#AH FUCK TUMBLR ATE THE QUALITY SO BAD

[karamazovanon]

i KNOW the rituals are intricate (or: "in front of my salad??")

[thesaltyace]

big rant/ramble below, you can safely ignore and move on to the next post in your feed.

Urgh

I shared the results of that autism screener with a quasi-friend who I thought would be "safe" (we used to work together and we connected over his being gay and me being visibly queer) but his response was blergh

Everyone has hints of autism.

okay yeah but this isn't just *hints* of autism. I'm answered yes to symptoms I've had since I was a kid that I've learned to mask or work around as an adult. But I still struggle with them.

He pointed out that he sees me as more ADHD than ASD.

Yeah, fair, and I'd need to see a professional to try to distinguish if my symptoms are ADHD, ASD, or both.

You don't hit the three prongs needed for a diagnosis.

But.... but I do. And the stuff I dealt with as a kid is still stuff I deal with today. I just mask it better. A short and not exhaustive list:

As I kid I had trouble interacting with peers. I didn't have friends, really. I didn't know how to make friends and I didn't try terribly hard to. I acquire friends when someone else "adopts" me and decides that we are friends. And once I became an adult, I have almost never had friends of my own - I share a friend group with my spouse who we're primary connected to through him. I'm okay with that. Maintaining a friendship entirely on my own power sounds impossible and exhausting.

I was okay with not having friends, I liked being alone, but my mom insisted on me being social. She made me join things so that I would have a list of people to invite to parties. I'd honestly have preferred a day of doing stuff I like or just a couple friends. As an adult, I want to be alone on my birthday. I will celebrate with certain friends, separately, usually over a quiet meal. That's it.

I had trouble understanding sarcasm and figurative speech. Like, I understand it now but I still think most figurative speech is annoying. I've been told the way I deliver sarcasm is weird, too.

I liked memorizing movies and quoting them start to finish, I thought it was fun but everyone else thought it was weird. I continued to do this into adulthood but I only quote aloud when I'm alone. Alamo Drafthouse quote-alongs are the BEST. I don't do this with every movie, either, just ones I really like.

Okay actually I also liked to listen to the same album or, in some cases, the same song over and over until I was sick of it (and sometimes even after that point). I mean, just endlessly looping on repeat. Not interspersed with other songs. I do this as an adult a LOT because it's easier with headphones to do this without annoying everyone else around you. Like, often it's fine for me to just put a playlist on shuffle, but I get into Moods where I just want the one album/song over and over. Yesterday I listened to Wellerman about 50 times in a row and only stopped because I had to get up and do something else and that song wasn't "good" for whatever I got up to do.

My special interest as a kid was cats. Literally everything cats, all the time - I sought out obscure facts and could tell you the difference between similar species, and wanted cats involved in literally everything I did. Adults laughed it off as childhood obsession. I was also pretty obsessed with the solar system. I thought asking my peers, as a trivia question, which of Jupiter's moons had its own asteroid (Io, in case you were wondering) was appropriate and interesting and was confused that they didn't know that. That was in fifth grade.

I watched the weather channel for fun. I would watch it for hours and absorb the weekly forecast info just... for fun? I never used it, could never tell you if you should dress a certain way or bring an umbrella or whatever. Everyone thought it was weird.

I was a know-it-all and literally could not stop myself from bluntly correcting people who were wrong. Didn't know or care that it was "rude". I'm still that way but I've learned how to sometimes swallow the urge long enough to find a more tactful way to point it out (but often fail).

I could read on my own before kindergarten, used vocabulary beyond what one would expect for my age, and had a special interest in spelling and grammar throughout my school years. I did not understand how other people weren't interested in learning about it and getting it right. I read at an undergrad level by 4th grade.

I hated loud noises and often covered my ears to block out irritating sounds. I could also hear high pitched noises that even other kids didn't seem to hear (or at least weren't bothered by them). Too much noise sent me into an internal meltdown, I'd just kinda shut down because I couldn't deal with it.

Textures and pressure on my skin bothered the absolute fuck out of me - sock seams, certain fabric materials, socks that weren't equally elastic, one shoe tighter than the other, tags.... all of that. (Also, fun anecdote I just unlocked - when I was 4 or 5 my grandmother started letting me use the soft silk sleep shirt she had as a young woman because I preferred it to anything else. Soft, smooth, no irritating qualities. Bliss. I wanted to wear it all the time.)

Don't get me started on food. Until I was in COLLEGE I mostly subsisted on pasta with either butter or alfredo sauce and chicken. I would eat other things, but pasta and/or chicken was (and still is) my biggest safe/comfort food. I'd eat other stuff mostly if I could control the balance of ingredients, get it made plain, or could confirm the texture wouldn't be offensive (so, like... plain burgers, plain cheese pizza, grilled cheese, mashed potatoes, etc.) I cannot stress this enough - from childhood through COLLEGE I did this. As a kid my mom had to make me a completely separate dish most nights to get me to eat something. My spouse was horrified at what little variety I ate. The only reason I eat so much variety now is that he knows what I do/don't like and tells me in advance if I'll find a texture or taste offensive. Of course, rather than wanting consistent texture like I did when I was younger, I now seek as much texture as possible (so long as they aren't Bad textures) so.... that's fun. But yeah most of my objections to Yucky foods is due to T E X T U R E. Even if I like the taste, the texture overrides it all.

I prefer animals to people. I will seek out animals and interact with them instead of people in the same room. And will pointedly focus on the animal to avoid interacting with people.

I'm perfectly happy with only myself for company. Being with just my spouse counts as me being "alone" though. Always has. I just realized last night that it's because I do minimal to no masking around him because he's a safe person to unmask with and always has been. Never batted an eye at the weird shit I do beyond asking questions about what I was doing or why. And then just "Okay."

Okay honestly just the fact that I want to vent into the void of tumblr instead of actually discussing this with a person - even my spouse! - pretty effectively shows how little it occurs to me to interact with other people directly. o_0

And there are so many more things that I won't list here because I could just go on and on. And like, sure, some of this may certainly overlap with ADHD but my point is that I have enough to point to ASD that it doesn't feel like having a "hint" of autism. And who knows - maybe it is mostly just ADHD and CPTSD stuff interacting in weird ways. Could be!

But just because I can make small talk and make eye contact and do the "normal" shit and I can interact "normally" doesn't mean I LIKE it. I had to LEARN to do those things to avoid having bad social interactions. When I'm by myself or with my spouse, I behave very differently than I do around anyone else. ANYONE. It's not just slightly changing my behavior depending on who I'm with - it's completely suppressing how I naturally would do things if left to my own devices.

Like, the things we recommended to our autistic students who wanted to know how to interact in ways that would help them blend in/be accepted by others ARE THE EXACT THINGS I ALREADY DO. Like, it did not occur to me at the time that neurotypicals literally do not have to think about doing those things. I thought, ah, these students just need to be told what the tricks are. Other people figure these tricks out on their own. It did not occur to me that other people, in fact, do not learn these tricks because they naturally do that behavior. They do not have to actively think about learning the trick, period. I literally thought other people also have to think as hard as I do about interactions. Evidently not.

So yeah, I'm feeling a little upset about the reaction I got from him because I'm like.... honestly, a diagnosis of ASD wouldn't change a lot about how I do things or think of things. But it would make me feel better about interacting with and participating in autism-related stuff if I am actually autistic. I realize I can use the resources and supports meant for ASD regardless, and for formal supports anything I can access due to my ADHD diagnosis likely covers anything I'd need for ASD. But having a diagnosis opens up more community. Right now I'm like yeah I'm ADHD but I totally relate to this ASD content. But I'm not going to interact much because I feel like I don't have the right to join in since idk if I do have ASD.

idk I have a lot of feelings. I had a bad email about the trans insurance coverage thing yesterday and I'm not in a great headspace, but finding out me and my spouse both scored very high on the autism screening stuff was honestly a high point because we ended up sharing a lot of how we view and interact with the world that was very eye-opening about why we interact the way we do, how we relate to others (and how other people think we're weird for how we relate to others), and just...everything. And having someone be skeptical after I've spent a lot of time trying to convince myself that I DON'T have ASD only to conclude that at the very least, I should probably be evaluated because I can't reasonably rule it out. Like, most people do not wonder if they have autism. The fact that I am spending this much time looking into it and trying to find examples to disprove it only to find I overwhelmingly can't in virtually every single diagnostic category.... just..... dismissing it outright is kinda hurtful.

Like, I recognize that ADHD symptoms overlap a fair bit, but seriously. My spouse (who definitively does not have ADHD) scored almost identically to me and we vibed on almost everything when we compared answers. We see most things similarly. We have similar areas of confusion about other people and for fundamentally similar reasons. I can't imagine all of the stuff that points to ASD for me is just ADHD in disguise, not when I vibe THAT HARD with someone else. Spouse does not vibe with me on ADHD content. At all. He can appreciate it since he does live with me, after all, and observes whatever's being discussed. But he doesn't vibe with it. He vibes with autism content, though. And I vibe with both.

idk this rant ended in rambling and I'm just going to go listen to Inside on repeat for a couple hours while I try to calm down a bit. o_0

[sides-of-demigods]

The Forest Incident Pt. 3

Word Count: 1,723

Warning(s): Blood, injuries, cursing, infirmary/hospital

Author's Note: I am upset. It wasn't supposed to be this short but I reached the damn paragraph limit and had to go pretty far back for the most natural cutting off point. I was gonna finish it all this chapter but I guess I'll have to wait a day to two. Ugh. So yeah, there'll be a part Fours that basically just an epilogue. Thanks Tumblr.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4

Virgil muttered an apology and fully slapped the boy across the face and desperately shouted his name again.

Finally, Roman slowly opened his eyes and Virgil let out a little laugh of relief.

“Did...did you slap me?” Roman questioned, his voice weak.

“Well you wouldn't wake up,” Virgil said. “Didn't leave me much choice.”

He dragged Roman over to the nearest tree and propped him against it, flinching when Roman launched into a coughing fit.

“Hold on, hold on I've uh…I've got some first aid stuff just hold on,” Virgil muttered, practically incomprehensible. 

Virgil tossed his sword and shield to the side so he could take off his backpack and rummage through it.

He ended up just taking everything but the protein bars out, because he still wasnt sure exactly what he needed.

He was no Patton, but he was pretty sure he could buy enough time to find Patton or get back to camp. Only problem, they had been following the tracks, so Virgil actually wasn’t sure which way Camp was.

But that was definitely a problem for later. For now, he had to keep Roman from bleeding out in the middle of the woods.

“Okay, here eat this,” Virgil shoved a large square of ambrosia into Roman’s hand and made sure he was starting to eat it before he used his sword to cut open Roman’s shirt.

He had to get it off in order to actually treat the gash and there was no way Roman was taking it off anytime soon.

“You know,” Roman started before coughing again. “If you wanted to see...see me shirtless...you could have just said something.”

"Shut up idiot," Virgil muttered. He opened the First Aid kit and began to use the cleaning gauze to wipe away as much of the blood as possible because at this point he couldn't even see the cut.

Roman looked on the verge of passing it again, but Virgil remembered something about keeping the patient awake by talking or something.

"You saved my life you know," Virgil ended up saying, inwardly cursing himself. "Throwing me my shield I mean. That was some quick thinking."

"You're welcome." Roman tried to laugh but ended up coughing again and slumped against the tree. "You, you saved me too...you know."

"I think all the blood suggests otherwise."

"But after that you…you got me out of the way...that stinger... remember?"

"Yeah I guess. Everything happened so fast." Virgil wasn't fully paying attention to the conversation. He had given up on the blood and reached for the rubbing alcohol, putting some on the left over gauze. "I've gotta clean this out. It's gonna hurt like a son of a bitch though, so try to just keep talking. Ready?"

Roman nodded and visibly braced himself, so Virgil pressed the gauze to the wound. Roman hissed loudly and his head fell back against the tree with a dull thunk. Virgil mumbled an apology under his breath. 

"Not to mention, ow ow ow, this," Roman said, trying to follow Virgil's advice and just distract himself.

"What on Gaia's green earth are you talking about?" Virgil raised an eyebrow. 

"Nursing me...back to, ow, health or whatever. Maybe you're...not an evil, ow, villain."

"And why's that?"

"Ah!"

"Sorry."

"Well if you really wanted me...ya know...dead...this would be the, ow, perfect opportunity. Secret…secret mission in the...the woods...crazy monster….already hurt…"

"I think you're in shock Princey."

"M'not in shock...you're in shock…. you're so...so calm."

Actually, if Virgil thought about it, the delirious demigod may be onto something. 

Usually Virgil would be freaking the fuck out and definitely not treating a wound methodically and carefully and ESPECIALLY not since he himself was injured and exhausted, though the adrenaline coursing through his veins at the sight of Roman's cut and the blood on his own hands was probably to thank for that.

"Okay done with that." Virgil used the last scraps of gauze to get at least some of the blood off his hands before tossing it away. Usually Patton would scold him for something like that but Virgil couldn't bring himself to care about littering at the moment. 

He reached for the bandages instead and helped Roman sit up so he could wrap that bandages around his torso and occasionally his shoulder to help keep them in place.

He used on hand to hold up Roman and the other to wrap the bandages, alternating which hand was doing which as he went.

"Hey Virge? I think...I think I'm gonna take a little nap now."

"Like hell you are," Virgil growled. "Don't think I won't slap you again."

"That's not nice," Roman pouted. He was getting increasingly delirious from a combination of blood loss, exhaustion, and pain, and Virgil wasn't sure how much longer he'd last. 

Virgil had skills limited to basic First Aid and it wasn't professional quality either. If Roman didn't get help quick, Virgil wasn't sure he'd make it. He'd lost so much blood…

Plus Virgil would have to carry him back to camp and he had no idea which way that was. 

Worse still, he didn't think his body could handle that. 

He was bruised and battered as well, he was pretty sure he'd at least crack a few ribs, and was running on nothing but adrenaline at this point. 

Virgil tucked the end of the bandage and secured it with medical tape, but that was about as far as his skills went. Now the other problem.

"We've gotta find Logan and Patton or figure out how to get you back to camp," Virgil was mumbling again, searching fruitlessly through his bag as if a miracle would suddenly appear. In fact, he was actually praying to every god he knew that that exact thing would happen. Because he was out of options.

"I could...do a spell," Roman suggested, his voice quieter and weaker than Virgil had ever heard. 

"No, no way," Virgil argued immediately. "There's no way you have enough energy for one of those."

"I would if you gave me...gave more am..amber...ambrosia."

"You are just a FACTORY for bad ideas right now, aren't you? I already gave you a risky amount, anymore and you'll probably burn up!"

"I don't think we have another choice."

He was right of course. As much as Virgil hated it. If they did it Roman at least had a chance of survival, however slim. If they didn't...well Virgil didn't see a scenario where Roman got out alive.

"Damn it." Virgil cursed, begrudgingly taking the smallest square of ambrosia he could find. He held it up to Roman's lips who obligingly ate it, understanding he needed to conserve as much energy as possible.

They waited a few seconds for it to kick in. Roman schooled his face into one of determination and began to run through songs in his head.

"Go for finding Logan and Patton. I don't think I can carry back to camp," Virgil suggested and sat against the tree next to Roman, their shoulders pressed together. He was exhausted but he still wanted to be close enough in case something happened.

He winced at the movement, his hand coming up to his ribs as he hissed in pain. Roman looked at him questioningly but Virgil rolled his hand to get him going. 

"Don't make fun of me for the song alright? It's the only thing I can think of."

"No promises." 

"And I'll probably pass out after this so-"

"Just get on with it Sir Sing-A-Lot."

Roman took a breath and began to sing. Virgil had no clue what he was expecting, but he was pretty sure it wasn't Gotta Find You from fucking Camp Rock.

"I need to try to get to where you are," Roman sang. "Could it be you're not that far. You're the voice I hear inside my head, the reason that I'm singing. I need to find you, I gotta find you. You're the missing piece I need, the song inside of me. I need to find you, I gotta find you."

His voice got weaker and weaker as he sang, to the point where by the end even Virgil could barely hear it.

Then Roman slumped over and Virgil caught him, propping him against the tree as best he could, but Roman still ended up leaning on him. 

Virgil looked around and began to panic, as it seemed like nothing has happened.

He blinked and there it was, a ball of light almost like fire just floating there. 

And then it zipped off through the woods, leaving a trail of light behind it. 

A few seconds later:

Logan and Patton had found the other two serkets and had managed to dispatch them. 

They weren't unscathed, but since they had managed to take the serkets by surprise instead of the other way around, they were much better off than Roman and Virgil. 

Both were shocked when suddenly a ball of what looked like fire burst out of the trees and stopped in front of Patton then just…hovered there. 

The two shared a curious look, having a conversation without words. Eventually Logan nodded and Drew his daggers as Patton turned to the ball.

Slowly he reached his hand out toward it, closing his eyes just before he made contact with it, preparing to be burned or worse. Instead he heard some sort of shimmer and opened his eyes just in time to see the ball explode into an image of Virgil and Roman leaning against a tree. 

Roman had bandages wrapped around his torso that we're already covered in blood and was pale as snow, Virgil was covered in scratches and bruises and seemed to be gingerly cradling his ribs. 

Patton gasped audibly at the image, his hand flying up to his mouth while Logan cursed under his breath. 

"Patton, look," Logan said, pulling Patton's gaze from the image in front of him and to the glittery trail leading into the woods that the ball had left behind.

The two looked at each other again.

"You don't think…?" Patton trailed off.

"One of Roman's spells," Logan agreed with a firm nod. "He's leading us to them."

"We have to hurry!"

"Agreed."

The two sprinted into the woods.

[unpeumacabre]

Tony Stark Has Many Problems

“Ah, my friends!" Thor booms, and it's a strangely-familiar sound amid the slick noises emanating from Loki's (very pert) bottom. "My brother and I could hear your lovers' quarrel from our positions here. Would you care to join us?"

Tony and Steve have been dating for a while, but one little problem - they haven't had sex. It's making Tony very frustrated - he's never been this sexually inactive in his life - frustrated enough to take his anger out on Steve. Unfortunately (or fortunately) for them, Thor and Loki, recently reconciled and newly intimate, are more than happy to share their expertise with Steve and Tony.

Rating: Explicit

Relationships: Steve/Tony, Thor/Loki (but mainly steve/tony centric)

Read on AO3 (bc tumblr messes up the formatting)

Count: 7k

Tony Stark has many problems.

Dum-E's gotten smart enough to figure out how to brew a cup of coffee, but not smart enough to realise that bringing a hot, steaming cup of coffee to Tony's worktable when he's holding a blowtorch, and spilling said cup of coffee all over Tony's lap, isn't usually the way coffee is served. Clint needs new arrows but this time he wants arrows that play Taylor Swift music when they explode - God only knows why - and Tony is having a really hard time trying to pick a song of hers that doesn't make him puke at the first teeny-boppy chord. Loki has recently taken up residence in his tower - his tower, goddammnit! - and hasn't caused any mischief in the past two days; in fact, he's even helped Tony out of a sticky situation on the battlefield, and things are getting so unreal right now, and oh, Pepper isn't answering his calls because he forgot to vet her speech for the Stark Industries annual ball even though she sent him twenty emails to remind him about her speech, and he really needs chocolate but Thor ate the last Kit-Kat yesterday, and Jarvis - that asshole - conveniently forgets to add chocolate to his grocery list, there's nothing wrong with his weight, goddamnit -

Oh, right, where was he?

Tony Stark has many problems, yes, but his new relationship with Steve isn't one of them. The fact that he's actually started dating the star-spangled, pinnacle-of-human-achievement, Spandex-wearing Captain America hadn't quite sunk in until after Steve had asked him out to lunch at the new diner down the road, and he'd looked down and seen that little burn mark on Steve's thumb, and felt a warm sensation flare in his chest. Because Steve'd told everyone he'd gotten it from fighting the Doombots that morning, but Tony alone knew he'd really gotten it from accidentally sticking his hand in the microwave when it hadn't been switched on. The memory had reminded him that, behind the facade of stoic patriotism and stern-faced Mama-bearism that Steve Rogers wears, he really is just Steve , a dork of the highest degree, who still thinks Jarvis is an actual human being hiding somewhere on one of the ninety-three floors of Stark Tower.

So yes, Tony can hardly believe that Steve is his, really his. It still has somewhat of a dreamlike quality about it, him and his childhood idol, holding hands on a picnic mat under the stars, watching Pretty Woman on Netflix while Steve respectfully gushes about how beautiful Julia Roberts is, kissing desperately in Steve's room while Clint and Thor play Mario Kart in the living room next door -

Okay, maybe there is one teeny-tiny, miniscule, quark-sized problem. And the problem is that Steve is absolutely not down for anything involving him, Tony, a bed and possibly fruit-flavoured condoms (well, a man can always dream). Sure, they'd kissed a couple of times, and maybe even engaged in some heavy petting where Tony had gotten to touch one marvellously-shaped pec before Steve had broken off stammering and red-faced, unable to look him in the eye and sporting an impressive bulge that had Tony drooling. But of course, Tony is all about respect - how proud Pepper would be of him now, if she'd only answer his calls - and he'd mournfully backed off every time Steve had called the festivities to a halt and gone off to spend a suspiciously long time in the bathroom.

Tony thinks sadly of the steamy dream he'd had last night - Steve on his lap, hands down each others' pants, and stroking each other to completion. If his younger self were here now, he'd be laughing his head off at how fucking tame Tony has become. Fifty Shades of Grey has nothing on his college days, but now he's with Steve, quite possibly the love of his life, and even the thought of a quick handjob between the sheets is arousing as hell to Tony.

Tony thinks the problem between them's because Steve's still a virgin. Hell, he knows it's because Steve's a virgin - no girl had wanted to put their hands on the skinny, asthmatic twig that had been Steven Rogers in the good ole pre-world war days, and once he'd become the gold standard for male attractiveness, being a war hero and propaganda tool hadn't exactly left much time for him to indulge. And now, in this new world where sex isn't as big a taboo as it used to be and with everyone speaking practically a foreign language, it's made Steve even more wary of carnal relations.

Yeah, Tony understands, and he's heartbroken for Steve, really he is, thinking about all the times someone'd rejected him just because they could curl their whole hand around his wrist and have their fingers meet, and about how Steve sometimes comes back after a solo jaunt about Brooklyn and just needs to lie down in Tony's lap for a while.

Unfortunately, he's also suffering from the worst case of blue balls in the entire American history. No, scratch that, the entire history of humankind, and animalkind, the entire history of the universe . Hell, he'd gone out and seen a pair of squirrels in flagrante delicto on a nearby tree branch, and he'd been so frustrated he'd pulled on his suit and taken out a whole fleet of robots in the training room.

The two sides of him - the one that's all sappy and pussywhipped and wants to worship and adore the very ground Steve walks on, versus the side making him make a bonfire out of all the Avengers' porn mags (except Natasha, because he actually values his life, despite what everyone says, and he doesn't even know if she has porn mags. Do girls read porn?) - are in huge conflict, and it's driving him crazy. Crazy enough that he's taken to avoiding spars with Steve, because if he has to endure one more chokehold with Steve's very hard, very manly body pressed against the entirety of his back, he will possibly fly to Latveria himself and offer himself as a sacrifice to Doom. Which is not a very welcoming thought, and Tony is sorry he even thought about it.

And of course avoiding Steve never works, because they know each other so well. Instead, Steve has started following him around Stark Tower and hiding outside his workshop to give him heart attacks at one am, with his goddamn baby blue puppy eyes. He doesn't even need to say anything, and already Tony feels guilty.

That's why Steve manages to corner him when he's dragged himself out of his workshop at - surprise! - a perfectly respectable hour to scrounge up some dinner, holding a plate of mac and cheese and touching Tony’s bicep with a gentle enough touch that makes Tony want to scream.

"Tony?" he says, and his eyes are very blue. "Can I talk to you?"

Tony knows he's lost the moment Steve opens his mouth, but he feels the telltale itch in his left ball - the one he gets when he hasn't experienced a release in many days - and suddenly he's resigned to the conversation that will follow. He sighs, and grabs the plate from Steve. At least he won't be hungry later during the inevitable argument, he tells himself, sadly.

He keeps walking to the kitchen anyway, hoping to get a cup of coffee, and slowing down to keep Steve at his side as a concession. Steve looks at him, his eyes crinkling, and oh no, that's not a good crinkle, it's a bad crinkle, and it usually means he's sad about something, and this time it isn't Tony's left ball that twinges, it's somewhere in his chest.

"Tony, you've been avoiding me," Steve says, directly, without preamble, because that's just the kind of guy he is. "At first I thought you were injured, y'know, because you only avoided me when we were supposed to spar, but then I realised you're not doing the same for Clint and Thor and Natasha and uh, I just wanted to ask..." He trails off, and Tony stops. He feels his heart in his mouth (and the macaroni too, but that's a different matter altogether) as he looks into Steve's eyes, and sees them bad-crinkle even further.

"Is something wrong?" Steve finally asks, and holy shit, he must've just bathed, because there's a strand of blond hair so dark it looks almost brown, escaped from his perfectly groomed fringe, and hanging over his eyes. It's adorable, and yep, Tony is totally whipped, because he automatically lifts a hand to brush it away, and immediately Steve's expression softens.

But he's still waiting for an answer.

Tony sighs. Best to get it over with, then. He fidgets with the spoon and can't meet Steve's eyes as he says, "Well, it's not something wrong , per se... Just, y'know, I'm just feeling a little... a little sick. Yeah, that's right. Feeling a little... under the weather. I think it was something Dum-E gave me, that salad he served me the other day didn't look very fresh..."

God, he's such a chicken, and when did he become such a bad liar, because Steve looks totally unconvinced. He steps closer and lays a hand on Tony's forehead instead, and that was such a bad idea, he should've said he'd gotten food poisoning instead, because now he can smell Steve's scent, the smell of fresh pine trees from his deodorant and underneath, that musky smell that is, uniquely, Steve's. Hasn't he read somewhere that if you liked a person's smell, you were compatible, because you had the same kind of olfactory receptors, or something? He tries not to think about it, and focus instead on not spontaneously combusting or ejaculating in his pants or something equally embarrassing.

Thankfully, Steve steps away after a harrowing few seconds, frowning. "You don't feel like you have a temperature, though," he murmurs, and there's so much concern in his voice that, suddenly, Tony feels irrationally annoyed. He's being such a mother hen, God , and usually Tony finds it adorable, but this time he's in a mood, a sexually-deprived, pissed-off mood, and he just wants to hole himself up in his room with twenty boxes of tissues and his Cockyboys lifetime subscription. And meanwhile he has this actual hunk of man-meat all to himself, but he can't touch him - the gods are truly evil. Tony wonders if switching to Norse pagan faith would give him better luck, seeing as how he's currently housing two deities of said faith under his roof, at great personal and financial cost.

His patience finally snaps when Steve produces a thermometer out of absolutely nowhere , and tries to stick it in his mouth. Angrily, he pushes him away, and tries to make excuses for running up to his room, but Steve is having none of it, and really Tony can't be blamed for finally yelling: "I'M ANGRY BECAUSE WE HAVEN'T HAD SEX, OKAY?? Now will you stop bothering me and let me go upstairs so I can jerk off over the one porn mag I have left?"

It's almost worth it for the comical expression of shock on Steve's face, his plump, beautiful lips in a perfect 'o', the one strand of hair once again escaping his fringe to hang over his eyes. Then of course his mouth snaps shut and pinches into an unhappy line, his eyes bad-crinkle even further, and Tony wants to hit himself. God, he's the worst person ever , isn't he? Yelling at Steve when all he'd been trying to do was make sure Tony's okay, taking out his frustration on Steve and bringing up the one thing he knows will hit his boyfriend the hardest. A low blow it was, and Tony immediately regrets ever opening his mouth. This is why people aren't supposed to talk to him when he hasn't had his caffeine, dammit!

He grabs Steve's biceps and, for the first time, doesn't focus on how they feel like the goddamn rock of Gibraltar under this hands. "Look, I didn't mean that," he babbles, frantically trying to erase the past few minutes. If he doesn't remember it, it means it doesn't exist, right? "I just meant, uh, I've been really tired recently and I haven't been able to -"

"To indulge yourself?" Steve interrupts him, and his voice is strangely steady. In surprise, Tony lets go of his biceps, and, finding nothing to do with his hands, lets them fall limply to his sides. Steve is staring down at the ground now, his face expressionless, but Tony knows him - he knows he's thinking.

"I'm just... I'm just afraid," he finally whispers, so soft that Tony hardly hears it.

"Sorry?" Tony says. He can't believe his ears.

Steve finally looks up, and his eyes are burning with anger and frustration and hell, is it inappropriate for Tony to be having an erection right now? Because his dick has taken the train to Bonerland and it sure as hell didn't buy a return ticket. Just imagining that intensity focused on him, in the throes of passion, Steve's strong hands pinning him down as he pounds his ass to high heaven -

"I said, I'm just afraid of sex! With you!" Steve says, and it hits Tony that he's yelling, his face blotchy with anger and his fists balled at his side. "It's easy for you, isn't it, you've done it a thousand times, how could I possibly compare? The farthest I've ever gotten is kissing - with you , I might add - and I'm just a virgin with hardly any experience, how would I know anything about how to please you, and after a while you're going to get bored of me because I don't know how to fuck you properly, and then you'll leave me and I'll just - ugh! " Breaking off with the most eloquent, disgusted exhalation of fury Tony has ever heard, Steve turns on his heel and stomps angrily down the hall towards the kitchen.

Tony stands stock still for a few seconds, his mind rapidly whirring through the deluge of words, before it finally clicks and it all falls into place.

Steve's scared , scared of having sex with Tony, because he thinks he's not good enough, with all Tony's experience, never mind that Tony's had sex a thousand times before, sure, but he can count the number of times he's made love on one hand. Steve isn't going to be a nameless fuck to him, Tony knows he's special , and he curses himself as he realises it's his fault for not making absolutely sure Steve knows it too.

He turns and runs down the hall to the kitchen, where Steve has already disappeared behind the door, pushing it open and fully intending on explaining himself to Steve, when the scene before him makes him stand absolutely still again, for the second time in minutes.

Because there's Thor, and there's Loki, and a whole lot of naked skin, and they're fucking against his kitchen counter .

A voice in his brain reminds him that this is hardly sanitary, but he brushes it aside in favour of looking at Steve, who's also standing there in shock, his hand gripping the table as if he can hardly stand upright.

"Ah, my friends!" Thor booms, and it's a strangely-familiar sound amid the slick noises emanating from Loki's (very pert) bottom. "My brother and I could hear your lovers' quarrel from our positions here. Would you care to join us?"

---

Tony can't move his limbs. Although he's seen a good many bodies in his lifetime - and with many of them belonging to the sexiest stars of his generation and the next - there's just something different about watching Thor and Loki going at it. For one, they're brothers - adopted , Loki always insists, but it never seems to make a difference to the way they treat each other - which adds an illicit touch to the whole affair that makes it just that tad bit more arousing. And for another, it's just unfair the way some people seem to get all the luck. Even though Loki's an evil son of a bitch, there's hardly a blemish on his soft skin, and the smooth lines of his back flex as he writhes and undulates sinuously under Thor's body. He's bent over with his hands braced on the counter, neck thrown back, and Thor pauses in his movements to lean forward and issue a sharp bite to the back of his neck that leaves a bright red mark against the pale skin. In response to that, Loki utters a high, unabashed keen that sends a thrill up Tony's spine, and Steve's too, from the way he shudders next to Tony.

You'd think he'd be embarrassed, but no, the smug smile he gives Tony while he glances at him under his lashes, speaks otherwise.

"Ah, yes, the noble - ah! - Captain, and the - uhh , Thor, harder - and the man of iron," he says, the breathless moans punctuating his sentences. "Quite a spate of good weather we've been having - ohh, Thor, don't stop , fuck, right there - don't you think?" and yes, he's an absolutely evil piece of shit, because it's been raining and thundering like an Indian monsoon every single day the past two days since Loki had joined them, and now Tony thinks he knows why.

Thor grips Loki's hips and adjusts him, his cock driving into him in a way that makes Loki squeal and lift his arm to curl around Thor's head and dig into his hair. Tony can now see his cock, and he's really going at it, driving it like a piston into Loki's bottom, and why can't he look away?

Steve has been standing silent and stock-still for the past few moments, but now he rouses himself and lets go of the table. "But - but - you're brothers! " he cries, his eyelashes fluttering, and Tony has to swoon a little at that. What, he's only a man, a very mortal man, with a very aching hard-on in his tight work pants and surely there's no harm no foul if he just slips his hand down to cup himself for a bit -

"Yes, Loki and I are brothers - "

" Adopted - " Loki sighs, like an afterthought, and Thor gives him a particularly athletic thrust as if to shut him up.

" - but that far from diminishes the love we feel for each other!" Thor booms, again - he only has one default way of speaking. "Actually, we have you my shield brothers to thank for helping us rediscover our love for each other. It was only when Loki came to Midgard last week to greet us that we discovered our passion for each other was beyond that of brotherly love. Loki, say thank you," and he slips an arm under Loki's chest and heaves him upright so he's facing the two of them, and Tony can see the blissed-out expression on his face and his very long, pale, slim cock bouncing with every thrust.

"Thank you, " Loki breathes, his eyes half-shut, the words like a prayer, but Tony swears that he's looking straight into Tony's eyes, and there's a little half-smirk lifting the corner of his mouth. Yup, he's definitely the devil. A devil, actually, seeing as how they've met the actual, literal devil - but really, Mephisto isn't the one Tony wants to be thinking about, right now.

Instead, he moves closer to Steve and grips his elbow, right as Steve says, his face a little green: "You mean last week when Loki unlocked all the zoo enclosure gates and let the animals out into Central Park - when you two disappeared halfway through the fight - you mean you were - "

"Yes!" Thor rumbles, an ecstatic smile lighting up his face, and really, it's not like Tony's never noticed that, objectively, Thor is probably the most attractive member of the team. Because nothing can hold a candle to Steve, his Steve, but this is really doing a number on Tony's poor battered underserved libido, all that rippling golden muscle and the way his hand is moving over Loki's skin, pinching at his nipples and leaving pink trails where his nails have cut into the flesh.

"And we couldn't help overhearing your argument from just now - " Loki butts in, one hand now gripping Thor's hand and guiding it up to clamp around his throat in a parody of the intimate touch Thor often exclusively confers on his brother. Now, his voice sounds a little bit choked, and a lot breathier , but still he continues. "And we were wondering if we couldn't offer some, ah, assistance ."

"Assistance?!" Steve says loudly, and yes, he is turning green, but Tony chances a peek downwards, and it appears that even though Steve is uncomfortable with the whole situation, certain... parts of his anatomy... don't seem as uncomfortable.

"Yes! My brother and myself, having recently discovered the wonders of carnal pleasure in each others' bodies, are of course enthusiastic for the rest of our beloved team members to find the same! Especially for such beloved shield brothers as the two of you, Friend Anthony and Steven," Thor exclaims, with a series of vigorous thrusts that make Loki go "oof - oof - oof - Thor, there, fuck - "

Tony finally rouses himself out of his reverie at these words, feeling that he has to at least try to look after Steve - even though the words leave him shivering with unadulterated lust, especially after the deep growl that rumbles through Thor's chest as he drills deep into Loki and holds himself there. He grips Steve's elbow tighter and attempts to smile without letting on how frazzled he is.

"Uh, thanks for the offer, Point Break, but I think we'll figure it out ourselves - " he says, already ready to drag Steve out of the room where they can go and finish their argument, but to his absolute surprise, Steve rips his arm out of Tony's grip and turns to face him. His eyes are burning again, but this time with a determined expression that tells Tony that he's already made up his mind.

"I want to do it, Tony," he says, decisively. "I want to... I want to learn how to pleasure you."

Tony's eyes widen. "I can do that," he offers weakly. "I know you have your insecurities, but really - "

That was totally the wrong thing to say, and Steve's eyes narrow stubbornly. Instead, he turns away from Tony and strides over to Loki and Thor, who have paused in their lovemaking to look at the two of them. Loki has a speculative gleam in his eye that bodes no good, but still, Tony follows Steve helplessly, caught in his orbit. He only just remembers to set down the macaroni plate, with a tremor in his hands that he quickly stills.

"Tell me what to do," Steve says, and the purposeful lilt to his voice makes Tony adjust himself again. God, he's using his Captain America voice , as if he doesn't know that that drives Tony absolutely crazy - except, well, he probably doesn't.

Thor and Loki exchange glances, then Thor places a hand in the small of Loki's back and bends him over. He takes Steve's hand and places it right there , where Thor's fat cock is half thrust in, the rim of Loki's hole is stretched taut around the expanse of Thor's dark, almost-purple cock. It's obscene, and possibly the most arousing thing Tony has ever seen.

"Can you feel that?" Thor whispers, and the reverence in his voice is startling. Steve nods sharply, panting in quick, short breaths, his eyes half-closed as if he's trying to block out what's happening. Almost involuntarily, his fingers gently caress the stretched rim of Loki's hole, where lube is glistening on the wrinkled skin.

Thor presses down on Steve's hand, and Steve gasps as his finger slips in with a wet pop. His bottom lip is caught between his teeth, as he watches Loki's hole clench and ripple around the unexpected intrusion. That same low growl rumbles through Thor's chest again, just when Loki lets out a hiss of shock that ends in a high-pitched whimper.

"That's right," Thor murmurs. "Finger him. Feel him open under you. Get him wet and open and ready to take your cock. If you press there - " Thor's finger slips in and guides Steve to below his cock, where he presses and makes Loki convulse with the stimulation to his prostate. If Tony was a woman, he'd be creaming his pants right now - as it stands, he really needs to wash his boxers already.

For a long moment, there's only the sound of Thor's cock, and the two fingers, squelching around inside Loki's hole, and the pants issuing from Loki's mouth as he swivels his hips in a desperate plea for more stimulation. Then Steve speaks, his voice breathless and rough with lust: "Is that - is that how you start? Is that it?"

Loki bangs his hand against the table in frustration, finally finding his tongue. "Thor, you imbecile, you skipped foreplay," he snaps, bitingly. "Pull out, pull out, show him from the start."

Thor rolls his eyes, clearly used to Loki being a demanding little bitch, and unceremoniously pulls out. Tony isn't sure what's worse, the unabashed fucking of earlier, or seeing Thor's cock flushed and leaking, and the swollen rim of Loki's hole. And is that beard burn around the swell of Loki's buttocks - ?

With his other arm, Thor pulls Loki up again, the other hand on his hip steadying Loki as his legs threaten to give out. He regards Steve thoughtfully for a few minutes, then gestures to Loki's nipples.

"First, you have to arouse him, bring him pleasure so he will writhe and crave your touch," Thor advises, when Steve looks puzzled. "Touch him at his erogenous zones. Stroke him across his neck, his nipples, his belly, the area above his cock, where he likes it the most - but of course Anthony will have his own preferences."

Steve lifts his hand hesitantly and touches Loki's chest gently, right in the centre of his cleavage, his fingers trailing feather-light over the almost-translucent skin. Loki, already on the edge of orgasm and high-strung from Thor's cock, twists and shakes in agitation. He tilts his head, helplessly seeking, his mouth moving and mouthing soundless words. Thor drops his head and answers with a tender kiss, breathing softly across Loki's lips and mouthing absently over his cheekbones.

Although there is the delicious vision of the two gods' cocks dripping below their legs, and the scratches marking the expanse of Loki's chest, Tony cannot tear his eyes away from the sight of Thor and Loki kissing. The movement of Loki's head had seemed so unconscious, without artifice, a desperate wish for contact, and Thor's kiss so tender and intimate that it makes Tony's chest twist. One glance at Steve's face tells him that Steve feels the same, his fingers frozen and unmoving, his eyes full of desire and wanting and trained on Loki's tongue licking at Thor's half-open lips.

A surge of boldness flows through Tony, and he steps closer, next to Steve, and cups one side of Steve's face with his hand. Steve turns to look at him, and although he is much taller than Tony, somehow the warm glow in his eyes makes Tony feel like the greater one. He pulls Steve down and they kiss, lips moving quietly over each other. Steve whispers something against his lips, and the soft caress of his breath across Tony's skin feels unbearably close. Tony pulls away and, with one swift, suddenly-brave movement, pulls his wifebeater over his head and bares his chest to Steve.

Suddenly, he's glad he bathed yesterday.

Steve's fingers settle on his chest, over the blue glow of the reactor. Tony tenses, wondering if perhaps he's made a mistake - if Steve feels repulsion at the inhumane - thing - he's made himself into - but then Steve leans down, and presses his lips to the scarred skin surrounding the reactor. Tony can't feel any sensation from the nerveless skin, but as Steve lifts his head, eyes sparkling, and says "I didn't expect it to be warm - "

Tony pulls him up and lunges for his mouth. Perhaps it's less of a kiss, more of a desperate, sloppy, desire-filled devouring, but Tony feels an unaccountable warmth filling his body, right down to his fingertips and the tips of his toes as Steve keeps his hand steady on his chest, his anchor. He digs his fingers into the soft golden hair at the base of Steve's skull, and strokes frantically through the fine strands, pulling Steve's body flush against his as if by doing so, he could swallow Steve into himself and possess him fully, underneath his skin and in his heart where he's already wormed himself in.

A soft laugh beside them reminds Tony, suddenly, that they have an audience, and simultaneously, he and Steve turn their heads to regard Loki and Thor. There is a new line of bruises along Loki's jawline, outlining the smirk that pulls Loki's mouth to one side.

"Why don't you take his pants off?" he asks, his voice a bored affectation but belying the sharp, keen interest in his eyes, as Thor carelessly kneads the swell of this buttocks between his large hands and watches them, his pupils dilated. "You do know how the basic biology works, don’t you, Captain?"

Steve flushes a bright red, and for a moment Tony panicks and wonders if Loki's words had been too much, perhaps he's scared Steve off with his brazenness and callous words - but then Steve turns back to Tony, and, miracles of miracles, he starts furiously working at Tony's buttons. Tony could almost weep for joy. A little bitter that he hadn't thought to try taunting at first - but maybe it wouldn't have worked, coming from him - Tony's fingers move automatically to his jeans and help Steve. When the jeans finally come off, and Steve yanks them off his legs, he groans involuntarily, his cock springing out, red and throbbing from the pressure of having been confined in his tight-ass jeans.

"What now?" Steve says, defiantly, the flush still high on his cheekbones, and Loki lifts a dainty eyebrow, as though unimpressed by his bravado. He glances over his shoulder at Thor, levelling the same disinterested look at his partner, and Thor smiles lazily, his eyes hooded. With a violent movement, Thor pushes Loki down onto the counter and holds him there with a strong hand at the base of his spine. Loki arches his back and thrashes a bit, but it looks futile, and he's clearly enjoying it, so Tony just rolls his eyes.

Thor reaches down and picks up a bottle of lube from under the counter, and Tony makes a strangled noise, because that's his emergency kitchen lube, and it's mint-flavoured too, and it's half-empty, goddammnit, it hadn't been like that the last time he'd used it , clearly some people have been very, very busy. He squeezes a generous helping onto Steve's outstretched hands, and his own large, thick fingers, and places them on top of Loki's buttocks. Steve mimicks the action, and his fingers are warm against Tony's skin.

"What I showed you before," Thor murmurs, gesturing a rude gesture with two fingers liberally coated in lube, "do it to Friend Anthony. One finger." And with that, he trails his finger down Loki's crack, a soft caress, and probes in slowly. Loki wiggles his bum, clearly impatient, but Thor stills him with a heavy hand on his hip.

Tony watches as Steve's Adam's apple bobs, as he swallows, and he looks down at Tony's hole with such trepidation that Tony feels slightly offended. So he strengthens his hold on Steve's cheek, forces him to look into Tony's eyes.

"Hey," he whispers, "It's alright. It's just me, okay? Little ole Tony Stark. I want you, any way you'll have me. Any way you want. You can take it slow." At his words, Steve's jaw clenches, and he nods, like he's made up his mind. He smears the lube all over his fingers, makes sure they're thoroughly covered, then places his fingers on Tony's hole and pushes.

Tony gasps. It's been such a long time since he'd been penetrated, he'd almost forgotten how painful - and how pleasureable - it could be. It does feel a little clinical, like he's getting a doctor's examination, with the cautious but determined way Steve's spelunking around, but one look at the adorable furrow between Steve's brows, and Tony's unbelieveably turned on, beyond anything he's ever felt before. The simple knowledge that Steve's pushing beyond his boundaries, beyond what he'd initially been comfortable, just for Tony ... the thought makes Tony want to curl up into a ball and squeal like a girl. Except he'd probably take someone's eye out with his dick, which is already hard enough to hammer nails.

"Does it feel good?" Steve breathes. "I'm trying to find the - the prostate - but I can't really, um..."

"It feels good," Tony slurs. He's going out of his mind, but hell, this is possibly the best way to go. He envisions the headlines: CAPTAIN'S COCK CRUSHES CEO. STARK SACRIFICES HIS ASS FOR AMERICA. "A little bit lower, yeah, yeah, lower... uh, not there... ah!" He jerks as Steve brushes his fingers over the spot, sending a warm thrum of liquid pleasure through him and his cock spitting out drops of pre-cum over his stomach as it bobs.

And all the while, Steve keeps relentlessly at it, his touch starting to feel a little less like Tony's last prostate exam - conducted by Bruce, and hadn't it been awkward . Steve's always been a fast learner, even before the serum, from what Tony's heard, and of course now he has the serum coursing through his blood he's practically a genius, because he's found a way of massaging just so in a way that makes Tony utter a very undignified screech, and clutch tight at the base of his cock so he doesn't spill prematurely. Because that would just be the cherry on the cake, wouldn't it.

When he can finally open his eyes, he realises Steve is staring at him with a rapt expression, awe and lust warring in his big baby blues, and Tony fucking blushes , yeah he does, like a goddamn virgin. Because this is turning him on like you wouldn't believe, being despoiled by his hero, being taken apart slowly by Steve , with his hesitant but sure finger pressing at his prostate, and his other hand stroking up and down Tony's side like he needs to keep touching Tony.

"Can I add another?" Steve whispers, his voice tender, and Tony nods, once, tight, not trusting his voice. Steve draws his finger out and presses back in without giving Tony a chance to recover, just the way he likes it. Tony gasps, because now Steve's scissoring, all on his own, and Tony feels almost proud of him, except that he's too busy trying not to die of a heart attack because of Steve's fingers rubbing against his walls and massaging him persistently. Sue him, he's old, and he has a goddamn heart problem. In fact, if he didn't have the arc reactor in, Tony's sure he would have expired of a heart attack ages ago, because now Steve is breathing fast as he looks down at his fingers and Tony's hole tight around them - pained, short, sharp pants of breath as if he's not getting enough oxygen, and it's the most adorable thing ever.

Steve starts moving his fingers in and out, slowly at first, then faster as he gets more sure of himself, fucking Tony on his fingers. And Tony can't help the whimpers coming out of his mouth, because it feels too good, can't help the involuntary swivels of his hips as he tries to grind down on Steve's fingers. But Steve gives a nervous little laugh, and pulls away - Tony thinks he's been scared off, and looks at him, but he sees a hint of a smug smirk around the edges of Steve's mouth, and he can't help it, he laughs a little too, because under the whole goody-two-shoes exterior Steve's actually a little bit of a little shit. And a fucking tease too, apparently.

Tony feels himself loosening, and he knows he's ready. He wants it, wants Steve's cock, so he lifts his foot and strokes one sinful, long stroke over the bulge in Steve's pants. With his toes, he deftly pulls the zipper down and dips inside, caressing the hot flesh within with his foot. Steve's mouth drops open, and his eyes shut, eyelashes sweeping over his cheekbones like a benediction. And hell yes, Tony does feel blessed, thank you very much.

"You going to give it to me, big boy?" Tony breathes. "Gonna give me your big fat cock? Gonna press me down into the sheets and fuck me rough and hard? Can't wait for it. Can't wait to take your cock." And bingo, he'd guessed dirty talk would press Steve's buttons, because Steve is tearing at his button and shoving his jeans down feverishly like he can't wait to get naked. Tony gives a triumphant smile and a mental high-five to himself.

A moan next to his ear reminds him, all of a sudden, that they're not alone. He turns his head and sees Loki's bright green eyes a few centimetres away from him, his pale skin covered in a sheen of sweat, pink tongue darting out to lick at his lips, as Thor fists him vigorously with his hand. Tony cranes his neck to see because, wow, Thor has really big hands, and when he pulls them out Tony can see the slick glisten from the lube, and the way Loki's hole clings to Thor's hands like he's not willing to let go.

Loki lifts a hand and lays it on Tony's cheek, his mouth curling into a mischievous smile. He thumbs at the corner of Tony's mouth, wipes some of his saliva away, and leans closer.

"You and I are much alike, Tony Stark," he purrs, the rich timbre of his voice like silk. "What say you we taunt the boys a bit, hmm?"

Tony's up for anything, he is, and he returns Loki's grin with one of his own. He's not expecting, however, for Loki to grip his chin withh superhuman strength, and yank him into a deep kiss that involves a lot, a lot, a lot of tongue. Loki moans into his mouth, and God, that sounds a lot sexier that it usually does, muffled by his own lips, and Tony gives back as good as he gets, nipping at the corner of Loki's mouth and tangling his tongue with Loki's.

They're ripped apart from each other suddenly, Loki keening a high, unsatisfied keen, and Tony blinking disorientedly. He looks up and sees Thor's hands fisted in Loki's hair, pulling him backwards and forcing his back to curve into a sleek, sinuous arch that pulls his skin taut. Immediately, Thor bends forward and captures Loki's mouth, swallowing his whine in an angry, vicious kiss. Tony can't look away.

Until Steve curls his arms under Tony's buttocks, and lifts him bodily from the kitchen counter.

Tony yelps, and looks at Steve accusingly, a stinging rejoinder ready, but the words die on his lips as he sees the look on Steve's face. His eyes are dark, blown with lust, but more than anything, with possessive anger and intensity that makes Tony shiver uncontrolledly. There's no more shy virgin in Steve now, that's for sure, especially when he wrenches Tony close and presses them together in a full body caress, pressing their lips together in a greedy kiss. He mutters words into Tony's mouth - mine, mine, mine - and Tony answers mindlessly - yours - and he only vaguely registers being carried up the stairs like he weighs nothing more than a feather, and then finally, into Steve's bedroom.

Steve lays him out on the bed and rips off his own shirt, shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts, but it only serves to make him look like a man in a L'Oreal commercial. Really, his looks should be illegal, it's criminally unfair that he looks the way he does, all fair, freckled Irish skin across his shoulders, the deep vee of his hipbones, the dusting of golden hair on his chest and happy trail leading down to Happyland. As he approaches, Tony grips his deltoid wonderingly, feeling how the muscle stretches and flexes under his hungry, questing fingers.

Suddenly, Steve stops, and Tony sees a strange vulnerability in his face.

"Is it the... is it the muscles?" he asks, haltingly. “Is it the muscles that you - ?” And suddenly, Tony remembers - remembers the boy he'd seen in Howard's memorabilia pictures, Steven Grant Rogers before the serum, a scrawny, weak-looking thing - but still effortlessly, ethereally beautiful to Tony, even if everyone'd been too fool to notice at the time. Vehemently, Tony shakes his head, trembling with the strength of his emotion.

"Steve," he says, instead of all the words he wants to say, and that's enough. Steve comes to him, wraps him up in his arms, and slides home. He thrusts deep into Tony, into his core, until Tony can't tell where he ends and where Steve begins. Steve laves kisses over his jaw, his neck, the tender inside of his wrist, until Tony knows he'll have to wear a turtleneck with long sleeves tomorrow. Somehow, the thought excites him, knowing that only he will know the bruises underneath the fabric exist, knowing that he's been marked by Steve, that he's Steve's .

He can feel his climax approaching, almost a distant afterthought, because he's so focussed on the feeling of Steve, around him, inside him. But then Steve grips his cock with a steady hand and starts working him, and Tony tries to hold on, he really does - but he's not released in a long while, and all too quickly it's over. He spurts, long white strands of cum, all over Steve's hand and his abdomen and Tony's own stomach. Steve gasps at the feeling of Tony clenching around him, in the throes of his orgasms, and it's not long before he follows, a mass of hot, sticky fluid filling Tony's insides.

It's the best feeling Tony's had for a long time, all of it. His head's in the clouds, he feels like he's floating on air, and also Steve's cum dripping out of him is possibly the only thing he wants to feel for the rest of his life. He realises Steve feels the same when he feels Steve probing at his poor overstimulated hole, and although he hisses at the sensation, his hips involuntarily jerk towards Steve's fingers.

"Next time," Steve says, distractedly, like he's not even aware of his words, "I'll buy you a plug. So you can keep my cum in you all day, and whenever I look at you, talk to you, kiss you, I'll know you're full of me. Inside you."

Tony sits bolt upright. "You..." he manages, because where did that come from?? But Steve is looking at him now, fondly, that familiar one-sided smirk curving his lips, and really, the thought of being plugged up like that, full to the brim with Steve's cum, and not being able to do anything about it... Well, it turns him on, and his cock gives one valiant twitch. He lies back down.

They lie there in contented silence for a while, Steve humming an unfamiliar tune, and combing his fingers through the sparse curls above Tony's cock. There's so much Tony wants to say, but at the same time, he can't bring himself to say it. Steve looks at him, their eyes meet, and Tony opens his mouth.

"You think they're still going down there? We're going to have to eat breakfast on those countertops tomorrow, y'know," is what comes out instead, and Steve laughs, a quiet, exasperated laugh. Happy and satiated, Tony closes his eyes, wraps his arms around his Steve, and goes to sleep.

His left ball doesn't itch anymore.

---

Precisely at that moment, downstairs:

Loki draws pictures on the countertop with his and Thor's mingled cum. He traces the outline of Mjolnir, remembers the time last week he'd stretched Thor out and made him sit on the hammer for two hours, loose and wet and wanting, and thinks, we'll have to try that again sometime . Thor is slumped over him, watching him trace his little pictures on the countertop with an affectionate look in his eye, one hand carding absent-mindedly through his hair. It's a bit sticky, and uncomfortable, but Loki decides magnanimously that he'll allow Thor this liberty, just this once.

"That was a good thing we did there," Thor rumbles, in his usual self-satisfied manner. Loki rolls his eyes, but quietly, because he's still feeling generous. With both of Thor's fists up his arse, he orgasmed twice, and he's still floating on the cloud of endorphins, so he supposes he should be thankful to Thor, at least...

In fact, he's still feeling a little randy. His cock is beginning to harden again, where it lies against his thigh, and he knows Thor isn't finished with him yet. Thor's not known for being a fertility god for nothing, he isn't.

"You didn't tell me Tony Stark was quite so good-looking," he sighs, affecting a dreamy air. He feels the air pressure around him drop, the distant roar of thunder outside the windows, and smiles a secret smile. Yes, he knows how to rile Thor up, like no one else can - no one knows his brother like he does. That mortal woman can't even compare. Pity she and Thor used to date, because from the things he's heard of her, he thinks he and her might have gotten on, if it weren't for her unfortunate romantic past with his brother. After all, he is something of a scientist, as is she, but daring to touch his Thor isn't a transgression he forgives easily. He can't count how many past lovers of Thor's he's vanquished, and not only that, how many of these past lovers Thor himself had willingly left, just for Loki. No one can take his place at his brother's side, just as he's unwilling to give up this place he's rightfully earned.

As Thor roughly yanks his buttocks apart and settles between his knees, Loki sighs a satisfied sigh, and turns around to gaze languidly at his brother. There's a twinkle in his brother's eyes that signals that he knows he's being played, knows it, and enjoys it, just like how he'd wrested the truth of his past lovers' 'mysterious' disappearances from Loki and simply laughed the matter off before. How can the puny mortal Tony Stark even hope to compare?

Yes, there is no one but Thor for Loki, and no one but Loki for Thor, thinks Loki hazily, as he buries his face in his arms and loses himself to the wicked pleasures of Thor's tongue.

[daqtranscripts]

Ep. 3 Transcript

Ep. 3 Transcript: Alpine Escape — Chapter 3

Begin:

Sophie: Previously on “Dungeons & Queers”...

[RECAP WITH MUSIC IN THE BACKGROUND]

Sophie: It’s a frigid night in the mountains, and we see a group of assorted humanoids — humans, elves, dwarves and other, less common races — huddled together for warmth inside dome cages made of sturdy wood.

Kenway: Thanks for your stories. What’s your name?

Ellywick: My name is Ellywick Faelover Wandfidget the Ambiguous.

Kenway: My name is Kenway.

Lazza: Are you good at a fight?

Defiance: Is this to be some sort of a jailbreak, then?

Lazza: Hey, if we live through this… I’m Lazza.

Defiance: It is a pleasure to meet you, Lazza. I’m Defiance.

Sophie: Okay, you all quickly make your escape and head down the dark, wooded path, and before you catch up with the rest of the villagers, you see a familiar fresh face in Kenway as he smiles at you and says…

Kenway: I knew you all wouldn’t let us down!

[END RECAP]

Announcer: This show is part of the trans podcaster visibility initiative.

[THEME MUSIC]

Sophie: Hello everybody, and welcome to “Dungeons and Queers,” where the “Whose Line…?” references are made up and the rolls don’t matter! I’m not even trying anymore and it’s, like, the fourth episode.

Credence: [GROANS] Where the introductions should be re-recorded…

[LAUGHTER]

Credence: ...and… [BREAKS DOWN LAUGHING[]

Mara: ...Where Sophie should put some thought into a pun before it’s time to record the pun.

Sophie: Yeah. Well.

[COUGHS]

Mara: I hope this isn’t, like, indicative of the rest of this arc. [LAUGHING]

Sophie: Does anybody have a pencil? No, I have a pencil.

Credence: [IN A SOUTHERN ACCENT] I brought my supplies!~

Sophie: I was prepared!

Credence: [CONTINUING SOUTHERN ACCENT] I’m ready for school!~

Sophie: Okay, um, so! [SIGHS] Basically, I have a little bit of reading to do, which I thought was a good place to start this off, and then I’m going to introduce a new mechanic to you all! Which you are not going to appreciate!

Mara: [WEAK CRY]

Credence: [RETURNING TO NORMAL VOICE] I had a feeling… You didn’t have to… You didn’t have to do that.

[LAUGHING]

Mara: [SARCASTICALLY] For me? You shouldn’t have.

Sophie: Yeah, well.

[CROSSTALK OF CREDENCE AND MARA BEING SARCASTIC TO SOPHIE]

Sophie: I wish you would not have. Yes, yes. Anyways… Before we get started, I want to let the fans know that — I wanna remind everybody, I guess — that this is a d/Deaf-accessible podcast! We do have transcripts, and if you are looking to help make that happen, in return, I am willing to give you early access to these episodes! So if you’re craving, wondering what is gonna happen, get in contact with me via email or Twitter or something like that, and we will talk and, basically, there’s a Google Drive folder with some files in it that I can share with you, and basically you can listen to the episode early with the understanding that you are going to contribute to the transcription. Which basically just means you type what you hear! And the format of it is pretty clear if you’re on there, so if you’re interested in helping out with that… I know that our d/Deaf fans would really appreciate that, and, you know, there’s even some non-d/Deaf folks that would probably appreciate it too. I mean, whenever I watch a movie, I always have the subtitles on, you know.

Credence: Yeah!

Sophie: And there’ll be times when I’m listening to podcasts where they’re audio dramas and there was so much sound going on, and they had, like, people talking through a crackly speaker, and I was sitting there like, “I need to look up the fuckin’ transcript because I can’t tell what this garbled audio is supposed to sound like, is supposed to be saying, and it was plot-relevant.”

Credence: Yeah! I mean, I… I have sensory processing disorder, and that can… Podcasts are actually one of the few things that helps with that for me, because it’s mostly visual stimulus that makes it very difficult for me, but I know for other folks, like, being able to just focus on something without any kind of visual component is incredibly difficult. So there are so many reasons why it’s nice to have these, and I’m really glad that we are committed to making this accessible, and folks who are willing to help are fuckin’ radical! And...also you get to listen to the episode early, but if you leak ANYTHING… [LAZZA VOICE] Lazza will find you.

[LAUGHTER]

Mara: And honestly, sometimes we’re just garbage podcasters and the crosstalk is unbearable, so, you know.

[VARIOUS AGREEMENTS]

Credence: Oh, GOD, yeah. We’re doing pretty good…

Sophie: Yeah, we’re doing okay! It’s a little hard, because three of us are talking into one mic, so there’s not much I can do when some of us start crosstalking. I can…

Mara: Build a crosstalk spray bottle. “NO! BAD!”

Sophie: Yeah, if the problem is Credence, then I can just silence Credence’s audio. I think that only happened just once, where, like, Joe was making a really funny joke and Credence was laughing too loud, and it was like, “I’m just gonna ~tweak~ this out.” But typically, the problem isn’t just Credence. But we’re actually looking into…

Credence: Thank you! I appreciate it!

Mara: We’ll just get a little spray bottle and you can spritz Joe or I if we’re being naughty.

Sophie: But anyways, we’re actually looking at getting involved with a local artist co-op that has a podcasting studio in it, so if our sound quality suddenly improves at some point, you’ll know that we’re involved with them, ‘cause they have really, really incredible setups there. But anyways!

Joe: It’s a marvel what people can do when they actually pool resources and get together and help one another.

Mara: WHOOOOOAAAA…

Sophie: Yeah, well, I mean, I’m an anarcho-communist, so…

Joe: Same.

Sophie: I’m all about this artist co-op, like…

Mara: [SARCASTICALLY] Nah, co-ops aren’t good.

Credence: It’s fuckin’ radical. I’m super jelly of the setup that you guys are gonna be able to check out.

Sophie: Yeah, the only downside is that it’s mostly volunteer work, which means the wheels turn slowly, so they built this wonderful space because people are very motivated when it comes to building things and buying things with grants, but they haven’t put an online signup sheet to use it yet, to like, use the space, so like… I can’t use it yet even though it’s there and it’s just sitting, empty, and I keep emailing the guy but he hasn’t emailed me back, so we’re just waiting for the wheels of unmotivated artists to turn there.

Credence: Before we get started, should we talk about ways to get in contact with us?

Sophie: It’s all on the cover art of the podcast.

Credence: Like, I don’t know, do you folks wanna share your personal Twitters?

Sophie: Oh yeah! We should go around and say our name and pronouns and reintroduce our characters and stuff like that and, you know, who we’re playing, our characters’ pronouns, and then if you wanna be like, “And my personal Twitter is @this,” or whatever, we can do that. So, my name is Sophie Lastnameredacted, I am the DM, so I’m playing a whole bunch of characters, although only one that’s been introduced right now, his name is Kenway. And basically, you might know me from the “PolyAM Radio” podcast, where we talk about polyamory and unconventional, young, queer, trans relationship styles and stuff like that — it’s a blast, you should come check it out if you haven’t — and my pronouns are she/her/hers!

Mara: Uh…! I’m Mara Sunshine, I use they/them pronouns, I am @marasunshine2 on Twitter, and I am playing — and I have to break out this full name, it’s never gonna get used, ‘cause it’s unwieldy, but I’m a gnome — Ellywick Faelover Wandfidget the Ambiguous. More names to come, I’m sure. They are a bardic gnome or a gnomic...bard…? I don’t know. And they also use they/them pronouns.

Sophie: Joe.

Joe: I am Joe Alias, my pronouns are they/them/she/hers. And I play Defiance, who...same pronouns, they/them/she/hers. Defiance is a tiefling war cleric. I don’t have a Twitter as of yet, but if I eventually set one up, I will let y’all know.

Sophie: I will say that the Twitter app is actually excellent at managing multiple accounts. Like, it’s not like Tumblr, where it’s like, you have to completely sign out, and…

Joe: Boo!

Credence: Tumblr’s the worst, that blue hellscape.

Joe: Ain’t that the truth.

Sophie: Credence?

Credence: Yoooo! Okay! My name is Credence It-Has-Nothing-to-Do-With-Clearwater-Revival. My pronouns are he/him and I play the character of Lazza the half-orc barbarian. Lazza’s pronouns are she/hers and if you wanted to reach out to me on Twitter, my handle is @aliensatemybaby.

Joe: Nice!

Sophie: Of course it is.

Credence: Yup. [LAUGHS] Gotta stay on-brand.

Sophie: Yeah, yeah! Okay…

Mara: Real quick — is that supposed to be like “dingoes ate my baby?”

Credence: Oh, you bet.

Mara: BLESS.

Sophie: Okay! Um… So… Now that we’re ten minutes into this recording…

Credence: Ah!

Sophie: Let’s actually play some fucking D&D!

[ALL SAY “HELL YEAH” IN VARYING FUNNY VOICES]

Sophie: Okay, so, where we left off, the villagers had gone — had been rescued and had gone down that path and you were going down the same path to follow them. Kenway had waited back behind for you—

Mara: What a good boy.

Sophie: Yeah, what a good boy. He is the Resident Good Boy™, like three baby golden retrievers stacked on top of each other in a trench coat.

Joe: What!

Mara: Bless!

Credence: Lazza does not trust him.

[LAUGHTER]

Credence: Just so everyone knows.

Sophie: To be clear, is that because Lazza has a thing about dogs, or just because…?

Credence: He is a CHILD! You did talk about how he is a HUMANOID CHILD, so I don’t know why this has anything to do with DOGS—

Sophie: Just ‘cause I described him as a puppy-dog of a person.

Credence: No, just kids.

Sophie: Oh, okay.

Mara: See, and Ellywick is just, like, “YES.”

Sophie: “Yes. Good.”

Mara: “YES. GOOD. My people, but not.”

Credence: “I can look you in the eye.”

Mara: Yeah, right?

Sophie: Yeah!

Mara: “You have a lot more whimsy than the average human. Cool. We’re good here.”

Sophie: But anyways, the four of you kinda run ahead, and Kenway leads you to where this group of people is sitting, huddled and cold, in the forest, and you all make way for — basically, there’s a local village that some of them have heard of called Northpass Haven, and it’s famed as kind of a frontier-style town, but very...it has a long history of being attacked by orcs and stuff like that and surviving. So it’s the kind of place that if you were to bring an orc horde to their doorstep, they wouldn’t necessarily bawk, just in case you all are pursued. So these villagers follow their shepherds, you three, on this cold night, as beings do when they correctly identify their only hope for survival. With little protective outerwear, these prisoners move slowly and begin to falter in the face of the relentless mountains.

You now face a terrible choice — allow the group to stop and find shelter for the night and risk losing the head start you achieved by killing the orc guards and making the orcs think they were under seige and close up and bar their doors, or you can continue on and risk the deaths of some of the older and younger villagers due to exposure and cold. Make your choice and inform their fate — drive them on or find shelter?

So basically, this is a new mechanic that I told you about that you all will not appreciate. These villagers are relying on you, but at the same time, you are all trying to make your escape as well, and you have to decide, basically — if you stop for the night, you will take a long rest, you will gain all your health and your spell slots (not that you all have taken much damage) but I can also...if any villagers die will be based on the survival checks that you all make, and there will be a much better chance that no one will die, versus if you continue on, you will lose some of the villagers, but you will maintain the head start that you’ve gotten, which means that you’ll probably...orcs probably won’t find you.

[GROANING AND MUTTERING]

Credence: I’m really glad that I got a proficiency in survival now.

Mara: See I know how Mara the person wants to play this, but I think Ellywick could go, really, either way with this, which kinda sucks. Perks of being chaotic neutral, I guess. So I think… I guess, question one, how are the villagers looking?

Sophie: As I said, they’re not really dressed for this. This wasn’t really an expedition that they were prepared to make, and a lot of them had had their outerwear stripped of them. So they’re looking kind of bad off. Most of them look like they could keep going, although they’d be very miserable, there are some older and some younger folks who don’t look like they’re doing so well, but basically, they’re all looking to you for instruction.

Credence: Okay, should we be… I almost think that, like… Mara, what you said, like, you wanna do versus what Ellywick would do is kind of...there’s some discrepancy there, so I almost feel like it would be better to talk about this in-character…?

Sophie: Yeah, absolutely, I think this is a conversation that needs to happen between characters.

Mara: Ye.

Sophie: Especially because, like I said, your alignment should inform your decisions, but it shouldn’t ever — in my mind — totally restrict your decisions. Because I mentioned in the intro episode, I think, there was literally a Star Wars expanded universe novel where Darth Vader stopped Emperor Palpatine from killing a Twi’lek orphan, and he’s a classic lawful evil character, so like, going against authority and stopping the slaughter of an innocent isn’t really Vader’s MO. And he went on to do more really gruesome things after that, but his gut reaction was still “no.” And there are reasons for that — there are character reasons, because Vader is a very conflicted character. I’m not even gonna say he’s an overly-compelling character, but he is a conflicted character.

[SOFT CHORUS OF AGREEMENTS]

Sophie: So, you know, this decision could be informed… To use Lazza as an example, Lazza’s not a “good” character, Lazza’s a neutral character. Lawful neutral. But if part of Lazza’s code of honor is you’d never leave anyone behind or something like that, then that could inform this. So I want you all to think creatively outside of your alignments, like, “Oh, I don’t know, I’m neutral, ‘cause an evil character would just leave them behind and a good character would maybe stay with them.” You know, a good character in this case might also leave them behind just because, it’s like, “Well, we have to protect as many people as possible, and we have the orcs behind us, and if we stay, we might not survive.” ‘Cause I will say, in the morning, they are gonna notice you’re gone and they’re gonna send people after you. That’s not me as a DM giving you hints or anything, that’s a conclusion your characters have probably made. So I think this is absolutely an in-character discussion, and I am super excited to step back and listen to it!

[CHUCKLING]

Sophie: Sorry about the sniffling, by the way, everyone. We all have colds.

[LAUGHTER AND CONFIRMATIONS]

Ellywick: So… What do we do, guys?

Lazza: Ah… Shit. Well, Ellywick, how many of ‘em are getting too slow to keep up a decent pace?

Ellywick: I… I don’t know…

Lazza: You’re a cleric, right?

Defiance: Um, that would be me, actually.

Lazza: Sorry. Sorry! I just met you guys.

Mara: All magic users look the same to you! [LAUGHING]

Lazza: [EMBARRASSED SPLUTTERING]

Credence: [VERY QUICKLY] #NotAllMagicUsers!

Lazza: Okay, Defiance. How many of these folks can’t keep up a good pace?

Credence: [STAGE WHISPER] Can we do, like, a medicine check or something, DM?

Mara: God, are you there?!

Joe: Yeah, why not? Do you think medicine or perception?

Sophie: I think perception, ‘cause medicine is your ability to heal them.

Joe: True. [ROLLS DICE VIOLENTLY]

[SOMEONE BLOWS A RASPBERRY]

Mara: Ooh!

Credence: Did you throw a rock?!

Sophie and Mara: You might as well have!

Sophie: It’s a critical miss.

Joe: Wow.

Credence: It’s because you threw a rock.

Ellywick: Um…

Lazza: Okay, so, fuck! At least they’ve got heads!

Defiance: Yeah, I don’t know! They’ve got heads!

Sophie: They seem cold to you, that’s what you got.

Mara: [ROLLS DICE VIOLENTLY]

[PAINED LAUGHTER]

Credence: Did you also roll a critical miss just now?

Mara: I did!

Joe: Holy cow!

Credence: You cannot rely on Lazza here!

Sophie: It’s kind of dark and hard for you to tell.

Mara: Naughty corner!

Credence: Dice shame! Okay, Lazza’s gonna roll perception here. [ROLLS DICE GENTLY] Okay, sloppy dice.

[INDECIPHERABLE MUMBLED CROSSTALK]

Joe: You already said we’d kinda notice the fact that people are stumbling.

Sophie: Yeah, but you wanted to know how many are gonna fall behind and stuff like that.

Joe: Oh!

Credence: [ROLLS DICE GENTLY]

Sophie: What’d you get?

Credence: Agh! I’m sorry, I keep getting sloppy dice! [ROLLS DICE GENTLY] Well, I got an 8, which is better than fuckin’ everybody else!

Sophie: It seems to you like there are about maybe a fourth of the people who are so young or so old that they’re having trouble keeping up. That is not to say that you will lose a fourth of them tonight, or something like that, that is just saying that, you know… It is a considerable number of people that are going to be hurting bad if you do it, if you continue on. And I’ll tell you, I’m factoring in — I’ve got, basically, in my head, kind of, with this — factored in the fact that you have a cleric and stuff like that and the cleric, aside from burning actual spell slots, is going to be trying to use cantrips to heal and stuff like that to keep people going. If you want to use spell slots on them, that’s a choice that you have to verbalize to me, and that might change something or whatever, but you will also lose those spell slots. So… I’ve got some of those things that y’all are talking about factored in already.

Lazza: Okay. So it looks like a fourth of them are really struggling.

Ellywick: You know, I don’t think it makes much sense to free all of them from those cages just to let them die out here.

Lazza: Oh, I don’t—! Look… It’s… The path to Northpass Haven is treacherous on its own. We don’t have any supplies. We don’t… We’re gonna lose people. So if we make sure we, I don’t know, get as many people…

Credence: So Lazza’s kind of like, conflicted right now. But she keeps playing with this pouch around her neck where she keeps these stones…

Sophie: Yeah, sure, sure.

Credence: And she’s just kind of… She pauses for a second, and then…

Lazza: What about this — we send the people who are doing the best up ahead. Y’know, the path is hard, but it’s easily marked. They’ll be able to make it. They won’t have to worry too much about tracking it. But what if we send the folks who are doing the best up ahead and we stay back with the folks who are struggling and try to get them on their feet a little bit better, and then, if we get some ~visitors,~ maybe we can get some supplies out of them.

Defiance: [SURPRISED] I don’t think that’s a bad idea, actually! Especially if there’s some way…

Joe: I guess I’m a little bit curious. Since we did free that group of elves, too, do any of them have any knowledge or ability to either track or help us to better hide?

Credence: Or heal?

Sophie: So basically, what I had envisioned for this is that, kind of all of these — even the elves — are civilian elves, basically.

[CROSSTALK]

Joe: Not particularly woodsy?

Sophie: Yeah, yeah. They’re not like… One of them is a barrel maker, and one of them is a potter, and one of them is a carpenter, one is a candlestick maker, yeah, sure. You know, innocuous, everyday jobs that, even in the forest, groups need.

Credence: Okay, well, that aside…

Lazza: So what do you guys think? Ellywick, what do you think? We stay back with the folks, we try to work on getting them on their feet a little bit better, heck, we could even try to backtrack and ambush some of the orcs as they’re coming and trying to look for us. We could get some supplies out of ‘em. I mean...I dunno.

Ellywick: I, ah…

Defiance: Do you know if it’s typical for them to all come at once or to send, first, a scout or two?

Lazza: Well, I mean, each...everybody had their own smaller raiding party. So, you know, there’d be...four to six people.

Credence: Sophie, I’m trying to base this off of what I thought I remember you telling me last time?

Sophie: Yep! Yep!

Credence: But, um, okay…

Lazza: So it’s — and especially with terrain like this, it’s easier to travel quickly in small numbers… As we know here, this isn’t going exactly great. They’ll probably be sending out parties of… I wouldn’t say more than six or seven. Which, if we can get the drop on them, we might be able to get some stuff so we can at least clothe the folks who are struggling the most and give a head start to the folks up the path.

Ellywick: But what happens if the orcs go after some of these people?

Lazza: I mean…

Ellywick: Then they’re even worse off.

Lazza: Well, no shit, Sherlock! But like...being dead sucks!

[SOFT SNICKERING]

Defiance: The general idea, if I understand you correctly, Lazza — either way, if the orcs went toward the healthier people, they’ll find us first, and they’d have to get past us.

Lazza: Exactly. [STAMMERING] We give, we give ‘em a jump start and we can focus on hiding these folks who are struggling, try and get ‘em a bit better, and-and hopefully, by-by-by ambushing these guys, we can, you know, we can get some clothes, at least, for ‘em.

Ellywick: Alright. We can try it.

Defiance: If we can at least give the weaker amongst them a bit more rest, perhaps I can try to heal some of them, or at least give them some sort of medical attention… Mayhaps they’ll become just strong enough to eventually catch up with everyone else.

Ellywick: I can help a little with the healing too.

Defiance: [PLEASANTLY] Oh! That’d be much appreciated.

Lazza: [ENTHUSIASTICALLY] And I can carry at least, like, two kids! So, like…!

[LAUGHTER]

Ellywick: You do that!

[INTERMISSION — INTERLUDING THEME MUSIC]

Sophie: Hello everyone! Welcome to the middle of the show! My name is Sophie Lastnameredacted and I am here with...the ads! Sorry.

So we don’t have anyone who’s taken out an ad on the show yet, which is totally fine, but I just wanted to remind everyone that we are offering ad slots starting at just $5/episode. These are some great opportunities to get your book or online shop or podcast or whatever you want immortalized.

I also want to talk to you all about our Patreon. The link is on your cover art, and we have reward levels starting at just $1/month, and it would really help us out if you could donate, because, actually, we are considering going weekly with our episodes! And it would really help to have a little bit of financial assistance in doing that. That’s a really big undertaking, and it’s gonna take a lot of work from the people doing the transcripts and the person editing the audio — me — and that would be a huge help if you would consider supporting us! I’ve mentioned in previous episodes what the rewards are, and I’m sure I’ll talk about it again eventually, but right now, I just want to keep it brief as I can for this episode, ‘cause there’s some cool stuff coming up that I really want y’all to get to!

I wanted to take a moment to thank Acqua Toffana, our current only Patron, thank you so much! I also wanted to remind everyone that if you Tweet about the show using the hashtag #DungeonsAndQueers, you might get an NPC named after you. We’ve got some NPCs, not so much in this episode, but coming up in the upcoming episodes, that are named after some people who Tweeted about the show that are probably gonna become pretty big parts of the campaign! As long as the characters don’t go murder-hobo on them. We really appreciate your support, we would appreciate it if you could tell at least one friend about us this week, because we did not have the money to advertise, so if this is gonna take of, it’s gonna be by word of mouth.

I also wanted to mention real quick — I mentioned transcripts earlier, and if you’re interested in helping us continue to make this podcast d/Deaf-accessible, then join us and become part of our transcription program! You’ll get access to early episodes and a bunch of other cool stuff — well, I shouldn’t say “a bunch of other cool stuff” — you’ll get access to early episodes, and you’ll get my eternal gratitude and you’ll be part of our little group that’s working on it. It’ll be really cool and fun, and you’ll be part of, you know, making media for people who communicate a little bit differently, which is always an excellent thing.

I also want to give a shout-out to kenwaylights, who is transcribing this audio right now. I am eternally grateful for you, you are absolutely the best, and I just want everyone to know how amazing you are.

I think that’s everything that I wanted to get through! Next episode might be up next week, depending on how quick we can get through ‘em. We’re gonna do a little bit of experimenting and try going weekly with our episodes for a little bit and see if that works, see if it’s doable for us. If we do decide to do that, there may come weeks where we occasionally skip uploading an episode, and I’ll try to let y’all know on Twitter when that happens. It’ll generally be around things like exams and stuff like that. But right now, we have a pretty big back-catalogue. As I’m editing this audio and everything, we’re actually already into the second arc of the show, which is really exciting! But I want to get these episodes out there so people can listen to them, and hopefully support our show!

So, yeah! Just thanks a million, and I hope you’re enjoying this content… Ooh! And one more thing that I wanted to mention — so, generally speaking, in Dungeons & Dragons, when adventurers go adventuring, they’re not necessarily fleeing captors, they are going into dungeons and finding loot and things like that. And, you know, certainly we’ve had an unconventional start to this podcast, and I’m not gonna necessarily say that the rest of the podcast is gonna be totally conventional, but I will say that there are gonna be times where I want loot for them to be able to find! And I think that having them find 100 gold pieces or whatever is useful in utility, but I don’t think it’s as interesting from a storytelling standpoint. So that’ll certainly happen, but I also wanna lay down really cool magic items and artifacts for them to come across at various points in time.

So if you’ve got a favorite magical item in D&D, whether or not it’s a homebrewed item, send it to us by email or on Twitter or whatever! Just email or Tweet at us! And it might very well end up in the show! I’ve got an interesting mechanic that I think is gonna be, maybe, introduced at the end of the second arc, maybe? In between the second and third arc as far as a way for the players to pick some of their own magic items and stuff that they wanna buy, because I don’t wanna make it too accessible within the story where it doesn’t make sense, but I think that part of the fun of D&D is having really cool, useful, and sometimes a little bit broken, items that enrich the story. So if you could help us out with that, please please please, it would mean so much. We’ve already gotten a few suggestions on Twitter, but if you’ve got more, please send them to us.

So thanks a lot for listening, next episode will hopefully be up next week and...don’t date your best friend’s dad and don’t date your dad’s best friend? No, that’s the wrong podcast! I will talk to y’all later! Bye!

[END INTERMISSION — INTERLUDING THEME MUSIC]

Sophie: Okay, so explain to me, in a sentence, what you all are doing.

Mara: We are sending the stronger people ahead and we are staying back for a long rest with the people who are not doing quite as well.

Sophie: Oookay! Take a long rest. Cool.

Mara: Can you give me back my pencil that you absconded with?

Sophie: This was from my backpack…

Mara: Oh! Someone absconded with my pencil! Hmm. Oh! Never mind.

Credence: I feel like Lazza is looking kind of pleased with herself at this point. ‘Cause, like, last time her plan wasn’t great, and it seems like this plan was a little bit better?

Sophie: Yeah, she completely sidestepped my moral quandary, so.

[LAUGHTER]

Credence: That’s what you do when you’re Lawful Neutral!

Sophie: Yeah, well.

Credence: Um, uh… I was gonna ask something, and now it’s just gone. Never mind. Oh, actually, yeah! How are the villagers reacting to Lazza at this point?

Sophie: I think they’re… I think that a good deal of them are trying to keep a healthy distance, but a lot of them are probably looking at you with more confusion than with outright fear. I… You know, more confusion than outright fear, and they’re not like...it’s kinda like Defiance’s situation, where they’re not thrilled about you, but in this instance, they’re glad you’re here. Do you know what I’m saying? Does that make sense?

Credence: Mhmm.

Sophie: Like, you’ve kind of proven yourself to them.

Credence: So, do we need to roll, like, survival stuff to see if we can keep— Well, okay, first of all… Mara, Joe, do you think it’s better for us to have them...like, should we find a place just off the path a little bit where we can hide them?

Joe: Yeah, I think so.

Credence: And then we can rest and kind of patrol the path.

Mara: Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.

Credence: Okay, I’m gonna roll — hold on. Would investigation or survival…?

Sophie: I think, um… Survival, we’ll say.

Credence: To, like, find a good spot and see how many survived, or do we do separate rolls?

Sophie: Um...no, I think just one is fine.

Credence: Okay.

Sophie: ‘Cause your survival is going to be, in this case, dependent on your ability to find a place.

Credence: Right. [ROLLS DICE] Uh… Well, that’s gonna be a 16. It’s not terrible.

Sophie: Okay! Yeah, you are able to find a...it’s not super well-hidden or anything, so it’s not really a place you can stay, but you’re able to find a cave, and hole up in there for the night. And I think with a 16, you said?

Credence: Yes.

Sophie: I think with a 16, I’m gonna say none of the villagers die that night, but they’re not magically energized in the morning or whatever. Like, this did them well, and you didn’t lose anyone, but a good night’s rest wasn’t exactly had by all, and even if it had it wouldn’t have been...these people probably need days to recover.

Joe: Does it aid at all if I use a medicine check?

Sophie: I was kind of factoring in that you would make a medicine check, but if you want to make a medicine check, that’s fine.

Credence: Well, and like, I mean, they’ve got better rolling for that than just me doing one survival check.

Joe: [ROLLS DICE] I got a 24.

Credence: HOLY SHIT.

Joe: [FUNNY VOICE] I rolled good!

Sophie: I think with a 24, you… Again, with a roll that good, they’re better off in the morning than they were, but again, this is putting a Band-Aid on a pretty big cut in this metaphor.

Joe: Before the long rest, would it be possible that maybe I can make an assessment and see who’s the worst off and use cure wounds?

Sophie: Again, I think with these people, part of the problem is they’re young and old, and that’s not really a condition that you can alleviate.

Joe: Gotcha. Okay.

Credence: It’s exposure, like, there’s no wounds. It’s just…

Sophie: Yeah, exactly. Mmkay, actually, so… You’ve got about 30 of the villagers go on, and about 10 of them stay with you, including Kenway. And… [HUMS TO SELF IN THOUGHT] Yeah! So now you all are taking a long rest; you regain any spell slots you spent, everybody’s up to full health, and we are gonna take some time to have some conversations. Is there any conversation that y’all wanna have with each other, or…? If you say no, that’s fine, I’m not expecting you to say certain things or whatever, it’s just that this is an opportunity to get to know each other if that’s what you think your characters would attempt to do.

Mara: I think Ellywick probably wants to try and figure out Lazza, at least a little bit, ‘cause like...it doesn’t really make sense, you know?

Ellywick: So, not to be rude here, but um...you seemed like you were pretty good buddies with those orcs back at the keep, there… Why are you running away?

Credence: So I’m picturing them, they’re kinda sitting around the fire, and Lazza was maybe kinda sitting off by herself before Ellywick came to join her.

Mara: Probably, yeah.

Credence: And she’s got the stones that were in her little pouch, she’s got them out in her hand now and is rubbing them together.

Lazza: Look, the point is, I got you out of that mess. What more is there to it?

Ellywick: Well, I’m a sucker for a good story, and that seems like a pretty interesting story. If you don’t wanna talk about it, that’s fine, but...I dunno, we’re sitting here, so you might as well tell me.

Mara: Should I roll, like, a persuasion or something?

Sophie: Ah, if Credence thinks you need to.

Credence: Uh… You know what? Yeah, I think you do.

[LAUGHTER]

Mara: Oh no, you’re gonna let the bard roll persuasion.

Credence: Well, what am I— Would this be a contest, DM, against my…?

Sophie: Yeah… We’ll say it’s a persuasion versus a wisdom check. Not a saving throw, just a check.

Credence: Okay.

Mara: [ROLLS DICE, PAUSES, BURSTS INTO RAUCOUS LAUGHTER]

Joe: Ooohh…

Credence: Oh no. What?

Mara: Nat 20, so…

Credence: Yeah, that’s not going anywhere!

Mara: 25 when you add in my modifier, so…

Credence: Yeah, no, no. I get it.

Lazza: Well, I was born in a cabin, and…

[EVERYONE BURSTS INTO LAUGHTER]

Credence: No, no.

Joe: Entirety of my life story.

Mara: Right?

Lazza: Well, I’m glad you asked. So…

Mara: Breaks out into a big musical number. Ellywick’s, like, entranced.

Credence: [SINGING A TUNE] No. I think Lazza just is staring into her hand for a second.

Lazza: Look, I know it’s easy to think that all orcs just act like that, but I just… I couldn’t do it anymore.

Ellywick: Well, why’d you do it in the first place?

Lazza: I didn’t have anywhere else to go.

Ellywick: I can understand that. Well, uh… I’m glad you made the right choice, Lazza.

Lazza: Yeah. Well, we’ll see. We might get killed in a lot worse ways. I think… I think I’m glad I made the choice, too.

Mara: I think Ellywick kinda takes out their sword and leans on it, and is like, “Well, I’ve got this bad boy over here, so, ah…” [CLICKS TONGUE RHYTHMICALLY]

Lazza: Yeah, you also have the ability to make somebody fall over in hysterical laughter, which, by the way, that was fucking terrifying! And I think I should let you know, I don’t really trust you! So…!

Ellywick: [NONCHALANTLY] Eh, don’t worry about it! I won’t use it on you unless you piss me off!

Mara: And they kinda grin up at you.

Sophie: I don’t think Lazza’s comforted by that…

[LAUGHTER]

Mara: Probably not!

Credence: Lazza just kind of closes her fist around those stones and puts it back into the little po— the little satchel, and, like, very, very intentionally walks across to the other side of the fire…

Mara: I think…

Credence: ...and lies down very far away.

Mara: I think Ellywick knows about the “gnomes will steal your teeth in your sleep” or the “gnomes will steal your teeth” superstition, and they kinda call after Lazza—

Ellywick: Be sure to watch your teeth tonight!

Mara: And they don’t mean it at all, they’re just fuckin’ with Lazza at this point. Just a little mischievous shit.

Sophie: Just an awful person.

Joe: Christ…

Credence: Lazza, like, doesn’t say anything, but she...purposefully pulls her axe closer to her, like she’s holding it like a stuffed animal…

[ERUPTION OF LAUGHTER]

Mara: Great. Yes. Good.

Joe: I sorta think that, like, if this were a video game, a little thing would pop up in one of the upper corners saying, like, “Lazza will remember that.”

[LAUGHTER]

Credence: Lazza will not forget that. Um, thank you, that was a wonderful interaction.

Mara: Oh, yeah, yeah. [GIGGLING]

Credence: I don’t know, is there anything… I think… It’s not because I don’t want our characters to get to know each other, it’s just like, Lazza’s not...particularly, after having just done this escape thing, and like, now being responsible for her ex-captives’ safety, I think she’s just kind of… She’s not in a sharing mood.

Joe: Right. I think for their part, Defiance is...pretty busy with trying to tend to all of the people. It’s not so much that they’re ignoring anybody, they’re kind of making themselves busy.

Mara: I, um… I think Ellywick can kinda tell that — and after that conversation with Lazza — I think they can kinda tell that, like, Defiance is obviously busy and doesn’t wanna talk, and Lazza really doesn’t wanna talk, and Ellywick’s okay with that. But I think they kinda just take out their pan flute that they were able to conceal on them, and they sigh sadly, and they go…

Ellywick: Well, it’s not Tania’s lute, but I’ll go back for that someday.

Mara: And they kinda glance off into the distance and they have this little murderous glint in their eye because it’s their goddamn favorite lute. But they take out their pan flute and just start playing some songs.

Sophie: Yeah! Um, before you start playing, you hear a voice from behind you meekly say…

Kenway: What’s a lute?

Ellywick: You don’t know what a lute is?

Kenway: No. I’ve never seen one before.

Ellywick: It’s a, uh…

Credence: Who’s talking?! I’m sorry.

Sophie: Kenway.

Credence: Okay.

Mara: I think Ellywick… I have to stop saying “I think” before every goddamn sentence! Ellywick takes out a stick and kinda draws in the dirt the outline of a lute and then the strings and everything and goes…

Ellywick: It’s a musical instrument, and this one was pretty special. It was given to me by a fae queen who I spent some time with.

Sophie: Yeah, I think Kenway kinda sits down next to you, and says…

Kenway: Well, I know what it’s like to have things you don’t want to lose.

Ellywick: Oh yeah? Why’s that?

Kenway: Well, I… I’m not an adventurer, and I’m just a kid, but you’re a bard, and your lute helps you do magic and stuff like that and it protects you, and you protect it. And I’ve got something similar.

Ellywick: What is it?

Sophie: He kinda looks around and then, kinda satisfied that no one else is really paying attention or around, he pulls out this large gold coin that doesn’t really have the mark of any currency you’ve ever seen on it; it’s not just a gold piece, it’s...akin to how you might look at a silver dollar now, where...you could probably get something for that, but nobody really uses it as money.

Mara: Mm.

Sophie: You know what I mean? And he says…

Kenway: Well, this was my dad’s, and he gave it to me before he died. He told me that as long as I have it, it would keep me safe. And things haven’t been perfect, but...when I look at what’s happened here, I have to believe that this thing is keeping me safe and got me rescued and got y’all not to leave me behind.

Mara: Ellywick kinda smiles and puts their arm around Kenway’s shoulders and is like…

Ellywick: Well, I’m glad you have that coin there.

Sophie: So I think Lazza actually sleeps uneasy, just because she was hoping to have some sort of contact with her ancestors by having this big, important thing.

Credence: Right. Also I think we’re taking turns doing the watch and stuff.

Sophie: Yeah, yeah. And as Ellywick is by the fire, gently playing the pan flute, Lazza kind of drifts off to sleep, and…

Mara: Joke’s on her, Ellywick’s bewitching them! No. [GIGGLES]

Sophie: So as Ellywick is playing the lute—

Mara: [FAKE-ANGRILY] PAN FLUTE.

Sophie: Pan flute, pardon me…

Mara: They don’t HAVE their lute!

Sophie: No they don’t.

Mara: Wonder who did that.

Sophie: Yeah, well… Probably God. So, Ellywick is playing their pan flute and Lazza is drifting off to sleep, and actually, in your restless dreams that night, Lazza, you hear the pan flute in your dreams, which is probably unsettling. But actually, at one point, and I think probably Lazza doesn’t know her musical instruments very well, but at some point, it changes.

[GENTLE HARP MUSIC]

Sophie: Instead of the light, airy sound of a pan flute, it turns into this beautiful, melodic strumming noise, and it sounds like strings being plucked. And it’s harp music. And the dream suddenly becomes very vivid. You don’t really see much of anything, it’s mostly colors and shapes and feelings, and you hear this harp music, and in the midst of this vision, you hear voices whispering… This cacophony of different voices, which, normally, I think when you hear your ancestors, it’s maybe two or three voices intermixed, very few, but this is all your ancestors are all reaching out to you at once with one phrase, three words.

“Trust the harper.”

“Trust the harper.”

“Trust the harper.”

“Trust the harper.”

Credence: This is really cool…!

[LAUGHTER]

Credence: But wouldn’t it be “harpist”…?

Sophie: Nope.

Credence: Okay.

Sophie: “Trust the harper.” The voices swell a little bit, and maybe you hear one voice in particular that’s like, [VICIOUSLY] “Trust the harper!” And you wake up with a start.

Lazza: Ah!

Sophie: And Ellywick is still playing the pan flute, and I think…

Mara: I think they kind of look over, though, like…

Sophie: Yeah, like, Ellywick stopped playing the pan flute and is like, “You okay?”

[LAUGHTER]

Lazza: What the hell is a “harper”?!

Ellywick: You know, I’m not too familiar with harps. That’s not my bag. But I think a harper is someone who makes the harps.

Lazza: [GROGGILY] Okay… I’m gonna go scout for a little bit.

Credence: I think Lazza wants to get away from this music as quickly as she can, ‘cause she’s a little disconcerted that something that felt like it was involving her ancestors got mixed up in the music of a bard. ‘Cause now she’s not sure if she was bewitched or not, I guess.

Sophie: Okay! Sure.

Ellywick: Have a good patrol!

Lazza: [GRUNTS]

[LAUGHTER]

[OUTRO — THEME MUSIC]