#I’m still looking to see what kind in particular. but I am figuring that out

[still-got-no-idea]

questions :3 1- Whens your birthday [dd/mm] [[<-the only reason i remember america has [mm/dd]] is because the teacher gave us a lecture lol]] 2- What time period would you want to live in? You can choose future or past for any length of time 3- Do you have any headcanons ? [utmv or other] 4- What made you want to choose human services? Any specific jobs in mind ? 5- Do you have any music reccomendations [im not sure if i asked this one yet but the more the merrier lol]

1) July 15th (15/7)

2) I… don’t really know. I never really thought about it. Maybe something like the 1980s-1990s, since that would probable be around the time where I’d have to know how to do certain things to make certain parts of technology work, and I honestly really do feel like it would be good to do that so that I just kinda know these things, at least

3) not really lol. I only ever really come up with things like that when I’m writing certain things, but it’s not really something that’s ever come up in my brain in any sort of obvious way

4) I wanna be some type of therapist. That’s… about it, really. It was a job that I kinda wanted, so yeh

5) genuinely the only music I’ve been listening to for the past several months is just Will Wood so I don’t have anything other than just Will Wood in general-

[weirdsht]

Hi first of all i just want to say that I love your fics and second may I request a flirty workaholic reader x cale where the reader is isekaid to lofcf and told cale about it so the reader became the right hand person of cale who loves flirting with him anytime anywhere😙😙🤣🤣 but the story focuses on cale being curious how will the reader act to other people who is not part of the calefam, just someone who is a stranger. So he then disguises himself as a stranger to meet with the reader (who is experiencing day off the first time since becoming a servant because she argues that seeing cale's face, serving and flirting with him is what she considers as rest but the others didn't allow it this time since they are worried and tired of always seeing the reader work)

Then the reader 'accidentaly' bumped into disguised cale whose name is Bob and they became friends so nowadays the reader will set a little bit of their time once a week to meet with her new friend and cale is becoming jealous of his disguised self because the reader is always telling him about what she and 'Bob' does with so much joy in her eyes

Best Friend Bob - Cale/Reader

notes: thank you for liking my fics! Also, I'm not that versed in writing flirty personalities so I'm sorry if its bad huhu

tags: female reader, assistant reader, fluff, they didn't get together in the end sorry, but you can imagine that they did

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are open and welcome

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“You’re sending me away? Do you not want to play with me anymore cutie?”

Cale grimaces at his fellow transmigrator’s words. He should be used to the flirting right now but for some reason, he still isn’t.

“It’s been years since you had a day off. You still work even when everyone is slacking off.”

“Just looking at your face is enough rest for me.”

_____ winked at him and Cale turned away.

“Anyways take this time to explore or something.”

“You wound me, but since you insist…”

With that _____ takes a day off for the first time since she transmigrates into this world.

‘What am I even supposed to do the whole day?’

_____ has always been an introvert and a home person even before she got sucked into this novel. Sure, at first she was curious about her new surroundings. However, she felt like she had seen enough since Cale was always on the move.

“Maybe I flirt with him too mu– owww”

The girl stopped in the middle of her mumbling as she bumped into a guy. He looks plain, but there’s this air around him that screams rich.

“I’m so sorry”

“Oh no, I should be apologizing. I wasn’t looking where I was walking.”

_____ waved her hands at the unnecessary apology from the man. She felt guilty that this poor guy was saying sorry when she was the one walking with her head in the clouds.

“I’m sorry for bumping into you. As an apology maybe I can treat you to something?”

The woman offered to the stranger. This particular looks familiar but at the same time, she’s sure she has never seen him before.

“If you insist. I know a great cafe around here. We can have some tea there.”

And so the two of them had tea at _____’s insistence.

“My name is Bob. What about you?”

‘Okay now this is suspicious’

_____ thought before quickly introducing herself to Bob.

‘Hmm, who could this be?’

She’s not an idiot. Bob is a rare name in this novel. It might have looked like it was common because of all the times Cale and his friends used it.

But there was only one recorded person who was named Bob.

Well, based on the novel none of the enemies ever disguised themself as Bob so _____ deemed it safe for now. However, they are extremely curious as to who could it be.

A few hours pass, Bob and _____ have become friends while exploring the town together. The woman is still suspicious and is trying to figure out Bob’s real identity but aside from that she thinks his pretty good.

“How was your day off?”

Cale asks as soon as he sees the workaholic enter the villa.

“It actually went great, I made a new friend.”

“Really now?”

The redhead inquires further, interested in his assistant’s social life.

_____ told Cale all about what happened the whole day. From how she met Bob to where they last went. She told him everything except for the part where she felt suspicious about his identity. 

…Of course, Cale already knows all of this.

His Bob afterall

A few hours ago he had asked Raon to give him a disguise. Something that _____ had never seen before so she would not recognize him.

Why one might ask?

It’s purely for experimental reasons. _____ kept flirting with him that he wanted to find out if she’d do the same to others.

Results showed that she doesn’t.

But they also just met so it might change.

So Cale continues befriending her under the guise named “Bob”. As he does, they surprisingly become good friends. It’s also good that the assistant now takes regular days off because of their meet-ups.

“I’m getting tired of this…”

“You’re tried human? How about we go rest for the day? We can’t get you sick because you’re tired!”

It was another friend's date with _____. They have been friends for about a month now but the girl still acts the same.

Meaning, that not once has she flirted with Bob.

Sure, she’s more comfortable with him but the way she acts with Bob and with Cale are so different.

Does this mean that his just special?

Cale isn’t sure.

But his tired of having to switch between identities when he's not even getting money out of it.

Okay, maybe he was a little jealous of how close Bob and _____ have gotten.

It doesn’t help that his assistant every single detail of what happened while looking all happy and excited.

However, no one needs to know about that.

But as much as he doesn’t like the current situation he continues it. It’s because he enjoys the look of happiness etched onto her face whenever they hang out together.

He just wishes that smile was because of Cale and not Bob.

“Bob, by now I think we can consider ourselves as good friends right?”

_____ asked one day while the two of them were eating street food after roaming the market.

Bob nodded his head in agreement. Inside, Cale rolls his eyes because how can she be so close to a guy she just met a month ago?

“I see. So who are you? Choi Han? Wait no that guy sucks at acting…”

Seems like the cat is out of the bag.

Cale would usually be irritated that someone saw behind his plans. However, he has been thinking as to how to put a stop to this so it’s beneficial for him.

At that moment

“Raon”

He states and the black dragon undones the magic alterations done on him, revealing his real appearance.

“Now, young master Cale why would you do such a thing? Did you not want me to go out of your sight so much? You only need to ask and I’ll stay with you 24/7.”

_____ winks flirtatously. Meanwhile, Cale just shrugged his shoulders. Indicating that he has no plans of sharing his plans with her.

“But seriously, did you through all this hassle just to make sure I take my day off regularly? Or did you find my social circle lacking?”

“No _____! He was jealous at how you and Bob got so close!”

…Okay maybe Cale should have briefed Raon about not exposing his feelings in front of _____.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Paradigm Shift 5

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you get transferred to a new position but it’s hardly a breath of fresh air. (plus!reader)

Characters: Loki, Bucky Barnes, this reader is known as Billie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

“Mr. Laufeyson, your matcha and the notes for the morning’s meeting,” you set down the cup and hold out the sleek black folder with his initials on it. 

He ignores the tea and takes the briefing without thanks. You assumed as much but it does make you wonder who raised him. His brother wasn’t like this so it’s a bit of a surprise. 

“Anything else, sir?” You ask. 

He glances at the cup and tilts his head, “you went to Garcons.” 

“Yes, sir, I made not of the preference.” 

He offers no prize for that. He simply shrugs and opens the folder. You nod and turn on your heel. As you cross the office, a figure darkens the door. You slow as Barnes tilts his head at you. 

“There you are, Billie,” he greets, “coffee?” 

“On my desk, I was just going to bring it to you--” 

“I need it after the weekend I had,” he stays in the door frame, blocking your escape, “what a coincidence that we would run into each other, huh?” 

“I guess,” you stiffen in discomfort. 

“Did you enjoy your drinks?” Barnes asks with a dimple in his cheek. You scrunch up your lips as his eyes twinkle. He knows what he’s doing. 

“You two... had drinks?” Laufeyson asks. 

“No,” you insist and angle back so you can see each from the edge of your vision. “We ran into each other. I was with friends.” 

“Ran into each other. Mm, well, let’s not play favourites, yes.” 

You almost scoff. You went a full extra block to get his stupid green latte and he thinks it has anything to do with preference. You prefer to deal with neither of them. You nod, “of course, sir. I’ll get your coffee, Mr. Barnes,” you twist on your heeled boot, “and your daily brief.” 

“Thanks, doll,” he sidesteps to let you past him. You can feel his gaze follow you. 

“Are you in here for anything in particular?” Laufeyson snips tersely in your stead. 

“Yeah, business, bud,” Barnes retorts, “let me close this.” 

The door shuts and you march off. You grab the coffee and other folder from your desk and retrace your steps down the hall. You enter Barnes’ office and lay it out on his desk. 

Quickly, you retreat. You’ll be happy enough to hide at your desk as they go upstairs for the monthly managerial review. You’re hoping Odinson can keep them past the scheduled block. You don’t like Mondays. 

You sip your coffee as you sort through emails and direct them in the right direction. Barnes is more of the face-to-face one but Laufeyson is the numbers man. They have an interesting dynamic on paper. As you reply to a few errant requests, you hear the door open but ignore it. 

Barnes’ shadow looms down the hall before drifting into his office. A message pops up on your screen. It’s him. 

‘Thanks, doll. Coffee’s still hot.’ 

A thumbs up will suffice. You did your job. Amazing. 

Another message. Laufeyson. You switch chats. 

‘You will attend the meeting with myself and Barnes. Keep the minutes.’ 

Sigh. Alright. You type back. ‘Yes, sir.’ 

No response. Barnes’ turn, ‘holding out for Friday night?’ 

You huff and roll your eyes. 

‘Sir, I am focusing on my work. Did you require some assistance?’ 

You hear him snicker and the response pops up, ‘got it. All business. Shoulda known with those boots.’ 

You don’t reply. You shut out Teams and go back to sorting through communications and arranging the calendar accordingly. You don’t get much done before a strutting gait approaches. You look up as Laufeyson appears. 

“You’re acquainted with my brother,” he says. It isn’t a question. 

“Yes, sir.” You pull your hands back from the keyboard. 

“You will be certain to keep him from talking my ear off then.” 

“Uh, if that’s what you need--” 

“It is what I’m telling you to do. We’re due in five.” He shows his watch. 

“Coming,” Barnes emerges, smoothing his jacket as if he could hear his partner’s chiding. 

“Yes, sir,” you stand up and grab your notebook and pen. 

Laufeyson is halfway to the elevator before you get around the desk and Barnes is right on your heels. As you pass through the bullpen, you notice the hunches in response to their presence and the nervous glances. The energy is grey like rain. 

You stand at the elevator between the men. Laufeyson tuts and Barnes thumbs through his phone. He tucks it away as the doors open. They don’t move. 

“Ladies first,” Laufeyson insists. 

You don’t argue. You step on and they follow. 

The turn and stand shoulder to shoulder with you behind them. Laufeyson checks his watch once more and Barnes wiggles his fingers at his side. They let out a long exhale in unison. 

“Tell me again how you’re related to this guy,” Barnes snorts. 

“Adopted,” Laufeyson sneers. “Please, you will suffer him for an hour, I have suffered a lifetime.” 

“Ah, is that why you have that stick up your ass?” Barnes nudges him with his elbow. 

To your surprise, the other man snickers. 

“Only to match yours, Barnes.” 

You glance between them curiously. They both are so stringent on their own and yet with each other, there’s a measure of respect? Recognition? Commiseration? Like everyone else in Logistics, they’ve been sentenced to purgatory. It is a fleeting human moment. 

“Should I point out the oaf’s mistake or would like that pleasure?” Laufeyson intones. 

Barnes shrugs, “will it make a difference? We’ll just be cleaning up another mess next month.” 

They speak as if you’re not there. You suppose you’re not significant enough to worry about. Hell, you don’t mind one bit if the heat’s off of you. 

[intheticklecloset]

Stressed (Dr. Stone)

Modern AU

Summary: Senku loses his notebook and immediately blames Gen, but Gen is innocent for once. After recovering the notebook, they both realize they're a little too stressed out and could use some relief.

Word Count: 1031

~~~

“Asagiri!”

Gen froze, stunned to hear his last name being shouted from the other room like that, coming from Senku of all people.

He immediately began backtracking in his mind as to what he could have possibly done to make him so mad.

The scientist clomped down the stairs and into the kitchen, looking – thankfully – more exasperated than angry. “Where did you put it?”

Gen, still panicking, stammered, “W-What do you mean? Put what where?”

“My notebook!” Senku cried, gesturing behind him as if that would explain everything. “All my equations and experiment notes – where did you hide it?”

“I didn’t—”

“Cut the crap, Gen, I’m not in the mood for this today!”

Gen went silent, frozen in terror. He’d never seen Senku so frustrated, let alone angry enough to actually snap at him. He didn’t know how to handle this version of his boyfriend. Quiet Senku? Yes. Shy Senku? Absolutely! Rambling on and on about something Gen didn’t understand Senku? Of course, he was no amateur.

But angry Senku? He had no idea.

As the silence stretched on, the scientist seemed to realize he’d gone too far. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “It’s just…I’m so close to cracking this one. I need my notes to take the next step, and I know you stole them.”

“I didn’t steal anything,” Gen said quietly. “Not this time. I swear. But…maybe I can help you look for it?”

Senku considered him for a moment, then seemed to decide his partner was telling the truth and sighed heavily. He turned to go back upstairs. “Sure, whatever.”

Gen silently followed behind him, beginning to search together with the scientist. He knew exactly which notebook he was referring to; it was the one he’d been obsessively scribbling in for weeks now. The blue one. The problem was, there were a myriad of notebooks in Senku’s lab, and finding this particular one was like finding a needle in a haystack.

But Gen was determined to prove himself innocent.

It took nearly fifteen minutes, but finally Senku made a frustrated noise and said, “Here it is.”

Gen turned and sure enough, the blue notebook was clutched in the scientist’s hands. Judging by where he was standing, it had to have found its way over to Senku’s shelf of completed projects by accident.

Well, as long as it was found.

“See? I didn’t steal it.” Gen shifted on his feet nervously, rubbing his palm with the opposite thumb – a habit he’d picked up for when he was stressed.

Senku, being Senku, noticed immediately.

“Look, I’m…I’m sorry, Gen,” he said, setting the notebook on his table and moving to join his partner by the door. He took his hand to stop his tic. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I just know that you like to steal the things I’m working on when you want attention, so I assumed…”

Gen smiled weakly. “It’s okay. It was a logical conclusion.”

“I was a jerk just now. I’m sorry.” Senku gently brushed his lips over Gen’s knuckles, making the mentalist blush. “Maybe…maybe we should have some kind of code word for this situation next time. Something that tells me you’re not kidding when you do the ‘I didn’t take it’ bullcrap.”

Gen couldn’t help but smile. “A safe word for when I’m messing with you?”

Senku nodded. “Something like that.”

“Just let me know what it is when you figure it out, Senku-chan.”

The scientist groaned and pressed their foreheads together, wrapping his arms around Gen’s waist. “I don’t deserve you.”

“I know. But you’re stuck with me anyway~”

“Can I make it up to you? I really am sorry.”

Gen hummed thoughtfully. “I forgive you, Senku. But perhaps I can turn that frown upside-down?”

Senku tensed, but made no move to escape while he could. Instead he let out another sigh and chuckled softly. “How can you read me so well?”

“I’m a mentalist,” Gen whispered, hands sliding from his boyfriend’s chest to his sides. “That’s my job.”

The scientist broke into a smile as Gen began scribbling, softly tickling him over to the bed and pushing him down, fingers dancing and teasing his skin, drawing light giggles out of the younger man.

“You’re too stressed, my dear Senku-chan,” Gen half-teased, leaning down to kiss his cheeks as he tickled gently.

Senku tried biting his lip to suppress his snickers, but it did no good when Gen slipped under his shirt to scratch at his bare tummy. He twisted his head to the side, blushing furiously. “I knohohohohow. I cahahahahan’t hehehehelp it.”

“Lucky for you, I can~”

Times like these were rare, and Gen cherished them with all his heart. Senku’s stress levels getting so high he couldn’t resist the allure of being gently tickled back into a happy, clearer headspace. One of the only times he wouldn’t fight it; he’d just let himself relax and giggle and be loved until Gen had given his nod of approval that all was well once more.

This time took a bit longer, but finally Gen hummed his satisfied hum, and Senku gripped his wrists to push him away – a silent indicator he was done.

But then Gen took his wrists instead and pinned them to the bed, leaning down to kiss Senku’s neck, relishing in the surprised squeak the scientist let out.

“Wahahahahait, Gen,” he giggled, legs uselessly kicking the open air. “I thohohohohought you were dohohohohone!”

“Done bringing you down to Earth,” Gen confirmed, kissing the shell of his ear and whispering, “but not done showing you my undying adoration, Ishigami.”

Senku full-body shuddered at the name, a low groan escaping his lips even as he kept scrunching his neck and giggling at the light kisses to his neck. “Plehehehehease…”

“Hush.” Gen kissed his lips then, releasing his wrists to run his hands up his stomach to his chest, taking his shirt with them. Senku’s arms wrapped around his back and pulled him closer. He tilted his head back and soaked up every bit of his partner that Gen was willing to give.

And for Senku, Gen was willing to give his all.

[youmakemyhearthowl]

The first time Steve went with Robin to a gay bar in Indy, he got a lot of education on the queer community from a group of Drag Queens. They were so pleased to run into a straight man at a gay bar that was there to protect his lesbian best friend that they answered all of his questions he’d asked. Even if a few of them were pretty convinced Steve was some sort of queer and just hadn’t gotten around to figuring it out yet. 

The biggest thing that seemed to stand out to Steve was the hanky code. It was such a cool way to let yourself share this super secret part of yourself with the world without the dangers that actually sharing it would cause and Steve was enamored. 

One particular Drag Queen, Helen, knows most of what the different colors mean and Steve can’t stop himself from asking about every single one of them.

When they get back to Hawkins Steve feels truly educated and Robin just smirks knowingly at him as he rambles on about everything he learned. He’d told Robin a few weeks ago he thought he might also like guys but was still figuring everything out. Robin was just happy he was willing to learn, even if he decided men weren’t for him. 

Everything sort of spirals quickly after that. 

Steve and Robin are at work when Dustin comes barreling into the store with Eddie Munson in tow. 

“We need Rocky Horror Picture show right now.” The demand is sharp, and Steve just rolls his eyes at the teen.

“Not that I’m judging or anything Dust, but what do -you- need with that movie?” Robins voice cuts across the store from where she’s restocking returns in the romance section. 

“We have a theory about Mike we want to test.”

“You have a theory about Mike you want to test.” Eddie cuts in hoping up onto the counter and crossing one leg under him. Steve’s pretty sure he stops breathing for a second. Because right there in his left pocket is that stupid black hanky that Steve never really paid attention to before, but now his eyes lock on.

“Steve!” Robins next to him now shoving him out of the way of the register so she can check out Dustin, and Steve’s still just kind of frozen in place because, Munson’s into some kinky shit and he’s not entirely sure how to bring his brain back from the rabbit hole it’s just dove down.

“Stevie, are you still coming over for movie night with me and Buck?” Eddie chirped climbing down off the table to follow Dustin out the door. Robin looked from Eddie to Steve, trying to figure out what exactly broke her best friend, when her eyes land on the hanky and she has to hide her laugh with a cough.

“Yea, he’s coming. He’s my ride anyways. We’ll see you at 8 Eddie.” With a nod and a questioning glance in Steve’s direction Eddie throws open the front doors and skips to his van as Dustin clamors into the passenger seat.

“Hey, Dingus.” Robin slides in front of Steve, a shit eating grin spreading across her face. “Learn anything new just now?”

“Holy shit Robin, how am I ever even supposed to -look- at him again.” He groans throwing his head down onto his crossed arms on the counter.

“He’s still stupid Eddie.”

“Stupid Eddie who likes to tie people up and administer pain in the bed room. Fuck.” Robin could see all kinds of gears turning in Steve’s head. Dots connecting, pieces falling into place until suddenly his face turns bright red and he stands up straight again locking fearful eyes with Robin.

“Oh my god Robin. I think I wanna fuck Eddie Munson.”

Robins laughter was so loud, Eddie could hear it all the way in the parking lot.

(inspired by @undeaddisillusion ‘s post found here)

[honkytonk-hangman]

Just Another Thing – [1]

Walt 'Finn' Finnegan x Reader/OC

Summary: God help anyone who might've thought a nice, stable relationship might bring some kind of change to Walt Finnegan's usual mischief and mild-hedonism. God especially help them if they also thought a girlfriend would provide any sort of calming influence over him.

She definitely influenced him, anyone could tell you that, unfortunately just never in any way that could even remotely be described as 'calm'.

Warnings: cussing, mentions of and talk of sex, sexy body parts, ect. reader/OC is named Kimberly/Kimber, but it is still written in second person and her name shouldn't come up very often.

Notes: oh boy oh boy oh boy you have no clue how excited i am for this fic. it's literally been in the works for over a year. i'd even go as far as to say it's my fave fic in recent memory!!! Im not sure yet how many parts, but the story does have a beginning and end.

It's not necessary to have watched the film before reading this fic, as this is set in the year after, around 1982, however certain character dynamics could be confusing. Also i definitely headcanon Finn and Beverly becoming good friends, hidden beneath a layer of exasperation of course but he is definitely the type to go to all the theatre stuff like come on look at him!!!!!

okay enough from me now heres the fic I really hope you enjoy!!!

You register the alarm on your friends’ face’s far too late to do anything, and the next thing you know you’re clutching the crown of your head, a dull throbbing ache now pulsing under your fingertips.

It wasn’t an entirely unfamiliar sensation, you’ve been hit in the head by a ball plenty of times, but the sheer weight behind this particular impact stood out to you. That, and you knew it couldn’t have been the volleyball you and your friend’s were playing with, because you currently held it.

“What the fu–” you begin angrily, already whipping around in the direction you’d been hit, cutting yourself off at the sight of an approaching man, a look of genuine remorse painted on his features as he jogs toward you. Behind him, a group of guys with baseball gloves watch on with various cringing expressions. Just as the man nears you, his eyes subtly travel up and down your figure, his lip quirking with approval, but he keeps his face apologetic. He comes to a stop several feet away, where the baseball had landed, but doesn’t take his eyes off of you, placing his hands on his hips and lifting his chin at you.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he says, and it at least sounds sincere. “Roper’s never had much of an eye.”

You purse your lips, but try not to look too angry. He was cute, you realise dumbly, still rubbing your head. Dirty blond hair settled in light waves at the top of his collar, a matching blond moustache groomed neatly above his upper lip. He was tall, broad across the shoulders and chest in a way you’d only ever really seen on guys who worked out, athletes and the like. He also looked a little older than a lot of the students you’d see walking around campus, and he certainly didn’t approach you with the confidence of a freshman, so you figure he must be at least an upperclassmen.

“Well, maybe y'all should work on that with him,” you grumble lightly, and drop your hand.

“You okay?” he nods at your head, and you shift to lean on one foot, not missing the flicker of his eyes to watch as you do, or the way he lingers on your rapidly rising and falling chest before he meets your eye again.

“Isn’t the first time, certainly won’t be the last. Hair probably won’t sit right tonight, though,” you complain.

“Big date?” he asks, the teasing tone unmistakable. You lift your chin a little indignantly.

“I’m sure your day is just riding on my answer, but I don’t feel particularly inclined on telling you that,” you huff, heart rate doubling when he laughs, looking away from you for the first time as he grins widely.

“Well, how about this,” he starts once he’s sobered, bending down to swipe the baseball from the grass, taking a step toward you as he does. “The next time I see you, I promise you won’t get hit in the head,” he waves the ball as if you need reminding, but takes another step closer. “And you tell me what night works best to take you out?”

You fail to hide the amused smile that pulls at your lips, but then again, you weren’t really one for playing hard to get. You can see now that he’s only a few feet away, that his eyes are a startling green, and you think you wouldn’t mind running into him again, sans head injury.

“Alright,” you tell him, stepping back with a nod. “Next time.”

It takes all of your will power to turn away from him and move back towards your friends, though you feel his eyes on you for some distance, and make sure you swing your hips just a little more than you usually might.

Part of you regrets not making plans then and there, but the other part of you shivers at the already building tension of your potential next meeting.

Squinting at your reflection in the mirror, you flip your feathery waves once more over your shoulder, before almost immediately letting it fall back where it was. Just as you’d predicted, thanks to the decent-sized lump on the crown of your head, your Jerry Hall blowout was looking less supermodel and more super-odd.

Scrunching your nose as you mess with your tresses one last time, let out a huff, and force yourself to turn away, just in time for Nancy to appear at your open door, her curled fingers tapping gently on the wood.

“Hey Kimber,” she begins, pausing to give you a whistle as you exit your bathroom and do a twirl for her. Your collared halter-neck jumpsuit was supposed to be worn with a ruffle-neck blouse, but you’d never intended to style it that way, not to mention it was tight enough that you’re not totally sure you’d even be able to fit said blouse beneath it anyway.

“Something’s telling me Miss Texas ‘56 didn’t have this particular ensemble in mind when she ordered this for you outta her fancy lil’ Saks catalogue…” Nancy teases. You roll your eyes.

“Saks don’t do catalogues.” you correct her with a faux air of haughtiness, but don’t bother to contend her point. All of your housemates were more than familiar with your former Beauty Queen mother, despite never having met her. The monthly ‘care packages’ she sent you, filled with various ‘in season’ (see: frivolous) items of clothing and ‘essentials’ spoke volumes about who exactly Mrs Charlene Wynne was. That mostly just amounting to ‘eternally neurotic but well-meaning’. 

Nancy pokes her tongue out at you and scoffs out a laugh.

“Whatever, the point is; Mama doesn't always know best. You look foxy!”

You let out a laugh and smooth your hands over your thighs, thanking her softly.

You weren’t at all oblivious to the way you looked. Certainly you were no Raquel Welch, but most days you could manage something in the realm of Christie Brinkley or Cheryl Ladd, which was pretty damn good. You had your mother to thank for that, though your dad was no slouch either, but considering your mother couldn’t walk ten steps without someone recognising her from her Miss Texas win almost thirty years ago, you’ll give her most of the credit. As a result of your parent’s contributions, you’d become aware fairly quickly of the effect you tended to have on men, especially College men.

“Did you need me for something?” you prompt after a few more moments of Nancy preening over your outfit, remembering that she had come up here with a purpose some minutes ago now. Nancy blinks, before she makes a soft gasping sound, and straightens up.

“That’s right! Beverley arrived a little while ago, she was asking for you!” she informs you, waving her hand in the vague direction of the stairs and the party quickly coming to life on the first floor.

“I’m coming now!” you tell her, giving your hair one last flip before you move for your door, closing it behind you and quickly following Nancy as she all but skips. 

The ‘little’ get together had officially started a little while ago, but you’d had a study group that had run long, meaning you were now fashionably late to your own houseparty, if there were even such a thing.

Almost immediately once you crest the lower steps, you feel yourself shift into focus, totally in your element now, a cool, easy smile finding a place on your features. It isn’t difficult for you to move through the light throngs of people, despite your arrival not going unnoticed by those around you, but instead of excusing yourself meekly past distracted conversationalists, you’re liked enough that partygoers both consciously and subconsciously make way for you, plenty of familiar faces greeting you warmly in passing as you go.

You aren't surprised to find the kitchen milling with guests too, though the music is a little quieter here, so you figure it will remain more sparsely populated until later in the night, when everyone is comfortably tipsy.

“Kimberley!” A female voice calls out, perhaps a little too loudly, but you’d come to expect as much from anyone deeply involved in theatre.

“Beverly!” you match her energy, volume and all, knowing that she was likely already feeling a little out of place among the other guests, who were all mostly part of the College’s various sports teams and who you suspect weren’t even aware there even was a theatre program.

You can’t stop yourself from grinning ecstatically, overjoyed to see your friend for the first time since classes had commenced for the year. However, you feel more than you see the redhead that collides with you, her much shorter frame crashing into yours with a comforting force, and thanks to your non incosiderable height, as well as your many years playing volleyball, you hardly even budge from the impact, even in your chunky platform heels. You quickly hug Beverley in return, but far sooner than you’d like, she’s pulling back and launching into what sounds like a planned monologue.

“Okay! So, you know how ages ago I said I was going to set you up with one of Jake’s housemates from the baseball house?” Beverly starts, already waving her hands expressively, her expression bright and excited. You search your mind, but honestly, you aren’t sure if the conversation sounds familiar or not. You’d had a lot of people say similar things to you throughout your college career so far. Most of the time they were totally off-base matches, but you were always happy to experience new things, new people.

Beverley doesn’t wait for your reply though, clapping her hands and rubbing them together.

“Well, of course the team was invited tonight, meaning I can finally introduce you!” she exclaims, looking wildly over her shoulder, as though the person in question was supposed to be just behind her. When she sees an empty kitchen, she frowns and purses her lips. The glimmer of annoyance is wiped from her face by the time she’s looking back at you, and she huffs good-naturedly.

“I told him to wait for me…” she links your arms as she speaks, and you happily let her lead you to the kitchen door, where a light bubble of conversation floats through from outside. You have to let out a laugh at her sheer excitement, which appears genuine, though not in her usual manner. 

The usual manner meaning that every so often when the two of you found yourselves at the same club or bar, whenever she or her friend’s were being bothered, the pretty redhead would giddily inform you that she had someone she wanted you to meet, then standing back and watching gleefully as you casually sapped up the creep’s attention, only to bluntly shoot him down and send him off. 

You don’t get the feeling this is one of those times, but from what you knew of the baseball team, you very well may have to do some shooing on your own behalf tonight.

Outside on the tiny back-deck, a small group of people had gathered and right away your brain sparks with familiarity, though you have very little time to consider this before Beverley is releasing your arm and stepping forward. She smiles brightly as she sweeps between you and a man who turns around as if on cue.

“Finn, this is Kimberley Wynn! Kimberley, this is Finn! I am almost certain that the two of you will get along famously,” Beverely announces with a flourish and a wink. You and Finn both blink startled at one another for several moments, before mutual recognition quickly sets in. Your lips slowly pull into a wide grin, and you don’t bother hiding the fact that you’re now looking him over with no subtly, just as he’d done to you earlier in the park. 

“I’m not about to get clobbered again, am I?” you begin flirtily, glad that the man, Finn, recognises you as well, though unlike you, he seems to avoid taking the opportunity to check you out again, to his loss. Instead, he smiles big, almost showmanly, and takes up a slight lean on the railing behind him.

“If it’s any consolation, your hair looks great,” Finn replies cooly, and it’s almost as though you’d never parted ways at all. You flick your hair over your shoulder, seeing how his eyes follow the movement before they’re locked back on yours and you already know you’ve got this man hook, line and sinker.

“Luckily for you,” you sniff, though your smile undercuts any real resentment. Finn seems to grin a little wider then, more genuinely than the showman smile. You think the way his eyes crinkle in the corners is sweet, and that he should smile that way all the time.

“Wait, you two already know each other?!” Beverley cuts in, suddenly reminding you that she was in fact still standing there, watching and listening. “How?!” the redhead demands, not going so far as to stomp a foot, but she does cross her arms in a huff as she looks between the two of you in betrayed disbelief, though you note most of her ire seems directed at Finn.

The blonde swings his gaze back to the shorter woman, seemingly tickled by her apparent annoyance, yet his teasing expression is full to the brim with endeared fondness. You get the impression that this was the natural state of their friendship, and that Finn is about to say something inflammatory just to get a bigger rise, which might be a little funny, but you cut in before he can speak, relieving Beverly of her confusion.

“All Star over here threw a baseball at my head this afternoon,” you say pointedly, making sure he doesn’t mistake your happiness to see him for forgiveness. Finn holds his hands up then, and jerks a thumb in the direction of a man in the larger group of party goers on the porch.

“Roper threw a baseball at your head this afternoon,” he corrects you, as though that should absolve you of your attitude.

“Oh, that’s right! You just failed to catch it!” you tease, watching as he winces dramatically and grasps at his chest.

“You wound me sweetheart!” he exclaims ruefully, and despite the vaguely amicable antagonism, you can see now why he and Beverly are friends.

“Then we’re even.” You say. You already agree with the redhead’s earlier assessment; the two of you were going to get along famously.

Finn shrugs in a manner that reads more as relenting than indifference, and at least some of his overly performative act comes away. Beverley scoffs a laugh, rolling her eyes heavily as she reaches out to shove Finn in the arm. He sways, you think for her benefit, which makes you smile.

“Only you could throw a baseball that hits the one girl on campus who’d actually put up with you…” she snorts, seemingly assuming his chances with you were now dashed. Finn raises a finger in protest.

“As we just discussed, I only failed to catch the ball that hit the one girl on campus who may or may not be willing to put up with me. I’d like that to go on record.” He smiles at her simperingly. Beverley regards him with a withering look for several seconds, before choosing to ignore him entirely, turning to you.

“Have fun.” she says, sounding much more like her usual manner, though before you can tell her it’s alright, she’s already spun away, and when you find her again, she’s tucking herself under the arm of her boyfriend, Jake.

You shake your head, and look back at Finn, finding his gaze already locked on you. He pushes away from the railing then, and steps toward you.

“You know what this is?” he asks you, once more sounding like an actor reading lines, and gesturing between you. “Fate.” he says, lowering his voice somewhat like it was a secret just for the two of you.

You cock your head at his odd little act, though you aren’t entirely un-charmed by it. It was rather different to when you’d met this afternoon, despite his blatant flirting then, now it was as if you were speaking with a completely different person. A stage magician, perhaps.

“So, why don’t we go get a drink in your hand, and then you can tell me which day works for our upcoming date.” Finn gives a slight flourish, and while his whole demeanour is still clearly put on, there is an endearing element to his theatrics, a silliness that you might find more charming if it didn’t feel so much like he was performing for you.

He offers you his arm graciously, which you can imagine combined with his hyped up charm, would have plenty of women already giggling into their sleeves, which you don’t do, but you do place your other hand over his warm skin as well, and allow him to lead you back into the kitchen.

“So what’ll it be? Beer? Fruity punch? Fruity punch and beer?” he wiggles his eyebrows at you, and even though he’s still playing a role of some kind, it’s not hard for you to see through it.

“Fruity punch,” you say decisively. “Can’t stand the taste of beer.” You tell him honestly, watching as he goes about procuring you a glass of the punch you yourself had made, and appreciating the effort he puts in to make sure you have at least two cherries, though, you don’t think he means it to be suggestive, despite your own thoughts going straight to the gutter over the matter.

“So, what you’re saying is; I should switch to the punch if I want to test this theory about you being the one girl on campus who’ll put up with me later?” he asks in amusement, at last handing you your drink, his eyes sparkling. You accept the drink and give a noncommittal shrug as you take a small sip. 

“Oh, that’s not necessary, but I’ll certainly appreciate it later.” You really feel no need to go along with his act, not seeing any reason to play coy about your intentions, not in the way he seemed to feel was par for the course at least. You watch as Finn takes a moment to actually process your words, a brief mix of surprise and curiosity passing over his features, but it’s quickly covered up by a much more ‘cool’ looking mask.

You have to crack a smile at his sheer determination to convince you to have sex with him, the poor man somehow didn’t realise he was preaching to the choir.

“You really do look fantastic, by the way,” Finn says after a few moments of awkward quiet pass. You push aside your amusement, and grin happily at him, smoothing your hand over the material fondly.

“Thanks! I feel like one of ‘Charlie’s Angels’,” you gush a little, briefly feeling silly for bringing up the comparison, however, this time Finn’s smile makes the corners of his eyes crinkle in that way you liked, making his whole face seem softer and more natural, pouring with warmth.

“Trust me, Farrah’s got nothing on you right now,” he tells you sweetly, continuing to fondly watch you preen, not just at the compliment, but because you think this might be the first time all evening he isn’t speaking from some kind of script.

The moment passes quickly, though, and as you duck your head to accept his praise, you see his face momentarily scrunching up in a wince, like he was scolding himself for saying something so saccharine. You consider telling him that you found the sweetness endlessly more endearing than any of the other lines so far, but you hold your tongue. You had a small feeling that his pretence was really more about him, than about you, at least to a degree.

Finn is about halfway through earnestly telling you about his apparently ‘average’ sized cock when you at last run out of patience. The gimmick itself was entertaining enough, definitely an original approach to picking up women, and you’d even played along to start with, but you can’t help wondering why you’re standing around talking about his cock when you could be doing other things with it instead.

While he’s still talking, you reach into your pocket and dig around for a moment, before you find what you’re after. Finn trails off when you turn and lay the coin face-side up on his forearm. He blinks at it in confusion, for a few seconds, before looking questioningly up at you.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you ask before he can speak again, and force yourself not to pump your fist triumphantly when his confusion is quickly replaced with affection. Sure, you knew he wanted to have sex with you already, but now he thought you were cute, too.

“Alright,” he answers simply, fully angling his body toward yours, leaning in closer to you at the same time.

“So, this whole ‘average sized cock’ thing, does it actually work? I mean, has it worked when you’ve used it before?” you tip your head up at him, genuinely curious, but you don’t miss the way Finn’s features fall blank for a second after you speak, his smile fading, replaced with mild discomfort. He seems to shift back from you slightly, regarding you once more before he replies.

“I guess this is the time it doesn’t.” He all but mutters, his frown deepening as he looks away from you again, clearing his throat this time and straightening up, obviously embarrassed. He crosses his arms over his chest and looks back at you evenly.

“Could’ve stopped me earlier,” he says a little stiffly, though seemingly coming to terms with whatever direction he now thought this conversation was taking. You can’t help yourself then, his sulking making you laugh, fully and joyfully, but before he can sulk further, you lay your hand gently on his arm, over the penny, and give him a light squeeze. You shake your head as your laughter dies down, and fix him with a warm expression

“I never said it wasn’t working– in a manner of speaking,” You softly tell him, watching as he blinks down at you. You hurry to explain. “I mean don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t working, but only because it’s totally unbelievable.”

Finn at last relaxes somewhat, though his slight frown remains as he considers your complaint.

“What’s so unbelievable about it?” he demands, in a way that tells you this pick-up tactic was one he was proud of, though clear playfulness had returned to his voice.

Confident that you were now talking, actually talking to Finn as he was, and not as he thought would get him laid, you feel energised to engage with the subject matter more seriously. You scoff and roll your eyes at his indignation.

“Firstly,” you start, shifting to lean on your hip, bringing you closer once again. “No guy is ever going to accept, let alone admit that he has an average sized-cock, and he’s definitely not going to admit it to a woman he wants to fuck.” You say matter-of-factly, though you didn’t have anything more than your not-insubstantial intimate experiences with men to go off of as proof.

“Guys who really are average, don’t think that they are, and they probably never will because no woman is going to bring up the fact that his seven inch cock looks suspiciously closer to five.” you wave your hands a little, not realising before now that you really had any firm opinions on this subject.

You see the cogs in Finn’s brain turning as he regards your words with something that resembles amused but genuine interest. You figure he hadn’t expected you to really have a point, which to be fair, you hadn’t expected either. You do plan to let him respond, but you suddenly remember something else you’d been thinking about earlier, when he’d first brought up the concept.

“–And! In my experience, guys who do have big cocks, they don’t really say anything, or they mislead you entirely, so that they can get off on hearing you telling him how big he is.”

That earns a hearty laugh from Finn, who shrugs a shoulder in admittance at that point at the very least. He’d returned at last to watching you fondly, and you think once more that Beverley had been spot on in introducing the two of you. You’re pretty sure Finn is the only man who would so happily, or nonchalantly debate with you about the size of other men’s cocks, just as you’re sure that you’re the only woman on campus who has ever challenged him on it.

Finn hums in thought. “So, you believe men will only ever overcompensate or undercompensate?” he asks, but it's more of a statement. He watches you intently as he tips his chin, and you nod.

“Exactly.”

A moment passes between the two of you, before Finn leans forward, right into your space, wearing a pleased smirk.

“In that case honey,” he starts, voice sounding a little deeper now, huskier somehow. “What’s the verdict then?” he stares at you unwaveringly, challenging you. You frown.

“The verdict on what?” you ask, though at this point you couldn’t muster much genuine interest, not when all this verbal foreplay was slowing down the process of getting him in your bedroom for some actual foreplay.

Finn’s smirk grows then, seemingly glad you’d asked. You watch as his eyes dip briefly down to your chest, where his height and closeness grant him a very good view of your tits. He meets your gaze again before he speaks.

“Do you think I’m overcompensating, or undercompensating?”

You blink and stare at him as you process, not even bothering to hide your captivation, but it lasts for mere seconds before your lips are curling into a coy smile to match his own. You copy his move then, dropping your eyes to take in the front of his jeans, but you don’t look back up again as he had. Instead, you reach out and begin tracing his belt buckle. Finn inhales sharply, clearly taken off guard by your forwardness, which was clearly working for him.

You’re momentarily distracted from his belt as you catch sight of the rather sizable bulge forming at the front of his pants, giving you a pretty good idea of what the verdict should be. You lick your lips without really thinking, but take full advantage of the way Finn’s eyes follow the movement, tracing the path over your now wet mouth as he awaits your answer. You lean in, closing the miniscule distance between you at last, and give his belt a teasing little tug toward you.

“Y’know, I haven’t a clue,” you lie nonchalantly, your smile only growing when you use his belt to pull yourself in and press right up against his front. “But I’d love to find out.”

[dotthings]

Dead Boy Detectives notes for ep 7

* Esther vs Cat King make really fun antagonists.

* Richard Speight Jr directing

* Night Nurse ranting about how difficult it is to get someone back from Hell, the permits and the approvals! and no one wants to go there!! is sending me

* Charles making a deal so he can go into Hell himself and raise Edwin from Perdition this is fine

* Crystal insisting she go with Edwin to Hell, Edwin refusing, Crystal deciding to get there herself by making a deal with her horrible ex who is a demon, and Jenny racing after Crystal because she shouldn’t be doing that alone. This friends circle all looks after each other.

* And Niko is being the only sane sensible one in the joint, making constructive suggestions

* Edwin’s spirit found Charles when he was shivering and alone and confused about what was happening and he brought Charles a lantern and he made him laugh and offered him guidance and was there for him to escort his spirit from the living to the dead. He acted as Charles’s psychopomp. (Oh hi there Carver and Yockey. I’m appreciating this in its own right but having all kinds of Thoughts here)

* “You really gave up a potentially tranquil eternity for your friend?”

Because that’s what restless spirits with big hearts do. Sometimes they refuse to cross over. Sometimes even if they’ve crossed over they take a drive and go on an adventure breaking the rules. Because they’re still looking for something. (Again with the Thoughts. The parallels here are driving me insane).

* Really loving the design and gestalt of this sequence of Charles’s journey through the various levels of Hell

* Charles carrying that same lantern!! *heartclutch*

* Master stroke payoff on a little “throwaway” moment earlier in the season of Edwin’s aversion to a creepy broken doll. Throaway moments are usually…not. It all means something.

* Edwin’s rejection of Despair, of vengeance. Now I’m thinking of Charles who said he wanted to be good, who thinks he’s only his anger. And now Edwin’s fear of being taken over, being defined, by his darker emotions too. Neither want to be defined by that. Darker emotions are part of who people are but don’t have to define them. Integration with and acceptance the whole self is the main idea.

* Simon not wanting to leave Hell because he thinks he doesn’t deserve anything else. Someone who isn’t evil. He didn’t know, he made a terrible mistake. Sometimes people get eaten by their own fears and self blame and the weight of their mistakes and can’t see another way

* Jenny admitting she cares!!

* Crystal and her ancestors burying her abusive ex a demon who is only about cruelty in the ground. Not vengeance or despair. Justice.

* “What are you doing here” “I’m here to rescue you” THIS IS FINE I’M FINE1!!!

* ROMANTIC LOVE CONFESSION. IN HELL.

* “I just need you to know” (It’s not in the having it’s in just being)

* Getting love and acceptance back. No matter what. And they’ll figure out what it all means—they have an eternity to figure it out.

* Jenny, reclined with a wet washcloth over her forehead: “Niko, did you just say someone is back from Hell?” Jenny is having A Day (I know that feeling, Jenny. It’ll be okay)

* Subverting the system from within. Using the cosmic red tape against the system.

* “I know I’m not the bravest but I have excellent reading comprehension skills” Niko <333

* Using “Burning” as the music cue (this song is fire, it was used for the Echo opening credits, great song). “Lay your red hand on me baby as I go” WAIT A MINUTE—

Speight’s directing in this ep was phenomenal and that Speight OF ALL PEOPLE DIRECTED THIS EP WITH THIS PARTICULAR PLOT, I—

CARVER AND YOCKEY I SEE WHAT YOU DID THERE AND AM LOSING MY DAMN MIND THANK YOU SO MUCH

[biboomerangboi]

This is absolutely nothing to do with the Netflix show I haven’t even watched that thing but I’m once again thinking about Sokka and Sokkas Master again and going insane.

Especially with how Sokka was never supposed to be a warrior. Like fundamentally he’s just not built for that kind of life. He was born into war and has been basically been told and trained to believe that one day he is going to die for his tribe and especially for his sister and that’s his destiny and he’s like okay that’s my job that’s what I do and everyone in the tribe knows this and sees this as my role as I am the only man left. (I sincerely doubt a bunch of woman and old people were actually looking at this kid as the last warrior seriously until he went to fight the fire nation BY HIMSELF but that’s not the point, the point is he was doing it)

But but the thing about Sokka is he’s not a fighter, he’s a scholar to his core. He doesn’t win hand to hand against Zuko but he does get a hit in with his boomerang that takes an insane amount of math to do perfectly and even though he loses the fight we realise already that Sokka is coming at this war from a different angle that anyone else is.

Like Sokka knows when he joins Aang he doesn’t have as much to bring to the team, he basically assigns himself the role of provider and bodyguard and is now willing to die for both of them because they are two of the most important people in the world and he could have been cynical the entire time. He was prepared to be cynical. Until he goes to Kyoshi gets his shit rocked by a girl and is like oh damn there’s different ways to go about fighting and war and I actually don’t know a lot of it can you super pretty warrior lady teach me your ways and from that moment on Sokka becomes a student.

He gets the mark of the wise with Bato, he figures out how to get Katara on that prison ship and that the fortune teller is a hoax and gets the water bending scroll all through thinking things through not fighting them head on. He invents the fricken war ballon and it’s so clear that all his thinking is now coming at things from an angle no one expects which is so perfect for this war in particular considering it’s been basically a slow tug of war between the Earth Kingdom and the Fire Nation for decades. He’s looking at these things and he’s like hey I’m not a bender but I do know how benders think and how a lot of people think because I’m trying to figure out how the world works. Like by the time he gets to North he isn’t as great with the weapons because again HES NOT A FIGHTER AT HEART but he is a thinker and he points out all the holes in the Norths strategy with full confidence.

Like in book 2 all his thoughts are about winning and out thinking the enemy. He learns about the library and gets so genuine excited about it but he can’t be a true nerd cause of his responsibilities but he basically plans a way to win the war, learns haikus, try’s art, gets into wrestling and learns so much about other cultures and skills he’s always thinking and winning and no longer doing things on impulse.

But of course he still feels insecure about that and doesn’t see his brain as his true weapon because he was supposed to be the warrior. That’s his role.

So he goes to Piandao who sees all of that and sees how Sokka is so so smart and eager to learn and think in ways that no one expects and he nurtures that. He teaches him art and calligraphy and gives him a Jian! He gives Sokka a Jian "The Gentleman of Weapons" not Dao even though Dao are made for soilders and Jian are for scholars, nobels and people who have time for proper sword craft. (Not to mention the fact they are primarily used for Tai Chi which is also the base for water bending which is just a detail I love). Like the Jian is a sword for scholars it’s for scholars!!!

Sokkas a thinker not a fighter and that’s so amazing to me.

Like he starts as the boy that took on a fire nation ship by himself then ends the series as the guy who’s strategies won the war, a trusted advisor for basically anyone of importance because they know he’s smart and are willing to listen to his ideas and with such a happy future for him to grow without the weight of having to be a fighter weighing him down cause that’s not who he’s supposed to be.

[cozycottagetarot]

First Impressions Reading

Notes--

Hey, it's been a while!

I've been MIA for practically a year due to work, poor health, and school. Thankfully, I've recovered from the aftermath of working that job, I'm still figuring out my health, but my studies are almost officially over leaving me with time to get back into tarot reading once again (yay!).

I've kind of changed up my reading style so if you're familiar with my old readings I'd love to know what you think of this style vs my old style. I don't think it's that different, but who knows.

Anyways, I think that's all the housekeeping for today. The usual disclaimer is at the bottom, enjoy your reading!

Pile One

Hi Pile One! So just an fyi, I feel like what I’m picking up on in this reading is multiple first impressions? I know that doesn’t sound like it makes any sense. But your reading I feel picks up a lot on your person’s past at first and then a romantic/companionship first impression later? Like a friends-to-lovers kind of thing.

Right off the bat I feel like your first impression of your future spouse is startling. As I’m shuffling the cards are jumping out, I’m get startled, I’m trembling. But it’s not necessarily in a bad way. Looking at the cards, the ‘vibes’ are complex. The cards flip over but stay hidden in the deck. Oddly enough, it’s not the cards with negative connotations, but positive ones. Like your person hides the better parts of them… maybe in the name of vulnerability.

When you meet you can sense they're healing from something upon first impressions. Your person may have walked away from a lifestyle that many would desire or some kind of association with wealth that was actually killing them from the inside out. From your first one-on-one interaction, you can tell that the wild inside them that’s had to escape and survive gets triggered easily. It may show up in their work or their self-talk. You can see they’re trying to fight their inner battles, but they may need a friend to help them do so.

You may meet them at the end of a significant period of healing for them when they have to face the heavy stuff of their past. You may feel like their perspective of life, be it all of it or one aspect, isn’t very fair. I don’t want to say they have a pessimistic view of life in general, but maybe their life in particular. To you, one bad thing happening doesn’t mean the end of the world but for them it does. Initially, you might not think they care to hear what anyone has to say but that is untrue. They might simply be off in their own world as most of the people on the cards are looking down or turned away, yet their cards symbolise openness and communication. For some of you, your person may just be shy and it’s easy to pick up on in your first meeting.

When the time comes to show interest in a romantic/companionship relationship, they might approach the subject gently. They’d want to be your knight in shining armour (as in they want to take care of you even though you can handle it yourself), but they recognize that as much as they’ve made progress, they still have some healing to do. Once they’ve gone through the darker stuff, they have a much lighter energy to them. You can see it in their appearance, habits, speech and general demeanour. You may notice that they are more spiritual (by your own personal definition). For some you may drift apart briefly (a couple months) and when you reconnect you gather that they’ve become dedicated to growing and nourishing their peace. You may also pick up on a wisdom that they’ve gained from their healing journey.

Pile Two

Pile two, I am loving you person’s energy! This person is calm, cool and collected. They’re not one to tell out all their secrets and they are 100% in their power. There are a lot of hands in the cards as well as imagery of fencing to enclose something. Your person may quickly and easily give off vibes of being guarded as people may chase after them and what they offer.

Your person gives off vibes of being hardworking and they definitely are. However, you can tell they work so hard one of the first thoughts to cross your mind will probably have something to do with “they’re gonna burn out if they don’t relax”. Them burning out isn’t something that happens often tough and when they do, they hide it well. People, yourself included, may wonder how this person can juggle so many things at once so well. They’re resilient and indulge in their many tasks in moderation, even when it means pissing someone off. They know their limits and that’s something that will be evident to you when you meet.

Communication seems to be a big factor in how they make an impression. For pile one *spoilers* it appeared that one of the ways they get their impression from their person was based on what their person was saying. For you, it’s how they say it. Your person has excellent communication skills and has prominent leadership vibes. They may work in a position that requires them to lead multiple groups or teams, or at the very least, you can see they have the qualities of a good leader.

First impressions for you most likely show this person is well off, and honestly a bit of a person of desire. They don’t pay people much mind though. You can tell if you want their attention you have to show you’re genuine. People either want them in a romantic sense or for the material things they have to offer. For some of you, they may work in finance as a manager for company accounts.

Some way somehow, you may be able to tell they’re crafty… in a clever sense and/or as in literal crafts. They’re creative but in a practical sense. This person is the type of person who gathers ideas from EVERYTHING and can make an inconvenience work for them. You may also gather that they’re someone always looking for a way to improve themself.

From the first conversation(s) with them you can tell they think about their legacy and what kind of impact they want to leave behind.

Pile Three

Your first impression of your future spouse is less about them specifically and more about the general feeling.

I think for many of you, this person might come into your life when you’re least expecting it. They feel fated… You’ve got the Wheel of Fortune so it’s like meeting this person was going to happen regardless. They most likely will feel like the start of a new beginning. It’s not a prominent feeling, but you will be able to recognise that something inside you shifts.

Your person is someone who upon first meeting changes your perspective. For some, they may spark the desire to improve in some format. They may be older and/or wiser, but you can tell it came from hard work and hard life experiences. Yet there’s a gentleness to them, as though all the things they may have endured only made them softer. They may seem too good to be true. You or they may be going through a transition in life. An unbecoming, I hear. Some of you might need to make a decision and this person helps influence it.

Your feelings/impression of this person— You can tell this person is respected. They’re level-headed and a good communicator. They’re someone you can connect with on many levels instantly.

I feel like there’s not much to say about this person. It’s kind of a 'when you know, you know' type of situation. Meeting them is like an exploration of yourself as well as them. Generous and gentle, they may do a lot of volunteer work. There’s a homeliness to them and an unspoken strength. They’re someone you can lean on.

I know I’ve said it already but the energy of this person feeling like & being a fated new beginning comes through very strong.

They could also signify a fiery romance, adventure and passion. The energy they exude resembles letting loose and not caring what someone thinks. They may influence you in this way, inspire you to be authentically you. From the first meet, they’re a leap of faith.

No specific thing comes to mind because last minute I got the lovers. Just a heartwarming feeling for you all about this person.

Also, they’re physically attractive, not just by your standards though. Most people would see them and agree they’re pleasant to look at. (Someone tell me if that’s how they interpret physical attraction as well lol).

Pile Four

*Minor Language

Okay so meeting in a kitchen or the medical area immediately jump out at me. Of course, that’s not the only scenario in which you could meet but it definitely comes through the strongest. For some of you, this is someone you know and have been trying to outrun for a lack of a better word. You may think you’re polar opposites but I don’t think you are. Taurus energy comes through strong, so they may have strong Taurus placements. You and your person may be similar. But there’s definitely that vibe of ‘oh great, you again.’ kind of enemies to lovers.

Brief story time to help you paint the picture. The 'polar opposites but not really' remind me of my sisters. Both of them are a Taurus. They always clashed when they were younger. Sister A would complain about Sister B as if she didn’t do the same exact thing Sister A was pissing her off with. It was equal parts annoying and amusing. However, now that they’ve kind of ‘separated’ and both reshaped themselves in new environments, they’re closer than ever… but they’ll never admit it willingly. If you’re still with me, hopefully, this will help make the rest of the reading make more sense.

So I had to redo your reading because I couldn’t interpret the cards clearly the first time around. However, I was definitely picking up on the whole enemies or at the very least ‘mutual nuisances’ to lovers first time around. I had also picked up that this could be an LGBTQ+ relationship for a few of you.

You most likely have a prior impression of this person or you two just don’t click upon meeting. The first scenario comes through strongest so that’s the one I’m reading, but of course, interpret as you would like. In the situation where you meet again, you may be frustrated with them initially, but you two have to come to peace, most likely for a business endeavour or something career-related it seems.

I see you keeping your eye on them though. They seem trustworthy but you know what they were like in the past. If it’s a completely new person, you can pick up that they may be a bit of an ass. You might be very in your head about them after your ceasefire and at some point have to take a step back and assess yourself. Some of you might know this person from as far back as childhood. You might notice this person has actually grown a lot and come to the realisation that you have to hold them to a new standard.

Some of you, you may be jaded towards this person because they broke your heart. You may be exes or there may have been a third-party situation where they chose something else over you. It could be a person that was the third party, but it feels like it was you or an opportunity and they picked the opportunity over you. Maybe the same opportunity leads to them coming back to you better.

Your new forming impression of them seems to be one of reluctant admiration. Whatever successes you see them with now, they’ve worked hard to earn and you can see it. It’s in their work ethic the effort they make in how they carry themself. You’ll notice how intuitive this person is and/or how fast they think on their feet. They’re mentally agile and can handle what is thrown at them quickly and with ease. They could be very creative and adaptable or they may inspire creativity in you.

Disclaimer: All readings and tarot/blog games are for fun and entertainment purposes only. It is in no way meant to act as or replace professional advice of any kind. You know yourself and what’s going on in your life best so I ask that you trust yourself above all else. Finally please take only what resonates from the reading which may be some of it, all of it, or none at all.

[madneedshelp]

All That Love - Josh Kiszka x AFABReader

Summary: It was a surprise to find out you and Josh were expecting, and when the idea for a fall date arises, you devise the perfect plan to tell him the news.

Warnings: absolutely sickening fluff because I’m feeling like it, mentions of pregnancy, allusions to sex

Words: 1.3k (just a quick little oneshot)

A/N: It's been so long since I've wrote a fic, and I wanted to post something for the Halloween fics @hearts-hunger was organizing. Besides, I cannot resist a little Josh fluff. Also, fair warning, this isn’t edited because I really wanted to get it posted but I am a busy gal.

It was so nice to have Josh home on a break from tour. Especially during this time of year. While he may have been the human embodiment of sunshine, fall was one of his favorite times of the year. All the horror movies and psychological thrillers that he considered masterpieces, the cozy weather, the seasonal activities, he loved all of it and you loved partaking in it with him. 

However, none of those things were what had you most excited for him to be home. 

Two days ago, you found out you were pregnant. It was a fairly common scenario, the two of you weren’t actively trying, but you also weren’t necessarily preventing. Besides, you had been together for ages and you both wanted kids, this would be a welcome surprise. 

While it would’ve been so plainly easy to tell him, you decided you wanted to do something special. After all, this was Josh. He always gave thoughtful gifts and surprised you with elaborately planned outings. You wanted it to be your turn to do something nice to tell him. 

“What do you think of carving pumpkins tonight?” You asked from your spot on the couch. 

Josh looked up from the book he had been reading. “Hm? Pumpkin carving?”

You nodded with a small grin, trying your best to keep your face a reasonable level of excited. You happened to be unfortunately bad at surprises. “Yeah, I thought it could be fun. We could go to that pumpkin patch and pick them this afternoon, then we could come home and carve them this evening. Might as well enjoy your time off, right?”

He leaned over to kiss your cheek with a grin. “Sounds perfect, I’d love to. What made you come up with this?”

“Nothing in particular, just sounded like a nice idea. I do have those sometimes. Anyway, since you were a fan of my genius plan, we better get ready and get going.” You stood and pulled him up off the couch with you. If he asked too many questions, you would slip up or cave, and you were determined to pull your little scheme off. 

“Someone’s in a bit of a rush.” He gave you a mildly suspicious glance. 

You shook your head. “No, no, I just figured I need time to shower before we go and plenty of time for you to join me.”

“Ah, I like the way you think, sugar.”

—--------------

It was late afternoon by the time you and Josh made it to the pumpkin patch, and it was still packed. These places were always a bit insane in the month of October, though. It was kind of nice, all the families and couples that were out having a nice time. You could definitely see you and Josh bringing your kids to do this kind of thing. 

Before you could start to get emotional, you snuck a glance over at Josh. He was also looking at the crowds. He seemed to notice your gaze and turned to face you with a grin. 

“What?” You chuckled at him.

He leaned in a bit closer and spoke in a low voice. “I want one.” He nodded his head slightly towards a young couple with a baby dressed up in an adorable little pumpkin costume. 

The three little words warmed your heart. It had been so hard not saying anything to him yet, but you knew it would be so worth it when you told him that night. “Me too, but I think this might be a conversation for later.” You whispered back, giving him a quick kiss. 

Thankfully, the “later” part of the day didn’t take too long to get too. By the time the two of you picked out your pumpkins, went home, and made dinner, the evening had arrived. Still, the excitement had you eager to finish your plan. 

“So, any idea of what you’re carving?” Josh asked as he finished setting up the carving station on the back porch of your house. 

You made sure the carving template you printed off was held out of his view. “I have an idea.”

“What is it?”

“A surprise.”

Immediately, you could see the intrigue overtake his features. “Oh? Well now I have to know.”

You made your way to the table and scooted your pumpkin to the opposite side from him. “Absolutely no hints. We’re going to carve them facing each other and you’re not going to peek.”

“You torture me so, my heart.” He clutched his chest in mock anguish. 

“Just sit down and carve your pumpkin.” You sighed. 

He made it approximately four seconds before he started in again. 

“What’s that in your hand?”

You looked down at the paper in your hand. “Just a template.”

“Are you telling me you printed off a stencil?” He chuckled smugly. 

You pointed your flimsy carving tool at him with a stern look. “Hey, I just wanted it to look really good this year.”

He shrugged, still looking entirely too proud. “Well, we can’t all be naturally talented pumpkin carvers, I suppose.”

“You better knock it off, or I’m not showing you the finished project.”

His hands flew up in mock surrender, teasing finally starting to ebb. 

You put on some quiet background music, and the two of you got to work on your pumpkins and chatted lightly. The stencil you picked took a bit long to actually carve out. It had two little footprints in the middle and the words “coming soon” surrounding it. Josh finished first, and luckily didn’t try to distract you too badly. Deep down, you knew it was because the unknowing was killing him and he wanted you to hurry. You wanted to assure him that the feeling was mutual, and the sooner you finished the pumpkin the better. 

“Okay,” You let out a breath. “The masterpiece is complete. Are we ready for the big reveal?”

He nodded excitedly, grabbing his pumpkin. 

You matched his smile. “Okay, you first.” 

He swiveled the pumpkin around to face you. He carved his triangle symbol onto it, which wasn’t really a shock. He even had it embroidered onto the back off on of his suits, amongst many other things. 

“Fantastic work, it looks great, Josh.” You gave him a small round of applause. 

He waved a hand dismissively. “Why thank you, but the show isn’t over. We have to see your pumpkin before both can truly be appreciated.”

“Alright…” You bit your lip and turned it around slowly. 

As soon as he read it, his face cleared of all joking manners. The soft glow from the candle inside the pumpkin cast his face with a small bit of light, but it was enough for you to tell a faint sheen of tears coated his eyes. 

“Does this mean what I think it means?” His voice was practically a whisper. 

You nodded, your own eyes welling up too. “I’m pregnant, Josh. We’re gonna have a baby.”

He was in front of you in an instant, pressing a kiss to your lips as he embraced you. A few silent, happy tears escaped both of you as he leaned his forehead against yours and his hands traveled to rest on your stomach. 

“We’re having a baby,” He chuckled breathlessly, voice a quiet rasp.

“Yeah, we are.” You grinned, mirroring his soft laugh. 

He looked from your stomach then back up to meet your gaze. “I love you. I love you so much, and I will spend the rest of my life trying to make you as happy as you’ve made me. I love our life and I cannot wait to watch it grow together.” 

“Likewise, Josh, I love you. Forever and always.”

[frozenjokes]

Grian’s Terrible Horrible No Good Gift

“What do you think? Is this too much? Is this- I don’t know- distasteful? I thought it might be kind of funny. And maybe.. send a certain message. No message in particular of course just- just- you know. A message. I do actually think he’ll find it funny. What do you think?” Again, always with the questions, questions Mumbo would not be able to answer, and yet Grian was still sitting there on the beach looking expectant. In his hands he had a human device called a ‘helmet,’ a hard shell meant to be worn on the head. Mumbo could see how it could be useful. Didn’t know what Grian wanted to do with it though.

Mumbo stuck out his tongue through bared teeth, the human expression that Grian was being annoying.

Grian pursed his lips in an unhappy grimace. “Alright. Okay. So Scar, right? He got hurt- I mean we both got pretty banged up.. ugh, he’s rubbing off on me. That’s such a Scar thing to say. Anyway-“ Grian cut himself off, looking embarrassed at Mumbo’s lack of reaction. “I don’t know how to communicate this with you. I guess I’m not trying very hard though, am I? Don’t answer that.”

Mumbo’s tail twitched in his great annoyance and Grian got to his feet, pacing back and forth.

“Gift.. Gift.. Gift..” Grian stopped short, scampering to the side of the clearing and messing with a big rock, then giving up when he wasn’t strong enough to push it and finding a smaller one to roll onto the shore, though not without a great struggle. On top of the rock he began to sculpt something out of wet sand, a square kind of shape? Whatever Grian was building he was very focused on it. The human collected gunk and seaweed from the shallows to place on top, then with a frightening amount of aggression, began to carve marks into the rock below, blocky and deliberate before scoring random cuts with wide slashes. Finally, Grian stood back, admiring his work. He pointed.

“Scar.” Then, after a moment, ‘Scars.’

Ohhhhhhhh. Okay. Mumbo kinda got it. There was the head, the hair, the rough (rough) approximation of Scar’s chest..? Were the random marks meant to be scars? Either way, Mumbo was familiar enough with art to recognize it. He gave Grian a thumbs up.

Grian looked pleased, nodding. “Alright. I’m me. That’s Scar.” Grian picked up the helmet, holding it close to his chest. “I want to give Scar a gift. ‘Gift.’ This is a gift.” Grian tapped the shell. Mumbo cocked his head.

“Helmet.”

“Yeah. Yes. It’s also a gift. For Scar.” Grian stopped, pursing his lips before walking purposefully over to the Scar statue and holding out the helmet. “Gift. Gift.” Grian placed the helmet on the head of the Scar then stepped back. “Gift.”

…Alright. Gift. Grian wanted to give him something. A helmet, apparently. Well, it didn’t look too spectacular or anything. It was completely flat, no ridges or decoration at all. Mumbo would probably be offended if given something like that in the deep. Hm. Maybe that’s why Grian had come here with it in the first place. He was in desperate need of assistance with his horrible helmet. It was a very good thing Mumbo was here!

“Gift,” Mumbo said, then pointed to himself. Give that to me. Grian looked a little alarmed, shaking his head ‘no.’

“It’s not for you! It’s for Scar.”

Mumbo flicked his fins with a small huff. Communication like this was such a chore. He gave Grian a thumbs down, to which the human bristled, repeating once again that it was for Scar. Well. If they couldn’t figure this out, then Mumbo would have to save Grian from himself.

Mumbo launched out of the water, Grian yelping as he scrambled in the other direction, trying and failing to grab the helmet without decapitating the Scar. All in vain. Humans were slow, and without a bulky tree branch in Mumbo’s way, it wasn’t difficult to get close enough that Grian was spooked into dropping his prize, Mumbo snatching it up and hobbling back to the shallows.

“Mumbo! Mumbo no! You can not have that!” Grian made all sorts of noise as he stumbled into the water, but he knew better than to follow too far. Mumbo was going deep anyway. This helmet needed a lot of work.

It could use some engraving in Mumbo’s humble opinion, but he wasn’t sure he could actually carve something deep enough to sense without damaging the integrity of the object. But that was fine, he could build onto it instead. Out of all the things he brought up from the deep, an abundance of his typical tinkering materials was not among them, but he probably had enough to make this work.

He brought what he had back to the surface, met with more yelling from Grian, but with enough hissing and mermaid scolding, Grian actually gave him space to work on the beach. Mumbo guessed he started to get curious when it was clear there was no stealing going on, Mumbo laying out his supplies to see exactly what he had to work with here. The bits of human garbage he’d collected would do well here; thematic. He could cut some of the cans into scale-like pieces, and maybe line them with all that vine he had collected in the previous days? Might be a waste when he could make rope instead, but he didn’t have the time to gather more materials with a human as impatient as Grian.

Mumbo pulled on his gloves and got to work. Gloves, because glue was strong and it was dangerous, and while Mumbo valued it as a tool, he had ripped far too much skin to mess around with the substance (and this precaution was NOT only because one of said accidents happened recently, Mumbo took utmost care in his safety for every project he worked on).

Grian was utterly enamored.

It occurred to Mumbo that he hadn’t done much work like this around the humans before, most of his time while they were present being spent interacting with them or resting from his injury. Grian asked questions (“What.” “What.” “What.”) and Mumbo explained, though to Grian the whistles and clicks only served to fill noise. Grian wasn’t bothered; most human blabbering served little practical purpose in the first place. As long as Grian kept his distance, Mumbo didn’t mind his presence. If glue ravaged mermaid skin, he did not want to find out what it would do to a fragile human body.

The result was.. something. A little basic, a little rough around the edges, but Mumbo never claimed to be a fashion designer. He was only trying to prevent a friendship ruining nuclear event that such a passive aggressive gesture would surely result in, especially among humans whose relations could be so fragile. The design was simple, symmetrical, but appealing. A row of human-trash scales up the middle flanked vertically with glue-preserved vine (likely to brown, but not to lose its integrity). On either side two more rows of scales, though Mumbo had started to run out of trash at this point so it felt a little bit unfinished but.. better than nothing. At least the dangly bits off the sides served as something interesting, however, if every ‘helmet’ had them, Mumbo doubted they would feel very special to human ears.

…

Wait a minute. Humans used light to see. Mumbo had never heard Grian or Scar make any sort of sound remotely close to the rhythmic click click click of the deep. Not even on the rare occasions they’d been here after dark.

………

Did humans echo locate at all?

[tgmsunmontue]

Online & Anonymous 4/16

Hangster. Explicit. Years before they meet in person Bradley and Jake strike up a friends-with-benefits relationship online. And then something more like an actual relationship.

Odd year = Bradley's POV and Even year = Jake's POV

>>Bradley chatting (bold and italics)

>>Jake chatting (italics)

2005/2006 2007 2008

2009 – Bradley

>>Have you heard of Grindr?

>>Why do we need Grindr, we have this…

>>Ha. So you have heard of it!

>>You can use Grindr to pick up outside of this messaging app. I think I’m going to sign up.

>>Also you can send and receive pictures, if you’ve got a good enough phone with a camera.

>>You want to see photos of me?

>>I wouldn’t be averse to seeing some.

>>Would you send me photos of yourself?

>>That would sort of be the point.

                He’s never going to push, and also, the only phone capable is expensive, but god he really does want to see a picture or two of Jas. His imagination is fine, but he’s intensely curious about whether Jas lives up to his imagination. Not that he’s settled on any one image, they haven’t exchanged specifics, other than length and cut/uncut status. They’ve been talking long enough for Bradley to have picked up enough other clues. The way Jas talks, is from Texas and in the military, he’d bet that he was white, but sometimes he imagines darker skin under his fingers when they chat.

>>Do you have a type?

>>Yes and no.

>>That’s a cop out.

>>It’s also the truth.

>>My type is male.

>>I’m not that much older than you.

>>I’m still figuring things out as well.

>>So what have you figured out so far? What do you know you like?

>>A little bit of stubble, but not beards.

>>Muscular arms and thighs.

>>Close to me in height.

>>And confidence. The guys I’ve been with, where it’s been good? Like really good? They’ve been… sure of themselves. Their confidence was justified nine times out of ten.

>>Yeah? I’m going to take that as life advice right there.

>>You do that. Haven’t led you astray yet have I?

…            …            …

                Grindr is different. It feels more risky, with putting photos out there, and having the location enabled. He leaves his face out of the images, matches with guys who do similar, mutually assured discretion and also deniability. While it might feel riskier, it is also so much easier to hook up. As time passes more guys download the app and the number of matches goes up. With all the dick pics he’s sent, he has seen more dick in the last few months than he has in the entire six years prior.

                Sometimes the hookups are mediocre, rarely complete busts, but on the whole it works for him when he’s on leave. He occasionally looks when he’s not on leave, but he reinstalls the app and then deletes it in moments he knows are safe. He doesn’t trust the people around him to respect his privacy and not poke around, despite having a passcode on his phone. He still uses his laptop to chat with Jas through the website, and he realizes they could email each other and send photos that way. He could just get a free email account.

>>So. I bought myself a new phone.

                Bradley reads the message, lets his breath out slowly, licks his lips and feels his entire body prickle with anticipation. This feels like a next step. And it comes just as he was about to suggest they exchange email addresses.

>>Yeah?

>>Any particular reason?

>>You know why.

>>Stop playing dumb.

>>Could have saved the money. Just had a thought that we could email each other.

>>How safe is that?

>>Anyway. I made an account. You want my user name?

>>Is it not 00JASTYX?

>>No. It’s not.

>>That would have been easier.

>>Are you going to tell me?

>>Nope. Think I might make you work for it?

                Bradley laughs, shaking his head.

>>Contrary bastard.

>>You don’t think I’ve already earnt it?

>>Just thought you might like the thrill of the chase.

>>You can’t see me but I’m rolling my eyes.

>>Am I not worth chasing?

>>Kind of feel like I already caught you.

>>Exactly. So now you have to find me. I’ve tried to make it worthwhile.

                Bradley’s mouth goes dry.

>>Really now?

>>Yep.

>>Challenge accepted.

…            …            …

                He can’t spend every moment trawling through Grindr profiles. That way lies many things, including a potential dishonorable discharge if anyone sees him. He doesn’t stop to pay much attention to the photos, instead paying attention to the brief words. He knows how old Jas is and where he’s from and that he’s in the military. So he turns off the location, because he could be anywhere in the world for a start. There are hundreds, if not thousands. A needle in a haystack comes to mind and he knows why the location aspect is so important. He’ll persevere though.

                Early 30s. Nope.

                New York native. Nope.

                Student. Nope.

                Late 20s. Nope.

                Athlete. Nope.

                Fit. Well yes, he’d have to be, but he’s also Canadian. Nope.

                Mid-20s. Southern boy. 6’1”. Good with words, better with my hands. Maybe?

                He looks to the username then and it’s TJASX and he laughs. This has to be him and he looks at the first photo. Bradley stares. If this is Jas, he’s gorgeous. Or at least his body is. He’s known Jas is military for over two years, and hell, he might not be anymore. Although he suspects he is, body like that posing in the photos, face carefully cropped out to just show the hinge of jaw or column of his neck. His dog tags are even visible in one photo. He should tell him to remove that photo, because that photo feels like confirmation that this is definitely him. Bradley doesn’t know whether to admit that he’s also military, that’s safe enough surely.

>>Just as gorgeous as I thought you’d be.

>>Those photos actually of you?

>>Of course. Why would I use someone else’s photos?

>>Because people lie on the internet.

>>Are those photos yours?

>>Yep.

>>You’re hot.

>>So are you.

>>Glad you think so.

>>I’m serious, I was a scrawny kid. Had to bulk up but I’m always a little self-conscious.

>>Well you’re gorgeous.

>>Nothing to be ashamed of.

>>Want to lick you all over.

>>One thing though, you need to take your dog tags off if you’re going to be posting photos.

                He pauses, thinks about what he’s going to type next.

>>I took off mine.

                He sucks in a breath and closes the app, terrified but no idea why. He knows Jas won’t care, but it still feels like he’s exposing himself, baring himself to attention that he has avoided for the last few years. He taps the phone against his forehead, breath coming a little short and he opens it again.

>>Holy shit.

>>Nick?

>>Yeah. Hi.

>>You’re military as well?

>>Seriously?

>>Yep. DADT and all that.

>>Holy shit. That’s a weird coincidence, right?

>>Well, 1 in 10 roughly right? Just lots of people not telling.

>>Thought I could maybe tell you.

>>Thanks for trusting me I guess. That’s… it makes me feel a little less alone.

>>You know what I mean?

>>Fuck. Yeah. Sorry. I know exactly what you mean. I should have told you sooner.

>>Would have been nice. But I get it.

>>It’s not something you go yelling or sharing with anyone.

>>No, not just anyone.

>>I feel weird that I know all of this stuff about you but I don’t know your name.

>>Well. DADT right?

>>Do you want to know my name?

                He’s nervous, because he will share his name with Jas if he wants it, even if he just gives him Brad, that’s good enough.

>>Nah. I think I’m good actually. I think of you as Nick. Maybe if you were a bunch of letters and numbers I might want something more like a name.

>>But Nick works for me. If we ever meet in person, then we can exchange our real names. Also don’t know if I’m ready to give you my name, which I know is probably hilarious to you considering all the tips you had to give me when we first started chatting online.

>>I think of you as Jas. Like Jace, short for Jason or something. So your random letters and numbers is a name for me too.

>>Oh. Huh. That’s cool. Think you’ll find my name funny if we ever meet up.

>>When.

>>What?

>>When we meet up. Not if.

>>Okay. When we meet up. You’ll still find it funny.

>>Wait.

>>Do you always limit yourself to only when you’re on leave?

>>Yeah. Pretty much. For in person that is. Not worth it otherwise.

>>You know my friend that I came out to?

>>Yeah.

>>I think he’s under the impression that you’re my boyfriend or something.

>>Well. I’m something, that’s for sure.

>>Ugh. Bad joke.

>>I meant that I’m at least a friend. That’s something, right?

>>Oh.

>>Yeah. You’re definitely a friend.

>>My hot single gay friend that I jerk off with on the regular.

>>Yep. I’d say the same about you.

>>Yeah, but you have more than just me.

>>Jas, how much time do you think I have to spend online messaging people? You’re pretty much it, and have been for a while.

>>Really?

>>Yeah. I’m going out and hooking up with guys when I’m on leave, and where I feel like it’s not going to implode my career. But I spend more time being deployed and chatting with you.

>>Oh.

>>You okay?

>>Yeah.

>>Did you think I had a whole bunch of guys I was chatting with?

>>Yeah.

>>Did a few years ago. You’re the only one I kept it up with. I enjoy talking with you as well as the sex stuff.

>>You’re the only one I ever talked to.

>>You’re allowed to talk with other guys. And hook up with them.

>>You don’t owe me your fidelity.

>>I am using Grindr to hook up, but it’s a one and done kind of thing.

>>Do you think if we ever meet up it’ll be a one and done?

                Bradley scrubs at his face, doesn’t want to make false promises.

>>I don’t know. We might take one look at one another and hate each other.

>>I don’t know.

>>I want more than hooking up.

>>Yeah.

>>Me too.

2010 - Jake

[mcuynfluffwriter]

Red - Bucky X y/n short

\\yes again. I know what the people want.// \\is this connected to the first one? Maybe🫢// \\yk what? Let’s make this a game. Try and fit together all the stories they will be out of order/released in no particular order, have fun deciphering it(if you want)//

y/n=your name, ya’ll know the drill by now- (if not it’s basic don’t worry)

warnings: injury, almost self delete but it was technically under control so don’t worry it’s not going to be a theme, shockingly enough not very much floof for this one, violence

Contains: Bucky X fem!reader, red room shtuff, fight scene because obviously. Violence.

The Red Room was revived and still has some of its widows that Yelena hasn’t found to free. The organization sees the remaining avengers/super heroes as threats so obviously. They sent some girls after them. Y/n, happens to be the one after former hydra asset James Barnes. Time to figure out which trained their soldiers best. Hydra or the Red Room.

You kept your breathing steady. This isn’t going to be hard. He shouldn’t even see it coming. You are perched on the roof of a building with a sniper trained at a window to an apartment. Any second now. Just wait until he crosses into sight. Fire the gun. Mission accomplished. You see something in the window. Off to the side. There. That was part of a face. Impossible! how would he know to be careful? You notice through the scope there is a light reflection from the scope on the wall. Damnit! Dropping the gun and standing sharply you start making your way across the roofs. You were half way there when the window was flung open and bullets were being shot at you. Skirting to the side and taking out one of your pistols, as well as your widow bites, you started returning the fire. You feel pain shoot up from one of your legs and force yourself not to yell out. Damnit again! You stumble back and can feel blood trickling from the wound. You also notice that the gunfire has stopped, it must have been obvious you had been hit. No time for that. You try to run but you end up partially limping, still going fast though. You only make it far enough away to half stumble down the fire escape into an ally o about a block away. Putting a hand to your communicator you start to speak, trying to sound as if you aren’t out of breath. “I got hit, I repeat that I am injured. I’m going to go again I just need-“ you had to cut yourself off and flinch just barley avoiding another bullet to your hand. The super soldier? That was fast. But you already had your widow’s bite on and ready. Unfortunately he avoided the blow. “Who are you?” He demanded stalking closer as you limp further away. You don’t reply, shooting again. “Alright princess, quit it.” He says coldly, hitting aside the taser part of it to the side with what appeared to be his robotic arm. You keep going, you have to. It’s the mission. Besides if he gets close enough you’ll h be able to take him down the normal way. He keeps avoiding your widow bites so you stop bothering to waste them. “Don’t make me shoot you again.” He said, giving a matter-of-fact nod to the bleeding and still painful wound. “Put your arm down, stop trying to hit me with whatever the hell you have. It is not working.” He seemed to pause, squinting in the low and bad lighting level. It looked like he had spotted the pattern on your belt. The widow symbol.

“Who hired you.” “This is my job.” “Apparently. Who wanted me dead?” “My superiors.” You respond both times sharply and without much room for more questions. That was his andswer that’s the best he gets. There was a beat of silence that followed, “You aren’t even actually in control right now, are you? I’m not talking to the real person.” He said with realization. No, that was stupid. What did he mean? Of course this was you. You were a real person why did he say it like you were some kind of extension of nothing? You carry out missions because it is your purpose. But you are forced not to dwell on that. No, no forced- you push it away yourself. At least it feels like it. And pounce forward. You had taken a small knife from a pocket while you had been shooting with the other hand and started using it in the fight. The first thing to do was obviously twist the gun out of his hand or point it away from you. Ow. Moving hurt a lot. Moving fast and using all your footwork in the fight with a bullet hole in your leg was an entirely new experience. But you could swallow the pain. Like the times you had before. Push it away. Keep going. Get the job done and oh my god his grip is annoyingly strong on the handle of this gun. You use his shoulders to brace yourself, jumping up in the same motion to use one of the trade-mark well known widow moves. The super serum wouldn’t stop suffocation so if you could just lock around his throat. He tried to throw you off and it didn’t quite work, as you managed a cut on his head before he could grab your hand sharply and hit you into the brick wall of the ally. Your ears rung loud and sharp and you had to let go. For a moment you were dazed. On the ground, not even realizing you were on the ground, blinking slowly with your gaze up. You could hear your blood roaring in your ears and your head starting to pound with pain. You could feel something wet dripping down from where you had been smashed into the wall. You see the figure of the target and try to get your head back in the game though- blinking rapidly and almost aimlessly reaching for the pistol in your holster. For some reason your hands are shaking as you push yourself back, still flat on the ground, the gun raised at the super soldier.

how disappointing. I thought out of everyone maybe you could at least do this one thing for me. A voice crackled through your earpiece and for a moment you’re dazed again, confused as to why now your pistol was pointed at you… by you. And then, for the first time since you were a little girl, you had a shining moment of yourself again. You must have been ordered to terminate yourself. The target- no, wait, this was another person. He had a name. Looked confused as to what your strategy was now but he must have caught the scared and confused expression on your face. Your hand was shaking more now. You didn’t want to do this. You wouldn’t fail they could give you another chance! You couldn’t force your hand away. You felt your eyes get wet and felt mad because of it. You shouldn’t be crying. Not in front of someone else. And not because of another order. It was just another order. The Red Room needed you to do this. You followed orders. Like you were told. This was no different, right? You didn’t even have time, because a strong hand sharply grabbed your wrist and forced the gun pointed in a different direction. The target? You could see something in his eyes this time though, something else. Something not quite pity but this time is wasn’t anger either. Like now he felt bad about what he was going to do. “They’re making me.” You don’t even realize what you had said, everything just wasn’t registering anymore. You were losing lots of blood and had hit your head, quite hard against a brick wall. You’re voice had been cracked as it said that, and quite- barely loud enough to be heard. “I can tell.” He replied, and you still hadn’t entirely registered that you had spoken to someone out of turn so for just another second you were confused. Not even registering that the two of you were still fighting actually. Your body hijacked by most of your mind and fighting to follow the order you had been given. While the actually conscious part of you felt frozen and stuck. Or. Wait no, maybe the fighting part was the conscious one? You finally manage to get back from the soldier and try to pull the trigger. But it was when nothing happened that you realized during the fight you had just backed out from he must have managed to turn the gun’s safety on. Whatever fine you could follow your orders anyway, you had to. But he caught your wrists again before you could aim the widow bites properly and pinned both of your hands against the tight ally wall, using a knee to keep you pinned as well so that you couldn’t attack. “Sorry about this.” He said, and you must have said something because that all-most-sad expression flickered behind his eyes again but you didn’t have any time for that. Because everything went dark.

[roguishcat]

WIP Wednesday

Here's a snippet from an AU two-shot that I am working on where Astarion was never turned (I wanted to have something Cazador-free). The working title is 'Completely Hypothetical'. So humor/romance/eventual smut with Astarion wanting to be suave and ending up being endearingly awkward whilst trying to figure out whatever in the world Tav could be to him.

Shadowheart stopped by Astarion's office before leaving for the day and sat down on the sofa opposite his desk, crossing her shapely legs as she looked at him with an unreadable expression.

“Halsin asked Tav out, you know. And she said yes. They are meeting for drinks tonight, probably right about now.”

Astarion did not look up from the papers strewn across his desk. “Thank you for that information, not that I asked.”

“So I take it that you don’t care?”

“Not in the slightest,” he waved her question off, as if it was completely inconsequential and unimportant, lifted the cup of coffee off his table and took a sip. He definitely would have to pull an all-nighter, with the workload being absolutely impossible.

“Good, good. That’s what I thought too. Which is why I told Tav that it wasn’t slutty at all to go all the way on the first date.”

He choked on his coffee.

She quirked an eyebrow and waited a beat for her words to sink in. “And then, being a good friend, I made sure that Tav had three types of condoms in her bag. Halsin looks like a big boy, but you never know what size they might actually need.”

Astarion could not reply because he was still trying to cough up his lungs, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes.

“But never mind that, I’m sure you have a marvelous evening ahead of you,” Shadowheart smirked, getting up and smoothing the front of her pencil skirt out. “I, for one, am meeting up with Karlach in an hour, so have a nice weekend.” With that she walked out of his office, her heels clicking in a way that could only be described as smug.

It didn’t matter to him if she slept with Halsin. Hells, it didn’t matter if she slept with half the city. It was none of his business. He had their monthly brunches to look forward to. The next one would be in a couple of weeks, or 26 days, or 624 hours. Not that he was counting.

And that was how Astarion found himself standing across the street from the place that he heard Tav go on about. He guessed correctly, she was indeed at that exact restaurant.

Astarion scowled as he saw that she actually made a real effort for this date, looking absolutely delicious, if he said so himself.

He could have taken her there. It could be him sitting across from Tav now. Reaching out to wipe a bit of sauce from the corner of her mouth with his napkin, she really was a messy pup sometimes, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. Leaning forward to-

“Oh, hells no,” Astarion hissed, watching as Halsin leaned forward to whisper something in Tav’s ear, making her blush prettily.

“You deserve it, you know.”

He jumped at the familiar voice. Karlach was looking at him with a smirk, Shadowheart standing next to her tiefling.

“What are you doing here?”

“On no, Shadowheart, Astarion’s been discovered!” Karlach stage whispered. “Spying on a person on her date like some kind of creep.”

“And you two? Don’t tell me you just happened to stroll past this particular restaurant at this exact time, hm?”

“Oh, we are nosy, alright” Karlach admitted readily with a shrug. “But we are rooting for this date to be a success. And I bet Shadowheart that you would turn up. Pay up, baby!”

Shadowheart grumbled and got her phone out, sending the money to Karlach. “You see, I had some faith in you. Should have known better.”

[blood-choke]

hiiii… i wanted to ask more about this particular val scene where mc and her talk about that portrait and mc is a bit stuck on the word husband and wants val to know theyre not a man. can i ask what inspired that type of convo? i wanted to know if it’s something you’ll touch up on again? is this underlying feelings mc had before their entombment… worried that val sees them as a man just because mc is masc? cause i know that’s kind of broader discussion in the lesbian community iirc….. was that why you wanted to incorporate it? this ask has so many questions LOL but basically i wanted to say i was intrigued and it did made me think more on those type of dynamics (thinking back to those resources you rb’d a while ago that go more into depth about diff things in the lesbian community)

oh boy get ready for another long-winded answer from me!

a lot of the feelings mc has about their gender are inspired by Leslie Feinberg's work (mainly Stone Butch Blues)

Feinberg was someone who lived & passed as a man for years of hir life, and wrote a lot about the complexities of hir gender and what it was like being a "gender outlaw."

there was actually a scene in particular from sbb that kinda put the kernel of an idea in my mind that led to this narrative of the mc feeling overshadowed by Standard and anxious about being perceived as a man. it's towards the end of the book when Jess (sbb's protagonist) meets Ruth (a trans woman that Jess falls in love with)

Jess offers to help Ruth carry groceries up to her apartment, and Ruth takes this the wrong way & is offended, partly because she thinks Jess is a man.

One Saturday afternoon I found her clutching two huge bags of groceries and fumbling with the downstairs front-door lock. I pulled out my key.

“Here, let me.” She didn’t say thank you. She hurried ahead of me on the stairs.

“Can I help you carry those?” I offered.

“Do I look weak to you?” she asked.

I stopped on the stairs. “No. Where I come from it’s just a sign of respect, that’s all.”

She continued up the stairs. “Well, where I come from,” she called out, “men don’t reward women for pretending to be helpless.” Once I heard her apartment door close I kicked the stair in anger and frustration.

later, after they get to know each other better, they have this interaction:

I laughed and picked at my salad. “Do you know if I’m a man or a woman?”

“No,” Ruth said. “That’s why I know so much about you.”

I sighed. “Did you think I was a man when you first met me?" She nodded. "Yes. At first I thought you were a straight man. Then I thought you were gay. It’s been a shock for me to realize that even I make assumptions about sex and gender that aren’t true. I thought I was liberated from all of that.”

I smiled. “I didn’t want you to think I was a man. I wanted you to see how much more complicated I am. I wanted you to like what you saw.”

i think the inspiration here is quite obvious, hahaha. i figure anyone that's read sbb can sense the similar through-line here in my work. though the conversation between mc and Valentina has a much different tone.

there's another scene later as well after something happens to Jess and she has to have her jaw wired shut. she's working at a new job and is unable to speak, and she's also passing as a man at this job. she overhears some of her female coworkers talking about her and they refer to her as a "creep" and speculate that she's always watching one of them. Jess overhears all of this and then walks out of the job, goes home and pulls the wires out of her mouth herself:

After I was sure I’d gotten the last piece of wire out of my gums, I rinsed my mouth with whiskey and then drank the rest of it so I could sleep without remembering how Marija’s words had stripped me of my humanity.

butches & gnc women still face this kind of dehumanization; compared or likened to men in a derogatory way, accused of being "heteropatriarchal," the predatory stereotype of the fat ugly lesbian, and on the other side they're also hypersexualized, especially online and in queer spaces. butchphobia is a specific kind of misogyny that hits from all sides, even from the people that are supposed to be a part of your community. and this attitude especially effects trans women and women of color, who are already experiencing all of these things due to transmisogyny and racism.

i also really wanted to use this to touch on the kind of gender essentialism that we see in a lot of these cis feminist discussions - to these women at this job, Jess had committed no real crime other than being quiet and being the “wrong” kind of man. something about this scene has always stuck with me and really bothered me, but it's hard to put into words; on one hand i can admit i have probably been one of those women who made some kind of similar remark about a man i barely knew, but i've also been someone on the receiving end, too, because of the way i look. the mc in blood choke is put into this box, but they can't fit in, as someone who has been on both sides and doesn't really understand where they belong because of it; how can she stand beside Valentina or Hana or Clear when they might see her as a perpetrator, someone who can't be trusted? how does this mindset harm both the women and the men of the council and everyone in between? how can we break this cycle?

one of the films i mentioned recently when talking about the character designs was The Same Difference, which is specifically about the Black lesbian community and the discrimination within that community based upon gender roles (though this is not something limited to just the Black lesbian community)

a lot of the women in that doc talk about the boxes they're put in as AG or stud lesbians - they can't have their hair long, they can't wear makeup, they can't do this or that, they have to be aggressive and hard or else they're not real studs. they discuss stud on stud (or butch4butch) and how other lesbians look down on those types of lesbians, as well as the disdain for bisexual women for "betraying" the community. it explores the way misogyny and the patriarchy still oppress these women and forces them into this restrictive gender role despite their refusal to adhere to the other role originally assigned to them, and the way racism specifically intersects and exacerbates it for Black lesbians. there's a stud that's an exotic dancer and wears a weave, and a lot of other studs have a problem with this because a weave is "a female thing." another section follows a pregnant stud, and how the community shuns her for that, because she "dresses like a man and acts like a man" so why is she getting pregnant when she should be "the man"?

mc doesn't remember how they felt before entombment, but waking up they feel this need to prove themselves - both in that they are hard and aggressive like a butch should be, but also in that they want to be this person for Valentina or Clear or Hana (or all of them) that is safe and comforting. but they aren't sure how to do that when the world perceives them as this one specific thing - as a husband, as Standard, as a man, specifically this man who hurt Valentina.

of course we've already seen this to not be true of the companions with the last chapter as the mc learns more and spends more time with everyone. but this is kind of the foundation of where this whole idea came from. it started with my novel & i chose vampires for that story & this one because there is a long history of lesbian vampirism (and also because it's sexy) but there's this "curse" that both Hana & Valerie talk about in their respective stories, the first one being the racism she's had to face, the transphobia, along with this alienation and perception of lesbians as predatory and conniving and aggressive, as vampires, which i just think really lends itself to expanding upon these issues lesbians & trans women face both in general and within the community.

anyways if you want to read more i suggest Stone Butch Blues, which you can get for free on Leslie Feinberg's website, as well as S/he, by Minnie Bruce Pratt, available on the internet archive, Gender Failure by Ivan E. Coyote & Rae Spoon also on the internet archive, and you can rent The Same Difference for $10 on vimeo.

[tsarisfanfiction]

Light in the Dark

Fandom: Trials of Apollo Rating: Gen Genre: Romance Characters: Nico, Will Nico misjudges a shadow travel and ends up dumping them in the wrong cave. It's not where they were meant to be, but it lets them have an important conversation. TOApril Day 21 - The Sun and The Earth. This was another prompt that took me ages to figure out, but I've been meaning to practice writing Solangelo for the first time in a while (curse you, TSATS) so have a bit of a snippet of me remembering how to write these two again.

The by-now familiar feeling of tiredness washed through Nico as he stepped out from the shadows, hand firmly clenched around Will’s as he guided his boyfriend back into the mortal world again and he staggered briefly.

Their new surroundings were pitch black, a cavern deep beneath the earth, but as light began to trickle in, illuminating their surroundings, Nico realised that, maybe, he hadn’t brought them to the particular cavern he’d been aiming for.

Merda.

Will was going to kill him.  Luckily, they didn’t appear to have arrived anywhere that was teeming with hoards of monsters ready to launch at them and tear them to pieces – the opposite, in fact, with a complete and utter dearth of any other lifeforms except for the two of them – but it was still Nico that had brought them here, possibly got them a little bit lost, and Will wasn’t going to let him shadow travel again until he’d had a nap or three.

Speaking of Will…

Nico glanced over at his side, where he could feel the warmth of Will’s hand still in his, to see that the sudden illumination of the initially black cavern was stemming from his boyfriend.  Will hadn’t shrugged off any clothing, so it was somewhat stifled by the fabric covering his torso and arms, but the brightness more than made up for it.  It almost hurt to look directly at him.

That… that was new.

Not that Will could glow that brightly – he could glow brighter still, Nico had seen it in Nero’s tower, and when they’d first discovered that Will could glow and he’d turned into a human flash-bang, except mercifully without the bang – but the fact that he was.

“You’re glowing,” he said, feeling a little bit dumb as the observation fell from his lips.  Of course Will was glowing, anyone with eyes could see that.

Will shrugged, the shape of the light rising and falling to accentuate the movement.  “Well, duh,” he said.  “It’s dark and I want to be able to see.”

“No, no,” Nico shook his head.  “You’re glowing but I didn’t tell you to.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Will asked, sounding almost wounded.  Nico felt him tug his hand out from his grip, and made an aborted reach to try and catch it again.  “Am I supposed to wait for you to tell me to glow?”

Oh.

Nico made another grab for Will’s hand, this time not pulling back before he made contact with the warm skin.

“No,” he said at the same time.  “No, Will, that’s not what I meant!”

Will paused in his second extraction of his hand from Nico’s fresh hold.  “Then what did you mean?” he asked, “because that kind of sounded like you expect me to wait for your permission to use my powers.”

Nico winced, well aware that in the light still being emitted by Will his boyfriend could see it clearly.  “Not that,” he said.  “Gods, not that, Will.”

Will shifted where he stood, a little fidget that said he wasn’t quite sure what was going on – or maybe it was just the ADHD kicking in.  With Will, it could be either, or both.  “Okay, I’m listening,” he said.  “What did you mean?”

“You never used to glow until I convinced you too,” Nico pointed out, and Will’s fingers tensed between his, so clearly he was saying the wrong thing again.  “You used to say it was embarrassing, Will.”

The tension started seeping away again, which hopefully meant he was on the right track now.

“This is the first time I’ve seen you glow without needing to be talked into it, Will,” he said, his voice breaking a little and going soft, but Will’s face lit up independent of his glowing so that couldn’t have been a bad thing.

Will’s cheeks started emitting a red-tinged glow, the way they usually did when he was glowing and embarrassed.  “No-one told me to glow at the Tower,” he muttered, and Nico shrugged.

“I wasn’t exactly with it then, was I?” he admitted, and watched a flash of something cross Will’s face – the sort of something that promised the intended recipient was going to regret crossing the son of Apollo.  Nico hoped it was aimed at the long-gone Nero and his minions rather than him.  It hadn’t been his fault that he’d been knocked out – not really, anyway.  Maybe he’d taken on more than he should have done, but Nero had needed to be stopped somehow.

Will squeezed his hand.  “No, you weren’t,” he admitted.  “But what’s your point, Nico?”

“You’re getting more confident,” Nico said, and he hoped Will could hear the pride in his voice, because he was proud of Will for it.  He’d even called it his powers, instead of mumbling something about how it was just a thing that happened sometimes.

He felt Will freeze.  “I… am?” he asked, sounding completely baffled, as though the concept hadn’t occurred to him.  Knowing Will, it hadn’t.  Nico didn’t say anything else, letting Will think it through, sort through his emotions until he found the answer.  “Oh.  I am.”

But Nico had to laugh at his surprise.  “You are,” he said, squeezing Will’s hand tightly.  “Apollo’s pep talk finally got it through your thick skull,” and he wasn’t bitter about that, not really.  It was a little frustrating that nothing he had said had managed to convince Will that his powers were both a part of him and something to be celebrated and used, but at least someone had – and who was better suited to be that someone than Will’s own father, and the one he’d inherited it from in the first place.

His free hand reached up to catch Will’s cheek.  “I’m proud of you,” he said, knowing he was echoing Apollo’s words, but Apollo didn’t have a monopoly on being proud of his son.  “You’re amazing, Will.”

The glow from Will’s face got a little redder again, but Nico’s attention was more taken by the quirk of his lips as he actually seemed to let the praise sink in, instead of deflecting it like he usually did.

Nico got the feeling he owed Apollo several prime sacrifices during dinner for finally getting enough of a chink in Will’s armour of self esteem issues that he could actually listen to praise, now.  Hades would understand.

He probably wouldn’t, but Nico didn’t care.

He slipped his hand around the back of Will’s neck and lightly tugged him forwards.  Will came willingly, with no resistance at all, and Nico pressed a soft kiss to his lips.  “I’m proud of you,” he said again, keeping firm eye contact.

“Thanks, Nico,” Will replied, barely a whisper but close enough that it was easy to hear him anyway.  They stayed there for a moment, Nico basking in the warm comfort of Will’s presence and glow – which was very much one and the same, right then – before Will pulled away slightly, outside of immediate kissing range, but not so far that he couldn’t re-enter it on a whim, if he wanted.  “So, did you bring me here just to kiss me where no-one else could see, or was there another reason?  Not that I’m complaining, mind you, but this does seem rather excessive when there were several places in camp you could’ve taken me without exhausting yourself on shadow travel.”

Nico winced again, and Will’s newfound confident glow dashed any hopes he had of hiding it.

“Nico.”

“I… uh.  Miscalculated,” he mumbled.  “This isn’t where we were supposed to be.”

Will’s sigh was his unimpressed one, where Nico was in for a lecture on recklessness with his powers as soon as his boyfriend was satisfied they were in a safe enough location to do it – or more accurately, that Nico was in a state to actually absorb it, because Hades knew his boyfriend had no real situational awareness when it came to dishing out scoldings.

“Well, is there another way out of this cave, or are we stuck here until you’re recharged?” he asked.  His glow started brightening again, gentle but steady as he lit more and more of their surroundings.  Nico still had to look away when he started getting light echoes in his vision, blinking once or twice before he could focus on the now very well lit cavern.

There didn’t look like there was any exits.  Without letting go of Will’s hand, he knelt and pressed his free hand to the floor, feeling through the stone.  He wasn’t as good at it as Hazel, but maybe…

He sighed.  Or maybe not.  He couldn’t sense anything already there, and Will would go ballistic on him if he started moving rock around while he was already tired from shadow travel.

“We’re stuck, aren’t we.”  Will was resigned.  “There’d better not be anything in here that wants to kill us while we wait.”

Nico couldn’t feel anything, but wasn’t going to tempt the Fates by saying it out loud.  Still, Will seemed to have come to a similar conclusion by himself, because he suddenly sat down, the movement overbalancing Nico enough that he found his rear connecting with the stone floor, too.

“I guess we’re waiting,” Will sighed.  His glow dimmed slightly, enough that Nico could look at him again without risking his ability to see, and a warm weight rested on his shoulder.  Nico tilted his own head until his cheek landed on something soft.

“I guess so,” he agreed.