#this is actually a little statue that I have

[sswed]

dammed if i do, dammed if i dont

lucy bronze x swimmer!reader

A/N: pure unadulterated smut, thus minors DNI, thanks

You pull at the collar of your turtleneck. You don't know how your stylist convinced you to wear this but it's a little late to take it off now. So now you're sweating to death in a hall filled with other so-called 'nike' athletes.

You don't really want to be here, drinking sparkling water in a champagne flute rather than alcohol and looking at the little cakes instead of eating them because you're in season .

It's all far too boring for you to be here, something about bringing female athletes together and nike being at the centre of it all.

It sounds like a bunch of crap to you and it probably is but your agent says that nike pays half your paycheck. So, you rather remain in their good books for an extended period of time than be dropped. Swimming doesn't pay much, unfortunately but sponsors do.

You pull at your collar again. Not only is it hot but itchy as well. You glance down at your empty glass, you're not even that thirsty but you'd rather have something than nothing. You scan the room for a waiter, ignoring all the swanky décor, when someone catches your eye.

She's got the most daring dress on, sleeveless, tight and black with a slit right down the left side. Suddenly, you feel extremely thirsty. She's drop dead gorgeous and her arms are to die for, the perfect ratio of muscle.

She's something out of a wet dream and she's standing in the same room as you.

You don't think you've seen someone more attractive in your life. She's got lovely hair, dark and tied up. You want to undo it, let it run down her shoulders.

God, you want her more than anything else. You'd drop to your knees for her and you don't even know her. She's like a cardinal sin and you're very ready to commit.

Lucy shifts on her feet uncomfortably. She doesn't know why today of all days, she's picked to wear heels for once. What she does know is that she deeply regrets it.

She's already got blisters on her feet and it doesn't help that she's been standing around for the past hour talking to people who are far too uninteresting. She wishes that anyone she knew was here but it's just her luck that the only person who actually bothered to attend this, happens to be her.

Lucy sighs deeply and looks around the room. She doesn't know most of these people. There are only a few footballers from teams she vaguely remembers playing against and the rest of the faces are foreign.

Then her eyes fall on you.

You're perfect, or so she thinks. Tall and dressed in a dark suit with long hair around your shoulders. You've got a grimace on your face that Lucy can appreciate, she too finds this event a little pointless.

Yet the expression doesn't take away from the fact that you're built like a statue. Even under the various articles of clothing, Lucy can tell that you've got lean muscle hiding there. Your back is wide and clearly contoured into the suit, she wonders what it would be like to run her nails down it.

She was bored a second ago but now? Now, she's a woman on a mission.

You go to the drinks table soon after looking at Lucy. She's got you thirsty and a little needy, so you decide that a few sparkling waters will take off the edge. Instead you're met with her.

Lucy's standing right next to you and you've barely even noticed. You bite the inside of your cheek to stop you from saying something stupid. This could be your chance and you really don't want to fuck it up.

"Err... Have we met before?" You ask with a slight smile.

You kick yourself mentally. She's probably going to think you're a weirdo, asking her if you've met when you clearly haven't.

Lucy blinks a few times before matching your smile, "I don't think so."

"Awe, must have been in my dreams then," You smirk and Lucy laughs loudly for a moment.

It's a horrible line that you picked up from a television show but it seems to work anyway because Lucy's laughing now and so are you.

"You're dreaming about me?" Lucy's face dons a smirk of her own and your heart races at the sight.

"Maybe," You tease and shuffle a little closer to her.

God, she looks even better up close. She's got a strong jawline that begs to be grabbed and those eyes. You don't think you've seen greener eyes in person, they're like forests in the form of irises.

"Maybe?" Lucy raises a brow and laughs.

"I don't think it's a maybe." Lucy questions and she'd be correct. You're actually certain she's out of a dream.

You chuckle lowly and it's like music to Lucy's ears. You've got the hottest voice she's ever heard. The perfect mix of hoarse with a slight rasp and your accent, Aussie if she's correct which she is, adds to the whole tone.

"Oh no, you've caught me," You murmur close to her and Lucy feels goosebumps rise on her arms.

"Have I, now?" Lucy leans closer until her breath is practically ghosting over the shell of your ear.

You resist the urge to grab her right then and there. You wonder if you're drunk, this sudden confidence alarmingly new but you're not. Not on alcohol at least. You feel giddy like you've found someone to match you in this boring place and now everything seems so much lighter than before.

"I've got another one," You grin and wait a moment until Lucy is looking at you expectedly.

You drop your smile for dramatic effect, "I'm not a photographer, but I can picture us together."

Lucy's hand falls on your forearm as she laughs again and you don't think anything has felt better. Her touch is light but you can feel it through the material of your suit and turtleneck. You want her to touch you everywhere with those hands.

"That does ever actually work?" Lucy raises a brow in question and you chuckle.

"I dunno, did it work on you?" You raise your own eyebrows in a challenge.

Lucy smiles then with a sly expression, "I don't know, maybe?"

You lean in close until you get your mouth against her ear and you can feel her hand ride up your arm. She's everything you need right now.

"I think it did."

You're correct, it did work, somehow because the next second you're outside against a wall on a balcony without anyone else near you. Lucy's got her leg between your legs and you do desperately want to grind down against it but instead you're focused on kissing her. She tastes like wine, sweet and you can't get enough.

You let your tongue trace the inside of her mouth, feeling each tooth. You've got your hands on her waist and she's holding onto your back, her fingers digging into the fabric of your blazer. Lucy's got you feeling hotter than ever. You're on fire, veins pumping blood around faster than in any race and every touch of her lips against yours feel like a burn.

You don't care that you're boiling to death or that you're in the middle of a public place where, in theory, anyone could come and find you. You want to give Lucy what you've been thinking about since you spotted her.

You pull away and take shallow breaths that match Lucy's own. You're gasping for air and it's never felt so good before.

You flip the two of you around quickly, in a split second, you've got Lucy's back against the wall and she's got wide eyes while you're smiling wolfishly.

"You always get your way don't you?" You ask, even though you can already guess the answer.

Lucy seems like the kind of person that loves to be in charge and you'd love to break that down, at least for the moment.

Lucy scoffs, "No."

You smirk, "So, you'll listen to me?"

You seem to catch Lucy out with that one. Her eyes widen slightly and that solidifies it to you. She's always been in charge but now you're here to change that.

You don't let her answer that, instead you press your lips to her in a hard kiss. It's bruising, hard to the touch and you can feel her teeth pull at your bottom lip.

When you pull back, you make a show of yourself. You kneel in front of her slowly with exaggerated movements until your knees are on the stone ground. It's cold, you can feel it through the wool of your trousers but you don't care.

Instead you place your hands on Lucy's thighs.

"What are you doing? Someone is going to see," Lucy hisses from above you and you look up at her with hooded eyes.

You've taken that into account and decided that it would just make things even more interesting.

"Well then keep quiet, Luce." You husk out.

You then pull her dress up until you're half under it, only the darling slit showing half your face. Lucy takes a sharp breath in, you're so close to her now and she needs you badly. Beyond anything else right now, she needs you.

You press an open mouthed kiss to her underwear and feel how wet she is. Lucy's soaked, practically dripping and you can feel it as you press another kiss to the fabric.

Lucy presses her hand against her mouth, trying to stifle any kind of noise from coming out. If someone were to find you, you'd be kicked out and this... meeting... would be made public knowledge.

Neither of you feel like being part of a scandal so she keeps quiet or tries to.

You decide that you've done enough teasing after a while and hook a hand under the waistband and tug her underwear down. Then allow her to step out of them. You grin, the cotton is soaked through and you pocket them without another thought.

Lucy watches you do it. They hang out your back pocket like a flag and she resists the urge to groan.

You lick your lips and kiss up one of her strong thighs. In your wake you leave small bites and long licks that leave Lucy breathless above you.

Then you get to her pussy, it's soaking wet from what you can see in the darkness and you grin. You've waited for this moment and now you've got it, you plan on using it wisely.

You let yourself take a long lick down her cunt first. She's silky on your tongue and you can't help but love the taste of her. Lucy's hand's fly to your head and you gasp against her at the sudden pressure.

This is a dangerous game that you're both playing. Anyone could come outside, on this very balcony and see. You decide to take a gamble and continue anyway.

"Fuck," Lucy gasps above you when you circle her clit with your tongue.

You smile. She's so reactive, it's perfect. Every little touch of your tongue results in her fingers digging further into your skull. Then suddenly, Lucy throws a leg over your shoulder, giving her just the right amount of leverage.

You smirk and pull away for a moment. You look up and meet her eyes, they're hooded with lust and you feel yourself melt at the sight.

"You gonna use me, Lucy?" You tease, it's daring and you hope Lucy falls for it.

"Shut up," Lucy mutters then presses a hand to the back of your head, urging you back.

You go willingly, circling her clit just like you had been doing. Your mouth is wet and you're not sure if it's your saliva or Lucy's wetness, you hope it's the latter.

Lucy does well with her promise. She grinds her hips forwards, right to your face and you stilt your movements, letting her take charge for a moment.

She's got a hold on your hair, pulling it back and forth with each roll of the hips and it's got you gasping for breath. God, she's so good, tastes fantastic and you'd stay on your knees forever if it meant that you could have her.

"You're so good," You hear Lucy murmur above you in a half moan.

The praise goes straight to your core, igniting a flame there. You let yourself flatten your tongue against her and you hear the soft mewl above you.

"Shit, how are you so good at this?" Lucy groans out as she snaps her hips forwards.

Your hands fly to her hips then and you encourage her movements. Letting your hands guide the rolling of her hips with a firm touch and that has her quietly moaning above you.

You know Lucy's close, you can tell by the way her grip tightens on your hair. She's pulling it in all sorts of directions but you don't want this to end so soon. So you slow down her movements with a firm hand.

"What are you doing?" Lucy groans above you and tries to snap her hips forwards but you've got a hard grip on them.

You pull away and Lucy frowns at the lost contact. You look over her face for a brief moment, her face is a little flushed and her lips are parted slightly. She had clearly been close.

"Taking my time, Lucia," You smirk.

This time when you duck your head to go back, you don't swirl your tongue around her nor do you let yourself lap over her whole cunt. You kiss your way around her pussy teasingly and Lucy tenses with every touch.

"Stop teasing," Lucy pulls you head back.

You look at her with a grin, wetness clear around your mouth. You look like a mess, hair spiking up from the tugging, eyes wide with lust and tongue out.

"Can't you wait?" You ask with an eye roll.

Lucy responds with a half whine and you decide to give her what she wants. You go back to her pussy with a wolfish grin and immediately dive back in.

You swirl your tongue around her clit as she moans quietly above you. You feel the light rolls of her hips in your hands as she gets closer and you smile against her.

"Close," Lucy groans and her hold on your hair tightens again.

This time you don't pull away, instead you speed up your efforts. You lap over her quickly and let her thrust her hips without restraint. Now, she's practically grinding on your face and you're happily letting her.

Then, suddenly, her hips stutter and she gasps loudly before slapping a hand over her mouth. You can feel the leg on your shoulder tighten around you and you grin.

"Fuck..." Lucy moans without restraint and you pull back to look at her.

She's got her mouth open, gasping for breath, face flushed with heat. You think she looks divine like that, back against a stone wall with you between her legs. Like a goddess of some sort.

You shuffle out from between her legs and stand, you're slightly taller than Lucy but that doesn't stop you from pressing yourself against her as you kiss her again. She can taste herself on your tongue along with the glass of wine she drank earlier.

You have your hands on her waist and hers go to your neck. The kiss is soft, a warm embrace after the main event and you take your time savouring it. Letting your hands explore Lucy's wide back and curve.

You pull away after a while, to take your breath and Lucy does the same. You lean forwards and rest your head against her shoulder, one of her hands comes to card through your hair gently.

"Can I see you again?" You whisper into her bare shoulder and you can feel Lucy chuckle.

"Yeah, you can," Lucy murmurs and you can't help but smile.

Turns out boring events for nike can lead to fun activities and new relationships.

[berilaksl]

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

notes ! sirius black x f!reader, fluffy and might be slightly witty

warnings ! none yet whipped sirius I guess?? fluff slightly suggestive

The Hogwarts library was unusually quiet for a Wednesday afternoon, though the distant tapping of enchanted quills and the occasional sneeze from the dust-riddled stacks kept it from being entirely silent. The smell of parchment and ancient ink mingled in the air like perfume—comforting to some, suffocating to others.

You sat cross-legged at your usual corner table, the one tucked beneath the arching stained-glass window overlooking the Black Lake. Your fingers delicately flipped a page of “Runes of the North: Decoding Pre-Wand Magic”, your brow furrowed in concentration. A soft hum of your favorite self-soothing melody left your lips. Your eyes danced across the worn text with intense focus, every now and then mouthing a translation to yourself

So, of course, this was exactly when he decided to strike.

“So this is where the cleverest student in the castle hides…”

You sighed. Not again.

“Hello, Black,” you replied, not looking up. “If I stay very still, maybe you’ll think I’m a statue and leave.”

Sirius let out a bark of laughter — low and amused — and walked around the table to sit across from you, sliding into the chair like he belonged there.

“Tempting, but I’m far too enchanted. I’d probably end up serenading the statue.”

“Do it and I’ll Petrify you for real.”

“Kinky.”

You gave him a flat look, lifting your eyes just long enough to scowl. He gave you a grin that could melt chocolate frogs.

“You’ve really got to stop chasing me around the castle like this,” you said, calmly returning to your runes textbook. “It’s starting to look desperate.”

“Says the girl who hasn’t accepted a single one of my five — no, wait — six date proposals.”

“Exactly. You’d think you’d take the hint.”

“And miss out on the slow burn enemies-to-lovers arc we’ve got going on?” he quipped, leaning back in the chair and watching you with open amusement. “It’s practically Hogwarts folklore now.”

You blinked slowly. “We’re not enemies.”

“And yet you stab me with words like that.”

“Sirius.”

“Yes, love?”

You pointed your quill at him, exasperated and flustered. “Stop calling me that.”

“Make me.”

You gave him a long stare, then slowly turned back to your notes. “You’re unbearable.”

“And yet,” he said, voice dropping just a little as he rested his chin on his folded arms, “you never hex me. Which tells me you’re at least slightly fond of me.”

“No, it tells you I have self-control.”

Sirius chuckled. The warmth of it settled somewhere beneath your ribs, annoying and persistent.

For a while, he was quiet. Just… sitting there. Not fidgeting, not whistling, not pushing further. Just watching your quill glide across the page, occasionally glancing at your brows when they furrowed in thought.

And that — the silence — was somehow worse.

You looked up suspiciously.

“Are you actually being quiet right now?”

“I’m behaving,” he said, straight-faced. “Remus told me to try it. Said it might make me more appealing.”

You snorted despite yourself.

“He also said,” Sirius added with a mock-thoughtful tone, “that my charm was wasted on someone who values peace, intellect, and academic rigor above all else.”

“Sounds like he knows me better than you do.”

“Unlikely.” He tilted his head. “I know, for instance, that you bite your lip when you’re trying to remember a translation. That you tap your quill three times before committing anything to ink. And that you smell like old parchment and something floral — lavender, maybe?”

You blinked. For a moment, your heart jumped.

Then:

“So you’re stalking me now?”

“Only academically.” He smirked. “Ravenclaw curiosity. I’ve caught it.”

You tried — really tried — not to laugh. But the twitch at the corner of your mouth betrayed you.

And he saw it. He always saw it.

“There it is,” he said, sitting up straight like he’d just won a prize. “The smile. My favorite subject.”

You exhaled, setting your quill down. “Sirius, for the last time—”

“You’re not going to date me. Yes, I know.”

He stood then, brushing invisible lint from his sleeves with a dramatic sigh.

“But I reserve the right to be hopelessly enchanted and incredibly annoying about it.”

Before he turned to go, he added, without looking back:

“See you tomorrow, same table. I’ll bring you tea this time.”

You blinked after him, stunned by the combination of chaos and charm he always left in his wake. Your friends often teased that you were unshakeable — that you could hold your ground against even a Veela’s pull.

But Sirius Black?

He was going to be trouble.

Big, grey-eyed, endlessly smiling trouble.

[endlessapples]

When the Dawn Hesitates, the Light Trembles | Oneshot

shen xinghui | xavier x reader

synopsis:

Despite growing up as close companions from childhood, you've always been attuned to the difference in status that separates you and the prince. And yet, as rational as your mind is, your heart on the other hand is an unruly beast that you cannot fully control. With his wedding and departure to a foreign kingdom looming on the horizon, the question still remains on how you'll let go of your feelings and live in a future without him. And if he's willing to do the same.

tags: childhoodfriends!au, royalty!au, mild? angst with a fluffy ending (this is probs the fluffiest/non-dark themes this blog will ever see), unrequited love that's actually requited, prince!xavier x knight!reader

word count: 6.5k

a/n: thank you everyone for the support for the first chapter of my caleb fic! here's a oneshot that was actually written for my friend's bday as evidence that I also write for the other LIs hehe and a throwback to my days writing royalty!aus on tumblr! :> as always, please feel free to send in asks/request!!

You had encountered the prince for the first time as a little girl. He was quiet with the maturity of an adult, despite only being a year older than you. Your mama was his wet nurse. It was only natural for her to introduce you to him.

You remember that your first thought was that he was beautiful—the light of the early spring sun had casted his hair silver, and his eyes were the shade of blue you had heard about only in the fairytales your mama had whispered to you before you fell asleep. He looked exactly like the young prince in the one book your older sister had pointed out when you had passed the bookstore in the square.

You remember pointing at his hair and shouting, “Look, his hair glows like light!”

His gaze, which had looked uninterested, suddenly turned to look at you. Those blue eyes came to life then, and something had shown in them that you, back then, had viewed as mockery rather than amusement. “Is it always your first instinct for you to comment on others’ appearances?”

With a burning heat to your face, you had realized that he was teasing you. You had glowered at him then, and in a fit of childish immaturity, you grabbed a fistful of dirt from the ground and flung it straight onto him. Not your best moment.

Now, many years later, you don’t really remember how your mama spanked your butt red that night and how you had sobbed and said you’d never do it again and how she had forced you to kneel and apologize to the prince and then reverently express gratitude when he had just shrugged it off, when really he had the right to kill of your entire family.

But you do remember how his skin had turned red in his fluster, how his hair still glowed despite the dirt, and how his lips had twitched in agitation. You remember how his eyes had still dazzled you then—emotion, even if it was surprise, had made them a startling azure. These were all things you would always remember, for however long time would pass.

You wouldn’t ever dare say any of these words aloud to anyone. No, these were memories that only you were the keeper of, that you were certain of.

🌙✨

“Haven’t you heard? The King has sent out a declaration that Prince Xavier is getting married!” a maid clamored, as she rushed down the hallway with her friend.

“To who?” her friend gasped.

“To the princess of the neighboring Lucis Kingdom. Oh, I heard she’s a beauty! A perfect match for our prince! He deserves it, after he won over those hordes of wanderers at our border and made a glorious return!”

Her friend tittered in response. “My, perfect might be too strong a word! I bet even a fair princess would have difficulty trying to enthrall our unfeeling prince! I doubt he knows anything beyond the sword.”

She was the first to turn the corner of a hallway, when she collided into a force. “I���m so sorry—,” she was in the middle of her words when she looked up. Her mouth fell open, and her face flushed a bright red.

You had the unfortunate pleasure of being the wall that the maid had bumped into. And, as she probed your face to determine whether you had heard what she had just said (which you had), you opened up your mouth and slowly spoke, “I would be cautious of the words we say aloud in the palace, just as much as we are to be careful while turning the corners.”

The maid looked like she was cowering. But really, you thought, for what reason?

Yes, it was true that you were infamous in the palace for your quickness to anger, especially when it came to the prince. When the royal seamstress had said that Prince Xavier looked less flattering in red, you had threatened to use the blunt edge of your sword and destroy her supplies. But in all honesty, with how calm you had sounded, there really was no reason for her to be looking at you like you were some smoke-breathing dragon.

The maid quickly bobbed her head up and down in agreement. And then her gaze fell to the person behind you, and her face paled white like a sheet. “G-greetings, Y-Your Highness!” she jolted straight up before quickly falling into a bow, and her friend quickly followed her.

You peered around your shoulder, and when you saw a familiar presence lurking behind you, your mouth flattened into a straight line. “Your Highness,” you said flatly, bowing your head down.

He held your gaze, firmly. Your mouth felt dry all of a sudden, and you felt your face redden. This damn temper of yours! And he overheard it all!

But the two of you grew up together. He must’ve been used to your bouts of anger, even now. You don’t even know why you felt heat crawling up your neck. You turned your head away in indignation.

His eyes travelled beyond you to the two maids, and he nodded once. “You may go.” His tone was disinterested, and the maids hastily bowed again before scurrying away past him.

When they left, it was just the two of you left in the hallway. It was tense, and you felt yourself ready to run away, right behind the maids. You tipped your head and was about to turn away when-.

“I didn’t know you still defended me.” His voice was softer this time, unlike the more frigid tone he had used with the maids. “Are we still friends then, I presume?”

Your lips pursed. Memories of last night flooded through your head. You downing the pint of ale. You furiously pointing a finger at him and shouting at him how he could have been so foolish to have thrown himself at you to push you out of the way during battle and get hurt by the sword of the wanderer when it should have been you protecting him and not the other way around. Him yelling back at you—though, what he said and what happened after, your mind could barely remember over the jumble of your brain buzzing with alcohol and anger. You just remember waking up the next day, head pounding and vowing to never drink again.

And here he went again, with that cursed word. Friends. How could you ever be friends? He was a prince, and you were just some lowly ranked girl whose only luck was that her mother had raised him at her bosom. Other than that, you were nothing. You had only your knight title. Nothing like the precious princess of a wealthy kingdom.

You were about to bite out a vicious comment that reflected something along those lines, but something stopped you from spewing out the first vowel.

He would be leaving soon after his wedding. He didn’t have to stay in this kingdom, not when his older brother was already set to sit on the throne. And you wouldn’t follow, not when it would tear you apart to see them together, to keep seeking above your station when you knew it was unfeasible. So friend, that horrible ill-fitting term, you would hold onto until you couldn’t. You felt yourself wilt in response, and you were certain he had picked up that something was odd about you today.

So you sucked in a deep breath and nodded. “Friends, if you can say that, Your Highness.”

The corners of his lips tugged up in amusement. “So you’ll stop calling me Your Highness then? You know my name. Use it.”

Your mouth was dry all over again, and you felt like you were going to heave all over the floor. It must’ve been the leftover ale brewing in your stomach. It must’ve.

You forced a smile. It probably looked menacing. “People will overhear, and it’s not good for someone like me to be calling you by your name when you’ll be mar-.”

His gaze remained steady.

You swallowed. Fuck.

“Is it an order?” you murmured. Your rude tone, if the head palace maid had heard you, would have sent you straight to a flogging. But Prince Xavier, aside from when you had thrown dirt on his head as a little girl and...and last night, was magnanimous. Nothing could unsettle him, well...maybe except for you.

You did remember that time one of the other knights-in-trainings had been spewing insults about your background and yes, you maybe thought then about swinging your sword down on him (blunt or non-blunt side unconfirmed) but you wouldn’t have done it, not when it would have put your own position as a trainee at risk and left you unable to stay by Xavier’s side.

Xavier had been different though. He had challenged that knight-in-training in a duel during practice and left him black-and-blue. And then that trainee had somehow been removed from the ranks and ended up leaving back to his hometown.

But maybe that was all just wishful thinking on your part.

Hearing no response, your eyes shifted back to him briefly. He just stood there, looking almost pitiful. And it seemed like he had turned slightly so that the bandaged part of his arm was even more obvious to you. A prince? Pitiful? You could guffaw in amusement.

You let out a long sigh.

“Xavier,” your voice was barely above a hush.

He gave you one of those rare smiles of his, the kind that had you breathless as a little girl and breathless even now. On days when he did smile at you, you could never fall asleep. Whenever you closed your eyes, you would see his smile and the way his blue eyes had shone. Oh, tonight would be no different.

You needed fresh air.

You swiftly turned on your heel and headed out towards the pathway to the gardens. His footsteps sounded after you, even as you quickened your pace. But let him follow you—it wasn’t any of your business what he was up to in his free time. And honestly, you didn’t even have a destination in mind.

As the sun warmed up your skin and the smell of flowers sweetened the air, you felt yourself reminiscing. These days would be long gone soon. It was already against propriety for the two of you to still be this close, especially after both of you had come of age. Maybe, maybe it would be good for you to leave all of this behind when Xavier left. So that you didn’t spend the rest of your days an old bitter hag surrounded by reminders of the past.

You were lost in your thoughts as you ambled your way. You were about to take a step forward when you felt a tug at your sleeve, and suddenly, you were falling back. Your back hit a firm chest, and you winced at the collision.

“Ow! What’d you do that for?” you grumbled. You turned your head back, about to bite out another complaint, but your mouth hinged open when you realized that your face was much tooclose to his. You could see the flecks of light blue in his eyes, the way his light-colored eyelashes were trembling, and the slight reddening tint to his skin. He was somehow warmer than the spring air, his body heat seeping against your back. And he smelled like soap and something deeper that you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

You turned and pushed him away by the chest, stumbling back and crashing right into the trunk of a tree.

As you swore under your breath, you heard the sound of laughter. You looked over, irritated. He had his finger raised, pointing right behind you. His other hand attempted to cover his face but you could catch a glimpse of his smile.

“You were about to bump into a tree. I was trying to,” he huffed in a shaky breath, “to stop you from falling.”

Your mouth opened in protest, and you swiftly clamped it shut. Some knight you were. You could take down wanderers of any size and difficulty, but a mere tree was apparently your biggest opponent.

And suddenly you were laughing now too. All the anger, resentment, and bitterness from earlier seemed to fade away. You didn’t think of the past. You didn’t think of the future, of him wedding a beautiful princess and raising heirs with his silver hair and her colored eyes, of you never seeing him again for the rest of your lifetimes. All you thought that it felt good to be standing here with him.

🌙✨

The queen was a beautiful woman. With her long silver hair coiled up in an intricate hairdo and her silver eyes, she looked like a celestial beauty that had fallen onto earth in a gown of deep blue. You could see that Xavier had gotten his looks from her. But while Xavier had the mild temperament of the King underneath his seemingly cold exterior, the Queen was all fire and ice.

“Your Majesty,” you kneeled down onto a knee in a deep bow. She was silent for a long time, taking a long sip of tea from her cup. It was one of the petty tricks that she often played when she was displeased. But you were a knight—what was kneeling on a plush carpet for a little bit compared to sleeping on the cold ground of a forest, unable to rest properly in case a wanderer appeared?

After a seemingly endless time passed, you heard her set down her cup. Her voice tinkled out like bells. “Rise, Dame.”

You rose to your feet. You kept your head bowed.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten a good look at you,” she spoke, “Raise your head.”

You tilted your head up but kept your gaze lowered. She hummed out. You could hear the bracelets that adorned her wrists clinking together as she tapped a finger thoughtfully onto her bottom lip.

“You’ve become more beautiful these years. One wouldn’t expect you to be born from a mere commoner. Even unwomanly duties such as knighthood have not tarnished you.”

“This lowly servant is not worthy of Your Majesty’s praise,” you spoke, as you lowered your head again. You felt unsettled. Compliments from the Queen always had another purpose.

“Hush, child. I can see why even my son has softened towards you.” She hummed, her voice light and airy. “You see, when I married His Majesty, I was a year younger than you are now. I had lived as the princess of a small kingdom, so when his proposal came, there was no choice for me other than to agree. But I tried anyways.”

You remained silent.

“You see, the foolish me of my youth had loved a knight then and wanted to elope with him.” She laughed. “But when I tried to run away with him, my father caught me and had the knight stripped of his titles, tortured, and banished. All those years he had spent in service of our kingdom, and look what he threw away for a fleeting passion.” You felt her gaze fall back onto you. It felt sharp, like a blade.

“You understand my meaning, don’t you? Xavier is set to wed a princess. A political alliance with the Lucis Kingdom will be beneficial for everyone’s sake. A commoner like you.” She paused to laugh again. “Well, I am pleased that you have been able to make a knight of yourself. But make no mistake, that’s as high as you can climb up.”

She gestured a hand out, and you saw a wooden chest enter your periphery. “This is more than enough money to support you and any other ambitions you may have. You’d never have the opportunity to get your lowly hands on this much money. Take this money, and leave. Leave the palace as soon as you can, before the end of this season, so that Xavier does not hesitate in his upcoming nuptials with Lucis’s Princess.”

You raised your head to make direct eye contact with her then. Your eyes were fierce as you sternly shook your head. “Your Majesty, this lowly servant is well aware of her own station and does not dare to go beyond it. This lowly servant is not worthy of your noble gift, for her lowly hands would tarnish its value.” You dipped into a bow again before swiftly turning on your heel and marching out of the room.

You heard the crash of her cup hitting the wall from behind you, but you kept marching forward. Though you felt pity for the maids who would have to deal with her wrath, you knew that it would not have done you any good to have accepted her money.

You had been truthful with the Queen. You did know your station, and you also knew that you would never be able to go beyond it.

Your decision had been made long before you stepped into the room. In fact, it had been made even before you had heard news of Xavier’s nuptials.

It was final then. You would leave on your own terms, using your own money.

🌙✨

You knew you couldn’t stay in the capital. Linkon was a place full of reminders. If you peeked close enough, you could see the alleyways where you and Xavier had snuck bags of toasted walnuts when he was still young and still looked sweet enough to hide his stubbornness—though now, this sweetness had melted into a mildness that still hid his stubbornness well. You could remember the place Xavier had gifted you a small flower pin from the day you were admitted to knight training. And you could remember on one of those excursions where your cape had gone loose and he had reached out to tie it—the brush of his fingers against your lapel and the way your head had swelled up in a rush of blood...How could you stay in a place with all these reminders?

Sure, your family would miss you a little, but after your parents passed away and your siblings grew up, they were more worried about making a living and taking care of their own families. And besides, you could always visit them some time in the distant future.

No, you wanted to go somewhere peaceful and isolated, where nothing from the past could affect you.

As Linkon prepared to send its prince off to a wedding, you spent your time preparing for your own plans. When you weren’t training or taking on missions to take down wanderers, you found yourself perusing over a map that you had bought off a passing merchant.

The nearby city was too close, barely a day’s ride away by horse.

The region to the East looked good on paper, but you knew the noble families that had their territories there had close ties with the Queen. It wouldn’t be good for you to stay in a place where it would be easy for her to keep tabs on you. After all, you wanted to leave for the sake of your own freedom away from any royal’s influence.

Your pointer finger skimmed towards a small town to the West. It was about a week’s ride from the capital, 6 days if you pushed your horse, and near the border, so it was often experiencing unrest from stray wanderers. You could keep making some money there by going on small missions. And with the wages you had saved up and the money you could get from pawning off the uselessly luxurious gifts Xavier had given you over the years, even when you were old and unable to make money off of fighting wanderers, you could still live quite comfortably.

When you made your final decision, you quickly sprung into action. But when you asked Xavier for some time off, he had peered over his documents and looked at you skeptically. You could see why he saw it odd—you hadn’t taken a day off the moment you had entered knight’s training. But with the issue at the border contained, you were able to convince him that it was for the sake of spending some time traveling to get your head back on right. With reluctance, he stamped his seal of approval on your request.

You set off the following day. You didn’t need to prepare much—just enough money for food and your lodgings. But you felt odd as you went from city to city and then eventually from city to town.

It felt like someone was tailing you. The feeling started the moment you had left the gates of the capital, and even when you were deep into the crowds of an inn, you still felt a gaze on you. But whenever you looked, you would see the faint white of a cloak before it vanished.

It must’ve been one of the Queen’s people. So when you were about to reach your next town, only a day’s travel away from your intended destination, you decided to veer off course. Instead of going straight through the main road, you sharply turned off into the woods and urged your horse deep into the undergrowth. You then quickly dismounted and let your horse stray.

By the time the person following you entered the woods and saw your horse by itself, it was too late. You swung them off their horse, shoving them right into the dirt, and pressed your blade against their throat.

“Did the Queen send y-?” You hissed, reaching out to yank the hood down. The rest of the words you were about to say died in your throat as you squinted down at the familiar face. “Xavier?”

He looked at you with the firm steady look in his eyes, as if that was enough to convince you of whatever lie he had spun. But his ears flushed red—a clear giveaway. “What a coincidence...I was planning on checking the state of the borders, and we happen to be headed the same way.”

You laughed dryly. “Certainly, Xavier. Then you don’t mind if we part ways at the next town. I’m planning on taking a restful and slow vacation, and you must be in a hurry to get to the border then.”

He shamelessly shook his head. “I mean, the issue at the border is settled and wouldn’t change in less than a fortnight. They don’t need to see me there that urgently.” His lips curled up faintly at the corner.

You scowled. This prince! He was lying right to your face, and he didn’t seem like he had an ounce of guilt about it. “Well, what would other people think about us then? Only a married couple would be traveling together. Do you want people to presume about our relationship, Your Highness?” You threw your hands up. “And what about your safety? There isn’t a single other knight here from the squad!”

He shrugged his shoulders lightly. “Well, that’s for them to assume. And if you call me by my name, then no one would know who I am, and I wouldn’t be in danger. Besides, I don’t need other knights either. We’re already a good team, aren’t we, Partner?”

You huffed and spun around on your heel, about to start your search for your horse. There was no winning with him. As you found your mare and hoisted yourself up onto her, you squinted down at Xavier, who still looked idle.

“And where’s your horse?” you crossed your arms.

He looked around for a second and then looked back up at you. “It looks like it left. You don’t mind me riding with you, right? Besides...,” his voice softened, and his eyes looked sleepy all of a sudden, “Sleeping these past nights haven’t been too restful for me. I worried that I’d wake up and you would be already gone. I can catch up on some sleep if we ride together.”

Before you could protest, he had already settled himself behind you. His arms looped around your waist. When you turned around to gape at him, flabbergasted, he already had his head tilted down and his eyes closed.

You turned back and grabbed the reins, urging your mare back to the main road. When you were certain that he was actually asleep, you let yourself relax for a bit. You’d drop him off at the next inn and send a carrier back to the palace. By the time he woke up the next morning (or noon, with how his sleeping schedule was), you’d already be almost to your destination.

You were lost in thought and didn’t notice his grip around you tense a bit, not until you heard his voice murmur from behind you. “What did you mean about my mother? I heard she had forced you to meet with her as of late...What did she do?” Despite its softness, you could hear a slight edge to his voice.

You bit your bottom lip, trying to decide what to say to him. “She didn’t say or do anything. Just that, you know...she helped me realize that it would be good for me to start thinking about my future, beyond the castle.”

There was a pause.

“And how are you planning on doing that?”

You cleared your throat. “I mean...I only became a knight because it was a good way for me to help the kingdom and to stay by your side. Now that you’re getting married and leaving, I...I can’t say I know what my next steps are. But it’d be good for me to see more of the world, beyond fighting wanderers and...and as much as I enjoyed it...beyond being your childhood friend.”

After all, you had naively thought you could have stayed by his side forever. How naive of you.

It was silent. Seconds and then minutes and then more passed. You assumed then that he had fallen asleep.

But even as the ride was quiet, both of you slightly swaying with the movement of your horse and his eyes were closed, you didn’t even notice that his fingers were trembling.

🌙✨

The next town was exceptionally quaint. The two of you had reached it right after when the sky was almost beginning to dim and the heat of the sweltering sun had finally dissipated. There was the smoky smell of meat grilling, and groups of children ran past the two of you laughing and pushing each other around. You could hear string music just ahead, and a crowd was gathered around a skit.

Xavier and you talked little as the two of you traversed the space. Only when you had been planning on buying a skewer of lamb had he gently nudged your fingers away from your coin pouch and placed his own coins down. “Allow me,” he hummed. The two of you walked in silence as you nibbled on the meat—even though it originally came from a more rough cut, the way the vendor had cooked it had made it tender and fragrant.

As you scanned the trinkets of the vendor, your fingers lingered on a small hairpin. It was a white flower with a blue gem in the middle, the same shade of blue as Xavier’s eyes, attached to a fragile silver stick. You thought about purchasing it then. A little trinket, that you could carry around as a memory of the night.

Your fingers flexed, as if to grab hold of it.

And then you dropped them. No, it wouldn’t be good for you to carry around all these reminders. You gave an apologetic smile to the vendor and turned away, carrying on to the next stall.

“Why didn’t you buy it?”

You turned around at the sound of Xavier’s voice and bumped into him. You knew he had been following you, but you didn’t know when he had gotten so close—maybe it was the crowd jostling the two of you together. But, as you scanned the surroundings, most of the crowd had already wandered off to gather around a stage where a play was taking place.

“I just,” you felt flustered at having been caught. “It’s not the most fitting for me. It just seems-,” you swallowed dryly, “like it’s beyond my station.”

The two of you had stepped off into a small quiet corner. Despite how dim the lighting was, you could still see the flecks of light in his eyes. He was quiet for a moment before pulling out something from his pocket.

When you saw the glint of blue, you sputtered out, “W-what! Xavier, you shouldn’t have!”

He tilted his head to look down at you, in a way that made every nerve of yours prickle. His gaze was intense. He reached out with a hesitant hand and placed it tenderly against the side of your head. “May I?” his voice was low.

You relented, nodding.

He nudged your head so that it would turn. With quick nimble fingers, he coiled your hair and slid the hairpin through. But even when he was done, his hand hadn’t left you. It instead slid down so that it was cupping your chin.

“I just remembered how you used to wear the flower pin all the time. But then one day you stopped.”

His thumb softly brushed against your skin. God, your throat was dry again.

“Why?” his voice was searching.

Of course, you knew why. You loved that pin. You still love that pin. And even when you had gone on wanderer excursions you had kept it on you still, tucked under your clothes. But the day you had heard news of his engagement, you had thrown it away.

But you couldn’t say that. Instead, you shrugged your shoulders and reached up to push his hand off you. You couldn’t look straight at him.

“I...I don’t know. It just...fell out of use.”

He hummed out a sound that sounded like disappointment. “Is that like us? Do you think we fell out of use too?”

You jolted and looked at him. “No...Xavier, I’m...I’m not someone who deserves to be close to you. You’re...”

“I’m what?” He sounded almost desperate now. But he couldn’t have been desperate about you, could he?

And you didn’t know what to say, but you knew what you wanted to say: You’re getting married. You’re leaving. You can’t keep giving me false hope that I’m special.

But you didn’t say anything of that. And maybe what you said next was worst than all of those statements combined. You just looked at him, with something that you were certain was akin to anguish in your eyes.

“I love you, Xavier.” And when you started, you couldn’t stop. “I have loved you since the moment I saw you. But...you’re...You’re not mine, Xavier. And you’ll never be.”

The moment you registered what you said, you were horrified. Your hands flew to your mouth and before you knew what you were doing, you had turned and started sprinting.

Your mind was spinning. Screw the waiting until the next morning. You couldn’t keep seeing him any longer. Now that you said everything that you shouldn’t have. You didn’t even look at where you were going but you knew you just had to be away, to gather your thoughts and dignity that the next time you saw him again, you could laugh and pretend that it was just the sips of ale that you had taken earlier and you were actually talking about a different Xavier.

Before you could fully slip away, you felt hands wrap around your shoulder and pull you back. You turned sharply, just in time to miss colliding with a group of kids that had tumbled out of seemingly nowhere.

“You can’t just,” Xavier’s fingers were firm, but you could feel them trembling around your skin, “say that and leave.”

Your eyes darted around your surroundings. God, the play had ended and the crowd was already dispersing. You didn’t want to attract any more attention, but you were frantic with distress. You let him pull you away from the crowd and set you down to a seat, staying silent until you were certain there were no other eyes on you.

“I’m, I, I just can’t,” you were shaking now too. Or had you already been shaking? “Can you just forget it, everything I said?”

He laughed. It sounded sarcastic. “Like I was meant to forget what you had said that night when you were drunk, how you said you would never leave my side for the rest of your life.” His voice softened then. “And how I was meant to forget that you had kissed me.”

You buried your face into your hands and let out a groan. “I’m...I did that? Of course, I said something foolish like that.”

And then you registered his second sentence. You bolted up to a standing position. “I kissed you?!”

He seemed calm, but you knew every detail about him—his ears were flushed red, and you could see that his face was hazy with a soft pink. Oh, how foolish were you?

“My sincerest apologies!” you blurted out. “I should have never, I would have never. I said that? I did that?!”

You were hysterical now. Perhaps you should grab your sword now and stab yourself through the heart with it. Your hand was about to reach for your sheath when a hand stopped you.

“If you had not decided to run away before you could listen, to hear my response to your promise,” he spoke firmly, “you would have known that I have shared the same feelings as you.”

You stopped.

“The moment we met, the moment I saw that girl and had her fling dirt on me and how even when she apologized for doing so there was a fire in her that showed that she didn’t think what she did was any wrong,” he laughed. His hands moved up, until they rested on your waist, “I have to admit that I have been hopelessly captured by her. The way she smiles when she finds the dishes she likes and frowns when they aren’t up to par, the way she falls asleep deeply in a second with her mouth wide open, the way she never hesitates to rush in to defend someone with her sword.”

His hands then dragged up until they were once again cupping your face.

“And how I have never been courageous enough to tell her all of these things. That behind it all, when it comes to her I am just a cowardly man. That I get anxious when she doesn’t talk to me, when she decides to do something she’s never done, to such an extent that I become a foolish man who can’t even say a word out of fear of losing her. Because to me, she is my most beloved.”

He swiped his thumb against your bottom lip. His face was getting closer to you. You didn’t push him away.

The kiss was soft and gentle. It felt like sunlight brushing against your lips. You melted under his touch. Prickles of heat surged underneath your skin. 

When you finally parted, he asked, his voice slightly strained, “Will you forget about this too?”

You hadn’t even registered that you were tearing up until you felt him brush away the first drop as it hit your cheek. “I -I must. You are engaged. You will marry another.”

He shook his head. “And in doing so, lose my beloved? Those were all rumors that the Queen had made to force me into this engagement, because she recognized that I love another. That I love you. That I would only marry one, if she would have me.”

You wanted to implore more then. To ask more questions about what it meant for you to say yes and whether it was truly moral for you to allow your Prince to cast aside his duty for you and would it even be worth it.

But you had spent a long time overthinking and asking yourself all sorts of questions. You didn’t want to worry about the future, about the consequences, and what it meant for you to fully defy the Queen’s orders.

All you thought about was how, out of all the questions you have ever had, he had answered the first one.

That memory of the first time you met, he too was a keeper of them. The feelings of those simpler days, when the two of you were young and not quite aware of the difference in status between you and you had kept watch for the head tutors when he would skip his classes to sleep under the great tree but found your own eyes slipping back to him, surged through you.

And to you, that was enough to let you close your eyes and pull him in for another kiss.

Whatever came tomorrow came tomorrow. If you chose to stay, if you chose to leave, rather than uncertainty plaguing you like it had before, you felt certain that this warmth would never leave your side.

✨Extra✨:

He had been careful to not spoil the surprise. It was the day that you would finally start knight training, and he had spent the last couple of days carefully stitching each petal together onto the hairpin.

He had always acquired skills easily, but even though the tutor had complimented his work, he still felt a little embarrassed of the quality. Sure, you would look beautiful in it because you looked beautiful in anything. But was it good enough for you? Would you like that it came from him?

He felt the pin in his pocket again. Should he wait for you to be done? Where should he wait for you?

You had found him the second you were done, your skin flushed and glowing with sweat. His mouth felt a little dry then as you beamed at him.

“We just started training to boost our stamina but pretty soon I’ll have the sword in hand and we’ll be defeating wanderers left and right!” you motioned a sword with your arms. “But training is pretty intense, as you can remember, Sir Head Knight. I won’t be able to come find you like I usually do.”

He didn’t remember how he got to presenting to you with the pin, but as he placed it in your hands, he remembered his mind went blank and suddenly he spoke: “I bought it just now. It’s not the best quality, so if you don’t wear it, it’s alright.”

You had already snatched the pin from his hands and was already working it into your hair. When you were done, you gestured wildly at it and grinned. “A gift for your future accomplice?”

He swallowed again. You really did look even more beautiful than he could have imagined.

Before he knew it, he had come closer. A thick strand of your hair had fallen out of the hairstyle, and he had it in his clutch, pressing a soft kiss on it. Your smile went stiff.

“No, it’s a gift for my future partner.”

A/N: let me know your thoughts! fics are always unedited so if any grammar mistakes or run-on sentences catch your eye...uhhhh no they didn't! and as always, my inbox is open!

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

sky high!au | m.g. x gn!reader

it’s weird going to a high school specifically meant for kids with superpowers, big or small, it makes the four years a little worse for tormenting. some kid got pants by a speedster, and when he tried to run his laces were tied together causing him to trip on the linoleum floor.

high school was hell.

you don’t even know why you go to the school, the ability to rearrange molecules causing them to phase shift wasn’t really great when you can only do small things. pretty sure there’s a rotting apple hiding in the science rooms walls.

at least you had close friends at the school. samantha wilkins, but she prefers her middle name eve more from peers. now that girl is a superhero, with the ability to see atoms and create limitless possibilities-such a badass. rex sloan was another…acquaintance if you could call him that. he causes explosions, big or small just by the touch of his fingers, number one trouble maker (he’s got his own seat in detention).

and then there’s mark grayson, son of omni-man. and he’s gifted with the ability to-to- no one is sure of that yet. for now he’s the only ‘normal’ kid attending the school due to his family status. and he happens to be your childhood best friend along with being neighbors, from séance dog role playing in his backyard to having him help you practice your powers at the age of seven. he was your biggest supporter.

“i feel this would make a killer magic act. maybe we could get into competitions!” mark bounced on his bed from excitement and you just smiled shyly, keeping your knees tucked close to your chest.

“i don’t know…it’s not really good if i can only do a paper clip. kinda lame power i have.” grumbling to yourself. your parents were veteran heros, always saving the world and stopping interglacial wars. you’d never raise to their level.

“hey,” mark poked a finger into your chubby cheek. you sided eyed him gently, no annoyance in your gaze just peering at him. “i think you’re cool.” you scuffed, “you’re just saying that cause your my friend. you’d understand if you had my powers compared to my parents.”

“you’re right, i’m saying that cause i’m your friend. but also i know what it’s like, comparing yourself to others. heck my dad is freaking omni-man! that’s the biggest comparison to date, but i don’t let it stop me. we’re still young, by high school things will be better.”

“hey killer.” blinking your eyes rapidly from a sudden memory, mark was walking into your space. the yellow collar of his shirt popping out to sit at the top of his dark blue striped sweater, one hand tucked into the pocket of his khaki pants. his hair was neatly combed with a bit of gel keeping it in place except for one stray hair that swayed in the wind, it made him look romantic.

“hi marky, ready for today?” talking in the courtyard as you waited for the bell to ring. today was a monthly powers assessment, there were two categories. hero and sidekick. eve and rex have been placed in hero specific classes while you and mark are sidekicks.

a crooked smile brightened mark’s pretty features, “i am actually. got a big surprise for everyone.” jumping his brows conspicuously. you didn’t have time to ask since the bell took its cue signaling the next period. you sighed, “let’s get this over with.”

-

“alright twerps! you know the drill by now. i’m gonna terrorize you and you best keep yourself intact cause i’m not calling the janitor for clean up duty. now first up…amanda johnson.”

everyone was silent, waiting to see the new meat. a young girl stepped through and onto the platform, she couldn’t be more than thirteen at least. coach just stared her down for a moment, “uh…how old are you?”

“seventeen but my powers cause my aging to turn backwards. now are we gonna do this or what?” you liked her. coach stedman just shrugged then blew his whistle loud, it was worse than a screaming cat.

a giant bus suddenly dropped from the ceiling and everyone gasped but then a cloud of smoke appeared and in amanda’s place was a giant green monster around eight feet maybe. murmurs went through the crowd at the mysterious creature, who set the dinged up vehicle to the side and turned back into the junior. she wiped her hands together, “anything else?”

coach stared wide-eyed, speechless for a moment before clearing his throat. “uh hero, but only do that when necessary. and instructed by your teachers.” and he waved her off calling up another girl.

she had short black hair and was wearing a tight purple top with a mini skirt. “katherine cha, how will you amaze us today?”

“actually i prefer kate and i duplicate.” her rhyme followed with a demonstration of five more exact replicas standing behind her, each one doing a different pose. “hero. now mark grayson, get your butt up here.”

you patted his shoulders, “be careful.” he just threw a smile over his shoulder as he walked onto the platform. coach crossed his arms followed with a deep sigh, “any new developments grayson, or are you still weaker than my eighty year old mother? at least she can lift ten pounds.” a small murmur and giggle spread through the crowd of on lookers while you just rolled your eyes at the comments.

all mark said was, “can she do this?” and started to hover off the ground then floated to the top of the gym ceiling before descending down. your jaw dropped, he got his powers, and didn’t tell you. coach stedman clapped slowly, “well well, nice show. anything else? super strength?” a mechanical dummy shot up and without a thought mark swung a fist causing the head to pop off and roll to the other side of the room.

it was silent then, “ladies and gentlemen, mark grayson, your new hero!”

-

“try grabbing a book through your locker. it’s not too thick a metal with a light object, just pretend it’s already open and there’s nothing in your way.” eve suggests while helping you practice your powers.

a deep exhale through your nose as you let the tips of your fingers rest against the cool light blue metal. you tried to make yourself feel weightless, just a simple breeze passing through the trees. you felt the spine of your book in your grasp, then quickly retracted your arm back to your side. a small paper back was your trophy.

“i-i did it. i did it!” thrilled at this achievement, small one, but one none the less for yourself. eve clapped beside you, “see just a little concentration goes a long way, in no time you’ll be joining me in hero classes.”

that got you to quiet down a bit, “apparently mark is getting that first.” a gasped followed, “no way! he finally got his powers?”

a nod, “yep. flying and strength, your typical hero package.” letting your fingers run against the aging paper, a baby frown staining your face.

eve hummed, “he didn’t tell you first did he? just gave everyone a big surprise.” understanding your sour mood.

“it’s not like he has to, but it would’ve been nice. i mean he was there when i accidentally fell through my bedroom floor thus causing me to sprain my ankle. why couldn’t he just hover outside my window?” pouting like a baby.

“why the hell did i just see grayson in my civilian protection class?” rex slides up beside you, casually throwing an arm over your shoulders. “did he finally hit powers puberty?”

eve rolled her eyes, “technically him and y/n are both biologically born with powers, while you and i have a bit of altered dna. it’s like growing plants, takes time and patience.”

“blah blah blah,” rex acting like his usual immature self.

…

a/n: just something i thought of. let me know if this is something yall would be interested in, just a more pg version of their world so more fluff less angst.

[swizzlemynizzle]

Underneath the Noise - George Clarkey

—————————————————————————

Masterlist

Chapter 5: Pub Crawl Survivors' Club

—————————————————————————

By the time they stumble out of the last pub, the air’s gone crisp and a bit damp, like London’s gently trying to rinse them off. Y/N’s socks are still squelching in those cursed size elevens, her mascara’s halfway down her cheek, and she’s just realised she hasn’t eaten since what might’ve been a sausage roll seven hours ago.

But she’s buzzing. Not just from alcohol—though the tequila shot she did with a woman dressed as a human-sized inflatable penis certainly helped—but from something lighter. Looser. Like a knot she didn’t know was there has started to come undone.

They’ve officially completed the entire bingo list. Every chaotic challenge checked off, documented, and occasionally filmed at unflattering angles.

They’re still laughing about the fountain.

“Right,” Bach says, his voice suddenly taking on a strange level of authority for someone who earlier tried to chat up a statue. “Now that we’ve all sacrificed our dignity for digital content, I vote we find somewhere warm before one of you gets hypothermia and I have to be the adult.”

“You are never the adult,” Arthur Hill mutters.

Bach glares. “I am now.”

ArthurTV, who has been silently staring at a Pret A Manger sign across the street for a good thirty seconds, suddenly chimes in: “Did you know the Thames used to freeze over in winter? Like, solid. They had entire frost fairs on it. People selling pies and everything.”

Everyone pauses.

“Cool,” Y/N says. “Do you want to lie down?”

“I’m fine,” ArthurTV replies calmly, before nearly tripping over a curb.

Chris snorts. “Right, let’s get you indoors before you try to reenact the Great Fire of London with a vape.”

They end up at a little pub just off Soho—wood-panelled, dimly lit, the kind of place that smells like spilt ale and second-hand stories. It’s mercifully quiet. No DJ, no inflatable penises. Just a few locals muttering over pints and a dog asleep under one of the tables.

“Perfect,” Bach says, already at the bar. “This place looks like it’s never even heard of TikTok.”

They pile into a booth that’s too small for all of them, limbs overlapping, coats tossed in a pile, laughter still spilling out in waves. It’s the first time all day they’ve been still.

Y/N finds herself wedged between Arthur Hill—who’s gently mumbling about how he peaked in Year 10 during a school play—and George, who seems entirely unbothered by the fact that his left leg is pressed firmly against hers.

He hasn’t said much since the fountain. Just small comments here and there, occasionally catching her eye when something ridiculous happens—like Chris attempting to explain the bingo list to the bartender like it’s a UN mission report.

“So which of us actually won?” Y/N asks, sipping her pint.

“Us, obviously,” Chris says, looking offended. “You think your team could out-do us? I saw you trying to convince a pigeon to high-five you.”

“That was ArthurTV,” Y/N corrects.

ArthurTV nods solemnly. “It understood me.”

Chris raises a brow. “Did it?”

Arthur Hill sighs dramatically. “If this is what peak content looks like, I’m quitting YouTube and becoming a lollipop man.”

“You’d cry the first time a kid called you cringe,” George says dryly.

Arthur shrugs. “Fair.”

Y/N snorts into her drink. She’s still wearing the cursed trainers. Every time someone mentions them, she threatens to launch them into the Thames.

“I swear these shoes are actually cursed. Like, haunted by the ghost of failed pub crawls past.”

“They’ve got better grip than your dignity,” George murmurs next to her, not even looking up from his drink.

She whips her head toward him. “You did not just—”

He lifts his pint, calm as anything. “Just saying. You were two seconds away from face-planting into the fountain.”

“I was being graceful under pressure,” she insists.

Chris raises his glass. “To Y/N. May she one day regain the feeling in her feet.”

They all cheer.

Even George.

ArthurTV zones out again, this time staring at the jukebox like it holds the secrets of the universe. Bach gently tugs the menu from his hand and hands him a packet of crisps.

“There we go, mate. Something salty to bring you back to Earth.”

“Did you know there’s a tree in London older than the Tower of London?” ArthurTV mumbles, munching.

“No one asked,” Chris deadpans.

Y/N leans back in the booth, warmth creeping into her limbs. It's loud and chaotic and completely mad—but she’s in it. Fully in it. Not watching from the outside. Not pretending to belong. Just… there. Part of the joke. Part of the group.

George catches her looking again. Doesn’t smirk this time—just meets her gaze, a little too steady for comfort.

She looks away first. Again.

But not because she’s afraid. More because… it’s something. And she’s not quite ready to name it yet.

Outside, the rain has started again, light and lazy, brushing against the windows like a reminder that London doesn’t stop just because you’ve had a weirdly transformative day.

Arthur Hill lets out a deep sigh. “Well. If I die tonight, bury me in Soho. Let my ghost roam the back alleys, lamenting missed shots and poor shoe choices.”

“You’re not dying,” Bach says, handing him a pint. “But I might smother you if you keep monologuing.”

Y/N laughs, curling further into the warmth of the group, her head fuzzy and heart strangely full.

Somewhere between the bingo chaos, the soggy trainers, and the questionable renditions of Wonderwall, something clicked.

She’s not quite sure what it is yet.

But she’s in no rush to figure it out.

———

The laughter softens eventually. Drinks dwindle. Chris is mid-rant about how hobbits would “absolutely thrive on Deliveroo,” and Arthur Hill has slumped halfway down the booth, quietly singing Mr Brightside to himself.

George nudges Y/N’s elbow. “Want some air?”

She blinks, surprised. But nods.

Outside, the street’s mostly quiet now. Slick with fresh rain, glowing under yellow streetlights. The pub’s hum drifts through the door behind them—muffled laughter, a clink of glasses. Everything feels… suspended.

She hugs her coat tighter. “Didn’t think you were the ‘let’s step outside for a chat’ type.”

“I’m not,” he says. “But you looked like you needed it.”

She glances sideways. “Do I?”

George shrugs, shoves his hands in his coat pockets. “You get a look when you’re overthinking. Kind of like you’re bracing for impact.”

Y/N lets out a breath that’s almost a laugh. “I hate how accurate that is.”

They fall quiet for a beat, the sound of a bus hissing by filling the space.

“I’m still figuring it out,” she admits eventually. “All of it. The group. Where I fit. If I even… do.”

“You do,” he says simply.

That makes her look up.

He’s not teasing. Not playing it off.

Just saying it like a fact.

It catches her off guard in a way that makes her throat feel tight.

“…Thanks,” she says softly, gaze flicking to his. “Even if you did make fun of my trench foot shoes earlier.”

George smirks. “Big head, remember? It’s full of observations.”

She rolls her eyes but smiles anyway.

And just like earlier, he catches it. That flicker of her unguarded. But this time, she doesn’t look away.

They stay there a little longer, side by side in the London drizzle, letting the noise fade behind them.

No chaos. No challenges.

Just quiet.

And maybe that’s its own kind of victory.

---

Last bingo video chapter!!! I might wait a day or two to post the next ones xx

Tags

@madforgeorge

@wherethezoes-at

@sundarksposts

[faeriedaez]

After the recent funny post about 4 inch tall fairies in @anim-ttrpgs's Eureka, I ended up sharing some of my "head canons" about fairyland within the Eureka universe, specifically as they related to little tiny fairies, (which henceforth I shall refer to as Garden Fairies.) The lead writer of Eureka, enjoyed my head canons well enough that he encouraged me to share them on tumblr! I'd like to emphasize, although these ARE "head canons" they are all informed by mechanics and flavor texts from the actual book, so if you like these vibes PLEASE check out Eureka, and I'll leave another link at the bottom of this post.

So in Eureka, it is emphasized that the only monsters which are available as player character options, are those which can passably disguise themselves as regular humans, so the Fairy Investigators have to be (relatively) regularly sized, right? But that however does NOT exclude the possibility for the more modern idea of a Garden Fairy as the sort of monster which CAN'T be ran as a player character.

My head canon is thus, an inconceivably long time ago, a Curse of Reduction was placed upon the Family Names of all the Families who were of sufficiently low strata within the incomprehensible hierarchy of fairy society. So even "to this day*," all fairies of low enough standing are tiny little Garden Fairies! I think many of them will often Remove the Curse from themselves in private, but they are expected to reapply it before appearing in "polite" society.

I think, due in part of their status and thusly being the constant butt of the jokes of regular fairies of standing above them, that (many, but not ALL) Garden Fairies would be kinder to Humans and Changelings. This fits rather well with the pop culture understanding of Tiny Fairies.

I think it is also important to note that I conceptualize ALL the stratification of Fairy society as a sort of compulsory play... It's all rules for the sake of rules. Norms for the sake of norms. Social Class for the sake of Social Class! The "lower class" fairies aren't actually expected to be performing any kind of LABOR. That's why the society can afford to have it's lowest class be tiny in the first place! It's stratification simply for it's own sake. It's a game, it's rules and roles and playing it right! It's who can play what way, whose jokes can be played on who. But if you don't play right, the consequences can be life or death regardless.

This is part of what makes changelings stand out so thoroughly; an inability to intuit the rules. This also thoroughly emphasizes changelings as specifically children from families of middling to higher standing. Which I think fits very neatly within the implications of Eureka's Fairies and Changelings to begin with.

This is all why I love Eureka's approach to Fairies and Fairyland. The implications of the flavor and mechanics are JUST enough to paint this picture to me, and its the same sort of picture that growing up reading so many fairy tales from disparate times and places painted to me. Which makes sense! Given how Eureka fairies were constructed.

I think this head canon also makes room for a lot more types of fairytale fairies! These little "Garden Fairies," families of lower standing... THESE are the sorts of fairies who would live in the walls of a cobblers house and come out at night to help repair the shoes.

Anyways, if you're reading this post and you aren't ALREADY a Eurekahead, check out the game, I promise you won't regret it!

*my head canons on the subjects of the incongruity of chronology between fairyland and the Human World are vague and obfuscative as everything we've discussed here, and probably best left for another post. But they can be summarized as one can summarize all of Eureka's Fairyland: It never QUITE makes sense and sounds closer to a bedtime story than "lore." Anyways, Check out my Eureka OC post about Briar, a lot of what I've talked about here is touched upon!

[maxdibert]

I know that theorically Lily should have been the "most vulnerable person" in the magic world due to being a muggleborn... but with what we see in the books, it's kinda hard to believe it's really true, you know?

Like, if being a muggleborn was so bad, how come Lily was so popular and beloved by everyone? Did she face any disadvantages at all? Or is being called a mudblood the worst thing she had to face? I'm not saying that's easy to handle - we know that's awful, especially for a teenager - but if we look at the kind of bullying Severus faced, it seems small in comparison. Makes me wonder, if we were supposed to think Lily is the most vulnerable, why is she not the one who was targeted in bullying?

Maybe it's just bad writing, even for a kids' book series. We are told that muggleborns are discriminated against, but it's usually in a very superficial way. So it's difficult to believe that Lily was vulnerable in the magic world because we don't get to see her struggles.

Lily was popular and had lots of friends (supposedly, because we never actually see any of them—what a plot hole). She was considered pretty, the richest and most popular boy in her house was after her, the teachers adored her to the point that an idiot like Slughorn wanted her in his club, she was the favorite daughter of her parents who adored her and always spoke well of her. Can someone explain to me what her vulnerable situation was supposed to be? That she didn’t have as high a social status as a pure-blood? So what? I mean, objectively, she was in a much higher social position than Severus—not only because no one ever stripped her in public or had a gang of rich kids relentlessly chasing her to make her life hell, but because she was socially recognized. Even prejudiced professors adored her. She had parental support and maybe she came from an industrial town, but her family could afford to buy decent clothes for both her and her sister—she wasn’t poor. So I don’t know if I’m supposed to see Lily as a poor little helpless girl who has to hide in the school bathrooms in fear of being killed for being Muggle-born, but that is definitely not the impression we get from everything we’re told about her. On the contrary, beyond being called “mudblood” once in a while, that girl never knew what it was like to feel marginalized. And I’m really sorry, but equating a slur with physical violence, sexual assault, extreme poverty, social exclusion, and lack of economic or family support isn’t just sociologically and politically illiterate to a staggering degree—it’s also the kind of thing only people with fewer than two active neurons would say, because it’s downright offensive.

[glasskey]

Season 6 Track 1 - 4 Breakdown

Season 6 is here and I’m going to kick this off by dismantling the first 4 episodes and throwing in some season 6 predictions as well. I’m not candy coating any of this, I’m just going to rip it open and tell you what’s inside. Don’t shoot the messenger. I’m sure Miller and co. have insta pages so go nuts.

There’s an eery and almost supernatural quality to some of the shots this season. It’s a dream, a memory and as such the light glows ethereally, the leaves swirl and dance and conversely a veil of sinister darkness descends.

Season 6 is in effects a replay of season 1 and 2 where everyone gets a second shot at past mistakes, a do over that comes in various familiar forms. We’ve got a bit of switcheroo happening in parts as well, with Nick as the town mayor, in a big house, with a wife as opposed to “low status, lives above the garage, hasn’t even been issued a woman”. Serena is set to hook up with Fred 2.0 and start Queening it up in New Bethlehem. In episode ONE she snuck off with Holly on the train, possibly foreshadowing a return her old baby snatching ways. Nicks once again been buttered up by a creepy old guy, after a bout of fisty cuffs and everyone will now have to run the gauntlet of past regrets, mistakes and missed chances. Wharton appears as a major player in both their lives so where will Nick and Serena land because of his influence once the dust clears?

This season is a journey that both Serena and June will take down opposing roads, and on closer inspection you will see the comparisons right from episode 1. While June is reunited with her mother in reality, Serena dreams of her father. While Holly speaks of Nick with disdain, Serenas father asks to be introduced to Fred. Where will these paths ultimately end? This week we saw Junes bond with Luke slowly separate as she spoke about the loss of Hannah breaking them apart, while Serena drew closer to Wharton. Luke had refused to return to Alaska to Holly and become a family, while Serena and Wharton will soon marry and do just that. The subject of Nick and Fred was also raised in conversation with their respective partners, with Luke accusing June of “wanting to go back in to fight” a veiled allusion to her reconnecting with Nick. Meanwhile Serena referred to Fred as “an albatross”, an obstruction to her success. If Serena continues her thirst for power and her association with Wharton it’s very likely we will see June break ties with Luke and go their separate ways, while re establishing a connection with Nick.

Our initial shot of Blaine is in cuffs, set free at the family home where his dour wife and sinister father in law are waiting for him. Gilead was making it clear from the get go, if he behaved like a good little boy, he’d get out of his bonds. Let’s not get confused, Blaine wasn’t actually getting out of prison, it was just more luxurious. Rose is not June, the beach that Blaine gazes out on is not the illusive Hawaii, its empty and isolated. Wharton's waiting for him already, it’s clear Rose's worded him up about Osborne and here comes the speech about “putting away childish things” Blaine turns his back to the beach view, Hawaii is always just out of reach, a part of Blaine can’t bear to look anymore and Wharton is making it clear it’s best forgotten.

I’ve now come to know Miller as the evil genie in the lamp, tell him your wish and he’ll give you the very worst conceivable version of it. From the moment Nick walked into Lawrences office and quipped that he “didn’t have the power or the capability” to have June killed I could tell this was not going to be a cozy Nick and June season. So who did have the power Nick? We ended 5 10 with the young commander so full of gusto, to take who ever was responsible in hand and now nothing? No follow up? Perhaps it was the imposing father in law now bunking in his house, who was constantly surveilling and timetabling his day to day. Blaine was rightfully scared and it was only a matter of time before he ditched his deal with Tuello. Josh Charles is brilliant this season as the quietly menacing Wharton. Silver tongued and super creepy, he seems to know exactly what everyone wants and offers it to them like a juicy deliciously cursed apple. His ability to disarm his victim with grovelling self effacement, slide under their radar and acquire power over them with velvet stealth is truly awe inspiring. While Serena was flattered by his advances, I’d never felt more inclined to unleash some mace. It takes all of a nano second for him to start slobbering sweet nothings into Nicks ear, about being “full of potential”. Potential for what? With a C.V. like Blaine’s I could only imagine.

Personally I’m really not keen on this look for Blaine, it’s a world away from the Nick we’ve known in previous seasons and a wee bit too. Dante’s Inferno for my taste. This swing around profile shot demonstrates the beginning of his descent into darkness, figuratively turned by the imposing figure of his father in law. Blaine essentially looks like a demon which I found a touch heavy handed, but never mind, he’s now decided to go dark on Tuello and off to Hades we go. The whole scene is a call back to S4 03 when Lawrence asked Nick to let Osborne go and he refused. His actions here represent a loss of hope of a chance at a life with Osborne, it’s something he never expected anyway “a pipe dream”, and besides Gilead wants to give him more of that delicious power. He hasn’t seen her in months and something is always better than nothing at all. It seems that Gileads never done trying to tear these two apart. In episode 4 we saw Nick being pulled between Lawrence and Wharton at the High Commander ceremony with Wharton winning the bout. It’s only 4 episodes deep and Blaine seems to be falling in line already. Lawrence built New Bethlehem with the idea that a brutal regime be dismantled, but Wharton's no moderate and he has no intention of losing a very effective enforcer. Blaine’s brutal, clinical, determined and best of all malleable.

They’ve already given him a new car thats pretty much the equivalent of the figurative “pale horse” that death rode in on. Pitch black, sleek and designed to slip away stealthily at breakneck speeds, it’s headlights glowing like demonic eyes. It’s the essential accessory for every aspiring villain.

Unfortunately for these writers, this seasons Nick “fresh from the lock up” Blaine, oozing with fuck off and complete with hot new wheels just keeps scoring points. If they were trying to make the resident bad boy look even badder, hotter and simultaneously more disarming then mission accomplished. Blaine was now noir flavoured cat nip. There were signs that Blaine wasn’t exactly keen about his deal with Tuello from the get go, because of the amount of untrained civilian rebel fighters that Tuello was calmly throwing at Gilead military forces to be slaughtered. June expressed similar misgivings and while I could see their perspective, Tuello was not about to lay down and let his country be taken without a fight.

“Devotion” makes it clear that while Nick may run to June’s beck and call, he won’t come for Tuello or anyone else. His devotion was to her and her alone. He had no loyalty to Mayday and the words “I had to, I had to see you” about his arrangement with Tuello, told me that he’d been driven into his deal for no other reason than Osbornes safety. While she was touched, it fairly raised the question about how Nick actually felt about Gilead itself? He’s become very comfortable “staying out of trouble” doing absolutely jack fuck all about the Handmaids until now so in the final analysis, what WAS he actually prepared to do about it? It’s a larger question the show is circling about male complacency and facilitation in the act of violence against women. Blaine pick up your feet.

Nick and June meet in the forest in a glorious golden light, there’s an aura of peaceful seclusion and I was reminded of that majestic wooden bridge in 4 03. Previously their solitude had been broken by a Gilead van creeping down the drive, this time Tuello was waiting. These two would get no peace from either of their countries. “Why would they do that? It’s dangerous” Blaine commented when Osborne made him aware of Luke and Moiras trek across the border. The statement itself revealed that he thought the rebellion risked too much. After a bit of to and fro Blaine finally offered to go and retrieve the two himself, “I’m coming with you” June says, a callback to her and Luke’s expedition into No Man’s Land in season 5. This time I had to chuckle when Blaine wearily told her to “get in the back”. “I know, I know” June replied….here we go the old team is back together.

The deserted waterpark was desolate and abandoned and yet Nick and June’s conversation took place once again in a sheltered area covered in greenery so reminiscent of S2 12 and S5 09. Previously Blaine had been stitched closed with loyalty, but the edges were fraying and now he just seemed desperate. He was feeling isolated, lonely, used up and worst of all abandoned. I had sensed in S5 09, a deep pain in Blaine that she had a life outside of him and he’d been left behind in Gilead to rot. And rot he did. The glimmer of hope from her constant distant glow, just out of reach was utter fucking torture and to be honest he couldn’t take it anymore. ““Do you even know what it’s like to be in love with you?” Was she ignorant to his pain or did she simply not care?

It’s obviously incredibly tense at home and he’s getting a lot of shit because of June. “If I even think about you, Rose can smell it on me”, the pressure at home was enormous, even his thoughts were being monitored. Rose could sense Osbornes constant visceral presence and there was a quiet desperation that Blaine could barely contain any longer around June. He was utterly obsessed, even Tuello knew that he would drop everything and come running on the one day he was meant to show up to perform for Gilead. His preoccupation with June was starting to cost a lot, and it was all beginning to wear thin. He felt forced into his agreement with Tuello because he had to see her, he HAD to see her. His compulsions had him cornered, she may not want to put him in any danger but the fact was it was irrelevant, he could NOT help himself.

Now she was here to ask him to rescue her husband of all people. “You have a whole life” “Do I? Cause I’m not so sure I do when I’m around you” he said. It suddenly became clear, he believed she’d chosen, she appeared in his life so very briefly so infrequently, if she would just go away and “stay safe” he’d stop losing pieces of himself over and over and over again. As it was, her bi annual reappearances were a reminder of the smallness of his life, no sooner had he drifted off to a submissive slumber, than there she was again to wake him. Osborne the waking dream and nightmare all in one. I suspected this season he would try and cut her out of his heart for his own self preservation and it would break him.

I sensed an argument blossoming. Aside from the hopeless romantic something lies deep inside of Blaine, the pain of being abandoned over and over and a quiet desperation to silence it no matter the cost. With creepy Wharton waiting in the wings to adopt his new protege, dip him in the buttery goodness of Gilead power and bake him for 40 minutes, I could only guess at the monumental struggle Blaine had before him to not be swallowed whole by the monsters that dwelled within. I wasn’t so sure he’d be able to truly make it through the fire. “I can’t lose them, they’re a part of me” June had said about Luke and Moira, a call back to season 2. “I feel that way about you, I only feel that way about you” Blaine had replied. This is a callback to S2, when Blaine had first told her he loved her, and here we were again.

This episode makes a point of wheeling out the heavily pregnant Rose on New Bethlehems open day. It’s a boy and nothing is more precious to Gilead than their sons. This child itself symbolised a generational commitment by Blaine to Gilead. Which is exactly why June could barely choke out the words that he had another child on the way. Nicks been made the “mayor” of New Bethlehem, the version of Gilead that conveniently lets you live in denial of what the realities of Gilead are. He’s the spokesperson for Gilead Lite who up until now has been towing the line but on the one day he’s meant to show up and perform for them he’s bunked off with Osborne and Co. Oops. While it was abundantly clear that Disney + was inserting some sort of weird product placement into the script, I still felt a bit robbed we didnt get at least a couple of bars of “Circle of Life”. I suspect Disney’s just getting fired up though, so maybe next time.

In season 2 the heavily pregnant June almost miscarried, so would his child die this time or birth a healthy son of Gilead? What happens when he holds his son for the first time? He’d left Rose alone today for Osborne but what about next time? What about Holly? He’d had the chance to choose her, to choose a free life with his daughter, and because of Wharton he was turning his back on it. What’s the statement here? Hatred’s generational, lost fathers, wayward sons….”Children look to their fathers” June had said so what did that mean for Blaine and his future? For Nick and June? It’s telling that June is now calling their daughter by her “real name”, her mothers name, that Holly’s staying with her mother, that Blaine’s expecting a boy and Wharton keeps calling him son….it all matters. Blaine is much more chatty this season but it was immediately apparent writers were determined to make him seem distant, cold and unlikeable, with his tone now combative, surly and arrogant. In previous seasons we’d seen a softer side of him, right down to his tone of voice when approaching June but now it was gone. He never called her name, he never brushed her hand, she barely fluttered her eyelashes and the descriptive phrasing for this character went from a “Good man in Gilead” to “a Nazi” in the short space of two episodes. Fuck, that was quick work.

In one scene Blaine switches into trademark psychopath mode, shooting two guardians dead in a quick, casual fashion. Moira and Luke are horrified, who the fuck is this guy? June seemed ridiculously shocked for someone who had herself shot guardians, encouraged Mrs Keyes to gut one like a pig, beat a commander to death at Jezebels, poisoned a whole swathe of them and hunted Fred down in the forest and eaten his face off. Even Moira had stabbed a commander to death at Jezebels. Never mind, seems legit. It was a moment obviously designed to impress upon the other characters Blaines ice cold brutality, but I wondered if they would have preferred to have ended up as just another body on the fire, as Blaine so eloquently put it. Still I was expected to believe this lot were shocked at the sacrifice of two stormtroopers. Fucking please. Story wise, it’s important that June didn’t witness Blaines act of violence here. She’s aware he’s trained to do so, but she’s never seen him actually go full death dealer and I’m fairly sure they’re saving that one up. Similarly it’s just as important that Luke did, he knows now exactly how effective this man is at completing the task given, what June meant when she said “he’d do anything for me and for Nicole”.

There are signs in episode 3 that Nick and Luke will come to blows in the future, one second Luke’s waving his gun around, the next the bro vibe is just way too hard. Luke is up to his old insecurities and macho bullshit; lying about running off with Mayday just to score cool points with June, and telling Moira that he should’ve never let her come along with him. And if it wasn’t bad enough being collected from the waterpark by his wifes side piece, he also had to watch Nick clean up his mess and then had to ride home in the back seat of THAT car. It’s intimidating to say the least and in episode 4 we see Luke all the more desperate to prove himself.

Blaines direct action of rebellion against Gilead will have consequences, but as usual to protect Osborne he did it without hesitation. It’s just another sacrifice he’s made, one that may be his eventual undoing and ultimately you have to ask yourself, when is June going to show up for Blaine? If she keeps asking for more and more, it will be easy for Wharton to convince him that the cost is simply too high. He's already attached himself to Blaine like some sort vampiric gargoyle and if Osborne doesn't kick him off her boyfriends throat soon, he'll drain him dry. As Nick and June bid each other goodbye it’s clear that Osbornes had a gut full. The whole thing was useless, she couldn’t stay away from him and he’d dumped his pregnant wife AGAIN to come running. Who did they think they were kidding?

As in season 1 and 2 you can expect to see Nick and June hooking up and as usual it’s going to get fiery, but with Wharton pulling the strings, ultimately they may not prevail. Personally I’m gutted, I love them as a deadly Mayday couple and Luke and June just seem like such a watered down version of it. I’m most heartbroken about what seems to be happening to Blaine. Instead of a carefully nuanced character walking a tightrope, I’m seeing Nick being not so subtly, transformed into a believer. Watching season 1 and 2 again, it’s disturbing to note how the lines are blurring between Fred then and how Nick is evolving. It’s not a mistake and neither is the fact that Fred was expecting a son and now Blaine is too. It’s not hard to see why audiences would rightfully be concerned about Blaines ability to make through his final tests. Miller keeps going on and on about characters revealing their true faces, and it’s not hard to see where they’re going with this. There's a lot of talk about those simply concerned with self interests being the bad guys this season. In episode 4 Rita commented on Nicks transformation since season 1, and he replied that being a commander in New Bethlehem was the safest thing to be in the safest place. In season 5 Nick told Lawrence that having Osborne in New Bethlehem was “Full of risks”. The fact that Nick was scared enough to break with Tuello so early on in the season and began his trial by fire, shows promise.

It hopefully demonstrates an arc where he finally steps out of that constant looming father figure shadow and demonstrates some bravery. I’m wary though, this season seems to be running in reverse. In season 1 Nick could be trusted, this time we know he’ll betray her. In season 2 Nick chose June over Fred, this time he might not choose her over his father figure. If he’s to be reduced to a true believer, I now expect to see some backtracking through the seasons and revelations of sufficiently unforgivable acts, coupled with his act of betrayal just to bring it all home. I saw this distinct possibility unfold before my eyes with perfect clarity as soon as I heard the words “fucking a Nazi” come out of Hollys mouth. Her mothers horror that Nick had been an Eye and was now a Commander, combined with June’s denial of any malignancy in his nature, solidified him as nothing more than a fascist that had somehow slipped under her radar but not dear old Ma’s. This moment is a call back to season 1 when Holly had warned her not to take her energy and give it all to a man and June had married Luke nevertheless.

Holly’s warning indicates Nick will probably reveal himself to her as such over the course of this season. It was such a bold call out that it completely negated any other future story line or character developments. It had about the subtlety of a sledgehammer, for the writers to have the most prominent feminist, matriarchal figure, in the protagonists life, yelling it in her face. This show loooooves mothers and as such the protagonists mother occupies the highest position of authority when it comes to wisdom. Serena too was called a Nazi in the first episode, and June saved her from a train carriage of angry handmaids. It made me wonder if June would ultimately feed Nick to an angry pack, if she finally resolved that he was simply no different to all the rest. Moss constantly calls June and Serenas relationship “The Love Story” of the show. That’s not love, it’s abuse. I will be disgusted if they actually give Serena a redemption arc this season. She has expressed the most meagre level of regret and committed horrific acts of abuse.

If they have resolved to drag audiences through seasons and seasons of a love story only to turn the ENTIRE thing to poison in the eleventh hour then they can expect their audience to be understandably hurt. The reality is, it’s cruel and it comes at a cost, one that writers better be prepared to pay. I can only conclude that they’ve either waited THIS late in the piece to strip the love interest of any possibility of redemption OR that was their plan all along. At the end of the day both are a great big fuck you, if you really think about it. I’m also a bit horrified that they would also take a clear socio economic underdog, and ultimately grind him into a fine powder. Comparisons began between this show and the current politically charged climate several seasons ago, and I guess they felt somewhat cornered by it so now they’ve decided to run with it full tilt. As a result Blaines personal history acts only as an asset to demonstrate the vampiric nature of powers that promote gender violence and discrimination. The self cannibalising consequences as those that benefit are polluted with power and lose their humanity. His past wont be used to draw any quarter, it just acts as a tragic exhibition.

Don’t get me wrong, I get why they’re doing it, it’s a valid commentary, but it doesn’t mean I don’t get to hate them for breaking my heart and it DEFINITELY doesn’t mean that I don’t get to be pissed off they waited this long to do it. I honestly hope I’m wrong, I hope that instead Blaine will finally demonstrate the required fortitude, that he’ll decide that “staying out of trouble” was always just a life half lived. I was assured that this season was a love letter to the fans and I hope to God I won’t want to send this one back.

[keitheaverage]

So full disclosure, when Power of Potluck was first announced and I saw the preview of ENA with her blue side having returned, I was almost a little... disappointed? Like, I had this feeling of "Why couldn't she have just had her Happy ending in Temptation Stairway where she and Moony got to keep their new favored forms forever? Is this a cruel rule of the status quo that tortured souls like Ena's can never heal?"

But then I watched the episode when it premiered, and... I got it.

For starters, the joy Ena received from Runas was only surface, skin-deep you might even say. Whatever's gone on in her life to make her that way didn't suddenly disappear with her sad side, it simply went quiet for a little while after making her wish.

Also, and this is more of a headcanon, but I figured that maybe any wishes made to the Great Runas only exist while those making their wishes dwell within it, therefore when Ena and Moony finally went back home after their little 10k-year sabbatical, they immediately reverted back to their original selves. Any so-called "progress" Ena made on the other side in regards to her mental health basically went away after she left. Her wish was voided and her sadness returned.

In canon, it would seem that she carries a bit of shame over her sad side's outbursts. And if my hc has any truth to it, the blow-back from all her sadness coming back to her was probably all the more jarring and painful for her to live with. Naturally she would grasp at the first thing that would help her hide her sadness away from people: the mask. And like her Runas wish, it probably worked for a while! She was normal again! For a while.

Her wish in TS numbed her sadness. The mask numbed her emotions fully. She tried to take shortcuts to healing her sadness for everyone's comfort and convenience (including her own), but none of them stuck. None of them were actually making her feel better. Only when she decided to take the uncomfortable steps of seeking out real help for her emotions, in this case finding and speaking to the therapist in POP, could she really begin that healing process in earnest.

So, like, I get why TS could not be the last episode of the series. I get why POP was made. In fact, POP is now one of my favorite S1 ENA episodes next to TS. Certified Good For Her™ Cinema, in my book.

In regards to my own headcanons and past artwork, I think all the stuff I've drawn of her and Moony in the past can still comfortably exist without having to pull too many strings. Although I think I'd have to leave their fankids behind in the Great Runas' Domain. :n( Though whether they stayed behind willingly or were simply not allowed by the Powers That Be to leave with their mothers... idk if I'm THAT cruel, but who knows. ;n) Regardless, canon doesn't mess with my fanon timeline too much, not yet, anyways.

Either way, I had to refresh Ena's post-series look to accomodate for her blue side returning. I also just wanted to see what she'd look like with that bobbed-hair-with-long-braids look, I thought it'd suit her vibe of embracing her different sides, being more at a more natural emotional equilibrium. I also also thought it'd be cute if Moony gifted her the earring I used to draw her humanoid form wearing.

[temple-of-hermes]

Worship Wednesday

Hermes Tricephalus

"Three-Headed (of Road Intersections)"

It took a little research to figure out this epithet, but I think I figured it out. Hermes received the epithet Tricephalus due to the herms ("a statue consisting of a squared stone pillar with a carved head (usually a bearded Hermes) on top; used in ancient Greece as a boundary marker or signpost (1)") that were found at crossroads. The "three-headed" part of the epithet may have come from the herms having a face for each path.

Worshipping Lord Hermes as a god of Crossroads

I don't see this talked about very often. Hardly at all, actually. So how can you worship Lord Hermes as a god of crossroads?

There's a few ways I managed to think of...

Leave offerings at crossroads. This doesn't have to be anything elaborate. A simple coin left on the ground will suffice.

If you're hiking/out in nature and come across a crossroads, you may be able to leave other offerings. For example; fruits, nuts, flowers, seeds, writing on some paper, a stone that you particularly like, and water

Invoke him as a god of crossroads when you're making a difficult decision in your life.

Crossroads are considered places where the veil is thin, so honoring those who have passed is an excellent way to worship Hermes Tricephalus. It also ties in his Chthonic side.

Crossroads traditionally held spiritual meanings of change and transition, so pray to him when you're going through a change or transition in your life.

In Conclusion...

Have you ever heard of Lord Hermes being worshipped as a god of crossroads? Do you currently worship him as such? If not, you may want to consider adding this interesting aspect of him into your practice. I've found that Lord Hermes is always there when I'm going through a major change or transition in life. Those times now makes a lot of sense.

Have you noticed any of Hermes Tricephalus' presence in your life?

[thefirstlioveyou]

It is significant that Mike is finally in the center instead of El by the end of S4 — He's going to be the hero he believes El has to be.

El's story was never about becoming a hero. Every season, she begins curious about the world and her identity. She seeks to explore that part, but she's always dragged into another situation. She has to save everyone because she has no other choice. Every season she's repeating the same hero's journey but is she ever actually getting what she wants? No. There's a reason why she loses. Not because she's a bad at what she does or something, but because it's not the point of her character. Next season she will have a chance to figure out what's truly home to her and what she actually wants. Notice how she's away from everyone else.

The "hero role" in the end will go to the character that has always desired to be one their whole life, not the one who didn't get the choice. The Duffers have set up something special for Mike next season by giving him the role as the Heart. It is his arc next season to prove to everyone and the audience that he is, in fact, that. And in Hopper's words, the key.

This scene between him and Hopper proves this even more.

Mike's grown, and he's not talking about growing up from his typical little shit behavior. He literally makes a dumb fat joke. But it's clear Hopper's grown to love this aspect of him. The point of this moment is to show Mike's grown from who he was in S1 and is ready to start filling in the role he never believed he could. The writers are finally gonna give him the chance.

This makes me think more about the leak of Mike sitting with Hopper in front of the statue honoring heroes. Mike is likely remembering El but I also wanna place bets somewhere in the scene Hopper calls him a hero and honors his actions. That'd be really sweet and I can honestly see it.

The fact that there are still people who genuinely believe Mike hasn't been a leader since s2 is baffling. It bothers me so much because what show are you even watching? If it weren't for him in S4, the california group would've never found El. It was his ideas that led the whole group to their goal. It was him who had to be the one to say anything at all when El was dying. Even if Mike's insecure or confused with himself, even if he's making bad choices as a friend as a result of his mental state, that has never stopped him from performing as a leader. In the end, the writers made the choice for him to have relevancy when it came to S4's final showdown, despite having zero connection to the Hawkins group.

There's a reason why they had Karen hug Mike and tell him he's staying right there in Hawkins and never leaving. They need him, and we'll find out why that is.

[lestapiastrisgirl]

Just a random thought, but will they try to learn each others languages.

Max and Charles already know english, but if they randomly start speaking in australian slang(i think that is the words, not sure). Like thong instead of flip flops.

Maybe oscar overhears max on the phone ones and tey to learn some words he hears max say sometimes. And then come to the conclusion he had learnt a german word instead of dutch and max is just laughing

Or french because Charles likes to use nicknames and he looks up what they all mean and says them back.

I just saw that video of oscar trying to respond in french to the reporter, so that is why this is on my mind

Have a good day🩵

Okay I always saw that video and Osc is sooo adorable!

I’m in LOVE with this concept, but let’s approach it from a slightly different angle.

~

Oscar had been preparing his little speech for a while now. It wasn’t a proposal, per se, but it sure as hell felt like one.

Planning to tell the two people you loved more that anything that they were it for you, felt pretty damn close to what wedding vows were always attempting to capture.

So, no, he wasn’t proposing.

He was declaring.

Max and Charles were his end all, be all.

He needed to make sure they knew that. Make sure they understood that their age difference didn’t matter, that the world outside of Red Bull, Ferrari, and McLaren (oops, spoilers!) meant nothing to him without the two of them by his side. That their lifestyle choices and business dealings will never overshadow what the three of them meant to one another.

Rehearsing what he was going to say he been more challenging that he would have expected. He was rarely alone. If he left the apartment, it was usually with Max. When he was home, Charles was attached at his hip. The lack of space was never suffocating though.

Quite the opposite actually.

He had always craved this closeness, desired a connection with someone the way he had with Max and Charles now. His loner status wasn't a choice. It never had been. Maybe his mistake had been spilling that to Charles one night when he thought their words were being swallowed up my the traffic noise just outside the open window. Or it could've been when Max caught Oscar staring longingly at him and Charles curled up on the couch together without him. That had been the first and only time he hadn't been invited to sit between them during movie night.

"Vous l'étez pour moi." (You are it for me.)

The French had been the easier part.

Oscar had found himself picking up phrases here and there from Charles. It was the native language of their home country after all. He had grown up around French. It rolled off the tongue easily. "Merde" in frustration, a sleepy "bonjour" in the morning. "Merci" fell from his lips more often than "thank you" nowadays.

Dutch had been a different story entirely.

He wasn't even sure that the language had actually been invented by humans. Oscar's mouth may have been skilled at many things, but forming the shape for the sounds of the Dutch language to come out correctly was not one of them. It took days. Weeks. His pronunciation was still rubbish though. He just hoped Max wouldn't laugh at him.

He needed each of them to know. To know in their own languages. To know he was here, that he was committed to them. That their love traversed time and space, language barriers and all. Oscar was determined.

Tonight over dinner, he would let them know. He would make sure they knew.

"Ik zal de rest van mijn leven van jullie twee houden." (I will love the two of you for the rest of my life.)

~

OKAY SO THIS MAY MAKE IT INTO THE STORY. THANK YOU.

[jams-sims]

So I finally got to the infamous frog scene- although it had me kicking my feet. I think what I took away from it was is MaoMao saying and "I have a feeling whatever he tells me I have to take it to my grave."

One; Maomao recognizes that she is a bad liar. She primarily tells the truth because it's easier. Two; Jinish is so focused on his love for her that he doesnt understand that his truth will put her in danger. I mean she's already risking a lot by doing what she does period. It's by the grace of the Empire and the cortisons that allow her to keep living.

Actually now that I'm thinking about it I don't think Jinish has ever confessed his feeling to MaoMao. I mean it obivous to us, but MaoMao is so Aroace coded, he would have to spell it out. She may have grown up in a brothel but all she knows is the technical stuff. Not the messy emotional side. Like she has seen it yes, but all of that is divorced from herself. Vomit cause im just like her and it hurts to write this out.

She see herself as less than, scruny, pitiful, she lack anything that she knows attractes a man. In her eyes she is not a good option. While everyone else especially Maomao sisters think otherwise. She just a short stack, she got more of her father than her mother who was a little taller than her.

Jinish is in a high enough postion that he doesnt see the lowly status that Maomao actually has. Its a blessing he doesnt see her as her postion as someone below him.but it is a curse in its own way making him act reckless. Like genuinely what are your plans Jinshi? Are you going to marry her, can you marry her? Technically you're a prince, but you are being head hunted. And here's the kicker, I don't think he has any type of plans. My boy is yearning to themax he can seethe forest for its trees.

[moonyskarma]

answer as your dr self ᝰ.ᐟ marauders dr version

— original questions by @zaddizu

what is your name? ➸ apollo castor calloway // charlie potter

favourite food? ➸ im definitely going to have to go with bangers and mash. come on. i'm a mashed potato fiend. also chocolate frogs? like im sorry but ughhh my favourite sweet treat ever

you can only choose one movie to watch for the rest of your life, what would you choose? ➸ i don't... have one. to be fair, i'm a pureblood wizard from a pureblood family. um. not a movie person??

what is your birthday? ➸ april 30th, 1960

what is a song you will always have a place for in your heart? ➸ rebel rebel (david bowie), beautiful boy (john lennon), goodbye yellow brick road (elton john) . . . i like music

favourite colour, go! ➸ MAROON. i'm not just saying that cuz i'm a gryffindor, that's genuinely my favorite color in every single dr—that and like, navy blue and forest green

name the most important thing to you. ➸ my friends who became my family. james, remus, sirius, regulus, barty, evan, marlene, lily, mary. my sister, cara.

least favourite memory? ➸ the prank. need i say more?

someone you dislike? ➸ severus fucking snape. get your nose out of your ass and realize that LILY DOES NOT LIKE YOU. NOBODY ELSE DOES EITHER.

in a crowded room, who would you look for first? ➸ probably sirius? he's always the easiest to find, always the center of attention.

best music genre? ➸ ROCK. always always always.

a topic you defend with your life? ➸ rights. muggle rights, werewolf rights, basic human rights. i may come from a stereotypical asshole pureblood family but i'm not like that

a character you relate to? ➸ peter pan. and wendy. and tink. i'm all of them all at once. it's complicated.

picture your room, is it organised or messy? ➸ considering i share a room with three other boys... messy. my section of the room is usually... relatively organized? as much as it can be for a teenage boy-

gun to your head... are you funny? ➸ apparently?

fruit platter or candy platter? ➸ hm. i want to say fruit platter but... it depends on the fruit.

sugar, sour or spice? ➸ sugar!

whats your aesthetic? ➸ old money rich boy doing everything he can to be the opposite of that. leather jackets. smudged black eyeliner. scuffed maroon converse. guitar picks in various pockets. worn leather notebook full of prophecies.

who in your dr would you not be surprised if they came out as a shifter? ➸ fucking pandora rosier. there is no way she's not a shifter.

whats your hogwarts house? ➸ gryffindor! though, many like to say i should've been in slytherin.

ambivert, introvert, or extravert? ➸ introvert, definitely. though.. maybe an ambivert, actually?

best school subject? ➸ charms, probably. or astronomy. or defense against the dark arts?

where can someone find you when you're sad? ➸ if i'm genuinely in a bad mental state, you won't find me. but other than that—the astronomy tower, down by the black lake, or somehow i've flown up to the roof and tucked myself into a little nook.

who are you? ➸ charlie potter. gryffindor. white wolf animagus. a marauder. a future auror. heir to the calloway house, i suppose.

someones music you dont enjoy? ➸ CELESTINA WARBECK. im sorry but no. i am not a fan.

have you had a near death experience? ➸ probably. wizarding wars are not fun guys.

who was your first love? do you regret it? ➸ sigh. i'm going to have to say sirius orion black. he is just.. marvelous. i'm obsessed. do i regret it? did i ever get over it? who knows.

best and worst teacher? why? ➸ i'm actually really fond of professor flitwick, he's really sweet. worst? professor binns is boring as FUCK.

blood status? ➸ pureblood, apparently. but i wouldn't be surprised if there was some sort of halfblood influence in there somewhere. fuck the sacred twenty-eight.

in time of need, would you ever use a unforgivable curse? ➸ it depends. against some random wizard nazi? of course. but if it was someone i went to school with? student-turned-death eater? i don't know if i'd be able to, in the end.

[fantasy-anatomy-analyst]

How hermaphrodite mammals elves could work? How any hermaphrodite mammals humanoid could work? How they could ever come into beging if we assume that gods guide evolution not create outright? How any isolated continent dominated by hermaphrodite mammals and birds and reptliles could work?

while I still can't find any official science community consensus on an alternative term for hermaphroditic species, I did find a new suggested word from 2024: "gonosimulism"

Gonosimulism - An alternative to ‘hermaphrodite’ in biology

Gonosimulistic - referring a sexually reproducing species in which all individuals produce both male and female gametes. Animal species in which individuals are either male or female (with intersex variation) are gonochoric, also spelled gonochoristic, which is the opposite of gonosimulistic.

Etymology

This term was derived from its antonym gonochoristic, or gonochoric, which has a meaning derived from Greek; (gone, (gono) meaning generation) + (chorizein (chori), meaning to separate) Gonosimulistic has similar etymology; derived from both Greek and Latin; (gone, (gono) meaning generation) + (simul, meaning to combine, or at the same time).

just a neat little bonus there, because I know the use of "hermaphrodite" has become a source of contention due to its history of being used as a derogatory term against intersex people. Likewise, I have also seen "agametic" as a new term to describe asexual reproduction, though I'm not sure it's commonly used yet. it's good to see changes like this.

Now, on to the actual question. Mammals that can effectively produce both eggs and sperm don't exist in reality, but in a fantasy world or an alien world, especially with explanations like a literal deity who could have created any living creatures or people they wanted, you have a lot more room for weirdness.

anatomical requirements:

if they're going to be capable of producing both eggs and sperm, and also be able to give birth, there's a lot of anatomy to deal with. This could be cut down by making them egg-laying mammals like the platypus, as they would not need a large womb to produce eggs.

you could also give them a cloaca, which is rather common outside of mammalian species, to simplify things just a bit more. They can still have a penis, as there are animals with both a cloaca and a penis. as long as they have some way to get the sperm into the uterus, they'll be fine.

ultimately, if you're going for evolutionary explanations, I would just say it's a good idea to look back at some prehistoric animals that existed before the modern mammals, such as early synapsids, as well as monotremes like the platypus. you can also look at non-mammalian animals that have unusual reproductive tactics. pretty much all the real world examples of things like gonosimulism will be fish, invertebrates, amphibians, and reptiles. it's not the same, but you could research parthenogenesis as well, which is the ability to produce cloned offspring.

if they're mammals, they'll also produce milk through mammary glands.

Worldbuilding:

in a people species that has no biological distinctions between male and female, they also probably wouldn't have any social concept of gender. their pronouns may be based on something else, like age or social status, if their language even bothers with distinct pronouns. They may have a preference for which reproductive role they take, or maybe they always do both at once with a bonded partner. there are a lot of ways to build up unique cultures around this idea.

any deities they worship would likely be depicted with the same anatomy, and if they met people who were strictly male and female, they'd probably be quite baffled.

how do they view each part of the reproductive process? how do their relationships work? what about childcare? etc.

hopefully that all helps with your worldbuilding! good luck

[alicelillianshaw]

'Maybe that’s what I want to do,'

Alice stands still as a statue as Jack slides back into the water.

It's a relief seeing that, honestly, because it felt so tortuously far for Jack to linger at the edge of the pool. Now he was in it. In the same water that Alice occupied.

She puzzles over Jack's words as ripples circle out from his abdomen.

'With the points,'

Oh.

'If I earn them, I wanna go wherever that rock is. Or, actually, I wanna go look for more, so I can have one that matches your eyes.'

Oh.

Oh, oh, oh.

Something buzzing and numb passes over her body as Jack lowers himself further into the water.

Jack wanted to exchange any and all points to find a stone the color of Alice's eyes.

It's dry, her throat, and Alice has difficulty swallowing. "...You would wanna go to New Mexico?"

Itchy, her palms are itchy even underwater, and Alice presses one right below her navel before curling her fingers into the meat of her hand. Her fist still rests against her abdomen.

That was— well. The thought of all this was making Alice's brain stupid and sluggish, the idea that Jack would cash his proverbial tokens to search for a rock that looked like her eyes. A rock that looked like her, instead of Vegas. Instead of a gorgeous beach in Mexico.

Alice thinks of how their abdomens had brushed.

She thinks of how Jack, someone like Jack had probably seen dozens and dozens and dozens of beautiful women in his time, whether in passing or on a date. Were any of their eyes something he wanted to capture in stone? It made her feel a little hysterically giggly, that hers were notable enough.

Fuck, did this man know just what to say. Such a very dangerous man. Right now, Alice could no more remember her work assignment than she could recite the thirtieth digit of pie.

All her thoughts were occupied with the sheen of pottery and the curve of a roof and the craggy coast of the Aegean.

"It's at this place. Jemez Canyon. It— it gets really hot there, and it's kind of remote. So. You'd have to be okay trading your gorgeous Connecticut weather..."

A beat. Alice takes a few shuffling steps towards Jack, arms raised, floating atop the surface the oars of a row-boat. She feels like a compass needle aligning with the magnetic poles.

"I just wanna make sure you cash your points in for what you really want."

Alice still had the rock. This tiny little rock that had been with her through it all — high school, college, New York. This beautiful little gem that had seen Alice in every era of her life. The good moments, the bad ones. Jack had never felt more jealous of an inanimate object in his life.

What a privilege it would’ve been to watch Alice grow up. To watch as she received her first (of probably many) college acceptance letter. To be a constant in Alice’s life through moving states, starting new jobs, maybe even heartaches.

It was definitely weird to be jealous of the rock. Damn. The drugs had really given him brain damage.

Was it really too late to kiss her? Jack’s heart rate hadn’t gone back to normal this whole time, and he was so sure that her mouth would be the only thing to get it back to normal. His abdomen was still tingling, and he was positive that it would always feel that way until he touched her again.

And he was thinking all of this while she was just a few feet away. Jack’s face had softened into an expression that could only be described as full of longing. The tips of his ears were, no doubt, a shade of fire red, but this time, there was no water to cool him down.

The water couldn’t shock his heart back to normal. Only Alice could do that.

"I wish there was like ... uber-eats, for rocks, so I could show you today."

It would’ve been ideal, but Jack wasn’t sure that he could even handle it.

Why did his heart hurt? Was it really just because he didn’t have her?

Jack swallowed. His throat felt dry. He didn’t think this type of connection was possible. Not for Jack.

“Maybe that’s what I want to do,” Jack said. He slid back into the pool because he couldn’t stand to be any further away from her.

“With the points,” Jack clarified. “If I earn them, I wanna go wherever that rock is. Or, actually, I wanna go look for more, so I can have one that matches your eyes.”

Jack lowered himself into the water further, leaving only his head above water.