phoenix share two sons, Indiana, 20, and Atticus, 16.

“Casey’s kids are older and cooler,” Damon says. “And Indie is a handsome young gentleman. When he comes to dinner at our house, it causes quite a stir!”

Three days after their Parade interview, Damon and Affleck were set to throw out the first pitch in Fenway Park as their beloved Boston Red Sox played the New York Yankees. (FYI, one key scene in The Instigators is set inside the historic baseball stadium.) While they were excited about it, Damon joked, “If we embarrass ourselves, don’t put it in the story!”

OK, deal. But everything else is fair game for this week’s Parade cover story.

Mara Reinstein: So, no nerves about the first pitch?

Matt Damon: We’ve played a lot of games of catch in our lives, so it’s not going to be an issue. I mean, if we have to throw a strike from the mound, that’s a little harder.

Casey Affleck: I had surgery on my elbow and haven’t thrown a baseball in a couple of years, so this will be my first time!

Damon: He has a really good arm. I’m only worried if Casey’s elbow falls off. 

[UPDATE: They handled it beautifully.]

Matt, didn’t you and Ben sit in Fenway Park as extras during that famous Moonlight Graham scene in Field of Dreams?

Damon: Yeah, we were two of 3,000 extras for a few days. And Casey used to sell sausages outside the park on Yawkey Way.

Affleck: It was illegal! But I did it in eighth grade, ninth grade and tenth grade.

Was The Instigators always going to be set in Boston?

Affleck: It’s possible we would have re-set it there if it wasn’t. It’s just easier to make a movie where you know the place inside and out.

Casey also co-wrote the screenplay. Did you always have Matt in mind to play your partner in crime?

Damon: Absolutely not!

Affleck: I send Matt everything, and it’s usually “No.” So now it’s just an exercise in rejection.

Damon: I think it's because he hadn’t written this for me that I really wanted to do it. But Casey showed it to me, and I started talking to him about it. Midnight Run [from 1988] is one of our favorite movies, and it's kind of the North Star if you're going to try to do a movie like this. Hopefully our movie is like that. You care about the characters and it leaves you with something.

Do you think about your friendship when you film a movie together?

Damon: You can’t not think about it. I don't think we think about it in the terms that people on the outside do. I mean, Casey drives me absolutely crazy, and I say this in a loving way, like the way your brother [Ben] can drive me crazy. But I love working with him because he pushes me and I push him. And there's something very, very nice about it. We tend to spend a lot of time in this business on diplomacy. People's egos are involved, and you don't want to hurt anybody's feelings. But with Casey or with Ben, the dance is just entirely dispensed with, and we just are very blunt with each other. It really helps to have people that you've known for a long time because it's never in doubt that there's an underlying love and respect and loyalty to each other.

Casey, what’s your take on it?

Affleck: He said it perfectly. But coincidentally I just had this experience last night: So I smashed my toe really bad, and I had to go out with my girlfriend [actress Caylee Cowan] to Rite Aid late at night. We hobbled up to the door just as the store was locking up. So we turned around in this empty parking lot and I’m hopping on one foot. I looked up, and there was this Instigators poster all lit up with our dumb faces on it. I just laughed aloud. It was funny after all these years that the two of us are up there on this huge billboard. Times like that I think it’s really funny, and I think about our friendship. But not when we’re filming the movie.

You two lived together in L.A. with Ben in the mid-‘90s before hitting it big with Good Will Hunting. Do you miss that time in your life or are you relieved that you’re no longer struggling?

Damon: When I say Casey drives me crazy, it's rooted in experience like that. Like Casey graduated high school, and he and his close friend who had also graduated high school moved in with Ben and me. So we’re in our early 20s, and these two 18-year-olds wreaked havoc on our living situation for a year. But we had a great time and those were actually really wonderful years. I do look back now on those years really fondly. But it wasn't easy—we were all worried and it was a very insecure time. We all had mattresses on the floor. The house was a mess. We were young and full of ideas and nervous about what our lives would bring, and I don't miss that feeling.

Affleck: I’m nostalgic for any period other than the last 10 years. Like anything before I turned 30 was really the best. I was, like, sleeping on the floor and had really difficult and challenging things going on in my life but I still love that period because it was so fun. In some ways, it was really fun to not think about a career at all and not have any personal expenses and responsibilities, and to just take jobs that you liked that were exciting and just a little bit beyond your grasp. Matt and I did a play together in London [This Is Our Youth in 2002], and I thought it was so new and exciting.

Did you honestly foresee each other’s wild success?

Affleck: Well, Matt was older than me—I was in high school when he started to work. Also, I always assume that it's easy to see the talent and intelligence in others, and feel like, Jeez, I hope nobody notices that I don't have any of that. Everyone feels like a fraud a little bit. So I was never surprised that Ben and Matt succeeded because I was around for them for years and watched them write their own success.

And Matt gave Casey his Oscar-winning role as a grieving father in Manchester by the Sea. Could you ever imagine the day?

Damon: That was the best role that I'd seen in maybe 20 years. But I couldn’t do it because I had The Martian and a big spate of work lined up. I told Kenny [writer-director Kenneth Lonergan], “The only person in the world that I will give this role to is Casey” because he was the only person who could do it the way it deserved to be done. I'm not surprised at all by any of Casey’s success. He's one of the best actors in the world, and he has been for a very long time.

Matt, your daughter took the Parade cover photo. That must have been quite the proud dad moment!

Damon: That’s Alexia. She’s 26 now and has always had an incredible eye. She's always wanted to be a photographer and cinematographer. That's the part of the business that always appealed to her. Now she took these shots of us that are on a cover! There was a moment when she was like, “OK, sit back-to-back on the floor.” And Casey turns to me and goes, “There is no one else in the world I would do this for.” She’s like a secret weapon.

Do you think your other daughters will be artists, too?

Damon: You know they're not quite all adults yet. Our second-oldest is on her way to college, and then we've got a 15-year-old and a 13-year-old. But I want them to do whatever they want. We don’t put any pressure on them. I think oftentimes, it seems to be generational—you grow up in the circus, and so the circus seems like kind of a normal way of life. But I don't know that any of my other kids will go into it. I can see the younger three all doing various different jobs and doing them really well.

Casey, are your sons interested in the Hollywood thing?

Affleck: I hope they don’t do the Hollywood thing. Also, it's just hard to know what you want to do with your time. They’ve both done plays and theater programs and have made little films at home. That's what we were doing at that age, so if that's any indication, then maybe they will. But I don't think the movie business has quite the same allure that it did when I was their age, because so many other things scratch that itch. So they don't go to movies as much, they don't watch movies quite as much as we did. I think they love expressing themselves dramatically for sure. But I'm not sure if they're dying to go be in a movie.

When was the last time you went to the movies?

Affleck: I just took my son to see Lawrence of Arabia, the new 70-millimeter print, at The Egyptian. And it was unbelievably beautiful and this overwhelming cinematic experience that I hadn’t had in years. It was in this beautifully renovated movie theater, and the movie really casts a spell. Movies now just don’t do that. It’s a bummer that people don't often go out of their house and show up to see something like that.

Is that why both of you also write and produce? You have to stay fulfilled, no?

Affleck: I think so. You have to do that to stay creatively satisfied between new things and take on new challenges. At a certain point, you feel like you have your own stories you want to tell, now that you start to feel like you understand how movies are made and that you can be the person who's in charge for once.

A very important last question: What’s your Dunkin’ order?

Damon: Large regular coffee. I try to cut down on the sugar now, but that's my coffee order. And then, and then, it just depends on … you know, I love a chocolate doughnut.

Affleck: Chocolate glazed and a large black coffee for me.

Damon: Yeah, but his coffee has cream and sugar in it!

This interview has been condensed and edited for length and clarity.

[historyhermann]

My Dad the Bounty Hunter Season 2 Spoiler-Filled Review

My Dad the Bounty Hunter is a coming-of-age animated sci-fi adventure series by Everett Downing Jr. and Patrick Harpin. It is a continuation from the first season, which came out in February. It comes at a time when Black-centered animations are blossoming. This piece was written during the 2023 WGA and SAG-AFTRA strikes. Without the labor of the writers and actors currently on strike, My Dad the Bounty Hunter, being reviewed here, wouldn't exist.

Reprinted from Pop Culture Maniacs and Wayback Machine. This was the forty-eighth article I wrote for Pop Culture Maniacs. This post was originally published on September 4, 2023.

The second season of My Dad the Bounty Hunter picks up where the last one left off. Sean (voiced by JeCobi Swain) tells a story about his space adventures in class. Lisa (voiced by Priah Ferguson) acts like know-at-all to her science teacher. She declares that their dying planet and slow technology growth will ensure that outer space exploration is impossible. Their mother, Tess (voiced by Yvonne Orji) comes to school, learning that the school administrators see Sean as a genius, but they see Lisa as a problem student. She talks to her husband, Terry (voiced by Laz Alonso), who is working at a shoe store, telling him they shouldn't keep secrets. Everything goes awry when a bounty hunter captures him, which she, Sean, and Lisa see, traumatizing them.

And that is only the first episode. This season throws you right into the action with new characters like Blobby (voiced by Patrick Harpin), a scammer extraterrestrial who was once captured by Terry in his bounty hunter persona of "Sabo." Later, Tess puts herself, and her kids, in danger. She travels in Glorlox's stolen ship to a nearby prison. She hopes that Terry is imprisoned there, while there's an active bounty on her head. There are typical sci-fi elements like space warping and laser battles. Scenes in the space restaurant Bucky Quantos and A.I. like KRS (voiced by Yvette Nicole Brown) enhance this. The quick action and exciting plot make the series even more engaging. It draws you into the animation, by Dwarf Animation Studio, which has a smooth 3-D style.

The Conglomerate, officially known as Endless Horizons Conglomerate, are still the villains. With the death of The Fixer in the first season, Pam (voiced by Chelsea Peretti) is the organization's new CEO. However, there is a twist. The Conglomerate is not holding Terry in their prison. Pam claims to investors that the Conglomerate is trying to become "socially conscious." She boasts about reported rehabilitation of criminals to make them "productive" corporate slaves. She further champions the new food options at the ever-popular Bucky Quantos restaurant. The Conglomerate's changes ensure the restaurant is no longer a "glorious palace of meat and grease and cholesterol," as one character puts it. Instead, Pam declares that Conglomerate will connect people, and the universe, with warp gates. She is assisted by robot enforcers, such as Beta (voiced by Mara Junot), who calls Pam "the Creator."

This series reminds me of Okja. The 2017 film mixes the science-fantasy and action-adventure genres. Directed by Bong Joon-ho, also known for Parasite and Snowpiercer, the Mirando Corporation are the villains. The corporation has a similar goal to the Conglomerate. They plan to raise genetically modified super pigs to sell meat to the masses. However, when they kidnap one pig, Okja, its owner, Mija, a young South Korean girl, tries to get it back. She is helped by an animal liberation group to rescue Okja. The group plans to reveal the corporation's misdeeds to the world. Obviously, My Dad the Bounty Hunter is different from Okja, which focuses on the horrors of the food industry. Both have a strongly anti-corporate message even as they are on the streaming platform of Netflix, a conglomerate of its own.

Coming back to My Dad the Bounty Hunter, the second season shares similarities with space operas in the Star Wars franchise, like the third episode. In that episode, the fissures between the family members come to the surface. For one, Sean and Lisa can't enter the casino because they are kids. Only adults are allowed in. Secondly, Tess admits she grew up in constant danger when she was younger but doesn't want to talk about it, making Lisa suspicious. Thirdly, Sean begins to bond with Blobby, and Blobby with Lisa. She gives him tips on playing galactic poker. The episode hints at what is to come. The Widowmaker (voiced by Ralph Ineson) reveals that the Doloraam High Council kidnapped Terry. This terrifies Tess, confusing Sean and Lisa as to her reaction. She is implied to be non-human.

The third episode was the first time I had laughed during the season. The mother of Philip, a cat-faced creature, embarrasses him. She forces him to apologize for insulting Tess. It is moments like that which make me like the series even better. However, at other points, dramatic elements are more emphasized than the comedic ones.

The fourth episode continues directly from the third. The Afrofuturist themes come to the fore. This season is more Afrofuturist than the first season. The Doloraami royalty are revealed: Emperor Odoman (voiced by Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje) and Empress Gurira (voiced by Janet Hubert). Odoman towers above Terry, on the coliseum floor, and conducts the trial against him. Terry gets a sleazy public defender named Ja Boluu. Boluu's voice actor, Godfrey, previously voiced Kofi in Steven Universe. Kofi is a stern, and somewhat authoritarian patriarch, of the Pizza family in Beach City, and owner of the family business. While Boluu is different from Kofi, there are other comparisons between Steven Universe and this series.

In both series, the protagonist is on trial. In Steven Universe, Steven is on trial for his mother's crimes (killing a Diamond). He is accused of being his mother because of the pink diamond in his belly. (Blue) Zircon defends him. She finds a flaw in the Diamonds' case. She accuses them of being complicit. As a result, Yellow Diamond poofs her. The trial in My Dad the Bounty Hunter is quite different. Emperor Odoman charges Terry with spacecraft theft, assaulting a royal guard, and abducting Sa Janeera, princess of Doloraam. Also, his public defender has wronged many people.

As it turns out, Tess is Sa Janeera. Terry acts surprised, but likely knew already. Unlike Steven in Steven Universe, who barely escapes the all-powerful Diamonds, Terry goes through tribulations of fire to annul his guilty sentence. The pompous B'Caala (voiced by Keith David), a Prince-like cat man who desires political power, tries to make a deal. He suggests that Terry narc on Tess. He refuses. Terry loves and cares about her. This refusal shows his loyalty to her.

Viewers who watch this series may see similarities to Black Panther and Black Panther: Wakanda Forever, which have Afrofuturist themes. However, Africanfuturist animations like Kizazi Moto, or futuristic elements in Supa Team 4 are more apt. Black Panther has been criticized for embodying police habits and tendencies. Some have said it sanitizes "cop behavior and brand it as heroism." In contrast, the main characters in My Dad the Bounty Hunter, like Tess and Terry, are on the run from bounty hunters. They are the furthest thing from cops. This series doesn't have copaganda, even though the Kingdom has a retributive justice system.

One of the major themes in My Dad the Bounty Hunter is the importance and value of family. Those ties are tested in this season. Lisa is annoyed that Tess is keeping secrets from her. She ignores Sean's warning about not knowing the full story. This comes to a head in the fifth episode. Adja (voiced by Thando Thabethe) claims Tess made the "wrong" choice in leaving Doloraam. Although this is hurtful, it is nothing compared to Beta kidnapping Lisa and Sean. Tess loses it. She is paralyzed, unsure of her next steps. The credits further emphasize this by not having a music track. This encourages audience members to sympathize with Tess.

These themes mesh with Sean and Lisa's connections to their Doloraami roots. Tess also unlocks her long-forgotten Doloraami powers, allowing her to defeat Beta. Interlinking to one's ancestral identity is not unique to this series. For instance, the Kizazi Moto episode/films "Mkhuzi: The Spirit Racer" and "Hatima" emphasize similar themes, as does the lackluster episode/film "First Totem Problems." Similarly, Carmen Sandiego, in the series of the same name, investigates her Argentinian roots in an important sub-theme of that series. In addition, Amphibia and The Ghost and Molly McGee incorporate Thai culture into the storylines, with the protagonists examining their parentage and ancestry.

Like other nations in Black speculative fiction, Doloraam has independence to make its own decisions. Pam detests this. It puts her plan to seize the planet's crystals, known as Kalatite, in jeopardy. Like in the Kizazi Moto episode/film "Herderboy," with herding of cattle to gain crystals, to power their society, the Kalatite crystals are the foundation of their society. They are sacred and have been in hands of the Doloraami people for generations. It makes sense that the Conglomerate would work with B'Caala in hopes that the royal council will agree to the Conglomerate's terms. Even though the council is unaware of B'Caala's treachery, they are rightly skeptical of the Conglomerate. They worry whether they will be kings or if the Conglomerate will have control instead.

The Conglomerate doesn't put all their eggs in one basket. Pam develops a plan which aims to achieve the Conglomerate's goals. There is a huge demonstration of the "good" that can come from warp portals. This does not convince the royal council. As a result, Pam later grumbles that she is tired of being nice. This implies that she will soon show her "true" nature. Her expression changes after learning that Sean, Lisa, and Tess are royalty. She believes that returning them to Doloraam will cause the royal council to vote in favor of the Conglomerate. This is a major miscalculation.

Odoman and Gurira are glad to see Tess, and meet Lisa and Sean. Terry is freed, after Tess confronts her parents about his kidnapping. B'Caala is tossed aside like a used dishrag. Pam says that because she brought back Tess, she doesn't need him. To make matters worse, his tribe no longer recognizes his sovereignty, after he beats up Terry in a fight. His removal from the royal bloodline dashes his attempt to seize political power. B'Caala is further crest-fallen by Tess's marriage to Terry.

Pam cares little about B'Caala. She only wants the deal with the royal council so she can exploit the citizenry, like any imperialist. She does not want to get involved in leadership squabbles. The royal council gives Pam a container with gold bars for her trouble. At the same time, they reject the Conglomerate's proposal. Gurira says that they cannot, "in good conscience," accept it. She argues that the Kalatite crystals are part of the Kingdom, as are the people and their family. The Conglomerate's real plan manifests itself at the end of seventh episode. Their full-scale invasion almost resembles tactics of the Galactic Empire in the Star Wars franchise. The latter wants order and stability, while cracking down on any who disobeys.

The season's last two episodes involve the struggle against the Conglomerate. It is revealed that Doloraam is not defenseless. A shield protecting the city is activated, as are cannons to fire at invaders. An arsenal of weapons is also revealed. During this fight, Lisa connects with the Kalatite. She fights alongside Adja in the city, calming Tess's worries. Blobby and Sean work together to shut down the portal which is providing the Conglomerate with additional forces for their assault. In a scene akin to an Imperial cruiser falling toward Ryloth, in the Star Wars Rebels episode "Homecoming," the portal's closure slices a Conglomerate ship in half. The end is near. Despite this, Pam desperately attempts to finish the plan, at any cost.

The final episode of My Dad the Bounty Hunter wraps up everything, almost too nicely. The robots accelerate their extraction of Kalatite crystals. Pam has not learned the lesson that Elena (in Elena of Avalor) and Lunella Lafeyette in Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur made abundantly clear: speeding up the timeline only leads to disaster. Glorlox and his crew gives a helping hand, as does B'Caala. He informs Tess about Pam's location. In a conversation with her, he reveals that he wanted to rule the planet, not see it destroyed. Following this is a great hand-to-hand combat scene between Pam and Tess. She pulls out Pam's neural link, implying that the ship she was piloting the ship remotely, like the robots. Of course, this isn't the end.

Tess fights Pam in a battle in a creepy swamp. The true form of Pam is revealed to be a huge alligator-like monster. Tess barely wins the battle. She is heavily injured, and Terry, Sean, and Lisa save her just in time. The fast-forward that follows is typical of many animations, either films or series. Kipo and the Age of the Wonderbeasts had one in the final episode as did Nimona in the end of that film.

The fruits of their victory are apparent. Tess (wearing boots made from Pam's skin) hangs out with her family, her mother (voiced by Leslie Uggams), her friend Adja, and other compatriots on Earth. Everyone bonds. Lisa agrees to show Adja (who has a crush on Glorlox) around Earth. Blobby works with Sean to turn his story into a movie. There is a good, but untrue, quip from Blobby about how "all the good books" get turned into movies.

The series ends on a slice-of-life note. All of them play football together. However, a cliffhanger post-credits scene, which shows a warp gate activating, and a ship passing through, hints at a possible continuation. However, a lack of continuation for My Dad the Bounty Hunter would not leave fans hankering for more, as they do with High Guardian Spice, which has which raises more questions than answers. While the central conflict in the final episodes ended too quickly, the second season finale is perfect. I'm afraid that having another season would ruin that ending for fans and others alike.

In my season one review, I noted that the series impressed me. I described the animation and voice actors as top notch, praised the music selection, and noted that many voice actors were well-known. I also compared the series to episodes of Dogs in Space, Cleopatra in Space, Star Wars: The Bad Batch, and contrasted it with more mature themes in Helluva Boss and Invincible. Those insights still ring true. New characters like Blobby bring more humor to the series. Joshua Mosley's score for the series, often including rap or hip-hop music, can make you excited to watch more.

The voice actors of My Dad the Bounty Hunter are a diverse bunch. JeCobi Swain has been in the entertainment industry since at least 2016. He has voiced characters in Eureka! and Firebuds. In contrast, Priah Ferguson, well-known for her role in the 1980s nostalgia trip known as Stranger Things, voiced Bailey in the subpar animated series, Hamster & Gretel. Yvonne Orji has range as evidenced by the fact that she also voices Gigi in Velma.

Laz Alonso has worked in the entertainment industry since early 2000s. His voice role in this series is one of his first voice roles, apart from some characters in Robot Chicken. Patrick Harpin, who is also this show's creator and a storyboard artist, provided his voice to characters in two Hotel Transylvania films. Yvette Nicole Brown has been very prolific in her voice acting. Brown voiced characters in Strange Planet, The Ghost and Molly McGee, Dogs in Space, Fairfax, and many others.

Voice actors Chelsea Peretti, Mara Junot, Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje, Janet Hubert, Keith David, Thando Thabethe, Leslie Uggams, and Ralph Ineson are just as talented as those previously listed. This series also features Venice May Wong (also called Venice Wong) as Halvey, a friend of Sean and Lisa. Apart from her role in this series, Peretti recently voiced Queenie in Adventure Time: Fiona and Cake. Junot voiced Shoola in Arcane. Akinnuoye-Agbaje is known for providing his voice for Bilal in the film Bilal: A New Breed of Hero. David has voiced characters in Firebuds, The Proud Family: Louder and Prouder, Final Space, DuckTales, and Young Justice. In contrast, this series is one of the first voice roles for Hubert, Thabethe, Uggams, Ineson, and Wong.

The show's cast is stellar, making the characters more relatable. The series is geared toward a Black audience and designed for families. This can draw people in, even those who prefer 2-D animation over 3-D animation. Those who watch it may connect with the messages, social commentary, or other aspects. They may also enjoy the show writing of Harpin, Downing, Justin Gordon-Montgomery, Shakira Pressley, Ryan Harer, or Tomi Adeyemi.

Gordon-Montgomery previously directed episodes of DC Super Hero Girls and storyboarded High Guardian Spice and Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure episodes. Pressley wrote for Craig of the Creek. Harer was a script coordinator for Centaurworld and Middle School Moguls. Adeyemi is a Nigerian-American writer best known for her Legacy of Orïsha trilogy of young adult fantasy novels, which have Afrofuturist themes. All these people comprised the majority-Black writers room for the series.

Overall, the series is fun to watch. It is almost as fun as some Cleopatra of Space episode. In my season one review I said that series was unique and shined. I described it as "not my favorite series ever." In contrast, I enjoyed the second season even more. There are many more series to compare it to now than there was in February. My predictions that the series will explore more about family dynamics and conflicts proved correct, as did the portrayal of a "loving Black family."

However, Lisa did not have a boyfriend or a girlfriend in this season. In fact, neither Lisa nor Sean had romantic connections to anyone else. I think this is purposeful. In fact, Sean cares more about the fate of Beta, and the control she has over her body, than any person, apart from his family and friends. Sadly, the dearth of fan fiction for this series on AO3 or Fanfiction.net makes views of fans on this subject unknown.

As I say with every show that drops on the same day, I would have preferred 1-2 episodes of My Dad the Bounty Hunter air every week. The same "binge" model has been followed for Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts, Supa Team 4, Carmen Sandiego, and latest season of Disenchantment. Hopefully, future series will follow the lead of anime and release only one to two episodes per week.

I liked the emphasis on storytelling, as shown through Sean wanting to tell his own tall tales, and trying to be true to himself. The latter has a parallel in Blobby reuniting with his other half in the sixth episode. It echoes how Steven Universe reunited with Pink Steven in the Steven Universe series finale, "Change Your Mind". Watching this season was worth it. I was glad I did so because this season is more Afrofuturist than the first season, as it addresses concerns and themes of the African diaspora through its speculative fiction and technoculture.

I'm glad I remembered that My Dad the Bounty Hunter even had a second season because I only was reminded when reading social media posts from fans about it. Unfortunately, mainstream reviewers seem to have ignored the second season's release. Despite the fact there are reviews out there, an online search indicated that major sites like The A.V. Club, IGN, Los Angeles Times, CBR, and The Hollywood Reporter have not penned reviews for the show's second season. I'm not sure the exact reason, apart from unconscious racism, but it does this show a disservice in many ways.

At present, the series is on hiatus. Its fate has not been determined. Fans on social media have praised the series as awesome, fun, sweet, beautiful, incredible, and enjoyed the attention to detail. Netflix also deserves criticism for not marketing the series, leaving that job to the fans and creators (and crew). It is a clear insult. On the other hand, the release of this series shows that original stories matter.

My Dad the Bounty Hunter comes out at a time that negotiations to end the strikes of writers and actors are ongoing, with no agreement in sight. Wildbrain's workers have said they are moving to form a union and the animation industry is under strain, with work drying up and studios cutting back on employment. Dwarf Animation Studios is not mentioned on a recently-circulated spreadsheet noting conditions within animation studios. Some reviews on Glassdoor were positive, describing it as having a good company culture. Others noted it can be disorganized or were more critical.

It is not known if Netflix will renew the series for another season. This series comes at an apt time, since many other Black animations are being released nowadays. It is worth checking out, despite Netflix's lack of promotion and mainstream reviewers completely ignoring the second season's release.

My Dad the Bounty Hunter can be streamed on Netflix.

© 2023 Burkely Hermann. All rights reserved.

[noa-ciharu]

Speaking of Eurovision...

As a fellow ESC watcher I would like to ask what your twelve all-time favourite ESC songs are and maybe explain why exactly these if you don't mind •////• 👉👈

And have a nice day~

Oh damn just 12? Thats too difficult 😭 If you don't mind instead I decided to pick a country and then select one of their best songs ♥️

Helena Papariziou - my number one (Greece 2005). Maybe it's just nostalgia, but to me this is Eurovision-est eurovision song that ever won. Fast rhythm, very Greek vibes, catchy tune, nice choreography and voice, what's not to like?

Hari Mara Hari - Lejla (BiH 2006). What to say, beautiful ballad in native language, very powerful voice, in my honest opinion this song should have won back in 2006. But then again, I'm a fan of his music so maybe I'm just biased

Go_A - Shum (Ukraine 2021). What every country should do: send a mix of folklore and modern music in native language. Honestly if I had to choose a country that overal has best entries without a doubt it'll be Ukraine, they never disappoint. What's hard to choose actually is which song of theirs was the best. I can't decide but Go_A's Šum definitely goes into top 3. Also in begging everyone listen to Shady Lady, their 2008's entry

Conchira Wurst - Rise like a Phoenix (Austria 2014). Hands down one of best ballads in English sent in last 20 years. Definitely a deserved win, no matter what public at that time said cuz of her appearance. The 'but I'm gonna fly' part never fails to give me goosebumps. I feel like that song could be trans anthem

Elena Born and Stig Rästa - Goodbye to Yesterday (Estonia 2015). The classic. Very simple yet striking duet, idk how to describe it but there's something rly captivating about the song. Ans they look like they're so in love 🥺

Can Bonomo - Love me back (Turkey 2012). Add to endless list of songs that should have won over Euphoria 🙄 it's a very unique song, very catchy too. Also this is the last year Turkey took part in esc :< I miss their performances 😭

Željko Joksimović - Lane Moje and No name - Zauvjek Moja (Serbia & Montenegro 2004 and 2005) - I tried to choose only one but couldn't ;-; that's how 00s music on Balkan was like, it fills me with nostalgia. Sadly national song content in 2006 was one of reasons why union between two countries collapsed so it's more of pensive nostalgia for people here

Anxhela Peristeri - Karma (Albania 2021). This song was criminally underrated 2 years ago :< powerful ballad, perfect voice, strong tune - idk why she didn't rank higher? Albania always sends good song in their language and gets little points, it's unfair :/

Charlotte Perrilli - Hero (Sweden 2008). Yes I can't believe I'm saying this but there is an underrated swedish entry. I've hear this one back in 2008 and it stick with me ever since. Catchy 00s pop song

Andromache - Ela (Cyprus 2022). This one didn't even qualify ;-; honestly it was one of my faves from last year but it was so obvious she was nervous on stage. Plus song isn't really much of Eurovision material so I sort of understand why she didn't qualify but I adored the song nonetheless 🥰 love hearing Greek language

Dima Bilan - Never let you go (Russia 2006). His voice 🥺 song is so beautiful idk what to say really beside I'm an absolute fan (plus that imma go dig up more of his music). I do like Believe from 2008 too but prefer this song

Paula Seling & Ovi - Playing with fire (Romania 2006). What to say, very catchy song, I like it alot. Love them 90s vibes. Defo one of best Romania sent in last 20 years

Toše Proeski - Life (Macedonia 2004). Alright, I feel like I've bored life out of everyone with Crno i Belo from 2012 so time to bring another underappreciated Macedonian entry. You don't understand, this man was a legend in ex Yu countries 🥺💔 still is to this day

Cascada - Glorious (Germany 2013). Shes one of my fave 00s pop icons, imagine my delight when I heard she's on eurovision 😭 her songs are my childhood ♥️ I just wish she ranked better, idk why only 22th place for such amazing song

Doris Dragović - Marija Magdalena (Croatia 1999). Absolutely best Croatia ever sent, powerful voice, catchy tune, native language - absolutely perfect song in all terms

Alexander Rybak - Fairytale (Norway 2009). One of rare winners I 100% agree with. Violin is amazing there as well as his voice. Breath of fresh air into song context with mixture of traditional and modern I'd say

Monika Liu - Sentimentai (Lithuania 2022). So underappreciated 😭 the style, the elegance, the simplicity, the catchy tune - idk why she didn't get more points tbh

Sirusho - Qele qele (Armenia 2008). As someo3n said in comments - everyone over 18 on Balkan knows this song and that's the case with me too 😂 ethnic flavor, catchy rhymes, one of that years faves for sure

I think I covered around 13-14 counties here, especially some from eastern and central Europe that might get underappreciated. Maybe one day when/if I have time I could choose my fave song from all 50ish European countries (if I'm insane enough)

[emilylangridgegrad604i]

SDL - Grad604 Expand your view

Finding Aotearoa creatives, designers and spaces.

“Design Assembly” The home of New Zealand graphic design. Design Assembly loves to profile the breadth and depth of design practice in Aotearoa. For July they’re celebrating Māori design, designers, and illustrators. 

Ko Taupiri te maunga, ko Te Puehu o Waikato te moana, ko Waikato te awa, ko Tainui te waka, ko Waikato te iwi, ko Ngāti Tamaoho te hapū, ko Mangatangi te marae, nō Tāmaki Makaurau ahau. Ko Sara Moana tōkū ingoa. Sara discusses how her inspiration and creative journey began when she was studying illustration at Elam, looking into her  previous interests of Sculpture and Performance Art. Sara Moana - Freelance illustrator. 

Under the hood with …Nikki Kennedy, Founder of Taputapu He mokopuna ahau nō Te Tairawhiti mai i ngā maunga Hikurangi, Makeo me Maunga Haumi. Ko Ngāti Porou, Te Aitanga a Mahaki me Te Whakatōhea ngā iwi. Ko Nikki Kennedy ahau.

- Aotearoa design and designers showcasing their work in large scale areas such as Sylvia Park mall - showing the large impact and effect that local designers can have. 

“Now that the project has finished we will be installing the artwork on Monday 3rd of July and then the public can enjoy our artwork at Sylvia Park. We are working on a variety of brand packages for our clients, that’s our bread and butter mahi. I’m also heading overseas to share about our Matariki artwork at a Thailand Matariki Gala event which is really exciting to be part of. I will be joining other Māori creatives, carvers and fashion designers to talk about how Matariki influences our design mahi and processes etc.

“Based in Auckland, Seachange are an award-winning design and branding studio—they work from digital design to naming and everything in between. Keeping themselves intentionally small doesn’t stop Seachange creating a big impact—their brands stand out for a whole variety of different reasons. One such brand is Ghost Street Dumplings, a pop-up dumpling, which used the company’s name very literally combined with a cute illustration to create a wonderful, memorable brand.” (Seachange, 2023)

“BrandAid is a brand development and design agency based in Dunedin on New Zealand’s South Island. The award-winning agency’s creative director Luke Johnston has over 19 years experience in the industry—and founded BrandAid 15 years ago. They’ve worked with a huge range of clients, including their home city but it was this reusable packaging for Bay Rd Peanut Butter—which employs striking typefaces to make the look as good as it is for the planet.”

Pohewa Pāhewa: a Māori design kaupapa

1 Jul–3 Sep 2023

Desna Whaanga-Schollum Connection through exploration and the articulation of cultural identity. Projects see her collaborating with a wide variety of communities, business and design professionals, artists and academics to achieve results which affect change in people, practice and place. Desna is actively involved in Māori identity design, discourse and stakeholder engagement in Aotearoa, via design consultancy, research, exhibitions, wānanga, speaking engagements and governance roles.

“Graphic design is about having visual conversations with people. In order to have a good conversation I need to look people in the eye, I need to listen, and I need to know a bit about the topic at hand. People are smart, they know when you’re faking a smile, so it pays to put your heart into it as much as possible.” - Tyrone Ohio “People of Britomart”

“Graham Tipene (Ngāti Whātua, Ngāti Kahu, Ngāti Hine, Ngāti Haua, Ngāti Manu) is a Tā Moko artist who has been involved as a consultant and key artist on civic and Council-led projects throughout Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland. His public work brings Māori kaupapa into the built environment of the city, with major projects including the Waterview tunnel, Victoria Park, Auckland Library, and Tirohanga Whānui Bridge in Albany.In the latest episode of ‘Cultured Conversations,’ Auckland Art Gallery Director Kirsten Lacy speaks with Graham about Tā Moko and on bringing a Māori lens to civic spaces.” 

Johnson Witehira  “My kaupapa (mission) as both an artist and designer is to bring Māori visual culture back into the lives of all Māori. This is done through careful consideration of how indigenous culture, design and technology intersect. We once created all the things in our world; the clothes, buildings, vehicles and tools. Nowadays everything is made for us. If we’re lucky we get to decorate. I want to put Māori back in the drivers seat, so we’re active participants in creating the tools and the world we want to live in.”

Zoe Black

“Zoe has been with the gallery for two years working across curatorial programming, community development and public programmes. During this time she has made an extraordinary contribution to the organisation, leading Māori programming, alongside extensive work with Moana and migrant communities within a kaupapa of co-leadership. This work now forms a key focus of our exhibition programme.The establishment of this new position is an acknowledgement of Zoe’s leadership, and the expanding work Objectspace continues to undertake nationally. It heralds exciting change for the gallery and their small but mighty team.” Objectspace

[femsolid]

@flowerlygirls

I saw your post about your teacher making you study that women are worse at maths than men because they inately lack men's cognitive abilities and I didn't want to reblog it since you tagged it "personal", but I thought you might want to show this to your teacher:

Catherine Good and colleagues used as their participants more than 100 university students enrolled in a fast and difficult calculus class that was a pipeline to the hard sciences. The test packet handed out to each student included some information about the test. Students in the stereotype threat condition were told that the test was designed to measure their maths ability, to try to better understand what makes some people better at maths than others. This kind of statement can on its own create stereotype threat for women, who are well aware of their own stereotyped inferiority in mathematics. But added to this, in the nonthreat condition, was the information that despite testing on thousands of students no gender difference had ever been found. So what was the effect of this extra information? The men and women in the two groups had, on average, all received much the same course grades. You’d expect then, given their apparently equivalent ability, that males and females in the threat and nonthreat condition would perform at about the same level on the test. Instead, the researchers found that females performed better in the nonthreat condition, and this was particularly striking among Anglo-American participants, who generally show the greatest sex difference in maths performance. Among these participants, men and women in the threat condition, as well as men in the nonthreat condition, all scored about 19 percent on this very difficult test. But women in the nonthreat group scored an average of 30 percent correct, thus outperforming every other group– including both groups of men. In other words, the standard presentation of a test seemed to suppress women’s ability, but when the same test was presented to women as equally hard for men and women, it ‘unleashed their mathematics potential.’

The stereotype that females are poor at maths is now officially self-relevant, and this seems to be important. Research suggests that the deadly combination of ‘knowing-and-being’ (women are bad at maths and I am a woman) can lower performance expectations, as well as trigger performance anxiety and other negative emotions. For example, Mara Cadinu and her colleagues at the University of Padova gave women a maths test but beforehand, some women were told that ‘recent research has shown that there are clear differences in the scores obtained by men and women in logical-mathematical tasks’, while the other participants were told that there were no such differences. Before each of the problems in the test, the women were given a blank page on which they were asked to write down anything that popped into their heads. Women in the stereotype threat condition listed more than twice as many negative thoughts about the maths test (like, ‘These exercises are too difficult for me’). As this negativity built up, it increasingly interfered with performance. Although in the first half of the test both groups scored on average around 70 percent, by the latter half of the exercise the control group’s performance had slightly improved (to 81 percent) whereas the threat group’s performance had plummeted to 56 percent.

Stereotype threat effects have been seen in women who: record their sex at the beginning of a quantitative test (which is standard practice for many tests); are in the minority as they take the test; have just watched women acting in air-headed ways in commercials, or have instructors or peers who hold – consciously or otherwise – sexist attitudes."

It's from Delusions of Gender's chapter 3 and 4 I believe, by researcher Cordelia Fine.

[wilted3sunflowers]

characters made for @oznitus​ dorm, ling already knows Mara but now they also get to meet the new group on the block

They all hail from The Emerald Plains 

Mara Malice Species: human Inspired by: Madam Morrible  Height: 5′7″ Age: 21 Favorite Food: salt water taffy Hated Food: Corn [popcorn is the only corn allowed]  Fun Fact: Would have been part an important family but her father ran off with his “true love” in poverty instead of just marrying who he was arranged with. Mara doesn’t know this.  Unique Magic: The Fates Design She can set the goal and things will fall into place, if its further into the future or a very hard to accomplish goal it will take a lot of magic, and even saps magic from her a bit for each day as fate gets rolling into place like she wanted. so shes not seen doing a lot of magic, especially if she has plans going on behind the scenes. Most don’t know her unique magic. 

A teachers assistant that typically while helping grade and work on other things is stationed in Oznitus. Kind of like a baby sitter but not that Crowley would say that. She’s actually earned the nickname ‘mama’ from some more ornery students. As her first year being a teachers assistant she kind of wants to put the best example forward and typically will just say white lies.

“Oh no, Trien sir, i just passed those students in the library. Are you sure that it was them you saw? Come, let’s talk this out, i’d love to help you solve this mystery” taking his arm and leading him off meanwhile the students in question hiding under her desk or throughout the room just out of sight.  Actually has grown close friends with the main Oznitus trio, especially Mika who she talks a lot more casually with and interacting more with him like a best friend especially when off the clock so to say. Gets along well with Evett and Theo too.  Mika started a joke of telling the first years to call Mara and Evett ‘Mama’ and ‘Pops’ because they can be quite the more paternal of them trying to keep everyone in line and orderly 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Viridian Hunter Species: Human Inspired by: The gate keeper Height: 5′1″ Favorite Food: Filet Mignon Hated Food: Chocolate covered Cherries Year: 2nd Age: 18 Class: 2-D  Best Subject: Summoning Club: Light Music - he feels remiss they don’t actually practice their instruments much and a lot of it is just ‘socializing’  Fun Fact: Thinks women are amazing, it’s a common thought from the Emerald plains that the women are the more highly regarded ones. Typically better at magic than the others Though has that actually been put to the test? Where are those stats? How did they test the magic? Seems a bit of just another one of Viridian’s biases  Unique Magic: Lock and Key  He can make anything un-openable but also he can just as easily open anything he wishes with a magic formed skeleton key. He usually can’t open things enchanted though. he’s trying to see if he can though, he wants to see if he can eventually get to that level. 

Met Tsavorite while very young and actually was an orphan the family took in and while they technically adopted him it was very clear he was more of a live in friend because Tsavorite wanted him around. Playing a lot of dress up, playing fun games, telling Viridian to break some rules that were in place that usually would get Viridian so worried and wound up but bending to Tsavorites will to do as she asked and if he got caught Tsavorite would just coolly say “ I told him to.” and that was the end of the conversation. She has surprised him by saying this when he was caught once actually trying to sneak seconds in the middle of the night because he didn’t eat much that day from playing all day with Tsavorite. They sat there in the kitchen with Tsavorite eating with him after the staff made something fresh. It’s one of his most appreciated memories. 

He admires Tsavorite greatly and does anything she asks of him. To him Tsavorite can’t do wrong, he knows rules, he knows morallly that some of the things she does do....isn’t the best. But rules don’t apply to Tsavorite. He learned that one early on. 

He is more akin to a butler and handmaiden for Tsavorite, picking out outfits, getting them clean, making appointments, doing Tsavorites hair, he even bathes her as if she was a genuine princess that gets pampered. Though Berenice was the one to point out that was a bit ‘odd’ before Tsavorite hushed her and told her she could do it if she found it so ‘odd’ which had Berenice not saying another word on the matter. 

Viridian is slightly jealous of the fact Berenice seems to be the favorite, though he does sometimes wonder if it’s actual favoritism considering Berenice does get called ‘Little Kitten’ and petted often as if she was an actual pet and more closely scrutinized by Tsavorite if shes not groomed to the usual expectation and wearing what she told her to. Though he often shrugs this thought off to the back of his mind. After all he was Tsavorites doll first before Berenice came into the picture. Tsavorite cares about those close to her, even if she shows it in...odd ways. He’s sure of it. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tsavorite Diona Proserpine Species: Human ( ? ) has some fae blood in her Inspired by: The Emerald City Height: 6′ 6″ Favorite Food: Green Apple slices with Caramel  Hated Food: Tapioca Pudding Year: 2nd Age: 19 Class: 2-E Best Subject: Magic Practice Club: Gargoyle research facility  Fun Fact: Doesn’t yet know how to genuinely interact with people on a personable level, even those closest to her don’t get the full her and her emotions she keeps locked tight. Kind of considers those closest to her more like pets or toys with appreciation but it feels there’s not actual thought of them as their own free willed people. She needs to work on this.  Unique Magic: Emerald Spires Creating dazzling green stone columns and working more and more each day to forming them into other shapes and see how far she can stretch them. She has successfully been able to make walls which, if you think about it, is just a horizontal column...kind of. 

Tsavorite Proserpine. A name that strikes fear into those of the Emerald Plains. Those who are smart enough to know who really runs the capital. Coming from a long family who’s said to even started the capital base of the Emerald Plains. Born with a Silver spoon in her mouth and treated more like royalty than just simply someone rich due to the power of both financials and magic prowess her and her family possesses. What Tsavorite wants, Tsavorite gets. 

She knows money and power get you everything and connections are how you strengthen keeping your station. She very much lives by the ‘Keep your enemies close’ rule but it should be no shock that Berenice and Viridian are the closest to her. While it may seem that she treats them as lackeys, those who actually have seen Tsavorite interacting with general working class staff and those who she’s not close to that Viridian and Berenice are obviously more favored by her with more ‘niceties’ given to them. 

Viridian is the one trusted fully to handle her appointments, her outfits, keeping everything organized and in place. He’s trusted enough that she knows he could never do anything of his free volition that would come at her. If something caused him to turn on her, she would no doubt know it was a fake or a spell that caused something like that to change 

Berenice she finds simply adorable, such a predator, such a beauty, Berenice has a lot of physical power but she’s just such a lap cat, its where she should be is what Tsavorite thinks of her. A powerful girl by her side, dressed looking cute how she likes. She thinks the meekness she can have is cute but finds her unique magic the most interesting aspect of her. Such contradictions in Berenice. It’s fun. She doesn’t fully trust Berenice though. Not yet. Not on Viridians level.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Berenice Kelly Lemongrass Species: Lion beast folk Inspired by: The cowardly lion Height: 5′10″ Favorite Food: Seared Ahi Tuna Hated Food: granola bars Year: 2nd Age: 19 Class: 2-B  Best Subject: Flying skills Club: Basketball Fun Fact: doesn’t originally hail from The Emerald Plains, her family moved there when she was 12  Unique Magic: Trapped Her magic inflicts psychological damage trapping people in their minds for a short period of time with fears and horrible memories coming back to eat at them. Rarely used longer than a few minutes, if used longer the victim will pass out, if used too long...they might not be the same person they were at the start. But she hasn’t used it that long and doesn’t know what might happen. 

The supposed Bodyguard of Lady Tsavorite and while she is strong she’s just...not cut out for being that intimidating or strong willed. Often more easily curling in on herself and doing whats told of her. Lady Tsavorite personally decided she’d be her ‘bodyguard’ even if her magic is more impressive than Berenice’s and can go on much longer using it than Berenice as well. Berenice does have genuine power and strength and does her best to keep it up. 

Lady Tsavorite typically calls Berenice pet names, but immediately shuts down others who try saying any pet name to Berenice. Her favorite to use is usually “Little Kitten”. It was Lady Tsavorite who chose how she gets her hair down and expressed to her to wear those cute bows and make up as well and what Lady Tsavorite says, goes. 

Berenice thinks Viridian is the favorite, Lady Tsavorite doesn’t snap at him for his outfits or make up but then again...he’s never out of proper attire or looking ‘sloppy’ or ‘messy’ but also she wonders just how close two people can be. She’d consider them the closest people two can be platonically really that it’s almost admirable but she can’t feel at ease with Lady Tsavorites behaviors sometimes. While its nice having her head pat and ears scratched always needing to be dressed to her standards is kind of tiresome and does get her worried to being a rough around the edges as she can be sometimes as she likes to run and honestly she has a little bit of dramatic flair and has tried out for theatre. She’s quite good at getting into dramatic proses. 

[natusvincere]

Nightmare Square || Marley and Vic

Who: @detectivedreameater and @natusvincere Where: The Bend When: A few weeks ago What: Marley and Vic find out what dreams are made of... literally. Warnings: Allusions to child abuse, Head Injury Mention

Reports of strange activity down in the Bend had been pouring in, and Marley could no longer stand by and let it be written off. Well, sit by, as it were, as she scratched away at files from her desk. Soon, she had to remind herself, she was going to get back into the field soon. She just needed a bit more time to heal, to get better, to control herself. But soon. Still, soon didn’t ever feel like soon enough when she felt like the only cop in the precinct who understood the supernatural nature of the town. Ally was...getting there, but she had almost drawn a gun on Marley at just the mention of the supernatural, so there was still a way to go in regards to that. The only other officer she knew of who knew was Langley, and there was no way in hell she was ever asking him for help, after what had happened at the escape room. 

And so, she’d gone it alone. Probably not the best idea-- definitely not the best idea-- and Anita and Erin would probably kick her ass if they ever found out, but the solution to that was easy: make sure they never found out. She grabbed the pistol from her car and headed out, following the path that had been laid out by the many reports of suspicious activity. It led her behind a building and towards some of the abandoned buildings in the Bend, but so far, she hadn’t spotted anything. Even with her perfect vision, everything seemed pretty normal. She was about ready to give up when she heard a noise and saw a shadow. Marley stiffened and stood stock still for a moment, before allowing her body to turn invisible, creeping along towards the shadow. Turned the corner and-- “Vic?” Marley groaned, rolling her eyes as she became visible again. “What’re you doing out here?”

 Tips these days were far and few between.  There were phases of time when Vic would be gushing with information on vampire clans, pouring them out to hunters just as quick as she’d pour them a drink.  But lately was not one of those times.  Instead, there was a lull, making her desperate to scope out any lead she even had an inkling about, just to get some action in her life.  Things had been so mundane lately that she was actually considering attempting one of those video games she had been arguing with the internet about.  No, she couldn’t have that. 

The bend was a common location for these types of tips, and it was an area of town she was quite familiar with after doing this sort of work for so long.

She had been wandering around a few alleyways, traipsing in and out to find any sense of the vampires she’d heard the miniscule lead about.  She jumped, just slightly, when she heard her name, whipping around to face the culprit and ready to strike, if necessary.  Instead, she was met with a familiar face, and she let her guard down.  “Marley”, she said, leaning on her hip and pursing her lips.  “I could ask you the same thing.” It was a ridiculous thing to say, of course- it was Marley’s job to be in a place like this- to investigate the very filth that Vic wished to eradicate.  She suddenly realized she could hear music in the background- harp, that sounded strikingly similar to what Lyra used to play her.  It made her stomach turn.  “Since when are they piping music into the bend?”, she wondered, swallowing.

 “I’m a cop, Vic,” Marley answered sarcastically, “thought you knew that already?” She’d known Vic for a while now-- both as an acquaintance and, well, in other more intimate ways-- but she hadn’t seen her recently. It was strange running into her here and now, but this town had thrown stranger things at her. She paused when Vic said she heard music and tried to listen, but all she could hear was the ringing in her ears. She scrunched her nose. “I don’t think the bend has that budget quite yet.” An idea struck her, and her face lit up. “What do you say we go check it out together? Whatever’s there, I’m betting it’ll be a fun time for both of us.” A grin. “Like old times! Not that we ever did anything like this before, but it’s been a minute since I’ve seen you, and we both like dishing out what people have coming to them, right?”

 Vic rolled her eyes at Marley, though the suppression of a smile was harder in the company of someone she was comfortable with than she would like to admit.  She leaned back against the brick wall in an effort to stave off the feeling, crossing her arms in front of her.  Marley clearly  needed to get her hearing checked, and Vic furrowed her eyebrows at her.  “Your ears are failing in your old age”, she accused, leaning her neck around to locate the hidden speaker.  The music was haunting her, distracting and ever present.  Marley’s idea, and excitement, by extension, as amusing as it was surprising, and it was a welcome distraction. Vic stood up straighter at the prospect of someone to scope out the area with. It might be fun to catch up, and scoping out the area  with someone as skilled and experienced as Marley would be a piece of cake.  “Fine”, she said, pushing off the wall at the same time as she pushed another smile away.  “So, where to first, cop?” she asked, emphasizing the last word playfully.

 “Whatever, grandma,” Marley said, though she was aware that Vic had never actually told her her real age. “My ears are fine.” Even though they were ringing right now, she wasn’t about to admit that outloud. Her face lit up, though, when Vic agreed to her terms, and she practically bounced on her toes in excitement. It’d been so long since she’d investigated something with someone, considering she was benched at work. “I knew you’d agree!” she grinned, pulling out her glock and giving a sweeping ‘follow me’ gesture. “Show me where this sound you’re hearing is coming from, miss super hearing, and we’ll go from there, yeah?” She waved her gun slightly, letting her know that she was prepared for whatever was coming. “I came here for an investigation into strange activity, so, you know--” she nodded, “--just in case.”

 Pushing her hands into her back pockets, Vic let out a scoff, but followed along with Marley all the same. “What strange activity?”, she wondered, her eyes trained on the ground in front of them as they walked.  She shook her head, trying to concentrate on the sound to better locate where it was coming from, and grabbed Marley’s wrist to lead her to where she was sure it was coming from.  It didn’t seem to be getting any louder though, so she let out another frustrated scoff and pulled her in another direction, only to find the same problem. “I… I can’t figure this shit out”, she said, the distant harp sounding more hauntingly familiar with each passing moment.  “It’s like… it feels like it’s everywhere, ...I can’t locate a source”.  Behind Marley, a man slowly walking by caught her attention, and the sight of him shocked her.  If she didn’t know any better, she’d be sure it was her father. She looked at Marley, and then back at the man, but he was gone, replaced instead by a simple housecat. “There’s something fucked up going on”, she said, locking eyes with Marley again.  “I think I’m going batshit”.

 Marley let Vic drag her around, searching for her mysterious noise. She watched her closely as they headed around corners and through the back alleys. “Reports of people seeing things, stranger than usual things. Things that shouldn’t be possible, according to laws of physics,” she explained, “hey, you okay?” But before she could get the full sentence out Vic was turning and locking eyes with her-- something Marley hated when it wasn’t on her terms, her eyes were dangerous, even to a vampire-- and cursing about going crazy. “Hey, woah, slow down, what‘re you talking about? No source? It’s gotta have a source, Vic, that’s how sound works. Are you sure your super special vamp hearing isn’t going bad or something?” She watched Vic glance behind her and turned her head to see what she’d been looking at, but only found a cat. However, when she turned back around to face Vic, a familiar, bloody face greeted her and Marley jumped. “I think I’m going batshit,” Roland said and Marley scrambled away, shaking her head and-- it was just Vic again. “What the--” Was she seeing things? No, that wasn’t possible. She was the mara, she was immune to magically induced hallucinations. “Okay, something really weird is going on here and I’m not happy about it.”

 “Sounds like a regular day in the bend to me”, Vic breathed out, now on alert and worried her father might pop up out of the shadows again.  “Don’t people come here looking for trouble?” She shook her head at Marley, annoyed.  She wasn’t listening.  “No!  My fucking cursed hearing isn’t going bad.  It doesn’t work like that. It’s everywhere, Marley.  It’s not getting any louder or quieter, it just is”.  She stared at Marley, tilting her head in confusion at her reaction.  Was she seeing things too, then?  Her eyes glanced up toward the sky above them, and she could hear a faint, familiar giggle on top of the harp.  “This is freaking me out.  I’m getting out of here.  Are you coming, or are you stupid?”  Without waiting for an answer, Vic grabbed Marley by the wrist again pulling her down the alley they were standing in. The alley, which was before no longer than about 10 feet, now seemed to stretch out forever, and no matter how much they walked, it never seemed to end.  She stopped, turning around, only to see the alley endless stretching the other way too.  Dropping Marley’s wrist, she ran toward the end of the alley, pumping her legs with as much force as she could, but to no avail.  “What the fuck”, she said, turning around to Marley with wide eyes.  Somehow, they were still right next to one another.

 Too much was happening again and Marley was having a hard time following Vic’s train of thought. Her head was spinning, as Vic grabbed her wrist and started yanking her down the alley. But it stretched out, forever and ever and Marley felt panic swell inside her chest, her heart plummeting into the pit of her stomach. For a moment, the alley looked like that house. Peeling paint, sludge on the ground, claw marks dragged across the walls. Vic was running, and she’d left Marley alone. “Wait!” she shouted, reaching out for her, but then Vic was gone, and Marley was alone. Shadows danced in and out of her vision and she backed away, holding her gun up. “Show yourself!” she shouted, twisting in circles. “I know what you are! I-I’m not afraid of you anymore!” A noise to her left. Marley twisted, ready to pull the trigger, barrel pointed directly at her assailants face, but-- it was Vic again. Marley jumped. “You left!” she snapped, “you just-- where did you come from? What’s going on?” It was like a bad nightmare, but the only nightmare here was supposed to be Marley. “We need to get out of here. Now.”

 As soon as they appeared next to each other again, Marley was holding a gun out to Vic’s face.  On instinct she flinched back, but just barely.  Her eyes met the barrel of the gun, and starred it down, daring it to go off.  “You’re tweaking out on me, Stryder.”  She took her hand and rested it atop the gun, lowering it down so it was no longer settled between them.  “No shit.  But doing that the conventional way doesn’t seem very likely right now”, she said, indicting to either side of the alley.  The harp music began to ring louder and louder in her ears, as did the taunting giggles. She didn’t want to think about this, about her, about any of that nonsense.  “Jösses, shut up!”,  she screamed at the sky, covering her ears.  The sound from her shout, strangely, took on a visual form, and it shot up toward the sky above them.  Suddenly, and without warning, clouds from up above came toppling down toward them, and something in Vic’s gut just knew they weren’t soft and fluffy.  “Run!” she said, not bothering to look behind her and see if Marley was following.  “What the fuck is going on, Marley?  What kind of backwards ass shit were you investigating out here?”

 Marley didn’t resist as Vic lifted a hand and pushed the gun from her face, but she did keep a firm grip on her firearm. Something was happening here and she wasn’t taking any chances. “I’m not tweaking,” she snapped, but something in the back of her mind made her wonder if maybe she was, maybe it was her mind finally breaking. But that wasn’t possible, because Vic was experiencing it, too, and Marley knew it wasn’t her doing it. For once. “Hey, calm down. Vic--” Marley started, but then Vic was shouting at her to run and taking off. Her shout was tangible and Marley looked, just barely managing to leap out of the way when a chunk of something fell right where they’d been standing. “Vic!” Marley called again, scrambling to stand up. “Wait!” If they just ran wildly, they were going to get lost. Whatever was happening, it was creating a maze for them. She could feel it, as the alleyway turned into the hallway she’d nearly forgotten about. She’d thought she was over that. She wanted to be over that. Her hands shook and she began to sweat. “Vic?” she called out, as darkness enveloped the alleyway, pulling her away from the solace of her companion. She was alone in that house again and the skittering sound that had haunted her for months after echoed around her. “No,” she grunted. “No! I’m not afraid of you anymore!” And without thinking, she lifted her gun and fired.

 It took her longer than Vic would have liked to realize, but Marley was apparently not down with the idea of running away from their problems.  She stopped suddenly and whipped around, ready to scold her for not listening, but she was met with a wall that she was sure hadn’t been there before.  She whipped around again, facing where she had just come from, only to be met with another suddenly appearing wall.  “Fuck!”, she yelled, kicking one of the walls that now surrounded her. Suddenly, the harp like music that she’d been hearing sounded louder than ever, and when she turned around again, she was met with a sight that made her heart rise to her throat.  It was Lyra, sitting there and playing the nyckleharpa, as if it were 1570s Sweden and not present day White Crest.  Tears rose to her eyes, but she suddenly felt like she couldn’t breath, like the 4 walls around them were closing in and there was no way out.  The more Vic looked at Lyra’s face, the less she looked like her- her face morphed from a calm, gentle smile to a sickeningly sinister one, one that threatened to overtake her whole face if it grew any wider.  “This isn’t real. This isn’t real. This isn’t real”, she repeated, turning away from fake Lyra and covering her ears, desperate not to hear anymore.  A loud crash shook her out of her thoughts and she looked behind her, only to find one of the four walls shattering in front of her, Marley’s bullet whipping by her face mere seconds later.  She took a moment to catch her breath, but quickly ran close to Marley again, happy to be rid of dream Lyra. “We need to stick together”, she said, the only hint of an apology that would be leaving her lips.  “To...to find a way out of whatever this is”.

 The sound of glass shattering signaled that Marley had hit something, but it certainly wasn’t a something that she’d expected or been aiming at. Vic was running back towards her, and the fear on her own face made Marley realize that what they were seeing were two different things. Which meant-- “Magic,” she exhaled. “Whatever’s doing this is magic. And, well, by the looks of it, fucking powerful.” She blinked, trying to reset herself. She scrubbed her hand across her eyes, removing her sunglasses all together. If they were going to get through this, then they needed all their concentration. She even holstered her gun, because what good was a gun against magic? “What did it show you?” she asked, then, looking Vic square in the eyes. It might’ve been nighttime, the element both of them thrived in-- but they were left vulnerable here. Even Marley was sure magic could do her in at night. She’d always been warned against magic, especially those powerful enough to manipulate the mind.

 “Fucking bullshit town”, Vic muttered under her breath, disgusted that Marley’s explanation of what was going on seemed just about as viable as any, at this point.  She shook her head at Marley’s question, not willing to divulge what she saw to anyone, ever.  Marley knew she didn’t do feelings, she would do well now to know not to press.  “Something from my past”, was all she offered, shuttering as the image of Lyra with that sickening, wide grin flashed into her mind again.  “What about you?”, she asked.  She looked around them, their surroundings still morphing and warping as time passed, though they seemed to be more obvious about it now that they were aware that something was up.  “None of this makes sense, it’s all so...random and irrational.   Are we at the hands of some fucked up, magic child?”

 Vic was about as forthcoming as Marley assumed she would be. Sighing, she rubbed a hand across her face. “A nightmare,” she mumbled, “and also a...recent thing that happened.” Some people would describe it as a “traumatic experience” but Marley certainly wasn’t going to use those words. At least not with Vic. She gave a hollow chuckle. “Funny,” she said, eyeing their surroundings. “But no. I think it’s...drawing its inspiration from us. Whatever it is. I don’t think it’s a person, though. Probably some sort of...magic pocket or something. They occur around the town quite a bit, but never this, well-- big. Or often.” Or powerful. This pocket felt as if it might swallow Marley whole. She tried to steady her breath. “I think we need to...stop feeding it. If it has nothing to draw from, the illusions might just, go away. Only problem is, I’m not sure how to cease brain function. At least, you know,” she gave a snigger, “for myself.” 

 Vic eyed Marley suspiciously, though she couldn’t expect her to elaborate, not when Vic was so anti-sharing during their time together.  It was frustrating that she had a sense of concern about whatever might be going on with Marley, and she buried it, for the sake of solving their current problem.  She rolled her eyes at the ridiculousness of it all, even though she knew Marley was probably right.  “Are these magic pockets sentient?  Because it seems to know what the fuck it’s doing, and it’s got a sick sense of humor.”  As if on cue, flower petals began to flutter around both of them, dancing in rhythm with each other as they fell from the sky.  She let out a frustrated breath as one landed on the bridge of her nose, and she flicked it away with specific determination and annoyance.  “But if you stir up nightmares, wouldn’t logic say that you can defeat them as well?”, she wondered aloud, doing a bad job at hiding her approving smirk at Marley’s bad joke.  “Okay, so like… a trance?”  That, she could do.  She had an easy enough time clearing her mind when she went into trances during the day, but would Marley be able to do the same?  “I can clear my mind in a fucking snap, but what are we gonna do about you?”

 “I don’t think sentient is the right word, but--” Marley ground her teeth, shrugged, “something like that. It’s at least intelligent or, maybe just playing off our minds. Mental magic is a thing, I’m pretty sure.” She really needed to learn more about magic, didn’t she? The thought dissipated quickly, because they had more important things to focus on. Like getting out of this nightmare. It felt a little like cosmic karma when she thought of it like that. She looked up as the petals began to rain down, catching one in her palm. It felt so real. That was the problem, wasn’t it? This shit was real. It wasn’t just their imagination. It was like the pizza downtown, or the fish raining down. The sticky road in the Bend. Marley crushed the petal in her palm. A smirk grew on her face, wide and joyful. “Scratch that,” she said, turning to look at Vic. She pulled her gun back out and loaded it, then held it out to Vic as she pulled another from her boot. “Think as hard as you can about one thing. I don’t just stir up nightmares, Vic, I manifest them. I make them real because I draw from someone’s memory for them. That’s what this place is doing.” She opened her palm to show her the crushed petal. “It’s making them real, the more we think about them. And if something’s real, well,” she gestured to their weapons, “something can be destroyed.”

 Vic studied Marley’s face, watching a myriad of emotions pass through, each stronger than the last.  Whatever she was thinking about, it seemed to be working out a way to get them out of this mess, and she found herself taking solace in the triumphant smirk presented to her.  But then, there was the gun, which might as well have been shoved into her hands.  She held it like it was some sort of germ, one that she wished to be rid of.  Of course she knew how to fire one, thanks to countless self-defense courses she’d put herself through over the years- but for some reason, she could never bring herself to buy one of her own.  There was something that felt wrong about holding it- it felt too real.  She didn’t do horrible things, she just set it up so that other people could. Deep in her mind, where memories of her past mixed and swelled and begged to come pouring out, she worried that if she allowed herself to own one, maybe she’d be the one doing the horrible things after all.  

She shook her head.  It was a waste of time to dwell on maybes and worries and what-ifs.  Especially now and here.   She licked her lips as she listened to Marley’s advice, and closed her eyes. Think, think think.  Her fiance, Lyra, a tutor, a flash of her mother’s face, Winnie, Morgan, angry with her after they tried to garden, her tiny, paint stained fingers, blurred away by tears as a booming voice bellowed from behind her… nothing was sticking.  Whatever she had to think of, Marley was going to see, and know, and ask bullshit questions about things that didn’t matter anymore.  She shook her head again, lowering her gun and looking at Marley.  “It’ll be enough if you do it, I think.  You destroy your nightmares, and we’ll both be out of here.  I’m not that afraid of anything that it gives me nightmares, so…” Her words were shaky and uneven, and even the dullest stranger could have sensed the insincerity in them.  

 Marley watched Vic’s face closely and understood the feeling she was going through. Debating whether or not to expose the truth about the nightmares that had once plagued her. The truth was that neither of them could dream anymore, let alone have nightmares. But for Vic, that didn’t mean that she didn’t used to have them, however long ago. Marley had experienced nightmares once in her life, she didn’t have much to draw on. Not anymore. She didn’t understand the feelings dreams and nightmares brought with them like other people did. She never could. It was another thing her species had taken from her. How strange, to feed from something you could never truly understand. She furrowed her brow at Vic. “You can’t lie to me,” she said simply, frowning. “Thought you knew that by now.” She looked around them as the world cycled through different iterations of itself. Hallways, closed doors, large rooms. They needed to work fast if they wanted to get out of here. She looked back at Vic with narrower eyes. 

“I’ve never had a nightmare before,” she stated, a simple fact, “whatever this is, is drawing on my subconscious. I can’t control that. But it’s drawing on your nightmares. From when you were human. I know that was like, what, at least a few decades? Maybe a century?” She shifted, facing Vic fully. “But you had them. You can still remember them. So, fucking feed the entity or I’m gonna go invisible and leave you behind.” She couldn’t actually do that, but she figured she got the point across.

 “I’m not ly-”, Vic started, but the look on Marley’s face told her to not even try.  As many times as she had successfully avoided discussing feelings and their past and all that bullshit with Marley, it was becoming abundantly clear that after today, she would no longer be afforded that privacy.  Time to find another fuck buddy.  She let out a low sigh, pressing her lips together and staring Marley down.  This was ridiculous.  She was not about to relive her childhood in front of Marley- not when she had spent years perfecting the art of ignoring them all together.  But then Marley’s threat made her heart skip a bit- there’s no way she could bear being here any longer- especially not alone.  With a frustrated grunt, she closed her eyes, focusing on whatever decided to come up first.

She looked down at her hands, but they weren’t her worn, grown up ones.  No, the ones she saw now were tiny and undamaged...and covered in paint.  So was her pretty dress, but it didn’t look ruined to her.  It stood out, now, bright and blue and splotched all over, in a way that might make people pay attention and tell her how beautiful she looked.  Next to her no longer stood Marley, but her tutor- looking cross and annoyed, like she did most mornings.  But then the door slammed open, causing her to jump back with a start.  And there her father stood- tall and loud and boiling over with disappointment and shame.  Shame that she wasn’t good enough, that she wasn’t a boy, that she was too loud, too messy, too clumsy.  Too Victoria. He bound toward her, his stride and pace matching the monsters she read about in her books late at night.  Though she stared him down, forcing her face to look as dark and angry as his, her breath was quickening and her heart threatened to beat out of her chest.  No, no, no.  This was not real.  He died- a long time ago.  She had watched the service for him from afar- covering her face and ignoring the conflicting feelings that fought each other in her chest.  Looking down at her hand, she noticed it was no longer that of a child, but her normal, adult hand again.  She lifted the gun up, studying it, and after a quick glance at Marley (who was suddenly back where she belonged), she held it toward him.  It was the first time she’d seen him stop in his tracks.  Without dwelling on it any longer, she felt her finger pull the trigger, and the man in front of her disappeared into a simple tuft of smoke, dissolving into the atmosphere as if he was never there to begin with. 

Vic shoved the gun back into Marley’s hands, hoping the other woman wouldn’t notice her sweaty palms, or the way her breathing still hadn’t quite settled down.  “Happy now?” she asked angrily, as if Marley had been the one to put them here in the first place.

 Marley watched with fascination as Vic’s nightmare began to unfold in front of her. It was a spectacle, for sure, to see a vampire’s nightmare. Fear gazing never gave the same satisfaction, but this was-- strangely more fulfilling, despite her not even choosing to feed off the fear. The alleyway melted and gave way to a room, with a desk, and some supplies, a chalkboard. Marley didn’t recognize it at first, but it seemed to be some sort of educational room. There was a woman standing beside Vic, who was staring down at her hands in awe. A tutor? A nanny, perhaps? Some sort of caretaker. Stood nearby, a frown on their face. She was angry at Vic. But not as angry as the man who burst into the room. He seemed to appear out of nowhere and Marley watched him with wide eyes. He was...her father, she supposed. She stepped aside as Vic finally worked up the courage to confront the nightmare. She felt the world changing around them. It was already melting away. The scittering in the back of Marley’s mind was dissipating. She turned her gaze back to VIc.

The gunshot echoed in the empty alleyway.

They were back in the real world, the nightmare they’d been stuck in just a tiny shimmer falling to the ground around them like confetti. She took the gun when it was handed to her, staring at Vic. She didn’t quite comprehend what she’d just witnessed. She’d seen many a nightmare, but Marley fed from adults only. Something like this only lived inside her own memories. She blinked them away and holstered the gun after flipping on the safety. “I don't particularly enjoy watching you suffer, no,” was all she said, before grabbing her arm and walking them out of the alleyway. She wasn’t sure there was much else to say. What she’d seen was a part of Vic she was sure she’d never wanted anyone to know. Did Marley care to ask her about it? A year ago, the answer was no. Maybe even a few months ago. But now? “I’m sorry,” she muttered, not looking at her. “That you suffered like that.”

 The fake world flitted away, but Vic still felt it hard to maintain the rapid breathing that was overtaking her lungs.  None of that had been real- not the fake Lyra, the fake music, or her fake Father.  It was weakness, then, that made the sight of them stir so many emotions.  She let herself be pulled out of the alleyway, still staring at the spot they left as if it would all appear again, as if the nightmare weren’t over.  But the longer they were in the real world again, the more secure she felt in it- the sickening dizzy feeling had disappeared with the nightmares. People walked by them as if they had been there the whole time, and noise could be heard from the shops and bars around them.  It was over with. Still, tears filled her eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment.  And with Marley’s apology, a few did.  She wiped them away harshly with the heel of her palm.  “Stop”, she commanded quietly, shaking her head.  “I don’t want your pity. I don’t want-...”  She ducked her head, letting out a breath, “Everybody suffers.  There’s no use in harping on it”.  She rang her fingers together, picking and pulling at them as she looked back to Marley.  Marley, who didn’t have nightmares herself, but seemed to be faced with anxieties of her own in their shared nightmare land.  “It was clear I wasn’t the only one seeing things back there.”  She shouldn’t care about Marley, but still, her questions blurted out.  “Is something going on with you? Are you going to be okay?”

 “It’s not pity,” Marley muttered back, but she knew why Vic said it that way. Recognized the same defensive mechanisms in her that she built in herself and pretended were normal and natural. She hadn’t suffered the way Vic had. The way so many others did. Her suffering was because she’d been born a monster-- Vic had been made one. At least they could relate there. She sighed, furrowing her brow. “Suffering is universal,” Marley recited, as if from a textbook, “our experience of it is not.” She let go of Vic’s arm and shoved her hands in her pockets. “With me? No. That was just--” she gave a half shrug, “some old shit.” And it was, wasn’t it? It had to be. She removed her sunglasses from her pocket and put them back on. There were other people around now. “I’m always fine, anyway.” 

 Vic blinked away the last of the tears and looked away, crossing her arms over her chest.  Marley didn’t want to talk about whatever she had experienced, and she wouldn’t push her on it, despite the dull ache to wonder aloud and learn more about what had scared the unscareable. There was a long moment where neither of them said anything, but then Vic let herself turn back to Marley, her face much harsher than when they first met up.  “Do you want to get out of here?  Go back to my place and… forget, about whatever that was.”  She blinked, always hyper aware of the likelihood of rejection; always determined to stop it before it happened.  “Of course, you could always stay here and play good cop like you do. I’m sure you’re just dying to stop something like that from happening to anyone else”.

Marley couldn’t help but laugh. “If you think I’m the ‘good cop’ in any scenario, then you don’t know me as well as I thought you might.” She holstered her gun and looked around, then let her gaze fall back on Vic. Maybe she should have stayed here, figured out what was going on, but she really didn’t want to. And maybe she should have pressed Vic more about what they’d both just witnessed, but she also didn’t want to do that. No, she wanted to go back to Vic’s place, and get drunk and probably fuck around and hopefully forget about everything that had happened here. Her usual Saturday night. She reached out to brush a bit of dust from Vic’s shoulder, then tapped her chest, leaving her hand there a moment. “Your place it is,” was all she said.

[poorlytunedukulele]

Day 20 - Little Prince

April 16, 2871; Meridian Bay, Mars

Out of all of the Guardians, he just happened to be sharing a bunker with a loud one.

Her thoughts dominated the space.  Her senses screamed out for danger from every direction, from him, even.  Why would he be a threat to her?  He’d saved her life- on impulse, mind you, to pop out from cover, grab her arm, and drag her into the bunker before the Cabal shells made their way from orbit.

Yet still she side-eyed him, mind screaming distrust.  She spoke casually enough.  “You know, I haven’t hung out with many Corsairs, but you don’t strike me the type.”

Death raining down outside and she was making small talk.

“Don’t you know when to be quiet?” Uldren hissed.  The Guardian shot him a confused look, shook her head, and moved to peek out the entrance tunnel.

“There is still an artillery strike happening outside,” Uldren reminded her.  “You will get yourself killed.”

She took the possibility of death with a mental shrug.  “I want to see what’s out there.”

“Why don’t you stick your entire head out of the bunker?  Or better yet, take a jaunt to the observatory?  It’s the third building on the left.”

She actually memorized it.  She nodded to herself, muttered “Observatory, okay,” under her breath, and considered the path to the structure.  “Dying is usually unpleasant, you know,” she said out loud.

Unpleasant.  Like a bad smell or a slightly off piece of bread.

“Remind me to not bother saving your life next time,” Uldren muttered.

“Didn’t I say thank you?” the Guardian replied.  She paused for a second.  “Did I say thank you?”  She hadn’t.  “Damn.  Thank you.  Had no idea the Cabal would call down a strike on their own base.”

“You aren’t scanning their radio feeds?”

She looked back at him, interest as sharp as knives.  “You are?”

Uldren shrugged, effecting easy confidence.  “Their encryption protocols are incredibly basic.”

The Guardian shook her head and returned to her survey of the still-being-bombed Cabal encampment.  “More used to Fallen systems,” she admitted.

Uldren didn’t bother replying.

A salvo of fire shook dirt from the ceiling.  Uldren kept himself very firmly in the corner, under the support beams. His radio howled with magnetic interference.

Reluctantly, the Guardian made her way back into the bunker proper.  “I don’t think it’ll let up anytime soon.  I’d offer you a transmat out, but those munitions are disrupting signals something fierce.”

Nothing he didn’t know already.  And still she considered him like he might take out his sidearm and shoot her for spite.  (In all honesty, he was considering it.  Her mind screamed out impatience and anxiety in a way that tinged the air with acid.)

“Not a Corsair,” she said (mostly to herself), “Not a civilian.  What are you?  Some sort of Awoken Shadowjack?  Stealth-Corsair?”

He relented, if just to have her shut up.  “I am the Prince of the Awoken, Uldren Sov, brother to queen Mara Sov,” Uldren spat.

She considered him with a raised eyebrow and not an ounce of reverence.  “I’m Azra Jax.  And you're too short to be Prince Uldren.“

He was shocked.  "Am I," he growled.

"You're supposed to be-" she began.  Then she stopped.  Exasperation hit her like a Pike.  She pinched the bridge of her nose.  “I’m sorry.  Cayde told me you were like six-foot-four," she said.  The exasperation was turning quickly to mortification.  "He’s going to die in a fit of laughter when I get back.  Given I don't stab him first.”

When she gets back.  Not an if.  Maybe that’s what annoyed Uldren the most: not the bumbling, indelicate thoughts, not the casual disregard for the way things were supposed to work, but that assurance.  She was trapped in a bunker while Cabal artillery thundered outside, on the front lines of their war with the Vex, where death waited at every corner, and she did not have to consider the fact that she might not make it home.  It was a guaranteed thing.  Death was but an unpleasantry, the destruction outside but an inconvenience.

“Yeah, you’re upset,” the Guardian muttered to herself.  “I’m… going to go shut up and sit in that corner now.”

“Please,” Uldren said.

There was a solid five minutes of blessed quiet.

Then, the Guardian’s curiosity got the better of her.  “Do all Awoken Princes go scouting around warzones or is it just a you thing?”

AO3 Link

[i-do-trash-fanfictions]

Character Creation: Thera

@pretty-meekish who made all of these wonderful questions!

(I didn’t do all of them btw. And I will do another sometime about Angelica!)

Guardians name: Thera

Age: I’ve never really thought about age. I’d say 21 in years she’s been a Guardian.

Race: Awoken.

Call signs/alias: Young Wolf

Pronouns: She/her (is fine with being referred to with they/them pronouns, just prefers she/her)

Class: Hunter

Preferred subclass(es): Solar or Stasis

Ghost's name: Scout

Their Vanguard: Still doesn’t have one

Fireteam name: Doesn’t really have a name for her fireteam, since she doesn’t really consider it one in the first place ( because it only has one member)

Fireteam teammates: Angelica (or Ann)

Favorite legendary weapon: Drang

Favorite exotic weapon: Riskrunner

Favorite ornament armor set: Luxe 

Do they prefer being close, mid, or long range: Thera’s fine with any of them, though she likes close combat or mid combat the most.

Do they lean more "Element of Surprise" or "Upfront and Aggressive": Upfront and aggressive, definitely. 

Strikes, Gambit, or Crucible: Crucible, though she plays Gambit just as much as she plays the Crucible.

Who was their mentor(if they had one. If it is a character you created, tell us about them!): Both Zane-2 and Sora (both characters I created) were like her mentors. Sora was an awoken warlock, who was the oldest of the three, and like a mother figure to Thera. Zane was an exo hunter, and was more like an older brother. Unfortunately, both died fifteen years ago.

Who are they mentoring(if they are. If it is a character you created, tell us about them!): Thera is like a mentor to Angelica, or Ann, a young hunter who arrived at the Tower months ago. 

What ship do they have: After Cayde’s death, Thera got the Queen of Hearts.

What is their Sparrow:

Favorite Ghost shell: She really likes the Tangled Lights shell.

Favorite shader: Dust mine was the one she used the most when she was still young, but now she switches between a bunch of them, as long as it has purples or blues.

Favorite color: Purple

Favorite food: Thera secretly likes anything with cheese.

Favorite piece of Pre-Collapse tech(if they've seen any): Zane-2 had a vinyl player that she now owns.

Favorite Pre-Collapse music(if they've heard any): Classic rock.

Favorite place in The Last City(if it's a place you created, give a little description!): Thera doesn’t go to down to the City often. Mostly she chooses to go adventuring instead. But when she does, she goes down to where the children play, usually with Ann and/or Shaxx. They like to play games with her, or hear some of her stories.

Favorite NPC(s): Ikora Rey, Amanda, Crow

Favorite patrol location: Anywhere in the EDZ

5 things your Guardian likes(can be anything): Pizza, MARVEL movies, any kind of oldies music, fiction books (usually fantasy), and pretty earrings (dangle ones, though she doesn’t get the chance to wear them all the time).

Least favorite food: Spinach, or like, most vegetables

Least favorite patrol location: Anywhere on the Moon

Least favorite NPC(s): Spider

5 things your Guardian dislikes(this can be anything): Our modern day pop music (or at least, she thinks she hates all of it), the Hive (especially ogres), romance movies, romance books, and getting her picture taken.

Your Guardian has to rest. What is their living space like: Because she’s the hero of the Red War, once they got the City back, she got a bigger room in the Tower. It’s a single large room with a decent sized bed (not really a queen, but not really a twin either). There’s two desks (one in the front of the room, and one in the back), a big bookshelf, and a kitchette on the West wall with a small round table that can fit two people. She also has a comfy sitting chair that sits by the bookshelf for reading and writing. There’s also a bathroom with a bath/shower, unlike other bathrooms which only have a small bathroom with only a shower. And there is a closet.

Does your Guardian have any casual wear?(Y'all remember Polyvore? The website URSTYLE works very similar if that helps!): Thera has a bunch of casual clothes that she has tucked away into her small closet. A few formal wear, which are dresses (usually purple or black), casual wear which consists of dark pants and either a t-shirt or blouse (which is usually worn with a leather jacket of some kind), and lots of boots. And some clothes for when she’s going to be doing a lot of fitness based things, which are shorts and a tanktop with tennis shoes.

What hobbies and/or skills does you Guardian have: Thera likes to cook and bake in her free time.

What would your Guardian's lore book be called: Secrets of the Wolf

Where was your Guardian reborn?(If you created the location, give us a little description!): She was reborn in the Cosmodrome where the game starts off.

What were they wearing when they were reborn: An old t-shirt which had a design on it but it was severely faded, black jeans, and tennis shoes that were very dirty.

What was their reaction to being reborn: Basically something like, “I haven’t a clue what’s going on here-”

What was their reaction to their first rez: “Is the tiny headache normal? And the queasiness? Do you ever get used to that?

After being reborn, did they meet friendlies first or hostiles: Hostiles. Lots of Fallen.

Who was the first other Guardian they met?(Same thing! If you made them, give a little description!): She met Cayde first of course, along with the other Vanguard, but besides them, she met Zane-2 first.

Did your Guardian get reborn with, or find, any indication of their past life? If so what do they have/found: All Thera remembers is her name.

Going back to your Guardian's lore book, what would be some some quotes or passages from their book: Probably a passage talking about her past before she became known as a hero, back when Sora and Zane were both alive. Her thoughts on certain rules the Vanguard have made about diving into their pasts, and things like that. Another passage talking about her depression and trauma that she went through.

Does your Guardian have a significant other: Crow, though it is to remain a secret as of now. Only Ann and Osiris know about it.

Did your Guardian go explore first before going to The Last City? If so, where to: No, she headed straight to the City.

What was their reaction to first seeing The Last City: She was amazed. Amazed at all the Guardians, and at the Traveler, and the city itself, and more.

Is your Guardian a part of a clan: Nope.

If your Guardian would have a quote as a flavor text for a weapon and/or piece of armor, what would they be: “Shoot aliens, and look good doing it!” Probably on a fancy looking gun.

If your Guardian has had any interactions with any civilians (The Last City/The Farm), Eliksni, Cabal, Vex, Hive, Taken, Scorn, Rouge Lightbearers, or Iron Lords/War Lords(if your Guardian is an Old Light) tell us about it!: Thera has a few friends down in the City. Not exactly friends, since they don’t really hang out, but people she goes to when she needs help and they know they can go to her. For example, she has one friend who owns a restaurant in the City, and at Dawning time, she uses the kitchen there to make snacks for everyone that’s important in her life. There’s also a woman who owns a sort of thrift store and Thera goes to shop there all the time, so they both know each other and will talk from time to time.

How does your Guardian feel about themselves or others using Stasis: She believes it won’t hurt anyone if they use it every now and then, but that Guardians shouldn’t use it all the time. Switch back to the Light a majority of the time.

Where did they go and what did they do during The Red War: Thera was the Hero of the Red War. The one to get the light back and fight against Ghaul.

Here are some characters that are either polarizing or have created a strong enough mass emotion within the community. What opinion does your Guardian hold on each of them(These are only a handful of characters!)>>>

Osiris, First Warlock Vanguard, originally exiled: She thinks of him very wise and listens to every word he says. She knows that she can talk to him.

Eris Morn, Bane of the Swarm: Thera and her both relate to each other because of the trauma they’ve been through, so they both know that if they want, they can open up to each other and the other will understand.

Cayde-6, Sixth Hunter Vanguard: After the death of Sora and Zane-2, Cayde was like the only really close friend she had left. Cayde would always make sure she was alright. If she got enough sleep, if she ate that day, ect.

Ikora Rey, Second Warlock Vanguard: Ikora is another older sister figure. She usually confides to Ikora here and there about her ideas on events.

Commander Zavala, Second Titan Vanguard: Though the two don’t always see eye-to-eye, Thera respects him, and understands that he has a lot of worries on his shoulders, especially right now.

Saint-14, legendary Titan, First Titan Vanguard: Thera finds him a good person to hang out with. She’s fed the pigeons with him once or twice to relax.

Lord Saladin, Iron Banner handler, One of the last remaining Iron Lords: Thera trusts him, but doesn’t always agree with what he believes. 

Lord Shaxx, Crucible handler, Hero of Twilight Gap, living megaphone: She likes hanging out with him. He always knows how to get her into a good mood if he knows she’s upset or angry.

The Crow, New Light, Ex-Enforcer to The Spider: She feels sorry about the things he’s gone through when working for Spider. Now, he is secretly her boyfriend, though only few know it. Thera enjoys every second she gets to spend with him.

The Spider, The Shore's Only Law, founder of "House" Spider: Son of a-

Uldren Sov, Prince of the Reef, Master of Crows: She is a firm believer that Guardians are far different than who they were before, so she doesn’t think of Crow as Uldren. She didn’t like Uldren much at all.

Mara Sov, Queen of the Reef, Queen of the Awoken, Ex-Kell of Wolves: She was a bit of a b***h, in Thera’s opinion. 

Variks, the Loyal, founder of House Judgement: She understands that he did not mean for Cayde to die, and has forgiven him. 

And finally, does your Guardian have any advice for any New Lights: “Listen, for you hunters, fight well, and look good doing it. Warlocks, get ahold of any book you can get ahold of. I had a friend who believed that with enough studying, you may come across something that could help the Last City greatly. And for the Titans, stay strong and listen to the Warlocks. They know what they’re doing, but almost never listen to hunters. We’ll usually lead you into trouble.”

[afewmarvelousthoughts]

The Devil’s Daughter Ch. 2

Master List: @afewmarvelousthoughtsadmin

Pairing: The Winter Soldier X Reader (Bucky X Reader)

Summary: Born and bred to be a monster worthy to lead Hydra into a new age you must decide if you will become the beast they always intended or perhaps something greater… Someone worthy even, of love.

Warnings: Trauma. This one is lighter but I still advise to tread with caution when it comes to this series. 

A/N: I MISSED ALL OF YOU! I’ve been so wrapped up with work and another project that I haven’t had really any time to breathe. BUT I finally took like a half step back and remembered that fic is actually a form of self care for me. I LOVE writing these stories and needed to make time for this and, of course, to give those of you who are invested something to sink your teeth into. 

This is a shorter chapter but will answer that lingering question from the last chapter and, I hope, make up for the wait just a bit. 

Love you sweet pumpkins! 

TAGS ARE OPEN

If I missed your tag please remind me. 

You hadn’t expected sleep to come easily. It rarely did even before this seemingly endless day, and yet the moment you settled into the plush bed you fell into blissful unconsciousness. 

A few hours before sunrise, your eyes pop open. It certainly wasn’t the longest night’s sleep but you felt more than rested. Another side effect of the serum you suspected, and honestly, not a bad one. 

You had work to do. 

Tentatively you step from your room, both cautious of any potential threats and not wanting to disturb the presumably sleeping Soldier, wherever he may be. Thankfully, you found neither assailant nor your new muscle stalking around the space. 

Given your first goal of the day you were honestly more grateful to not see the Soldier awake than you were to not face an attack.

On the small dining table, the boxes of files on The Soldier sat just where you’d left them the night before. You lay your hand on top of one, almost reverently. 

There was no doubt that what these boxes contained was unpleasant if not horrific. Part of you almost didn’t want to crack into them, not wanting to take this journey now. 

With a deep breath, you shake your head, dismissing your hesitation. You’d made a commitment, albeit only to yourself, that you would give him his name back. And if his freedom could be wrenched from these files… Well, you’d do that too.

By the time the sun finally lit the windows you felt ill. No one could ever accuse you of having a weak constitution when it came to violence but still… some levels of depravity, especially sanctioned depravity, were more than even you could bear. 

The story told of The Soldier unfolded in the files on the floor around you. It was a lesson in just how deep the cruelty of man could go. 

Beyond the more gut-wrenching details, you’d gained a surface understanding of how he ticked. The triggers and tools available to you, none of which you intended to use, as well as his limitations. 

Part of his appeal was that he could be rendered a blank slate, a human weapon at the full control of whoever had a firm enough grasp on his leash. However, wiping him and bringing him fully back to square one had its risks. 

The insidious technique always carried the chance of simply leveling him to a state of drooling uselessness at best and death at worst. Because of this, they only wiped him entirely with the use of the chair when absolutely necessary. In fact, his last full wipe had been almost four years ago—which likely explained his remembering your encounter from several years prior. 

From what you gathered so far, this was one of the longer stints Hydra had gone without either icing or wiping him. The notes indicated that this was a great win. They thought they’d finally broken him. 

A smile filled your face knowing this was far from true. 

“Amusing read?” 

You had been so absorbed in your research that you didn’t hear his approach and embarrassingly jumped at the sound of his voice. 

“The content isn’t amusing. Their misguided ideas though…” 

His brows raise at this, “Ideas about what?” 

“That they have somehow finally broken you.” The moment the words leave your lips you regret them. His expression is unreadable, a combination of horror, disgust, and murderous rage that no language you knew had a word for. 

“Haven’t they.” It wasn’t a question. 

“Your presence here says they haven’t.” As did his attempt on your life last night and the fact that he didn’t kill you when you told him your plan. He doesn’t respond, just shoves his hands in his pockets, fixing his gaze out the window. 

“They think because they haven’t had to wipe you in so long that you’ve given in. It’s amusing because it’s the exact opposite, isn’t it? You figured out-”

“Even a dog learns not to bark when the shock collar goes off too many times.” His frigid tone makes you flinch. You think to respond but his cold glare freezes your jaw shut. “It doesn’t mean a goddamn thing.”

“You’re wrong.” 

A muscle in his jaw ticks and you brace for his rebuttal. It doesn’t come. He simply turns and strides onto the terrace. 

To say that wasn’t what you expected would be an understatement. Last night he admitted to remembering you, admitted that what he did to Eric he did for the both of you. Clearly he had grabbed hold of a bit of autonomy, some level of self-awareness. Yet he didn’t see it as any kind of victory… 

Rather than push the matter, you sigh and begin repacking the boxes, tucking the nightmarish pieces of The Soldier’s puzzle away--all but one. 

The file was old, dating back to WWII, it’s edges frayed and flaking. Once more you flip open the cover. 

Held by a rusted paperclip is a black and white photo of a striking young man in military dress with a mischievous smile. 

Your eyes wander from the photo to the man on the terrace. Logically you knew they were the same person but at the same time, it seemed impossible. There was a spark in the person staring back at you in the photo, an effortless charm that couldn’t be dulled by the passage of time. For that energy to remain in a photograph and not in the man himself… 

Taking care to not damage the picture, you slide it from the paperclip. The document below held nothing but basic information, information he may want. The photo though--well it seemed almost cruel to present him with it when it was clear the man in it had died a long time ago. 

“Oh,” you breathe out as his reaction makes some kind of sense to you. 

Before you’d wondered if he may remember his name, it seemed marginally possible given that he’d known you. But after what you’d learned and how your words had clearly hurt you knew that wasn’t the case. He may have wrenched some control back out of sheer will over the past few years but it was, for him, a hollow victory.

With effort you swallow the lump in your throat, setting the file on top of the box before you head back to the room you’d slept in. 

Looking to take your mind off your bungled good deed you pick up the burner phone Mara had given you thinking to ring her to come on up until you note the early hour. The woman had been through hell, you could grant her a few more hours of what you hoped was restful sleep. 

Unable to think of anything else to do you get in the shower, turning the water to a scalding temperature. The sting on your skin grounding you in your body, making you feel present, as pain so often did. 

-

He wanted to… apologize? Maybe? Even though he wasn’t sure if he really wanted to or if he was just afraid of what may happen if he didn’t. 

She isn’t like that, he tries to tell himself. But whether that was the truth or just his own pathetic need for it to be true he didn’t know. 

If he was being honest, he could hardly tell up from down.

Sighing, he rubs his temples, forcing down a few deep breaths. 

She didn’t deserve that, a voice in his head whispers. It’s right. She may be the one who was wrong but he’d been needlessly cold. 

Squaring his shoulders he heads back inside only to be met by the sound of the shower. 

Relief floods him. He may have decided he would apologize but he hadn’t actually known what to say. Before he’s able to think more about it his eyes land on a single folder sitting conspicuously on top of the boxes. 

In the span of a heartbeat, everything around him falls away for just a moment. Then the alarm bells sound. 

He’s both too hot and too cold. His breath ragged, if not gasping.  In his chest, his heart threatens to break free. 

Still, he moves like a man possessed toward the unassuming document. 

All night he’d thought of coming out here and opening these boxes. Tearing through them with the hopes that he’d get back whatever they took from him or find out that there was nothing worth regaining. 

Really that’s what he wanted to learn. More than anything he wanted to open these boxes and know that he had always been this creature of Hydra. He wanted there to only be this. He needed the skinny boy with the busted lip and bright smile, the woman humming in a kitchen, and the little girl on ice skates who haunted his dreams to be figments crafted by his fractured mind. 

If the Soldier was all he ever was he could continue onward. Anything else… 

With shaking hands he lifts the file and opens it. 

It’s like being punched in the chest. 

Gasping he falls to his knees on the plush carpet. In his mind, he’s falling elsewhere. A man screams a word printed on the page. 

“Bucky!” 

It echoes through his very bones. Over and over. 

“Bucky, you promise I won’t fall?” The little girl wears a red scarf, her blue eyes big and trusting. 

“Bucky, take this to the table and tell your sisters to wash up.” The woman has the same blue eyes, her smile feels like home. 

“Bucky, I don’t need you to fight my battles.” The skinny boy says, wiping blood from his lip. 

“Bucky!”

“Bucky!”

It feels like the only sound in the world. 

“James!” 

That wasn’t right. 

“James!”

Another word. Another name. 

“James, you come back to us. You hear me boy?!” The man’s voice and face were severe but his brown eyes shone with tears. 

“James, you really bring out the best in him you know?” The woman’s red lips curl in a friendly smile. 

“Oh for fuck’s sake. James!” 

The sting of a slap brings reality crashing in sending all the nameless ghosts tumbling back into the fog always lingering at the edges of his mind. In their stead is a face with a name he knows. 

“Catherine.” 

She huffs out a breath, wet hair tumbling into her face smelling like flowers. When she looks back at him her eyes flood with regret. 

“I’m so sorry for hitting you. I… You didn’t seem to be breathing but you looked like you were screaming…”

“It’s o-”

“It isn’t ok.” Sighing, she sits cross-legged in front of him, her eyes lighting on the file still gripped in his hands. 

Only then do his eyes reluctantly find their way back to the page. 

Barnes, James “Bucky” Buchanan 

He fights down the bile rising in his throat. 

“James.” It comes out garbled like his tongue can’t quite make sense of the syllables. He doesn’t notice his trembling until her warm hand rests against his left forearm. 

“You called me, James.” 

“I did. Was that ok?” He meets her eyes once more, unsure of how to answer. “I won’t use it if-” Shaking his head he cuts her off glancing back at the page. 

“James is good.” Too many nameless faces whispered the other name. But James, there were fewer echoes there. 

“It’s an honor to meet you, James.”

Her voice is warm, soft. He almost thinks he’s imagining it. 

“Is it?”

“Without question.” She gives his arm a squeeze, and he knows this is real. 

“I assume you prefer coffee to tea?” Catherine asks as she rises to her feet, striding to the phone without explanation. 

“I-” He’s a bit baffled by the shift. 

“Well, you are American. So I assume you prefer coffee.” 

Did he? 

“I’ll get both and if you prefer coffee I win.” He can’t help but laugh a little. 

“What do you win?” 

“I’ll think of something.” She winks before picking up the receiver and James could almost swear his pulse quickened if only a little. 

TAGS

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[whumpinggrounds]

Febuwhump Day 6: Insomnia

notes that probably no one is reading but i am putting in anyway:

- this little drabble thingy takes place before all of my other febuwhump writing, so Mara is telling the truth about not having seen Jude.

-Jamie is very important and also i love her :)

CW: nothing i can think of!

Jamie’s not exactly beautiful. It takes a long time for most people to figure that out, because she’s so striking, but Mara was with Jamie long enough to know. It’s not the nicest train of thought, and Mara knows she should be better than this, but when she’s feeling small and mean, she can’t resist. And now that Jamie’s texting her for the first time in months, Mara gives in to her bitchy little worst impulse, pulls up the contact photo, and looks with critical eyes.

It’s the hair that does most of the work. Jamie’s hair is red, red, red. Not orange or strawberry blonde or even auburn; Jamie’s hair is red like no one’s ever seen. The color is true and deep and absolutely natural, and the long wavy locks are so long they almost reach her waist. Jamie looks like the photo on a box of dye at a CVS. People stop her on the street sometimes to ask what she does to it. Poor shy Jamie hates that, keeps her hair tied up in a bun or a braid almost always. It’s still impossible to ignore. It still makes people turn their heads when Jamie walks by; it’s the kind of thing that convinces strangers she’s absolutely stunning. They’re not wrong, because the hair itself is stunning, it’s just that once you get past the hair, Mara knows, Jamie is just sort of…plain. Nothing hideous, but nothing special either. Her eyes are nice enough. Blue. But her nose is kind of hooked at the end, and her skin is sort of sallow. She’s skinny. Not much else to her.

And, and, and there’s nothing wrong with her, of course, but she’s not as pretty as everyone thinks. Mara concludes it all over again after staring into the familiar smiling face on her screen, and the knowing soothes some bitterness deep in her chest. It’s not nice, thinking these things. It’s not right. But it brings Mara some small, vicious satisfaction, which she tells herself she’s earned.

It also takes her mind off the contents of Jamie’s text, if only for a little while.

Hey, have you heard from Jude at all lately?

There are a thousand different replies itching in Mara’s fingers. No, I haven’t fucking heard from Jude. You know we haven’t spoken in months. I kind of think you know why, too, and if you cared about me at all you would tell me what’s going ON.

That’s when Mara’s thoughts turn pathetic, as they always do. Something. Anything. Please god just tell me anything. If it got her some answers, she wouldn’t even care about how pitiful she sounded.

Mara growls, throws her phone at the couch.

Okay, so maybe she’d care.

Okay, so maybe what’s most tempting of all is a clean, simple, fuck off.

It takes a good few minutes of careful breathing before Mara is ready to let that one go.

All of that is anger, of course. Anger that would feel so, so good to express, to spit right out at Jamie – but beneath the anger there’s worry. A creeping fear. Why is Jamie asking her if she’s heard from Jude? Mara wants to believe that Jamie is insecure about Jude coming back to Mara, but…but what if it’s something worse? They’re in a dangerous line of work. Jude could be shortsighted, could be reckless. Anger is one thing, but the worry on its heels is a different monster altogether. It occupies Mara’s thoughts.

It’s not Mara’s business anymore, is it? She and Jude broke up. They haven’t spoken in months. If Jamie and Jude are so close now, then let Jamie worry about it. Let Jamie figure it out. It sounds great, in theory, just letting it go and moving on.

But Mara can’t. Letting go lasts as long as Mara can distract herself with cooking dinner and reviewing session notes and showering, but when she lies down to sleep, there’s no escape. When she lies down to sleep, Mara is left staring at the ceiling, obsessing over that text.

She’s had trouble sleeping since high school. Mara has a routine she sticks to religiously, one of those things that doctors swear will prevent this kind of night. Sometimes, though, even putting down her phone and reading a book and listening to soft music isn’t enough. Sometimes, Mara is left staring at the ceiling, well past midnight, thinking about Jamie, thinking about Jude.

Jamie thinks Jude might be with Mara, or at least talking to her. Does that mean something? Does that mean Mara might get an explanation, or to see Jude again? Is Jamie jealous? The bitter, mean part of Mara hopes so. The bigger part of Mara just wants to get some sleep, because her head is fuzzy and her eyes are stinging from continually swiping open to the white glare of her phone.

But no sleep comes.

It’s a little past 1 am when she finally can’t resist anymore, when she finally replies, and if Jamie reads something into Mara’s timing, well, fine.

No.

Jamie writes back within minutes, even though Mara knows she usually goes to sleep early. Nothing?

That’s what no means, Jamie.

Sorry.

The little gray dots pop up, disappear, pop up, disappear. Mara stares at them with morbid fascination. It just keeps getting later, and somehow, she’s never felt less tired. Her eyes burn from staring at the screen, but her mind is buzzing, buzzing. The text comes in. I’m just worried. We haven’t seen her around here for a while.

That makes Mara swallow hard. She flops back against her pillow, thoughts racing overtime. How long is a while? What kind of work do they have Jude doing, anyway? She’s supposed to be helping rescues in safehouses. That’s it. They all know she’s too impulsive for much else, likely to get caught in a fight or shoot her mouth off when she really shouldn’t. Goddamn stupid, impulsive, beautiful righteous Jude.

Mara finds herself on her feet pacing tight circles around her apartment. She’s been so good for so long, keeping all those stray thoughts of her ex out of her head. Now they overwhelm her – Jude’s eagerness, her bright eyes, her godawful sense of navigation, the dimple in her left cheek. Lib work is dangerous, no matter what way you spin it, so what does we haven’t seen her in a while fucking mean? Mara’s been angry and she’s been hurt, and it’s been brewing for months, but when she’s confronted with the idea of Jude in trouble, all that disappears. When she’s confronted with the thought of Jude in danger, all the fight drains out of her as neatly as a glass tipped on its side. Her knees feel weak, and she sits down on the bed again. Jude. If Mara was with her, things would be different. If Mara just knew where she was, could keep an eye on her…

Mara keeps staring at the unhelpful little words on the screen as if they’ll relent and change into something different, better, something that can give her peace of mind. Nothing changes, and she sets her jaw and forces a response, because she’s angry and afraid and she can’t just leave it there, not knowing.

Well, what happened? Aren’t you looking out for her?

I am.

Almost immediately afterwards, I mean, we are. Whatever. Just let me know if you hear from her, okay?

We are. Mara snorts darkly as she reads that, Jamie’s poor attempt at acting innocent. Sure, Jude has other friends, but Jamie is something else. Something more. Jamie is the reason Jude broke up with her. Mara knows it, even if no one will admit anything outright.

Hand coming up to scrub against her temple, Mara heaves out a sigh, and with it, forces down all the toxic, confused fury she wants to spit through the phone screen. When the anger abates, she feels suddenly exhausted, and more than a little afraid.

She reads the text again, focuses on the important part. Just let me know if you hear from her, okay?

Sighing, Mara taps out a response. Yeah. Try to keep her safe, okay?

Another almost instant response. I will.

Anger can’t be long denied, and upon seeing Jamie’s text, it bubbles back up under Mara’s skin. Really? Really, Jamie thinks that she can look after Jude? Mara and Jude dated for a year with no problem, and then as soon as Jamie entered the picture, things went south. Now that it’s just Jamie and Jude, things have gone to shit. So a promise from her doesn’t mean a whole hell of a lot.

Mara taps out a message but never sends it, even though she hardly sleeps two hours that night. Time drags by, and she tries to distract herself on the Internet, but over and over she clicks back to her conversation with Jamie, to read the words she wants to send but knows she shouldn’t.

Really, Jamie? You’ll keep her safe? Because it doesn’t sound like you’re doing a very good job.

[caydesgirl-uldrensprincess]

More about my Warlock

Guardians name: Isabelle Aubrey Brigham

Age: 27

Race: Awoken

Pronouns: She/Her

Class: Warlock

Preferred subclass(es): Void

Ghost's name: Hermoine

Fireteam name: The Sisterhood

Fireteam teammates: Chloe Brask, Tori-3, and Sage Heathcliff

Favorite legendary weapon: The Supremacy

Favorite exotic weapon: Hawkmoon

Favorite exotic armor: Felwinter's Helm

Favorite ornament armor set: Celestial

Favorite weapon ornament: On Ashen Wings

What stats do they focus on: Mobility and Recovery

Are they offense, defence, or support: Support

Do they prefer being close, mid, or long range: Long

Do they lean more "Element of Surprise" or "Upfront and Aggressive": Element of Surprise

Strikes, Gambit, or Crucible: Crucible

Who was their mentor(if they had one. If it is a character you created, tell us about them!): Ikora Rey

What ship do they have: Starfarer 7M

What is their Sparrow: Always on Time

Favorite Ghost shell: Star Map Shell

Favorite shader: Dawn and Dusk

Favorite color: Pink

Favorite food: Italian

Favorite piece of Pre-Collapse tech(if they've seen any): Her Nook e-book portable reader

Favorite Pre-Collapse music(if they've heard any): Disney and pop

Favorite place in The Last City(if it's a place you created, give a little description!): the giant park in the middle (it's kinda like Central Park in NYC)

Favorite NPC(s): Uldren/Crow, Ikora, Orisis, Saint-14, Shaxx, and Eris

Favorite patrol location: The Dreaming City

5 things your Guardian likes(can be anything): read, cook/bake, dance, sing, and going to Disney

Least favorite food: Kale

Least favorite shader: Indigo Matrix

Least favorite patrol location: Nessus

Least favorite Pre-Collapse tech(if they've seen any):  not really

Least favorite NPC(s): Asher Mir

Least favorite weapon ornament: Bound Hammer

Least favorite ornament armor set: Intrepid

Least favorite legendary weapon: any pulse rifle

Least favorite exotic weapon: Coldheart

Least favorite exotic armor: Sunbracers

5 things your Guardian dislikes(this can be anything): Mess (Isabelle has major OCD),  liars, Spider, Riven, and cats (she's allergic)

Your Guardian has to rest. What is their living space like: A very clean and spotless apartment.

Does your Guardian have any casual wear?:

What hobbies and/or skills does your Guardian have: Cooking, memorizing (she's a walking encyclopedia), and strategy

What would your Guardian's lore book be called: Forbidden

Where was your Guardian reborn?(If you created the location, give us a little description!): London, England

What were they wearing when they were reborn: a blouse, dress shorts for women, and flats

What was their reaction to being reborn: "how is this possible?"

What was their reaction to their first rez: *looking at her ghost* "You can do that?"

After being reborn, did they meet friendlies first or hostiles: Hostiles, Isabelle ran into the Hive

Who was the first other Guardian they met?(Same thing! If you made them, give a little description!): Osiris

Did your Guardian get reborn with, or find, any indication of their past life? If so what do they have/found: no

How did your Guardian get their name(if they didn't rez with past life momentos): Her ghost just knew that her name was Isabelle

Going back to your Guardian's lore book, what would be some some quotes or passages from their book: "I love you, Uldren, unconditionally. Your dark side won't scare me off." "You're my best friend, of course I'm coming with you!" and "Dreams are something that we truly wish, we only need the courage and perseverance to make them come true."

Does your Guardian have a significant other: Uldren/Crow

Did your Guardian go explore first before going to The Last City? If so, where to: Isabelle explored this old library in London, she found so many books that peaked her interest

What was their reaction to first seeing The Last City: "This place is so bloody crowded!"

Is your Guardian a part of a clan: no

Does your Guardian's clan have a back story? If so, what is it?(if you want to or able to share): nope

If your Guardian would have a quote as a flavor text for a weapon and/or piece of armor, what would they be:  "Do you want to know you I call her Belladonna? It's because death is the deadlist poison put there."

If your Guardian has had any interactions with any civilians (The Last City/The Farm), Eliksni, Cabal, Vex, Hive, Taken, Scorn, Rouge Lightbearers, or Iron Lords/War Lords(if your Guardian is an Old Light) tell us about it!: not really, Isabelle prefers books over socializing

Does your Guardian have any unconventional allies or connections(By Vanguard standards): no

How does your Guardian feel about themselves or others using Stasis: Isabelle doesn't like it, she thinks that if guardians use it long enough, it'll start to slowly corrupt their minds.

Did they run The Last Wish raid? How did they react to seeing a live Ahamkara a.k.a Riven: She felt nothing but anger towards Riven, the wish dragon was the reason Isabelle lost Uldren.

Did they run The Deep Stone Crypt raid? How did they react to the Crypt and seeing Exo Eliskni: She thought it was interesting and wanted to know more.

Is your Guardian from D1? How did they react to seeing Taniks alive once again: Yes, Isabelle is from D1, she had to calm Chloe down, but she was equally shocked.

Where did they go and what did they do during The Red War: She helped the children at the Farm calm down by reading them stories like Harry Potter or Percy Jackson

Here are some characters that are either polarizing or have created a strong enough mass emotion within the community. What opinion does your Guardian hold on each of them(These are only a handful of characters!)>>>

Osiris, First Warlock Vanguard, originally exiled: A great friend

Eris Morn, Bane of the Swarm: A really close friend

Cayde-6, Sixth Hunter Vanguard: A great friend

Ikora Rey, Second Warlock Vanguard: Mentor, teacher, friend

Commander Zavala, Second Titan Vanguard: respect

Saint-14, legendary Titan, First Titan Vanguard: even more respecr

Lord Saladin, Iron Banner handler, One of the last remaining Iron Lords: she does really mind Saladin

Lord Shaxx, Crucible handler, Hero of Twilight Gap, living megaphone: She praises him for the encouragements during Crucible matches

The Crow, New Light, Ex-Enforcer to The Spider: The love of her life, Isabelle would do anything for him.

The Spider, The Shore's Only Law, founder of "House" Spider: She never trusted Spider

Uldren Sov, Prince of the Reef, Master of Crows: The love of her life, the first person would made Isabelle feel loved and wanted by someone romantically

Mara Sov, Queen of the Reef, Queen of the Awoken, Ex-Kell of Wolves: Isabelle's Sister-In-Law, she respects Mara

Variks, the Loyal, founder of House Judgement: very good friends

Mithrax, the Forsaken, Kell of Light, founder of House Light: very good friends

The Exo Stranger/Elizabeth "Elsie" Bray, Granddaughter of Clovis I and Sister to Ana Bray: Isabelle, like Chloe, found Elsie to be closed off and hard to read

Eramis, of House Salvation, Kell of Darkness: Eh, just another day at the office

Empress Caiatl of the Cabal Imperial Empire: Isabelle is weary about her.

Taniks the Scarred, the Perfected, the Abomination, the Shadow Thief: when it comes to this bastard, Isabelle sides with Chloe

The Darkness is fast approaching. How is your Guardian handling it: She nervous, but Isabelle tries to keep a level head

And finally, does your Guardian have any advice for any New Lights: "Out on the battle field things aren't always what they seem, but it's important not to lose sight of what truly matters and that's protecting the Traveler, the Light, and those who can't protect themselves."

[mrchalamet-mrstyles]

*A MUST READ:*

Robert Pattinson and Kristen Stewart never broke up. Indeed, their split was merely a distraction for the press that would guarantee the former Twilight stars privacy. In the interim period, where Pattinson got engaged to FKA Twigs and Stewart dated a series of women, including St. Vincent, the pair were actually living in wedded bliss. Their PR game was so effective that it helped to hide no fewer than two pregnancies for Stewart. Now, the Pattinson-Stewart family are happy together, laughing at the ignorance of the press and public who believe they broke up years ago and moved onto fulfilling and happy relationships with other people.

Of all the weird celebrity conspiracies that pollute the internet, the Robsten fandom may be my favourite one. It has everything: Press conspiracies, outlandish theories that would put Moon landing truthers to shame, the inability to tell reality from fiction, and of course, bad photoshops. Every now and then, when I see Pattinson and Stewart in the headlines, I go and visit the tin-hatters’ sites for that potent combination of entertainment and fear for my life. It’s astounding that they’re still keeping up this façade. 

As time passes, I wonder more and more if they truly believe it or if they’re going full My Immortal with the scam. It’s too outlandish to be real, yet the emotions behind it clearly are.

Sadly, this is nothing new for the world of shippers, nor is it limited to the breeding pair of Twilight. Name a prominent pop culture property and the chances are there are hardcore shippers whose interest goes beyond a fizzy hobby. Some fans truly believe that Jamie Dornan and Dakota Johnson are a real couple, which is hysterical because their chemistry levels in the Fifty Shades series are sub-zero. The stars of Outlander face the same shippers. Taylor Swift and Karlie Kloss are secret lesbian lovers, according to a subset of their fandom. Cate Blanchett will eventually leave her husband and children for Carol co-star Rooney Mara, thus freeing her from an exploitative bearding relationship with Joaquin Phoenix. The Larry fandom have yet to admit defeat, even as both Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson admit the fan delusions over their supposed secret romance hurt their real-life friendship. The Supernatural guys may never shake those conspiracies.

It isn’t all romance related either. Spare a thought for poor Benedict Cumberbatch, whose already overzealous fan-base includes a portion of people who think he was trapped into marriage and fatherhood by his wife, who they paint as the modern-day iteration of Medea. They don’t even think his kids are real. Apparently, one of them is clearly a doll.

I could go on, listing the many other fandoms I’ve come across with these near identical conspiracies of secret relationships, hidden children, public relations bullying, and so on. From Scandal to Orange is the New Black to The Hunger Games, it’s as big a part of fandom as cosplay and dirty fanfiction. A lot of the time, the celebrities being obsessed over don’t even know it’s happening. 

If they call it out, as Robert Pattinson did, or mock it, like Armie Hammer recently did on Instagram after someone DM-d him to claim he should be gay like his character in Call Me By Your Name, then they write that off as simply proving their point. The majority of fans deride and condemn this behaviour, partly because it reflects badly on everyone else but mostly because it’s blatant bullshit that should be treated as such. What is most striking about these myriad conspiracies is how eerily similar they all are in terms of tone and content.

The basic set-up for a tin-hatter shipping conspiracy is thus: The pair are in love, the pair are in a serious relationship, but they have to hide it from the world because of ‘evil PR’. The nature of this shadowy public relations organization is never made clear. It’s mostly rooted in conjecture and a hazy understanding of how the entertainment industry has worked over the decades. 

Historically, publicists and studios have operated with a certain degree of shadiness. In the Golden Era of Hollywood, where studios reigned supreme, a star’s image could be kept on a tight leash and their indiscretions hidden from the public. Fixers like Eddie Mannix (made famous in the Coen Brothers’ movie Hail, Caesar!) could clear up all manner of problems if the occasion called for it. Pregnancies could be hidden, illegal abortions procured, marriages annulled or concealed, and even the occasional murder dealt with (allegedly). We know this stuff happened, and we know that today, publicists do a lot of work to keep their clients happy. That probably doesn’t extend so far as to covering up marriages and multiple pregnancies and fake babies.

The psychologies behind these tin-hatter conspiracies tend to be remarkably similar too. There’s always massive amounts of paranoia at the heart of their delusions. Arrogance is key as well. You need infallible ego to maintain repeatedly debunked fantasies. They talk of their conspiracies as if they’re the most obvious truths in the world, deriding the ‘ignorant masses’ who refuse to see the reality in front of them, which they’ve kindly circled in MS Paint. The mentality is frequently rooted in a strong brand of self-victimization: They tie their theories to social issues like homophobia and claim anyone who opposes their belief that the One Direction guys are in love are clearly bigots. Even when the people in question call out this nonsense, they’re written off as poor closeted prisoners of invincible publicists. The game of tin-hating shippers is designed so that they never lose.

That’s the sad part of this all. They won’t be proven wrong simply because they’ve invested too much of themselves into this fantasy. They run around in circles, desperately claiming everything is against them and only they are smart enough to know the truth. 

If Caitriona Balfe and Sam Heughan insist they’re just friends, it’s only to throw everyone off the scent. When Tony Goldwyn talks of his love for his wife, it’s just to distract everyone from his romance with Kerry Washington. If Robert Pattinson is smiling in public, it’s because he’s thinking of Kristen; if he’s looking a bit down, it’s because he’s thinking of Kristen.

When the fantasy does begin to crumble, the tin-hatters get violent in their rhetoric. Taylor Schilling’s rumoured boyfriend briefly deleted his social media after receiving harassment from her fans who think she’s with Laura Prepon (who just had a baby with Ben Foster). Rooney Mara’s so-called fans called her a disgrace for dating a man and claimed she was letting down LGBTQ+ kids everywhere because of it. Robert Pattinson’s then-girlfriend FKA Twigs faced all manner of horrific racist and sexist abuse for simply existing. It can be easy to laugh people like this off, but we’ve also seen what happens to celebrities when their obsessive fans decide to invade their lives. A 19-year-old fan of Lana Del Rey drove cross-country to her house, broke into her garage and tweeted about it. An obsessive fan of Paula Abdul committed suicide outside her house. Rebecca Schaeffer’s stalker shot her on her own doorstep.

Real person shipping (or RPF) doesn’t bother me in theory. If you just treat it like any other fandom hobby - safe, private, clearly fiction - then go for it. There’s a major difference between liking two actors and writing silly fanfiction about them and going to extremes to prove they’re actually married. 

The people who cross that line are a minority, but they’re a loud and insidious minority who shouldn’t be written off as mere ‘crazies’.

This phenomenon is undoubtedly fascinating and reveals a lot about various intersections of celebrity, media, the internet, fandom, and so on. It’s worth keeping an eye on, if only to ensure nobody gets hurt, because it’s not unique to internet culture. This stuff breeds, and that should concern us all.

Now, when do I get my shadowy PR conspiracy cheque?

[aradias-crypt]

Sinful Symphonies

“This song again?” You rub your temples, your eye twitching as the sound of heavy metal drones on in your head. It overwhelms the sound of your own music. Setting down your palette, you drop your paintbrush into a jar of solvent before marching to your radio resting on the windowsill of your room.

Lowering the volume, you wait for the music on your other’s “side” to soften. You honestly pity their eardrums if they listen to music this loudly.

Soon, the music stops altogether.

Good.

You crank up your own music to full blast. A smug smile tugs at your lips.

“Hope you like jazz, jerk face.”

Ever since the day you were born, music seemed to stream constantly to you from your other half’s side. Whether it was night or day, music played ceaselessly. When you were young, you’d make a game of playing your favorite records to try and share your tastes with your soulmate, hoping they’d eventually show an interest in the same music.

Their music didn’t change exactly, mostly sticking to classics and rock, but on nights when your room grew uncomfortably quiet, soft music would play and lull you to sleep.

Childhood was fun, full of guessing games and the like, but the tune changed when you reached your teens. As supers made more and more appearances in your life, the music grew darker and twisted, as if the person on the other side was directly affected in some way.

Soon, your game of appeasing your other evolved into a game of bothering them as they did you. Some days you won, some you lost. You blasted ballads and pop songs while they flooded you with death metal and songs you couldn’t decipher. You won the mornings while they won the nights. Mostly when you were preparing to sleep.

At the very least, they didn’t often get hurt. That, you were grateful for. Pain is also shared between soulmates, though the physical wound of the other is only momentary for the partner.

“Still, you have a wicked sense of humor, love.” You sigh, rubbing your eyes as the memory of flesh falling from your face comes to mind. There’s been plenty of times where your body ached from phantom shifting, but the physical wounds always hurt the most. “Making me worry about you when you put yourself in situations like that.”

Perhaps they're a hero or a villain. Its entirely possible. Supers put themselves in harms way all the time. Maybe it wasn’t recklessness but the goodness of their hearts that drove them into danger.

...or they were just a prankster

Either way, they were getting drop kicked to the heavens when you found them.

“Now that I think of it, they have to be pretty old if they’ve been at this since I was born.” You muse to yourself, brushing your hair back as you pick up where you left off on the canvas covered in oil paint before you.

“Maybe I’ll paint you one day.”

——

“Starting off with Dean Martin I see” you adjust the strap of your supply bag to rest more comfortably across your chest. The smooth crooning of the late singer invades your thoughts; its a nice change of pace. “You must be having a good day huh?” Exiting your car, you hum along to the song as you open the trunk of your car to take out your painting.

For your college class, you decide to bring in your painting of the final battle between the Headless Rider and Bright Knight; a super-villain and superhero who later disappeared from the public’s eye. You were pretty damn proud of the piece, seeing how it had taken you weeks to finish.

Entering the liberal and performing arts center, you head for the elevators. On the way you pass by several.. odd looking individuals. They were robots. However, living in a world full of supers means not much phases you anymore.

Shrugging, you continue your journey and makes your way up to the 11th floor. Passing by Mara, one of your classmates, the two of you start up a conversation about the sudden appearance of the Four Horsemen. Mercenaries that arrived from Calamni {a country far to the south}, the Horsemen brought with them a new wave of terror; ranging from riots to bio weapons. They didn't act on their own but would do nearly anything for the right price.

“I’m afraid to go outside at night.. I hear Pestilence is preparing something real nasty. They say she’s the one behind the break in at the CDC.” Mara says, her skin turning ashen at the thought of the pale rider.

”Are you up to date on all your shots?” You respond jokingly, smiling down at the shorter girl.

Mara whines and clutches her sculpture to her chest,”Its not funny, I get sick super easily. And what if my soulmate is in the area of the attack? I don’t want to lose them before I even meet them!”

“I’m sure you and your soulmate will be just fine” You reassuringly state,”Just drink a lot of orange juice and take your vitamins.” You wink playfully.

Your classmate frowns. ”What about you, aren’t you worried about your soulmate?”

“They’ve gone through worse than a little cold. I think they’ll be just fine” They didn’t seem to feel worried, if the transitioning sound to Frank Sinatra was any indication of their mood.

Diverting from your original discussion, you both prepare yourselves for the upcoming critiques.

However, before you can step through the doors to class, a rattling boom shakes you both to the core. You drop to the ground and assess the environment around you.

The floor titters and jolts.

Never a good sign.

“Oh gods please-!” Mara shouts as the ceiling begins to crack and bend.

‘Time to go.’ You think.

Jumping to your feet you yank Mara up, leaving behind your painting as you run to the emergency stairs,”Lets get out of here!”

Mara clutches your sleeve as people fleeing from classrooms bump and push against her. Many head towards the closest stairway while others rush towards the windows in hopes of flagging down help from the outside.

“What if the stairs are blocked!” Mara screams over the sound of mayhem.

You yank open the door and begin your descent,”We’ll burn that bridge when we get there!”

———————————

True to Maras fear, the stairway was blocked in by bent beams and debris.

Still, music comes from your other.

Such lovely music in such a shitty time.

Mara backs away and begins tangling her fingers in her hair,”We have to call the police!”

You mumble,”They won’t get here in time, the building will collapse by then.” Peeking under a leaning beam, you spot a ray of light. A small whistle can be heard from the other side as well.

Wind?

“I think the explosion must’ve caused the rubble to break the wall on the other side.” You back up slightly, flinching as the foundations above you begin to groan.

“We aren’t strong enough to get through, and we’re still on the 7th floor! There’s no way we would survive that fall!”

“Actually..” You whisper nervously,”I am strong enough..”

With a flick of your wrists, gauntlets form around your hands and down to your elbows; encasing them in polished metal.

“H..how-“ Mara sputters, instantly recognizing the emblem on the back of your hands. She presses herself against the wall, glancing at the stairs behind her.

“You’re a Horseman” she squeaks,”the same family as-“

You raise your hands in defense,”Same as the Headless Rider and the Four. Yes, but I promise I mean you no harm.”

Mara laughs incredulously,”You’re trying to make us jump 7 stories, what do you by mean ‘you no harm’?! How do I know that your clan isn’t the one behind this attack?!”

“They may be infuriating but my siblings would never kill me off like this, trust me, we pinky swore as kids. Now, I know this is weird but it’s either jumping or getting crushed to death.” You intercede before she can interrupt,”And I don’t think either of our soulmates would like that very much.”

Gulping down several deep breaths Mara looks past you to the rubble blocking the wall.

”..You can’t just clear the rest of the stairs..?”

“I’m fast but not that fast” The rumbling grows deafening. Even from here, the sounds of screaming can be heard from upstairs. But it too is silenced by the destruction.

You growl,”Choose now Mara!”

“Okay!” Mara whimpers,”Okay! Please, get us out of here.”

Pivoting on your heel, you strike the rubble with gauntlets glowing like a steel forge. Instantly, the cement gives way, turning to dust and leaving only beams that are easily pushed away. Making a clear path to the opening in the wall, you break the edges of the wall to widen the hole further.

As expected, wind whips your face as you loom over the opening. Squinting against the biting breeze, you spot the cause of the explosion at the base of the building.

The robots from before are lugging out bag after bag of artifacts and large containment tubes of delicate articles and manuscripts. Smaller bots stand at the ground level of your current building with armfuls of explosives.

For a moment, you question why they would target your building when it holds nothing of importance. But then you remember the security office on the first floor that has direct phone access to the League of Heroes.

And the other building..

“They were after the restoration sector.” You mutter under your breath,”All this destruction for some silly papers..” Backing up from the opening, you summon the rest of your signature armor to shield your body. Your clan would definitely scold you for revealing herself to a civilian, but you would get even worse if you revealed yourself to the whole school.

“I’m going to jump. Whatever you do, don’t squirm, okay?” Lifting Mara into your arms, you brace yourself to jump.

You weren’t afraid of heights after your training with your siblings, but that didn’t make you fond of the idea of falling.

Mara covers her face with one hand while latching the other around your neck,”Please don’t drop me.”

You walk up the hole,”I don’t know, that sounds pretty tempting.”

“You better not-“ Mara is cut off as you both go plummeting down, her words die in her throat as she screams in terror at the sudden free fall.

On the other hand, you take this moment to look for any sign of the lead villain. Usually when robots are involved, the brains behind the operation is nearby to ensure their plan goes smoothly. But all you could see was a flash of green scaling the second building and what must’ve been a science major panicking below it as you fell.

Poor guy looked like he was losing his shit. You chuckle under your helmet.

Nearing impact, you adjust your grip on Mara to aim your right fist at the ground.

War was the brawler in the family, but that didn’t mean you didn’t pack a punch.

Releasing a wave of violet energy, the force exerted slows the fall just enough to allow you to land with minor injuries. Left with a light sprain and a crick in the neck from Maras grip, you hide behind a bush near the back of the art department.

Mara reluctantly opens her eyes, sighing with relief at the sight of safe and sturdy ground. Looking up at you, she smiles sheepishly,”Thank you ..for helping me.”

You smile under the helmet, the slits for eyes emitting a soft lavender glow.

“You’re welcome. But know that if you tell anyone my secret I will have to kill you.”

“Duly noted.” Mara laughs with a twinge of nerves.

Setting her down gently, you wait for her to regain her balance before pointing to the robots,”I’ll handle them, you get out of here and make sure the school contacts the LoH.”

Mara nods, running to the main campus.

Left alone, you crack your knuckles as you approach the restoration building.

‘I don’t want to set the world on fire’ plays on in your head, a silent requiem for the collapsing building behind you.

Debris passes by you as the floors finally cave in.

Your soulmate gave you numerous injuries.

They could handle yours.

———————

Flug had many fears, mostly two-

“WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! LOOK AT ME NERD!”

Three. Three fears.

The first being Black Hat, who just recently took Flug on as his chief scientist. He would have been overjoyed were it not for his new masters record with past employees.

Dead, dead, double dead, mutilated horribly, missing, eaten, exsanguinated, excravated, eviscerated, and so on.

No one ever just “quit”. Unless they “quit life” but that decision seemed to be Black Hat’s instead of theirs.

His second fear was still Black Hat, but it mostly was towards the idea of failing him and turning out like the people before him. Flug was durable due to experiments he tested on himself and maybe even some of his heritage.. but he was surely not durable enough to face the incarnation of evil himself and get away unscathed.

His third fear was the woman above him currently frightening the people stuck inside the building she was climbing.

She was his creation, in a way, mixing lizard DNA with a normal human to test hybridization and its affects on the human psyche. While it did give the subject an immunity to most poisons, heightened strength and the ability to climb walls-among other things- her mindset was changed drastically.

He’d have to remember to ask Black Hat just what lizard he gave him for the experiment.

“Hey doc, what are we gonna do with these guys!” Dememcia waves excitedly to the people inside, grinning at the fear in their eyes.

Flug adjusts his goggles,”Leave them I guess? We just need a few more documents and we’ll be done here.” Why a lower class villain would want these papers were beyond him. Based on his research and examinations of security footage, they weren’t very important at all. Maybe this villain just had an odd hobby.

Unlatching herself from the building, Demencia rolls to the ground, landing perfectly on her feet.. Stretching her arms over her head, she counts the hatbots retreating from the structure.

“1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7- hey!” A blast singes the top of her head, burning her hoodie.

Flug turns around and cocks the blaster in his hand,”Who’s there!”

You approach them silently with your gauntlet pointed to Demencia. Activating your vocal distortion box you hiss,”So many bots for a simple college run, eh?”

Demencia smiles menacingly,”Look Flug, a new bug to squish!”

Flug’s squints, doing a quick evaluation of the villain who-! His eyes widen in fear.

”Demencia wait!”

Demencia launches herself with full force, effectively slamming you into the ground with a heavy thud.

Digging your fingers into the hybrids hair, you headbutt her, letting go after hearing a wet crunch of bone.

Demencia jumps away, wiping a trail of blood running from her nose,”Ohhh, I like you~” Her eyes shine with excitement.

“Can’t say the same” You stand and wince at the throbbing pain forming behind your eyes. Unlike your siblings who had a natural buffer to keep them from feeling the affects of their abilities, you inherited drawbacks from your mothers side. The more you fought, the more your body suffered.

Power came at a price.

A sudden blow to your diaphragm knocks the air out of your lungs, causing you to skid back several feet

You allow yourself only a moment to catch your breath.

‘Pitiful’ you think to yourself,’I’ve let myself become soft.’ You look to the girl in front of you, her fist bloody but her grin still plastered on her face.

You weren’t Conquest, or War, or Pestilence, or even Death.

But you weren’t weak.

Your gauntlets begin to glow as your armor shifts. Slamming them together, they morph to form spikes along the knuckles.

Flug calls out again to Demencia who dances in place, unaware of the enemy in front of her drawing closer,”Don’t let her hit you!”

“Aww come on doc, she’s just a poser! Look-“

Demencia is knocked to her knees.

Blast after blast, spikes of energy pierce her body, sending her further into the ground.

Fumbling with his blaster, Flug retrieves a remote from his coat, pressing a bright red button.

“H-Hatbots, attack!”

[harryandmolly]

Complicit // 2

summary: Shawn is under more pressure than he’s ever known. He craves release and comfort, the simplicity of sex. He gets more than he bargained for.

warnings: language, NSFW, possibly gratuitous fashion description

WC: 5.3k

-------------

Niall drops his head and leans into the final note, squinting and scrunching his face as he riddles out this one song that’s been driving him up a wall for almost a week. He feels a flicker of inspiration, reaches for it as he looks out the window toward the balcony of his Hollywood Hills home. His brow furrows, his fingers wind up to strike the strings again, and--

Buzz. Buzzzzzzz. Buzzbuzz.

He swears under his breath and tosses the acoustic beside him on the couch. He can’t admit to himself that he’s grateful for the distraction, so he decides to be annoyed with whomever is calling.

Shawny Boi.

He sighs. He can’t be annoyed with Shawn. It’s like being annoyed with a labradoodle puppy.

“Hey, mate.”

“Hey man, how’s it going?”

Niall laughs. Shawn’s voice is bright and edging toward chipper. He can hear his doofy, multi-million dollar smile through the phone. And Niall knows who put it there.

“I guess that first date was good, then?”

Shawn, pacing around barefoot in his kitchen, grins eagerly and strokes a hand through his messy curls. “Oh… man. Dude, it was… so good. I should’ve done this years ago.”

Niall, bemused, shimmies further into the cushions of his couch, trying not to feel like the old and wise man Shawn sees him as. “Shawny, you’re 21. How long ago are you talkin’ about?”

Shawn laughs, bubbly and strange somehow, like he’s high. Niall’s seen Shawn high when they’ve smoked weed together. He doesn’t get giggly, he gets philosophical. And hungry.

This is a different high altogether.

“You know what I mean, man. Feels good, feels like I can like… handle shit now. Y’know? Like I was so tired and didn’t even realize it and then I got to sleep for like two full days and I’m all good again.”

Niall’s familiar with the feeling. His first date with Karina was similarly revitalizing. He was bouncing off the walls for a week. He nods in understanding.

“‘S a great feeling, havin’ someone take all the pressure off and force you to just… feel good.”

“Yeah,” Shawn answers dreamily, “I just wanted to like, thank you again. I think this kinda saved my ass.”

Niall smiles to himself and bounces his bad knee, glancing out the window. “Gonna see her again, then?”

“Definitely. I’m gonna call again today.”

Niall’s knee slows. He bites his lip and tilts his head from side to side. “Listen, mate, just don’t get attached. I know it feels good, but it still doesn’t compare to something… real.”

Shawn bobs his head at the reality he’s been trying to remind himself of in the 24 hours since she slipped back into her Roger Vivier heels and left him in bed with a kiss on the cheek and a glint in her warm, tired eyes. He drops his head and rolls it, stretching his neck.

“Yeah, no, I mean, I know. I just feel like I got so much shit pent up over the last few months. And I’m about to go home for a week and then this whole festival thing is lined up to kick my ass all summer, plus I’ll be flying back and forth to LA to be seen with Bex, so… I’m just… I dunno.”

It’s a weak explanation. He huffs, his chest deflating, indignant at the idea of having to explain himself at all. He’s a grown man, he can do what he wants with his time and money and attention. He needs this. It’s therapeutic. It’s good for him. And it feels so fucking good.

Niall rubs a hand against the scruff under his chin. “Hey, it’s all you, mate. Whatever you wanna do. I’m glad it’s helped.”

“Yeah. Thanks again, dude. I’ll see ya soon.”

Shawn hangs up and, with color in his cheeks, skims through his contacts to find La Splendeur saved under the name “Dentist,” just in case. His hand shakes a little as he holds the phone to his ear.

+

The temperature change leaving the LA heat wave outdoors to stepping into Silver’s 6 bedroom Beverly Hills modern monstrosity of a home has Penny wincing and cursing herself for not remembering a jacket. Twice a month they have this meeting, always in the quiet security of Silver’s house rather than discussing business out in the open, and nearly every time Penny sits and shivers.

“Welcome home, love.”

Silver’s voice rings through the high-ceilinged foyer, crisp and lightly accented by British boarding school and Cambridge. Penny looks up to see her on the landing above in a white Theory pantsuit that’s tailored so sharply she looks untouchable. Penny smiles. Home, indeed.

Silver’s steps down the staircase are quiet, despite the sleek marble beneath her stilettoed feet. Despite the facade of the outfit, she takes Penny in her arms and kisses her cheeks three times, offering her arm to guide them into the living room where a full Japanese tea service waits.

Silver’s friendship is an odd and somehow comforting mix of formality and family. Penny’s never seen her underdressed, or sick, or overly emotional. And despite Silver’s perceived coldness, reflected in her choice of home and interior decorating, Penny has always felt safe and loved in her presence, ever since Silver first hired her as an escort at 20.

Penny, respectfully also in business formal, a pale pink Max Mara pencil dress and creamy nude Louboutins (a gift from Silver for her birthday), perches on the edge of the snowy white chaise and faces her best friend.

Silver sweeps a lock of dark hair behind her ear and grins.

“So how was it?”

Penny’s face lights up. She drums her fingers against her knee and tries to play coy. “Spectacular.”

“Good, tell me everything.”

Penny lifts a cleanly filled brow. “Hard up, are we?”

Silver chuckles and eyes the tea service. “Have you ever known me to be without?”

Silver, long since retired from escorting herself, has had a long line of pretty young things hanging around since Penny has known her, but never for very long. Last Penny heard, Yvette, a fresh faced lingerie model from Nice, was the flavor of the month. Silver doesn’t spend a night alone if she doesn’t want to.

Penny cedes with a nod and a smirk. “So you’re just girlishly curious?”

Silver lifts a toned shoulder and sips her tea. “It’s nice to see how the other half lives sometimes. And it’s good business for me to know what clients like him can be like. Makes me a better manager.”

Silver launched La Splendeur two years after hiring Penny with the idea that Silver would largely oversee the personnel -- drivers, girls, clients -- and Penny with her head for business would run the logistics -- the books, legal, and some of the legitimate earnings attached to La Splendeur that keeps curious eyes from gazing too close. They became partners, each sharing equal cuts of the profits, each assigned to manage the parts of the organization where they had the most acumen.

This bimonthly meeting is designed to keep both ends running smoothly as well as serving as an excuse for two busy friends to meet up under legitimate circumstances. Silver doesn’t often show much interest in Penny’s dates after they’ve been vetted and approved. Penny wonders what it is about Shawn that has her curious.

“He was very nervous. We did a lot of work to get him to let go. Honestly, he’s one of the trickier clients I’ve seen in a while. But once I got him there…”

Penny’s eyes flutter shut as she revisits her night with Shawn. Even after she made him come twice in a row in her hand, he had more for her. They were up most of the night with brief naps in between wild, uncontrollable orgasms. Truthfully, Penny’s not sure she’s ever had such an enthusiastic first date with a client. She’s been on cloud nine for days thinking about how calm and deeply satisfied he looked the next morning.

When she looks back at Silver, her intensely dark eyes are gleaming mischievously. Penny rolls her own.

“I’m glad he enjoyed himself. He called to rebook you. You have a room at The London tomorrow night at 9.”

Penny tries not to lick her lips insatiably but Silver knows her too well. She releases an echo-y, delighted laugh.

“Seems like maybe you have a new favorite?” she guesses.

Penny’s eyes drop to her own half-drunk cup of tea. “We’ll see. Some guys like this, they start hot and heavy and lose steam fast. Maybe he just needs this boost and he’ll be on his merry pop star way.”

Silver, ever unnervingly wise and all-seeing, nods and glances out her windows that look out onto the Los Angeles skyline. “Maybe.”

Penny feels the hair raise on the back of her neck and swallows, reaching for her laptop. “Let’s go over this month.”

+

Shawn recognizes the guy in the dark suit standing outside the room when he gets off the elevator with Winston Churchill on the doors. He offers him a shaky smile, trying not to imagine what he must be thinking about why Shawn is seeing this woman twice in one week. Shawn’s been trying not to look too closely at that himself since he booked the second date.

Gus, Shawn thinks his name is, gives a nod at the wire transfer confirmation on Shawn’s phone screen and lets him in.

The room is more standard glam-modern hotel vibes than the Chateau. It’s just a little cold, very clean, basic art, matching furniture. Shawn’s eyes skim over it, unfocused. They fix on the hardcased luggage sitting discreetly in the corner. His fingers twitch, imagining what’s inside it.

He sits on the end of the bed this time instead of in the lounge area where he felt a little more innocent and less like he was waiting for a prostitute to come nail him into a hole in the mattress.

Despite his eagerness for tonight and his relative comfort, having spent the night with her once before, Shawn feels some nerves creeping through his forced calm. He wonders for a moment if he won’t get used to it, waiting for her, never really forgetting the circumstances that brought them both here.

Not that he plans to continue seeing her for much longer. Just until the festivals start, maybe once or twice after when he’s back in LA getting papped with Bex at a Starbucks with his hand in her back pocket or something. His jaw tightens slightly, and then the door opens.

Penny is glowing in an emerald green cocktail dress that clings to her every curve and ends dangerously high on her sculpted, bronzed thighs. Her hair is sleek and straight, parted down the center and back over her shoulders. Her toes are painted to match her dress. Shawn shivers and wonders if she did it on purpose, if she’s been planning her outfit for him.

Shut up, his brain tells him, Why would she do that? She doesn’t need to impress you. You’re a sure thing.

The corner of his mouth lifts. He stands and smoothes his sweaty palms down the front of his inky black jeans. Gus shuts the door behind her. She smiles like she’s been waiting for this.

“Hey, you.”

Any remaining nerves vanish. Her voice is like heroin in his bloodstream. His eyes drift shut, his head falls back for a moment as he revels in her comfort.

“Hi, Penny.”

She steps forward in heeled black sandals with a jeweled brooch around each ankle strap. He takes his time looking her up and down, then feels a flash of guilt when his eyes settle on her pretty face.

She seems to know what’s on his mind. She stops before him and rests her hand on his cheek.

“It’s ok. You can look. Can even touch, if you’d like.”

The words have his fingers twitching hard where they rest at his sides. He swallows and proceeds with caution, keeping his eyes focused on hers, lined and smoky tonight, to watch her reaction.

He rests his hands on her bare upper arms, stroking her skin with his rough, calloused thumbs. Carefully, slowly, he drags them up over her narrow shoulders, brushing along the line of her collarbones, teasing the warm skin of her throat. His mouth waters. He curls his hands down over her shoulder blades, finding with a noticeable hitch in his breathing that the dress has a very low back. His fingers skate over naked skin, following the hollow of her back and stopping above the swell of her ass to fold around her hips, admiring the feel of the deep green silk.

He releases a ragged breath and closes his eyes. “I couldn’t wait. I n-needed to see you again this week before I go home for a while.”

When he opens his eyes, he sees her nodding gently, raising a hand to cup the back of his neck. She steps a little closer until they’re chest to chest, or as close as they can be considering the height difference.

“And how do you feel now that I’m here?”

Shawn smiles a little -- at her, at his own willingness to be totally honest with her. He wets his lips and says, “Like I’m amazed I waited a whole four days.”

Satisfied, Penny hums from the back of her throat and leads him down to kiss her. She starts slow, gentle against his mouth, brushing little soft kisses over his top and bottom lips like she’s memorizing the shape of them. Her free hand, by contrast, drags tight and hungry up his swollen bicep, squeezing as she goes, stopping to grip his shoulder.

He’s obedient for her despite his urge to take more than what she’s giving. He keeps his returning kisses as light as hers, but she’s holding him so tight he knows she can feel how hard he’s trying. It makes her smile and coo into his mouth. She pulls away slightly, massaging the back of his neck.

“You look beautiful,” he murmurs without taking his eyes off hers. She chuckles.

“Thank you, so do you.”

Shawn laughs and starts to duck his head. Penny’s hand holds him firm and guides his lips back to hers. These are real kisses now. He groans into her mouth, opens wider so she can tease his tongue the way she likes. His hands draw her hips in closer until they’re pressed against his. He starts to lead them toward the bed, but Penny stands firm.

“What do you want?” he pants softly, his forehead tilted against hers. He hears her lips pull into a smile.

“Your mouth.”

Shawn’s nervous system goes erratic. His eyes snap open, his hands sink harder into the fabric around her hips, he pants against her cheek.

“Really?”

If he had any self awareness right now, he’d flinch and squirm at the timid excitement in his voice. Good thing he’s too fucked for her to notice.

Penny gently detangles herself from his grasp and nods toward the bed. He sits on the end, legs spread, his elbows on his knees as he vibrates in place waiting for her. Now it’s Penny’s turn to look him over.

He looks less tired than he did when she met him. His eyes are a little brighter, his skin a little clearer, his shoulders a little further from his ears. She lets the power of it flood her system, feels that old animal that lives inside her stretch its legs and awaken for another night with him.

She did that. She gave him that. She took a man who needed her, who needed release and comfort and affection and she gave it to him tenfold. She took something a little broken and made it brand fucking new. And now she gets to let loose a little more, build upon the foundation she started.

He’s looking at her like he did last time, waiting to see her when she bares herself to him. She wets her lips, painted a light mauve color, and steps closer, heightening the tension.

“Are… uhm, are you gonna take your clothes off?” he asks hopefully.

Penny lifts a shoulder with a smirk. “No need.”

His face falls a little. She grins, or more just bares her teeth, and lifts a toned leg to press the sole of her shoe to his chest. Shawn inhales sharply and lets it nudge him back to lie against the bed, blinking up at the ceiling.

She watches his broad chest rise and fall, picking up speed as the anticipation builds. She gazes at him hungrily, at his large hands running up and down his thick thighs as he self-soothes. She can feel him trying not to lift his head to look at her. Her patience runs thin.

Penny lifts herself over him, one knee on either side of his torso, climbing on top of him carefully until she’s centered above his pretty face.

“Shit. You weren’t wearing panties this whole time?”

His voice is squeaky and breathless. Penny tips her head back and laughs, tugging her skirt up.

“They don’t really work with this dress,” she explains, reaching down to curl a lock of his hair around her finger.

He learned from their first night together not to touch her until she tells him to, so his arms rest limp by his sides, despite how badly he’d like to plant his hands on her hips and yank her warm cunt down to meet his mouth.

But that’s not what he’s here for. He’s not here to take, he’s here to let her give to him. He closes his eyes, recenters himself, and looks up again to see her watching him.

“Want to taste me, Shawn?”

He pauses. He nods. “Yes please.”

Penny slowly lowers her hips until she meets his face and the eager lips that are already pressing needy kisses against her folds. She hums and settles further, reaching for his arms to secure them around her as she starts to rock against him.

“I’m gonna ride your face. Just… just keep your mouth on me,” she instructs, her voice going soft and breathy as she starts to pick up speed.

Shawn is in fucking heaven.

His eyes are wide open, staring up at her as she takes what she needs from him, her clit bumping his nose with every tight stroke. His dick strains in his jeans, but neither of them seems to care. His hands fit into the dips at her waistline and hold her, supporting her as she rolls her hips.

Shawn likes oral, he always has. But this is beyond anything he’s ever experienced. He’s never had a woman use him for her pleasure like this before. He would’ve guessed it would feel odd, disconnected somehow, lacking. But with Penny, he swears he’d give her fucking anything.

Shawn groans, flattening his tongue for her to work against as she soaks his mouth and cheeks. The slick insides of her thighs make an incredible noise against his face as she moves faster and grinds harder. He can feel the tension in her legs and the erratic rise and fall of her chest. She’s getting closer. She’s going to come on his face.

Shawn moans, overwhelmed at the very idea. His toes curl in his boots. He blinks desperately up at her, watching as her tanned face flushes. Suddenly, without warning, her pretty brown eyes snap shut and she fists a hand into his curls, whining loud.

“Shawn! Oh… fuck,” she squeals, meeting her orgasm without slowing down. She continues riding him hard and he doesn’t back down either, massaging her waist and watching greedily as the motion slips her dress up her hips and shows him more of her pretty skin.

Finally, it abates and he’s left cleaning her up with his tongue, eyes fluttering drowsily, his breathing regulating in time with hers.

Penny releases his hair from her fingers and sighs, easing up on her knees. He holds her steady as her legs shake, looking pleased with himself.

Penny laughs, climbing down his stomach so she can lean in to kiss him, tasting herself on his tongue. He whimpers, cupping his hand beneath her hair, letting her explore his mouth as she pleases.

“You really liked that,” she breathes. It’s not a question -- she doesn’t even really need his confirmation. She can see it all over his face, could feel it in the way he stared up for her and let her have him.

He blushes and nods, smiling. “You… yeah. Fuck, yeah. You taste amazing.”

Penny’s heart clamors against her ribs like it wants to get a look at him. She runs her hands through her now sex-fucked hair and laughs.

“Good. I want another one.”

Shawn blinks and feels a moment of deja vu bring him back to their first night. “Yeah?”

Penny nods casually, unbuckling the straps of her shoes where her legs are folded beneath her. She kicks them away, dropping them off the side of the bed and reaching back for her zipper, fumbling with the awkward angle.

Shawn perks up. “Can I help with that?”

Penny kisses the tip of his nose. “Sweet. Yes, please.” 

Shawn focuses his gaze on a freckle on her collarbone while his fingers tug at her zipper. When he feels it meet resistance, he stops, looks to her for instruction, then continues undressing her when she raises her arms.

Naked on his lap, she plants her hands on his chest and admires the way his heart pulses frantically for her. She sucks his earlobe between her swollen lips and feels him sigh.

“Where do you want me, Pen?”

Penny’s lips twitch at the nickname and how quickly he’s caught on. She lifts a knee and drops onto the bed beside him with a soft thump, spreading her legs and cozying into the pillows like she owns the place. He chokes on a breath that comes up short in his chest.

“Get comfy. You’re going to be down there for a while. I want to come until I can’t anymore.”

Again, she has him floored. They experimented with his overstimulation before, and tonight she wants him to help her test her own limits. He swallows and nods eagerly.

“Yeah. Of-- of course. Yes. Do you want me to…?” He gestures down at himself, still fully clothed.

Penny, with her hair spread out around her head like a halo and a manicured fingernail between her teeth, shrugs. “Take off your jeans. I don’t want your pretty cock to suffocate.”

Shawn’s abdomen clenches and he covers the inhuman noise he makes with a weak chuckle. His “pretty cock” twitches hard, reacting to the compliment.

He ditches his boots, socks and jeans and nestles up on his stomach between her thighs, breathing softly.

“So fuckin’ pretty and wet,” he praises, shaking his head in disbelief. She smiles like she’s heard it before, and he’s sure she has. 

He turns his face into her inner thigh and sucks some soft, wet skin into his mouth, releasing a muffled groan as she inhales. Reluctantly, he releases her without leaving a mark, knowing he should ask permission before he tries to go that far. His eyes flicker to hers. They’re dark and unreadable, steady on him as she waits patiently. He figures she’s not in a rush. They have all night for him to make her come. His own needs are barely a blip on his radar. He’s focused on her, on her flushed pink folds, her clenching stomach, her full, touchable breasts.

She might need to beg him to leave her alone once she lets him loose. He’s not going to want to come up for air ever again.

Shawn takes a deep breath and dives in, humming as he sucks her inner labia into his mouth. Penny’s hips shift, her body melting into the bed gracefully as she relaxes. Shawn eyes her from over the soft curve of her stomach, easing up to swipe his tongue against her slowly and watch how she reacts to every little move he makes.

If she can study him, he can study her, too, learn exactly how she likes to be touched, to be tasted, to be fucked. He wants to know everything, wants to internalize it so he can attempt to bring her a fraction of the bliss she’s brought him. By the way her back arches slightly when he flicks at the hood of her clit, he’s making progress.

+

Shawn has officially lost count of her orgasms.

He’s past painfully hard and it’s becoming more and more apparent that he needs to come or he’s gonna, like, die, but he refuses to break and beg for it.

They’ve taken short breaks, but he hasn’t left her, receding only as far as her inner thighs that he sucks and lavishes with kisses while they talk quietly as she recovers. He tells her about his trip home next week, about having to get on the road for the festival tour soon after. He mumbles hopes and nerves and dreams and concerns as she runs her fingers through his hair and asks thoughtful questions even after four or five orgasms, so her brain is more mush than useful. But he shows no signs of wanting to go anywhere, especially now that he’s learned the tricks that get her loud and twitchy and coming hard on his needy tongue. So they lie there on the bed in the same position, right into the small hours of the morning.

Shawn hums gratefully as he sweeps up her next orgasm, relishing the shivers he feels as he holds the base of her ribcage. He grunts and noses at her neatly trimmed patch of pubic hair, sighing hot and loud against her folds.

“Yes?” she chuckles.

He shifts uncomfortably against the bed and lifts his gaze, looking like a guilty puppy.

“I’m… nothing. It’s ok.”

Penny comes up on shaky forearms and traces her soft toes up his back, snagging at the t-shirt he’s still wearing.

“You sure? You don’t need anything?” she whispers. His ears go red. She’s teasing him. He juts his chin out stubbornly and shakes his head, focuses instead on tonguing circles around her throbbing clit. He watches in satisfaction as her abdomen tenses and she releases an involuntary grunt of approval as her body beckons to him.

“You’ve been hard for a couple hours. Keep grinding your hips against the bed. Wouldn’t you rather me help you come?”

Shawn’s eyes fix on hers tentatively. He’s not sure how she wants him to proceed. He wasn’t going to ask, he really wasn’t. But at the idea that he might get to come soon, his cock pulses in his boxers, still leaking in the same spot.

“Only… if you want me to.”

Penny beams down at him in a way that has him hiding his face in her slick inner thigh. She strokes his curls, encouraging him to look at her.

“I want you to ask me nicely.”

Shawn heaves a sigh. He noses curiously at her clit, presses a little kiss to her folds.

“May I please come now?”

His voice is soft and quiet. He’s not used to begging.

Not yet, anyway.

Penny keeps her fingers moving through his hair, waiting for more.

“Say it again, Shawn.”

“I… please, Penny. I’ve been so good. Please let me come for you?”

She blinks slowly, lazily, drugged by the power he so freely drops into her hands. At her reaction, he swallows and continues.

“Please,” he hisses, pressing more needy kisses to anywhere he can reach, “Penny, I’ll come so good for you. I’m so fucking hard. Just want to come once and then I’ll keep eating your fucking perfect pussy. Please, Penny, I want to come.”

The corners of her mouth lift in a dangerous grin. She bobs her head, pushing at his hair so he’ll ease back from between her legs. 

“Take your shirt off.”

Shawn sits up and yanks at the collar, throwing it over his head. His chest is pink, heavily flushed from their hours of fucking. Her eyes scrape over his every curve and angle, and she’d be lying to herself if she thought it wasn’t mostly to keep him waiting for her. She pulls her legs together, rubbing her wet thighs as she considers him.

“Boxers, too.”

Shawn stands for expediency’s sake and drops them without ceremony, kicking them off his ankles. His hands curl into fists to keep himself from grabbing at his swollen pink cock.

Penny licks her lips obscenely. She eyes him, head cocked, and crooks her finger. He climbs back onto the bed.

“Come here,” she whispers, flattening her legs and waving him forward.

Unsure of what she wants, unable to do anything but follow her lead, Shawn kneewalks on either side of her until he straddles her torso, positioned over her chest.

Penny smirks as she looks him over, lets her hands wander over his tensed thighs, his rippling stomach, his slim hips and tight little ass. Shawn’s toes curl. His hands stay at his sides.

“Wanna watch you touch yourself. Wanna feel you come on my tits, would you like that?”

He chokes on air. Would he like that? Jesus Christ.

He nods frantically, curling a fist around his cock. His whole body shakes with a relieved sigh. As her small hands smooth up and down his quads, he pumps in and out of his fist, scrunching his face at the filthy sound of it.

“Oh, fuck,” he swears, shaking his head, “Fuck, I love being good for you.”

When he can manage to open his eyes, Penny is staring up at him in wonder, looking between his face and his thrusting hips. She bites down on her lower lip.

“Good. God, you’re so fucking hot, so hard for me.”

Shawn hangs his head, groaning loud and unabashed as his orgasm starts to coil hot in his lower abdomen.

“Penny… gonna come. Gonna come on your pretty tits.”

Penny wets her lips and tries not to look like she’s aching for it. She closes her eyes briefly, brushes her hands up around his hips to grip the cheeks of his ass.

Her eyes open.

“Shawn, are you my good boy?”

She brings a hand down hard on his right cheek, the resounding smack of skin on skin propelling him forward through the wall of his orgasm.

He screams, breathing into a growl of her name, spurting hard onto her chest. His hips snap desperately, his hand pumps his cock through one of the strongest orgasms he’s ever had. His head falls forward to rest against the cushioned headboard, looking down at her as he remembers how to breathe again.

“Guess you are my good boy, then,” she preens, skimming her hands over his body again as he sits back on his heels.

“Holy… shit.”

“Feel good, Shawn?”

He blinks blearily and manages to nod. With a huff, he lifts himself onto newborn horse legs and stumbles to the bathroom for a wet washcloth. Without her even asking, he carefully sweeps the cloth over her chest, cleaning his orgasm off her perfect breasts. He tosses the cloth aside and gazes down at her. She smiles. He sighs.

“You’re… exactly who I need right now.”

They’re Penny’s favorite words to hear from a client. They represent absolute success. They make her proud, despite the prejudices and misconceptions surrounding her job. The look on his face right now is the reason she is here. Her heart gives an extra squeeze. She reaches for him, folds him down beside her and guides his head onto her chest. Without another word, they fall asleep.

--------

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