#It was fun to pile them up and see an entire set grow

[chevvy-yates]

[NC_RES]_27022048-NCA steyr_v_portraits_027_KBI_LB.file ///core:_vijay_steyr.file\\\

—

⚠️ READ: Please do not repost/reupload any of my art here or to any other platform, or I will be forced to do anything to get it annihilated.

Vijay was first I took pics with those retro tv (not Ry), somehow I missed posting them all the time.

The moment I saw this retro TV prop mod popping up I knew Vijay needs this. I hope one day I can recreate a more realistic dreamy vaporvae set to place him in. He deserves that.

And copper divine (as Arki calls him) posed so well thanks to @halkuonn's classic poses! (I love this set to bits halk! they are so amazing <3)

[queer-n-here]

HEY

ITS THE ANON THAT ASKED FOR FYODOR X MUSCULAR READER

ERMMMM

IF ITS OKAY CAN I HAVE THAT NOW BUT SMUT

PLEASE

( im not desperate i promise )

-🦅 ( eagle emoji anon cs rahh america )

Yeah brotha, ofc!

Also, welcome to the anon fam. Here we go, Fyodor smut. (And guess what? I'm writing this in my mom's school so like... pray that I don't caught)

Also, I'm gonna do your Kunikida req, too, just gimme like a day or two, yeah? Hope you like it, even though it kinda got OOC.

Contents: You walk in on Fyodor fingering himself to the thought of you, and then you fuck the poor anemic man.

Warnings: Smut, top male reader, nipple play, OOC Fyodor.

Fyodor was almost ready to get on his knees and beg.

It was probably the first time in his entire life that he'd ever been so desperate.

It had all started that one day when you'd picked him up for the first time, and ever since then his skull could only contain one thought: you. Any and all attempts at a distraction were futile. After trying for weeks, Fyodor gave up on them.

His only solace was the handful of hours when he'd be asleep. Lately, however, you'd started haunting his dreams, too, plaguing them with thoughts and images of you that grew filthier and filthier each time. Gods, what were you doing to him? And how were you doing it? Was this a part of your ability? To hypnotize someone and make them lose control of their senses?

Even know, rutting pitifully against the pile of blankets in your room, Fyodor's glazed eyes could see you. Your huge form, towering over his own. Your ginormous hands tracing his skin, gripping his waist and rubbing his nipples.

His naked chest came in contact with the bed sheets, and he threw his head and moaned, pathetic dick rubbing back and forth against the soon to be stained sheets.

But it wasn't enough. It wasn't even nearly enough.

Fyodor licked his fingers slick, then reached back to insert the first one into his achingly empty hole, trying to convince himself that it was your finger his hole was fluttering around. He shut his eyes, seeing you against the back of his eyelids instead.

Pre-cum dribbled down his shaft as his shoulders shook, his free hand clenching desperately at the sheets. Gasps and moans spilled from his red and bitten lips, and all of a sudden his fingers hit a certain spot.

Fyodor's back arched, a particularly loud moan leaving his mouth. He slipped in a second finger, hand moving faster now. He bit down on the sheets beneath his head, muffling his cries against the fabric as he found himself tipping over the edge soon. As his cum hit the sheets, so did his body. His poor anemic body couldn't hold for any longer.

He rolled over onto his back instead, dazed eyes opening slowly, and taking a moment to process what they were seeing.

You.

For a moment Fyodor almost believed that he had now gone insane. But it was too real to be an illusion, you were too real.

He sat up with a gasp, hands flying to grab the sheets beneath him and try to cover himself with them. You were faster, though, ripping the sheets out of his grasp and letting them fall onto the floor.

This was going to be fun.

Not that you had expected to see Fyodor like this when you opened the door of his room. I mean, sure, maybe you could blame that on your habit of not knocking, or maybe even his of not locking his door. But you were glad you two did that, how else would you have ended up in his room, smirk growing on your face as you took in his condition.

Fyodor was still trying to reach for the sheets, but you grabbed his wrists and pinned them to the bed above his head, making him fall onto the bed on his back with a huff.

"Fyodor," Your eyes had an unusual darkness to them, one that set the alarms blaring in his head. "What were you doing?"

Fyodor tried to struggle out of your grasp, his weak body fighting against yours to no avail as a deep red blush rose through his flesh. "...It's none of your business!"

"Isn't it?" You tilted your head, face inches away from his. "You said my name."

Fyodor froze. "W-what?"

"You called for me," You repeated. "And you were loud, too. I thought you were hurt somewhere."

His pale skin reddened further, and he turned to look away from your blazing eyes, but you grabbed his chin and made him look at you.

"Were you thinking about me?" The smirk had returned to your face, and your eyes were hungrily roaming over Fyodor's body. "You were fucking your hole with your fingers like a little bitch in heat; were you pretending they were mine?"

Fyodor's breath hitched. Being caught like this before he had even come down from his previous high was intimidating, but also strangely arousing. He let you loom over him, your huge body almost completely hiding his against the bed.

"Answer me, Fyodor," You said.

And he couldn't do anything but nod, cheeks flaming. You leaned forwards and kissed him, smiling slightly. He gasped again, surprised, eyes wide and hands falling limp in your hold. You let them go, placing your hands on his waist instead as you pressed him into the bed, tongue invading his mouth.

"W-what are you doing?" Fyodor pulled away just long enough to ask.

"Hmm," You hummed against his lips, pulling back and sitting on the bed to take of your clothes. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

Fyodor's breath hitched, his skinny body shifting against yours. You finished stripping, leaning down to kiss him full on the lips again, this time more passionate. He fisted his hands in your shirt, pulling you closer weakly.

You sighed softly, reaching forward to trace the curve of his neck, the dip of his collarbone. Pulling away, you lowered your head to kiss there instead, leaving marks in the wake of your fingertips. Fyodor moaned, screwing his eyes shut against the feeling of your lips on his skin.

"[Name]," He panted, biting his lips to stop himself from moaning too loud.

"Hmm?" You pulled away from his collarbone, raising your head to look at him. "What do you want me to do, baby?"

Fyodor's eyes widened slightly at the pet name, but he wrapped his arms around your neck all the same. "Please, fuck me..."

And who were you to deny him?

He'd prepped himself just fine, and, aligning your tip with his leaking hole, you were able to slide in your member relatively easily. You started slow, thrusting into him gently at first, trying to give him time to adjust himself.

"[Name]." Fyodor moaned, brows furrowed. "Nggh, f-faster, please!"

You obliged him, speeding up considerably as you lifted his legs, wrapping them around your waist before placing your hands on either side of his head. Fyodor was clenching around you with each thrust, each nudge of your tip against his soft and tight walls making his toes curl.

Your hips snapped against his, and his back arched, thrusting his nipples up into your face. You kissed them readily, licking and biting and teasing to your heart's content as the man beneath you squirmed and panted and moaned.

"Fyodor," You said, teeth gritted against the feeling of Fyodor around you. "Does it feel good, hmm? Tell me, d'you like it when I fuck you like this?"

Fyodor's eyes were blurred up with tears, his eyes blown out and wide, making him look like he wouldn't be able to process anything but your cock in his ass for the life of him. Still, he nodded frantically. "S-so good, hah! Mmph, [Name]! Feels so... so good..."

You rolled your hips, pounding into him with a rhythm so heavenly, it had Fyodor seeing stars. One thrust in particular hit somewhere so soft inside him, he cried out, and you shifted to hit that spot again. His grip on your shoulders tightened, head falling back to expose his beautiful neck.

You leaned down to kiss it, rolling your hips and bullying his prostrate. His nails were burying into your skin, moans growing louder and louder by the minuted in a way that told you he was close.

And sure enough, pretty soon Fyodor was trying to speak through his lewd noises. You understood his meaning even when his words were barely coherent. Speeding up, you bit his shoulder, making him cry out in a mixture of pain of pleasure so intense all other thoughts were wiped out from his brain.

He reached his orgasm, hips bucking up into yours as a cry ripped itself free from his throat. You slowed down to a stop even as your cock throbbed at the feeling of Fyodor clenching around you so tight it almost made you lose control.

He huffed and panted beneath you, using one hand to cover his face. You gently pried it away, planting a kiss on his forehead. You waited for him to come down from his high, peppering kisses on his face softly.

He raised a hand to place on your chest to stop you, giggling softly. "You..." He hesitated slightly. "You haven't finished yet, right?"

You had been ignoring your throbbing dick for a while now, trying to remain still despite the desire building in your gut.

You shook your head.

Fyodor flushed slightly. His arms had fallen limply onto the bed when he'd came, and now they rose to wrap themselves around your neck again.

"Go on, then. You can... do it till you cum."

And being as restless as you were, you immediately began moving again.

[nicromancytarot]

YOUR FIRST PREGNANCY

This is a general reading based on a collective of people. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. If you don’t feel the pile resonates with you, don’t be scared to try another, if it still doesn’t feel right, that’s ok! Maybe our energies aren’t as connected and my readings are not for you.

I do these strictly for fun and educational purposes. I do not charge for these readings, and I do not fake readings. I would tell you the cards I get for the readings, but I pull like 20-30 cards each reading and that is just slightly a strenuous task to write them all down lmao.

PICK A CARD TAROT READING

I asked my spirit guides what you needed to know about your first pregnancy, pick a card to find out what they had to say!

Pile 1 ———> Pile 2

PILE 1

DURING THE PREGNANCY

Pile 1, you guys will feel very heard and listened to, you may have a lot of family or friends around you who will be willing to help you out with this pregnancy to make sure you are feeling your best this entire time. You may have a name that you picked out at a young age and are super excited to call your baby by. You could talk to your baby a lot, some of you may sing to them or put your headphones on them so they can listen to your music. I feel you will be already very connected to your baby during your pregnancy, however you may be a little hesitant at first before getting super close during the last few months.

HOW THE BABY WAS CONCEIVED

I see a lot of you, if not all of you will end up having this being the result of a one night stand or even possibly a hookup with your ex. I don’t feel a strong masculine figure being present in the baby’s life afterwards. I feel as though this will be an accident, or happy mistake, due to you feeling willing to step out of your comfort zone and try something new - leading to your pregnancy.

ITS A…. 🎀 GIRL 🎀

AFTER THE BABY IS BORN

My lovely pile 1, I think you guys are going to struggle a bit after your baby’s birth, you may find it’s harder than you thought it would be - and I do feel like you have a fair amount of family around, you could still express feelings of isolation and aloneness, make sure to prioritise yourself during this time. For some of you, I believe your baby may begin their life off sick, like a possible Colic or uncomfortable condition which will lead them to cry a lot and it could be very irritating for you. Take a moment, and a breather. Never feel evil for having to lock yourself in a room to calm yourself down before tending to your baby.

ABOUT YOUR BABY

Your baby is going to bring a lot of money into your life when they grow up, you may have not been able to give your baby everything you wanted to, but don’t worry because they understand it and they are willing to give it to themself. They may end up doing something which is seen as taboo or unexpected, like working with dead people, (funeral arranging/directing/embalming) spirituality - just something very unexpected for their upbringing.

They’re going to be a summer baby - I straight up got Gemini, Cancer and Leo (3rd house, 4th house and 5th house. May-August) born within the 2nd to 3rd week or the month.

This will be your only child.

PILE 2

DURING THE PREGNANCY

You guys are going to have heavy emotional energy during this pregnancy, if someone says one thing, it’s enough to set you off. You’re going to be very protective over your baby, like if someone says your baby’s ultrasound looks like an alien, you may honestly flip out on them for being rude about your child. During the pregnancy you guy might be too focused on work to give it up, there’s heavy energy on wanting to continue to work to either distract yourself or make money so you’re prepared for when your baby arrives.

HOW THE BABY WAS CONCEIVED

I think you and your partner were actively trying for this baby, as I do see a theme of scheduling or planning when the perfect time would be to try. This will be at a time when your relationship is the most strong and you have prepared yourself for this new chapter in your life. I feel as though you may have had to make a lot of changes to be ready for this, you and your partner were very excited and eager when you were actually ready.

IT’S A… 🎀 GIRL 🎀

AFTER THE BABY IS BORN

You may have had a very spiritual experience during the birth, and this has made you see things differently, or be more open to things you weren’t so open minded towards prior. You’re going to be very protective of your baby, you may wake them up every hour to make sure they’re ok, or lay by their crib to check up on them. You could be slightly hostile towards people who want to hold or look after your baby. You also need a rest, this will cause you to be very restless and in need of a good sleep, so trust your partner to look after the baby while to take a nap.

ABOUT YOUR BABY

Your baby is going to look up to your relationship with your partner, they may see you two as the model for what they want in their life when they are older. They are very hardworking and will help you see the world in ways you didn’t before. They have the mindset of “if life gives you lemons, make lemonade” and our very optimistic. They will always assume a leadership position, so you may see them as quite bossy or in control.

Born during spring or winter, possibly right in between. Scorpio or Aries could be a significant sign for them. October-November, March-April.

This will be your only child.

[moog-rt]

GO TO HELL

[Lucifer Morningstar x Fem!Reader]

➨ Prologue

Next: Chapter One

Premise:

You love your friends. You really do. But sometimes it needs reminding when one of them accidentally sends you to Hell.

Despite falling into the hands of Hell’s loveliest princess, finding a way back to the world of the living proves difficult as you tiptoe around its king.

Warning(s): blood, future nsfw (possibly?)(not in this chapter)

If you'd prefer to read on Ao3, here is the link:

Otherwise, enjoy!

♡ ♡ ♡

PROLOGUE

You were careful not to puncture the plastic biohazard bag as you struggled to fit it in your backpack. Your friend owed you big time for this one.

You enjoyed your job, but having to stay overtime was not the way you would typically choose to spend the free hours of your day. Unfortunately, one of your overachiever coworkers was closing as well, so you had to wait even longer than expected. She only left after you insisted on taking over her closing duties.

It took some convincing. You had to thoroughly explain how desperate you were to get out of some macho-man movie the guy you were seeing insisted on watching with you. It was a half-truth. You had no plans to spend any amount of time with him that night, but he had been heckling you for the past week about that fucking movie. Regardless, it did the trick since your coworker’s fiancé was obsessed with the same one, and she proceeded to go on a full rant about how much she loathed it.

All that matters is you successfully got her to leave, finished closing in record time, and finally got that damn biohazard bag zipped up safe in your backpack. With that, you were out the door and on your way to help your friend in their “time of need.”

Which basically translated to, “I need materials that are hard to acquire ethically, and if you love me, you’ll help.”

When you asked what on Earth they would ever need such a thing for, they told you they recently decided to dip their toes into the occult. What exactly that meant, you weren’t sure, and you didn’t want to know. You were just eager to drop off the biohazard bag and head home. You could see a nice hot bubble bath in the near future. Maybe a book and a fun little drink as a treat.

The brief walk to your car was surprisingly pleasant. You didn’t feel as though you were heading home in the middle of the night anymore as the days were growing longer. And it was that perfect temperature where you could wear a t-shirt or a sweater and still feel comfortable. Spring was at last beginning to bloom.

The sun was just about to set as you pulled up to your friend’s apartment building, which was thankfully only a short drive away from your workplace. You scaled a few floors until you got to their door. There wasn’t even a chance to knock before it swung open, and you were yanked inside by the collar of your shirt.

The room was dark save for a few dozen pillar candles that were lit around nearly the entire perimeter of the living room. The kitchen countertop was littered with all kinds of spices, some in containers, some in ominous Ziploc baggies, and most just spilled out across the faux granite. Looking closer at the floor in the center of the open room, there was a star with a circle around it drawn out in what looked to be salt or sugar. In the middle of it was a large black candle with a pile of what you assumed were the herbs from the counter surrounding it.

“Do you have it?” Devon asked as they pulled your bag from your hands. “We’re almost out of time. I got as much ready as I could, but this is the longest step.”

“I’m sorry. We? There is no we when you’re trying to sell your soul to the devil or- Look, I don’t know what you’re doing, but I’m not taking part,” you said as you helped them carefully remove the plastic bag, bringing it to the weird seance circle-thing. You dreaded the moment they opened it. Some of its contents were rather fresh, but some were a week or two old.

“Nobody is selling anybody’s soul,” your friend scoffed, tearing open the plastic after failing to undo your rather tight knot. You were not about to have that shit leaking out onto your personal belongings.

They instantly recoiled. You’ve never seen their face so shriveled up before. You wished you had your phone out to take a picture. They sat there for a moment before taking a deep breath and reaching their hand towards the bag’s opening.

You were going to gag.

“Stop! What are you doing?” you shrieked, stepping up to their side to stop them from actually dipping their fingers in. “Don’t you have gloves or something?”

“Did you bring me gloves?”

“You didn’t ask me to bring you gloves.”

“Then no, I don’t have gloves.”

“Can’t you just leave it in the bag?” you asked, shaking your head in disbelief. Sometimes you seriously questioned your taste in friends.

“No, the book says I have to use it to draw these symbols around the pentagram,” they said, sliding you the crustiest, dustiest book you had ever seen in your life. When you picked it up, you were worried it would crumble away from the way it crunched as you gripped the pages. Many of the words were blurred, including a portion of the title, which appeared to be in Latin.

You couldn’t understand it, but you remembered them saying it was something to do with summoning a demon. According to Devon, they can help you out with finances, academics, romance… You couldn’t help but imagine some horned monstrosity threatening your boss into giving you a raise or breaking into your teacher’s office to change your test scores.

“I can’t believe you’re actually doing this.” You carefully handed the book back to them and walked over to their desk where you knew they kept some basic art supplies. A paint brush should work fine so long as they sanitize the living hell out of it afterwards.

You sat down beside Devon and watched them slowly dip the white bristles into the biohazard bag. The paint brush came out nearly black, as if they were painting with tar, but as it was pressed to the apartment floor, it left behind streaks of crimson. You had to lean away from the overwhelming stench of it. Iron and rot.

Devon had explained to you that they were initially going to use whatever blood they could squeeze out of a steak from the supermarket. The only problem was the ritual specifically required it be human. Obviously, that only left them with two options: Prick their own finger (though they doubted that would be enough) or murder.

That was, until they remembered what you did for work.

You landed yourself a job in a medical facility testing blood samples for all sorts of diseases. Sometimes you only had to determine the blood type or whether it would be viable for donation. Once the testing was done, the blood would be discarded.

To Devon, this meant you had unlimited access to such a valuable ingredient in their twisted little plan. It took quite a bit of convincing before you finally agreed. You were worried about the possibility of losing your job. Can you believe that?

The final symbol was drawn out, and you were wondering why you were still there. You told yourself you would be in and out. You wanted nothing to do with this. Maybe it was just morbid curiosity? Never in your life, would you have thought you’d be helping your friend with some demonic ritual.

You decided it was finally time to take your leave as Devon began chanting in Latin. That was enough fuckery for one day. God knows you want no part in whatever their little séance results in.

You were barely able to get to your feet when the lines of salt began to glow an ominous red. The floor within the pentagram started to crumble away into what looked like a void as you noticed your shirt being gently tugged in its direction. You backed away, not taking your eyes off of it.

There was a blinding flash, then the room was filled with a shrill, ear-piercing noise. It was as if a thousand souls were screaming out at once. You’re sure you yelled out in alarm, though you couldn’t hear it. Covering your ears did little to dampen the volume.

You were jerked forward suddenly as the soft pull on your shirt grew fierce. Glowing red chains manifested around your waist with matching pairs of shackles around your wrists and ankles. Your eyes followed them as they led back to the pentagram. Whatever they were attached to on the other side was a mystery.

“Devon!”

Your cry went unanswered, and you spared a glance towards your dear friend. Their eyes appeared to have rolled back in their head, still chanting mindlessly.

The chains around you grew tighter, causing you to whine in discomfort. To your horror, they continued to pull you closer to the void. You tried with all your might to fight against it, throwing your weight back, legs stiffly digging into the plastic wood flooring in front of you. It was all for naught as your socks deprived you of any traction.

You only slid closer and closer to that gaping hole.

You screamed. You fell. You clawed at whatever you could get your hands on.

Then the ground beneath you vanished, and the world went silent.

Next Chapter

[mistyffa]

Something I've been thinking about a lot recently is working with another feeder to blow up a feedee...

Especially if they're starting at the same size as us. Just having a cute NEET girl move in with us, her body all tight and toned. It starts small with my partner and I cooking her bigger meals than she's used to, always with a healthy slab of butter. There's always snacks lying around the house, specially curated to her tastes so she forgets she's even overeating. After a few months she's developed a nice, soft layer of pudge over her entire body, her hips are a little wider, a bit of a double chin is coming in, her belly pushes against her leggings and dresses, and she's started to slow down a little.

Then the weight starts to pile on faster. Depending on each of our moods, one of us feeds her more intently while the other comforts her and takes care of the house. Sometimes for fun we'll whisper about her progress just loud enough for her to hear us from the next room. We talk about how much thicker and softer her thighs are, how her tits have gotten fuller, how cute she looks when she's snacking on the couch. Then we act surprised when we walk into the den and see her double-fisting a soda and an ice cream sandwich with a sly grin on her face. By this point she's solidly chubby; her thighs and belly jiggle when she walks, and she hasn't quite realized the wardrobe she started out with is much too small for her now. She totally fills her athletic shorts, which nowadays she only uses to lounge around the house, and she always needs one of us to help clasp her bra.

Fast forward another year or so, and she's completely puffed up. She'd put on at least a hundred pounds and gone through two wardrobes. The first time she popped the buttons off a pair of pants, we went out for dinner to celebrate, but now it's become a regular occurrence. Her days all blend together for the most part. My partner and I would set up our work schedules so one of us will always be home with her, preparing her meals and feeding her so she doesn't have to waste any calories standing by the stove or moving the food from her plate to her mouth. Essentially every waking moment for her is spent completely stuffed. On weekends, when we're all home together, we like to have a little extra fun. My partner and I would cook her at least five full meals a day, each a couple thousand calories, with lots of snacks and sweets in between. When she's not eating she's splayed out on the couch, puffing on her wax pen. One of us cuddles her, rubbing her belly and squeezing her tits, whispering teasing words into her ear. The other kneels on the floor between her legs, holding her gut out of the way while she eats her out. Then the timer goes off, and it's back to pigging out.

At night, we'd stand her up in front of a mirror and point out every new stretch mark and curve. We'd talk to each other about how much we loved her huge hips and her hanging gut, how cute her plush arms are, how fun it is to cup her double chin when we kiss her. We never address her directly so she can squirm in her overwhelming horniness. Sometimes we like to pull out her old clothes and help her try them on. Lately it's taken both of us just to pull her old tshirts down over her belly and breasts, at least twice as wide as they used to be.

She loves it though. She loves the attention, the humiliation, the constant care, the approval she gets when she outgrows another outfit. She loves nothing more than lounging around all day, stuffing herself to her heart's content, smoking pot, and watching TV.

And we love it too, of course. Watching her grow and settle into her new body, then do it all again. Doing everything for her. Talking about our plans for her. Our next goal is to make her big enough that she needs help standing, which doesn't seem too far off, seeing as she's already huffing and puffing every time she needs to get up on her own. And we can't wait.

[astrangetorpedo]

Boy Power: The Women of Boygenius on the Joys of Nourishing a Supergroup Without the Superegos

By Chris Willman

The three singer-songwriters who make up Boygenius are musing about what they did and didn’t intend to accomplish when they went into the studio to make “The Record.” The six Grammy nominations they just collectively reeled in for their first full-length album together? Not actually part of the master plan. Neither was establishing themselves as role models for a much-needed sense of community across a swath of young America.

“We didn’t set out to be like, ‘And we symbolize friendship!’” bandmate Julien Baker points out, musing about the benevolent qualities that have been attributed to the group. “We just were like, ‘Let’s make a good record.’”

Fair enough. But have we mentioned that Variety‘s Group of the Year does, in fact, symbolize friendship — to the point that the band has virtually become an iconic representation of trifold intimacy? Sharing the bond the trio developed in the studio and on the road has been a key part of the appeal for the band’s avid fan base. It’s a conclusion that band member Lucy Dacus was not avoiding when she recently told Teen Vogue that “being affectionate onstage has been really fun and sweet, and it exhibits behavior that I think is healthy and good.” They even wrote about their growing closeness in meta album tracks like “Leonard Cohen.” “True Blue,” their signature loyalty ballad, may or may not be about the group itself, it’s hard to escape the feeling that a line like “It feels good to be known so well” somehow applies not just to the trio’s interpersonal relationships but to the generally progressive, empathetic, LGBTQ-friendly, folk-rocking audience at a Boygenius show.

No wonder Boygenius seemed to consistently have the longest merch lines of 2023 (at least this side of Taylor Swift’s), with fans seeking ways to fly their colors. In what can still register as a man’s world, suddenly, it kind of felt like everybody wanted to be a boy.

A concert by the trio has its rituals. The band members describe a private rite that occurs early in a set, right after they’ve opened the show with a handful of their hardest-charging songs, like “Satanist” (another friendship song, once you get past the irreverent title) and “$20,” and are transitioning into something more reflective. “We have a little moment where we look at each other during ‘True Blue’ every show,” Dacus reveals, looking across the table at bandmate Phoebe Bridgers, “and sometimes I’ll wink at you and be like, ‘Here’s the time where we check in.’ And sometimes I feel like we can see when each of us feel crazy.”

Bridgers agrees, saying, “Or we have a weird day, and we have to look at each other and just be like, ‘Oh, my God, this day is still trudging on,’” suggesting that there are hidden cues and codes being passed around while Dacus’ soft voice is tucking an audience of thousands into a warm, communal bath.

But there’s a more public-facing ritual at the end of the show, when the members basically pile on each other in some form or another. It can look like sheer, rough horseplay, but given that everyone in the group identifies as queer, these full-body collisions also been described in reviews or fan comments as “Sapphic” moments. How would they characterize them? “It’s Sapphic horseplay!” says Bridgers, grinning, and maybe not entirely kidding. “That is exactly what it is.”

“With the horseplay,” says Dacus, taking that term and running with it, “sometimes we kiss. Sometimes we spin around. Sometimes we throw things at the audience. Sometimes we crowd-surf. Sometimes we pick up Julien or bow to her. It’s never really planned. Sometimes our tits are out.”

Bridgers remembers what felt like a signal change moment at a London show in the summer: “Someone got on her friend’s shoulders and flashed me in Gunnersbury Park. It was right after we took our shirts off the first time” at their prior show. “I was like, ‘This is so sick'” — the good kind of sick — “‘that someone feels safe enough to do this.’”

Dacus agrees. “Yeah, it doesn’t feel violent or violating in that particular circumstance. Like, if someone walked by and flashed us right now, I’d be like, Uhhhh. But, yeah, there’s something about what the show culminates in, where it does feel very safe and celebratory.”

Where we are right now is the outdoor patio of a Studio City coffeehouse, where the only things being flashed are Baker’s easing-into-autumn sweater, or slightly more provocative items like the “I Love Cuntry Music” trucker hat that Dacus has just doffed, or the Viagra Boys cap that Bridgers keeps on, maybe to deflect any possible attention that passers-by might otherwise give to her tell-tale platinum hair. The few passersby wouldn’t guess that this is a group about to play a long-sold-out headline show at the Hollywood Bowl for its 2023 tour finale, or to do “Saturday Night Live” a week and a half after that. They’re laid-back and still capable of surprising and delighting each other in conversation, and not at all giving off any America’s Greatest Current Rock Band vibes, although they’ve earned the right to some attitude, with an album that much of the indie-rock crowd and not a few critics would agree is the year’s best.

“Phoebe was the one that was like, ‘This is gonna be big,’” Dacus says. “I had aspirations; you had plans,” she says, looking at Bridgers. “You were like, ‘We’re gonna do it!’”

“We had talked about the Hollywood Bowl in the kitchen of Shangri-La, remember that?” Bridgers says, referring to the Malibu studio owned by Rick Rubin, where they cut “The Record.”

“But I didn’t have any context,” Baker says, noting that neither she nor Dacus had ever set foot in America’s most iconic venue, having grown up around Memphis and Richmond, Va., respectively, versus the Pasadena stomping grounds that’d given Bridgers lifelong access to some bigger dreams. “Our last show” — in Los Angeles, at the end of their debut 2018 tour — “we played the Wiltern, and I was tearful backstage,” Baker says, as she remembers exulting: “‘I’m so proud of us! All my dreams have come true!’ Like I’d topped out.”

The Bowl, and Madison Square Garden just before it, were milestones even for Bridgers, the most visible solo artist of the three prior to this year. She’d topped out herself locally, maybe, at the Greek. Then a funny thing happened on the way to the Cahuenga Pass: “The Record” immediately established Bridgers, Baker and Dacus as equals in every way, even in the eyes of fans who might previously have favored or just been more immersed in one solo career or another. There was magic to how evenly gifted and well matched they were as frontwomen, as songwriters, as harmonizers. They truly put the super back in “supergroup” … and took the ego out of superego, in a manner of speaking.

Strength in numbers: What a concept! Why didn’t anyone ever try it before? Well, there’ve been a few tries at bringing existing titans together over the years, and hoping they wouldn’t clash. There was Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, and Asia, and the Souther-Hillman-Furay Band and … um … Well, let’s let the geniuses here come up with some slightly more contemporary analogues.

“You could look at Broken Social Scene and New Pornographers,” Baker says, but as soon as she starts dissecting the dynamics of those groups, it’s clear there aren’t really any recent antecedents that compare.

“I bet a lot of people try it, with a pretense that falls apart once they start to make it,” Dacus says, and then affirms why they’ve been able to come up with a successful joint project where others before them have bailed. “This collaboration is as important to each of us, if not more important, than our solo work,” she says. “And I bet a lot of supergroups are, even internally, thinking of it as a side project or a momentary thing.”

Bridgers agrees. “Yeah, because you’re going to make a third of what you’d earn making your own thing. So you’re like, ‘It’s my side thing — I’ll devote six months to it.’ But we put as much attention into it as if we were making our own records. The album took us so long to make, and we worked on it relentlessly. It was pretty serious from day one.”

Baker says, “It’s sick that the band has an identity that’s more than the sum of its parts.” (This maxim may be the closest Boygenius will ever come to a cliché, but they, and you, have got to embrace one that is this mathematically inescapable.)

When it came to the material they brought to the table, far from coming up with tunes that felt like discards from their solo releases, “The Record” ended up being chock-full of extremely personal and introspective songs. But it also included some of the most inherently commercial songs any of them have done, apart or together. You may recall that Bridgers had to be kind of coerced into making “Kyoto” a banger; in each other’s company, there was no such reticence.

“Definitely with ‘Not Strong Enough,’” Bridgers says, “I was like, ‘It’d be fun to have a radio song.’” (And, as it turns out, a Grammy song; it’s up for record of the year.) “With the songs that we were gravitating toward, we knew ‘True Blue’” — a Dacus-led ballad — “was gonna be such an indie smash, and fucking ‘Satanist’” — conceived by Baker — “goes so hard. ‘Strong Enough’ was the one we finished last, and I was like, ‘Let’s each write and sing a verse, because this could be the single.’” It didn’t feel like a sellout. “A lot of stuff that would feel contrived, solo, doesn’t feel contrived with these guys, because it’s just all in the spirit of fun and being together. And, yeah, it’s the first time I’ve ever been like, ‘Damn, people are gonna sing along to this part!’”

That delirious spirit stands in healthy contrast to the sad-core image some people might have slapped onto one or all of the band members. But it’s hardly all about the mirth. At the Bowl, as on every other night in the latter parts of the tour, Bridgers asked the audience to put away all phones for the album’s devastating final track, “Letter to an Old Poet,” as she walked the semicircular platform separating the front two seating areas. She says, “Every once in a while I see a phone and I fume, but mostly they’re great and they put their phones away. And because most of the show has been looking through people’s phones and not at their faces, suddenly they become a roomful of people, and it’s insanely powerful to me.”

Why that number in particular, for shutting down cameras? Is it just one of a dozen possible moments to make that request, or is there something in particular about this one’s wounded and angry spirit…

“I play plenty of heavy songs,” Bridges says, “but that one feels too dark to not be having a communal experience.”

“Isn’t that the only time that you’ve cried while doing a vocal take — during that song?” Dacus asks.

“Yeah. I had a couple years where I had a hard time crying,” Bridgers affirms. “I’m over it now, thank God. Now I cry all the time. But ‘Letter to an Old Poet’ is one of the only times I’ve cried onstage.”

“Lucky,” Dacus says. “I hate crying onstage. It happens. I hate that shit.”

These asides about tears might give a Boygenius novice the wrong impression about the band. Even their softer songs tend to have a barb in them, and others, like the screamfests “$20” or “Satanist,” are undeniably hard-ass. A cutting irreverence is the hallmark that makes the sentimental moments honest and disarming.

Their irreverence comes through in their choice of stage or TV outfits too: At the Bowl, they dressed up as the Father, Son and Holy Ghost (with Dave Grohl sitting in briefly on drums as a zombie priest). “If you think of a three-person costume,” Baker explains, “what’s three things? We were like, ‘We could be the Trinity.’” Maybe it’s just as simple as that — numbers as Halloween destiny. But the band members don’t demur when the suggestion comes up that maybe it also had something to do with the phrase that is repeated over and over again in the bridge of “Not Strong Enough”: “Always an angel, never a god.” They switched up that equation, if just for one night, getting deistic at the Bowl.

Less than two weeks later, for “SNL,” they dressed up as the Beatles in their Ed Sullivan-era early prime. The Trinity? The Fab Four? Screw CSNY and all the rest; these women know a real supergroup when they see one.

When “SNL” came around, it was clear they would only be emulating the Beatles and not, like, the Who. There was definitely not going to be any attempt on the show to repeat Bridgers’ guitar-smashing solo appearance of 2021. “Hey, I tried,” she says about not quite fully breaking her ax on that occasion; the guitar took a licking, but almost kept on ticking, a resilience she was amused, not annoyed, by.

This year, the group has been more about melting hearts than heating up flame wars — whether that’s been in their more nakedly revealing songs or taking up causes like dressing in drag in Nashville to support the trans community under political attack there, or inviting Indigenous groups to provide invocations before select tour dates.

When the band receives its Group of the Year award at Variety‘s Hitmakers event, Joan Baez will be presenting the honor to the trio. That may seem like an odd pairing if you’re only considering Boygenius’ more irreverent moments, but an utterly apropos matchup if you are keeping in mind the band’s deeply earnest side and, especially, the social conscience that flares up around their performances. As it happens, the group has also performed at Baez’s Bread and Roses benefits in the Bay area.

“Oh my God,” says Dacus. “Sometimes I have to remember how important she is, because in our experience of her, she’s just been super-kind, and complimenting us, and then it’s like, ‘You’re Joan Baez! You made music joyfully political for a whole generation of people!’ Sometimes we lament how people in media are asked to basically be politicians now…”

“Because politicians aren’t being politicians,” Bridgers interjects — “they’re being fucking TV stars.”

“But she set this example of, because you’re a human, you have to stand for things,” Dacus continues. “So, it’s not because we’re musicians that we care about these causes, it’s because we’re people, and we would be caring about them if we all had office jobs. A lot of people are afraid to do that, and she wasn’t, and it’s a great example for us. We are not very afraid to say what we believe. … Just as a person, I hope to be like her.”

Bridgers notes that Baez, in her initial heyday as America’s folkie sweetheart, “was losing opportunities because she was radical — and then that ended up being the fuel for her whole career. How radical she was was then rewarded.” She sums up Baez’s appeal in a nutshell: “Woody Guthrie was screeching this, and I’m gonna sing it.” (They crack up, with Bridgers noting that no offense to anyone living or dead was intended: “We’re big Woody fans.”)

Baker has thoughts about how they earn the right to be what might be perceived as political, whether it’s something as seemingly un-divisive as having Indigenous people do Land Acknowledgements introductions before their sets, or speaking up on trans or reproductive choice issues.

“Giving them something of ourselves in the songs is like an endearment practice, where we’re like, ‘You will trust us because you have an emotional connection to something we’ve said that resonates with you.’ So when we are in drag at the Nashville show [just after the state enacted anti-drag laws], kids are trusting our judgment, because we’ve gone to the trouble of sharing something difficult or even painful for us to communicate. Then it’s worth it for them to enter that conversation, because we’ve set the stakes of like what’s important to communicate, even if involves conflict or pain.”

The songs themselves aren’t always, if ever, aimed at the fans, though. Sometimes the target audience for the material is, well, Boygenius.

“We write songs to each other as a communication method,” Baker says.

Bridgers doesn’t think it should be mistaken for oversharing. “We have plenty of stuff that’s sacred and not shown to anybody other than each other. I think there’s this weird misconception sometimes that we don’t have a private relationship, because so much of it this year has been monetized in our performance.” And yet, Dacus says, their music is as transparently interpersonal as it sounds. “Some friendships over years don’t get to enough of a level of intimacy to share the types of fears and desires and hopes that we are saying.”

“We hang out,” declares Baker, as if this might not be a matter-of-fact thing for a working rock group. (It doesn’t go without saying.)

How long will the hang last?

In October, the band put out a four-song EP called “The Rest,” a sequel or companion piece to “The Record.” The title does have an air of at least temporary finality to it, as if the cupboard is bare. Says Bridgers, “It’s funny that it’s called ‘The Rest,’ because we absolutely do have more songs that we didn’t put out.”

But where do they go from here? In 2023, did the side hustle so overtake the main hustle that they should keep Boygenius going into 2024, when they could certainly sell out sheds or maybe even arenas they didn’t come near this year? They’ve already broken with supergroup form so much; would it be a terrible thing if they were to further break it to the point of unexpectedly doing an immediate, sequential band album? Or do they revert to their solo corners? Fans might wish there could be a multiverse in which the band never pauses, on one track, and individual careers proceed apace on another.

Conventional wisdom would suggest they will not let solo albums go unmade just for the sake of rocking more venues. But you will not get a definitive answer here.

“I don’t know,” says Bridgers. “It’s incredible to me that we have kept the ethos behind the band the whole way, which is: it just has to be fun. We’ve done a lot of shit, but there’s also shit we said no to, stuff that felt like it was like pushing a boundary as far as travel or labor and stuff that sounds like we might push ourselves into not having fun. So that gets to continue forward, after this album cycle. I think we just are gonna do whatever is fun, and remain each other to each other. These guys are as involved in what I do as they are in Boygenius. We show each other ideas, and…”

“We need each other’s brains,” Dacus says.

So is it possible to specifically say that solo albums are what’s next, or do they want to leave a bit of mystery?

The attempt to pin it down leaves them unusually cagey. “It’s a mystery,” Bridgers says.

Dacus: “I’ll just say I’m not thinking about it.”

Bridgers: “Oh, yeah. It’s a mystery to us.”

Dacus, having the final noncommittal word: “If it’s a mystery to you, it’s a mystery to us too.”

Hard to tell whether there might be any real indecision here, or whether they just don’t want to lay out all their cards for the outside world, or whether they might be having a difficult time reconciling themselves to a near-future in which they might be Zoom advisors to one another instead of daily physical confidantes.

In the immediate meanwhile, there is Grammy season, and a slew of awards to be won, or not won. Bridgers has some experience there, with her multiple nominations in 2021. “It was still very deeply fucking COVID when I was nominated, and I was pretty like traumatized last time, and like the only way I felt it was on the phone. To find out in a room full of people and be celebrating, it’s already way more fun.” Dacus says being collectively recognized is “triple the joy, right? Much easier to feel happy for them” than for herself, she says. “Much easier to feel.”

Is there a line from any of their songs that could maybe encapsulate how they’re feeling right now, between the six Grammy noms, the “SNL” appearance and the impending end-of-year accolades? At that question, they start to laugh.

“Give me your funny ones,” someone says.

Then Dacus says, “Ohhh, I have a cute one.”

“Which one?” the others ask, curious to get an earnest answer after all.

Quoting one of her own lyrics, Dacus lowers her voice, as if it’s suddenly occurred to her that it’s a secret that she’s sharing. “‘I never thought you’d happen to me,’” she says.

(x) photos by Jingyu Lin

[civilight-eterna]

for the request pile because they have a stranglehold on my mind: could I please see meteor and whislash flirting? bonus points for meteor being Extremely Smooth and making whislash combust. thank you!

you are SO big brain for this request. thanks for waiting for me as i turned it over in my head for a few weeks now!!

...

"...Got it. So we'll focus on mitigating the discomfort from your injury while we practice. What's your range of motion like?" Meteor asked as they made their way to the targets she'd set up in the forest.

"It's not what it used to be." Zofia catches herself staring, her gaze devouring the line formed by her muscular legs, her hips, her arms, as she follows behind. "It feels like if it's not my arm acting up it's my back."

They reach the field and begin unpacking the equipment.

"Your back?" Meteor inclines her head, expression serious. "Did you sustain a back injury as well?"

Zofia laughs her most musical laugh and partially conceals her mouth behind her hand.

"Ah, no no, nothing of the sort. Just, you see...my girls are a bit of a handful. Growing pains. A bit embarrassing." All said in the tone of voice that was very much far-removed from embarrassment.

Meteor misses a beat-just the one-and then smiles a smile somehow both handsome and beautiful at once.

"Ah, I see. Do you..." A slightly shy, demure laugh, here, "...want me to hold them up for you while you shoot?"

Zofia is not the blushing type. If anything, she's used to being the one causing it-a little tease here, a little pinch there-all good fun!

But the way Meteor looks at her like she knows exactly how to handle both of her tits, like she's already imagining their weight in her hands-

She feels her cheeks darken. She wouldn't be surprised if steam came hissing out her ears.

Meteor just chuckles, her tail fluttering as she turns around to notch an arrow.

"Hmhhm, just kidding." She lets it fly, supernaturally steady, and it sails right into the center of the target. "Come here. I'll spot your posture."

Zofia picks up a bow and draws the string back effortlessly, lets fire an arrow of her own-

"Oh, so you already know how to-!"

-and it completely misses the target.

"Competition knights have to learn many weapon proficiencies before making our final choices." Zofia explains, "Forgive me for the false pretenses. I know how to draw a bow, but I wanted a little more one-on-one than just aim correction usually entails. Perhaps...I just wanted to get to know you a little more?"

"That's fine." Meteor steps into position behind her, a little too closely to be entirely professional. She elevates Zofia's arms with the backside of her own hands, back into position like she's guiding a ballerina rather than an archer.

Her voice at Zofia's ear is so hushed that she barely hears it even with only the swaying rustle of the trees and the long grass to contend with.

"...I might have a few more things to teach you than you'd expect."

[inkwell-intrigues]

ROUGH DRAFT - Chapter One: An Unexpected Guest

The eerie sound of a never-ending tapping filled the once lavish office. Torn newspapers littered the floor, their headlines taunting a hunched over figure in the center of the room, whose eye would dart from page to page, tapping his clawed fingers ceaselessly in anger.

With a growl, the newspaper that was being read suddenly burst into flames and was tossed aside. Glancing around, the latest issue of the Honeycomb Herald caught the figure’s eye. Snatching it up with a mangy hand, he began to read the front page article, his grip tightening with every word.

---

Devil Defunct?

Has the Devil finally left the Inkwell Isles?

It has been 3 months since the dumbfounding defeat of the Devil himself by none other than two youngsters at a mere 10 years of age, no less! Now as the weeks go by and all remains calm, the citizens of the Inkwell Isles cannot help but ask, “Is it over?”

The Devil's lair, Mt. Inkwell Hell, has sealed itself off, as if the Devil's Casino never existed, ever since that fateful day two children stood up to the King of  the Underworld. Though gamblers from Inkwell and beyond vehemently protest, the rest of us upstanding citizens breathe a heavy sigh of relief.

But even in our newfound paradise, rumors have already begun to spread regarding the Devil’s return. There are reported sightings of his devious imps and King Dice’s playing cards sneaking about and causing all sorts of mischief. Although none of these sightings have been confirmed, it presents a worrying question: Is the Devil still here, under our very noses, lying in wait to strike?

To quell our concerns, we turn to vibrant victors and heroes of the Inkwell Isles, Mindful Mugman and Courageous Cuphead, to hear their thoughts on the matter:

Mugman: “Well, I don’t think the Devil is comin’ back. Not after Cups and I made a fool outta him, but I can see why everyone’s so worried. The casino closing all quick-like and people spotting imps runnin’ about is sure strange. But my Elder Kettle says the Devil’s prideful. I don’t think he would be hiding out while everyone’s makin’ fun of him.”

Cuphead: “The Devil? Comin’ back? Hah! Not in a million years. That big ol’ crybaby won’t ever show his sorry face in Inkwell ever again, or anywhere else anywhere near here! Everyone knows how Mugsy and I beat him good, so who’s gonna respect him now? No one wants to sell their soul to a washed up rug who got beat by a couple of kids, that’s for sure.

And if he did try somethin’ stupid, he’s gonna have to go through me and my brother first! So don’t even be worried about it, the Inkwell Isles ain’t gonna be bothered by him and his goons ever again.”

So there you have it, folks! The Cup Brothers, protectors of the Inkwell Isles, are sure that the Devil won’t return. And if he does, he’ll get a walloping of a lifetime!

---

The very temperature of the room seemed to rise as the Devil read the article with sparks flying from his mangy fur. With a swift slash of a yellowed claw, the newspaper was torn cleanly in half and thrown aside into a rapidly growing pile of other ripped apart newspapers. Letting out a half-hearted chuckle, the Devil snapped his fingers and the entire pile of newspapers was set alight.

This was ridiculous. How could such inconsequential, menial mortals dare to mock him? He could eviscerate them with a simple wave of his hand if he so desired. He could-

As the Devil shifted, he knocked over a small vial. One of the many scattered across his desk. The demon’s heart skipped a beat, catching the vial just before it hit the floor. With a gentleness thoroughly unnatural for the Devil, he gingerly laid the vial back on his desk.

This would be his masterpiece. There had never been a more perfectly exacted revenge in all his millennia. If one potion caused his defeat, another would ensure his return.

The Devil was no fool- he knew exactly how those sniveling children had beaten him. It was just his luck that their guardian, that damned Elder Kettle, had somehow gotten ahold of a Calix potion from that bygone era.

Damn him! That old man would pay dearly for his mistake before the end.

And it wasn’t just him. Those brothers had gotten help from her. The Legendary Chalice. She’d helped them, trained them in the Calix’s ancient techniques, and hidden away like a coward as she watched her little puppets do the dirty work. The very thought of Chalice sent a shower of fiery sparks flying off The Devil’s black fur. Her insolence defied even death.

But not for long.

The Devil’s gaze returned to the vial, full of bubbling red liquid. And then there was its complement, another vial which glowed with a light blue liquid.

“Patience,” he muttered to himself as he lit a cigar.

Glancing up, his eyes fell on a chalkboard covered with formulas. He was so close to success. Just a few more tests and it would be perfect. After all these years, he had finally cracked the code of their ancient formulas, and his revenge would be exacted. Not just against those boys, but against his greatest adversary: The Calix Animi.

-

END OF DRAFT

-

So there you have it! My first actual writing in about 6 months! Feel free to leave your thoughts and opinions in the replies!

Thank you for reading!!!

[ofliterarynature]

JANUARY 2024 WRAP UP

[loved liked ok DNF (reread) bookclub*]

Mammoths at the Gates • An Impossible Imposter • Greywaren • The Hexologists • Mister Impossible • Reclaiming Two Spirits • (Check, Please: #Hockey)* • Thornhedge • Call Down the Hawk • All the Hidden Paths • All the Beauty in the World • (The Raven King) • (A Strange and Stubborn Endurance) • (Blue Lily, Lily Blue) • The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie • The Missing Page • Bird By Bird • Lucky Red • Portrait of a Thief

I suppose I may as well start with the giant pile of Maggie Stiefvater and get that out of the way, lol. According to Goodreads, this was at least my 3rd time through the entire Raven Cycle. Despite that, I had only the vaguest idea of what happened in the last two books, and now having reread them (again), yeah, that tracks! I can hang with book 3 but I have no idea what was really going on in The Raven King, and as a series finale I didn't love it. It felt a lot like the dreamer plotlines drowned out the original Glendower and ley line story that we started with. But, Maggie being Maggie, I love the way she writes so much that I at least still enjoyed the reading experience. And it made an incredibly clear lead-in to the Dreamer Trilogy (which I had not read), it made total sense, I was hopeful! Again, Maggie being Maggie, I had a good time reading them, I liked learning more about the Lynch brothers, I'm always down for some art forgery, but I just didn't really like it and (while I'm glad for Maggie that she was able to write it) I could have lived without it. It completely did not have the vibe or charm of TRC and, criminally, did not include the Gangsey. How!!!!

The Missing Page - liked it! It felt a lot more solid as a mystery than the first book, which I greatly appreciated, though the villagers in the first book were maybe a bit more fun. I'm not feeling particularly inspired to go look up more Cat Sebastian after this, but if she writes another one of these I'd read it.

The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie - I've had this one on my mystery tbr for a while, and for some reason I'd thought it was set in a much earlier time period than the 1950's? lol. Our protagonist is the youngest of 3 sisters growing up in genteel poverty with an absent father, and she has the run of the village, the house, and an incredibly well stocked chemistry lab left by an ancestor. She is both incredibly clever and terribly naive, and absolutely terrifying because of it. Flavia is fascinating as a detective, because she's not written as the protagonist of a middle grade mystery novel - she's a child. This was an interesting read, but I'm not sure it's what I'm looking for in a mystery novel and I don't think I'll continue the series.

A Strange and Stubborn Endurance - reread this in advance of the sequel - it was a bit easier to see some flaws this time around, but had a good time! This *was* my first time listening to it on audio though, and I'm not sure I'd recommend it. It had a different person reading for each of the main characters and their voices just didn't pair well for me - not to mention one of them also read Lev AC Rosen's Lavender House and boy does he do some distinctive character voices.

All the Hidden Paths - didn't go quite so well. I think primarily my mental space was not pairing well with the tensions of reading this for the first time, I do think on a reread I might like it better. Somehow the spy/saboteur was my favorite character? He was soo bad at his job, I found it very funny. But overall, I think it was just a little too close to a rehash of the plot from the first book, leaving me to think Meadows might not be the best at writing mysteries. Luckily it does at least score high on my romance scale.

All the Beauty in the World: The Metropolitan Museum of Art and Me - first nonfic of the year! I've been eagerly anticipating my library getting an audio copy ever since I first heard about this last year, it sounded cool, I'm fascinated by art museums and behind-the-scenes! Unfortunately I was not into it, and almost 2 months on I can't remember enough to even try to tell you why. It did pair interestingly with another recent read, The Mixed Up Files of Mrs Basil E Frankweiler, but I'm still learning how far into memoir territory I can go. Someone stop me from trying the other Met nonfic book I found recently lol.

Thornhedge - wonderful! No notes! I love fairy tales and this was a delight to read.

Check, Please! #Hockey - loved getting to revisit this for book club! I've been meaning to for a few years, because y'all. I've read so much fanfic, and I have no idea what is in the comic, what Ngozi posted as extras, and what is fanon. The comic had less than I was expecting! Still fun, my fellow book-clubber liked it, but my real love was the tweets! I'll definitely try to read Vol 2 this year so I can then browse the larger collection of them compiled in the Chirpbook.

Reclaiming Two Spirits: I saw this one on tumblr and fortunately was able to get access to the audiobook! It's a topic I was very interested in learning more about, and I did! But - this is a research project, more than anything, it could be very repetitive (which, fair. colonizers suck), and it felt distanced from its subject. I feel it's a book that definitely has its place, but it's not objectively a 'good read,' and I'd rather have had something from someone who is indigenous and two-spirit themselves.

The Hexologists - it has its quirks, but this was unapologetically a delight to read and I had a fun time! I'm a sucker for a world with a magic vs industrial revolution, not to mention a married pair of established investigators, and I always appreciate an author who's willing to get a bit silly. If there's ever more books I'd love to read them!

An Impossible Imposter - she is what she is, I had a good time! This one felt like it might have taken some inspo from The Moonstone 👀

Mammoths at the Gate - had a good time with this, as I always do with the Singing Hills books. Stories about stories are like catnip, I should reread them all sometime!

Bird by Bird by Ann Lamott (DNF) - I have only the vaguest memories of reading parts of this for a creative writing class in college, and now that I'm getting more into nonfiction thought why not? Unfortunately the audiobook version I got was read by the author, who absolutely does not have an audiobook voice/cadence. I considered trying again with the version read by someone else, but decided I wasn't actually interested enough to continue.

Lucky Red By Claudia Cravens (DNF) - the host of one of the podcasts I listen to was gushing about this one and I was like, sapphic western? Sign me up! I read about 25% of it, and it all seemed fine, it just wasn't feeling particularly interesting to me. Absolutely give it a shot if you'd like!

Portrait of a Thief by Grace D Li (DNF) - I knew going in this had been getting mixed reviews. I really like the idea of it - I enjoy a heist, am always interested in fine arts/art history drama, and vigilante art repatriation hell yeah! But this felt very much like it was trying to emulate a heist *movie*, and it just wasn’t working for me as a book. If this ever gets adapted I’d love to see it.

[wrenreid]

Just Acting

18+ content in this story | all chapters in ML

Chapter Thirteen

This is the last day of the trip. Thank the Lord. You need to get out of here and not deal with Matthew any longer.

You're trying to push the kiss out of your mind. It didn't happen. But it fucking did. It sadly did. You laugh and think a horrible thought. That's more than you've gotten out of Jordan. Shit, Jordan. You need to text him.

Joe is making breakfast while the rest of you are deciding what you want to do for the rest of the day until you have to leave.

You all sit around the table and eat the waffles, bacon, and eggs Joe had whipped up for you guys. You drink your orange juice contently. Matthew is at the end of the table. You don't strain your neck to look at him at all.

After today, you don't have to see him as Matthew. You'll see him as Spencer when you're filming and Spencer when you're together trying to please your bosses. At least you actually like the Spencer side of him. Awkward genius definitely trumps asshole actor.

You put away your dishes into the sink, and head outside with the girls. You decide to take a hike together. You're dressed in biker shorts, an oversized t shirt, and your white sneakers. You tie your shirt wavy hair in a half up half down style.

The four of you walk and talk as the wind grazes your skin. The sun shines above you guys, making its way to the top of the sky as noon grows near.

"You doing better?" Paget asks.

"Yeah I am actually." You shoot her a smile.

You've decided to put this whole Matthew thing behind you. Yes, it happened, but it won't ever happen again. So it doesn't matter. Right? You just wish you could stop thinking about it.

After about an hour, you girls decide to head back to the house. You find the guys swimming in the lake. Matthew jumps off the cliff as you approach the picnic tables. You take off your shoes, just in case someone splashes, and set them on the other side of the table.

"Y/n, can you come here?" Joe asks from the little cliff. He's looking at something on the ground.

"Uh sure." You get up and walk over to him. "What do you...?" You don't even get to finish your sentence because you're falling into the lake. Falling isn't the best term, obviously, you were pushed. When you come up, you yell. "I will get you, old man!"

The others are laughing. Your clothes are soaked. You hate it. But this is a chance to show them you can have fun. You swim around, laughing and talking with your friends.

You swim then walk out of the lake, dripping water from your clothes and hair. Your shirt is completely see through now. You strip it off, ringing it out. Everyone else is getting out now, since it's almost time to go home. You head upstairs, trying and failing to not drip water everywhere, and hop in the shower to rinse off. You don't really wash your hair thoroughly, just get the lake water off of your body. You change into jeans and an old band t shirt and your white sneakers.

"Honestly, I don't think I want to leave this place,” you say, looking around.

"Me either. It's so nice out here," Aisha says, slipping on her shoes. The two of you head downstairs.

When you get to the bottom, you catch Matthew's eyes from the top of the steps as he leaves his room. You look away again, focusing your attention to the others.

Before you know it, it's time for everyone to get back to Los Angeles. You, Adam, and Aisha say your goodbyes and head to his car. Aisha and Adam pile into the front seats, and you sit behind the passenger's.

You check your phone. 2 missed calls and 6 text messages from Jordan, your sister freaking out because you weren't responding, and Jess making jokes about how you'd be spending the next 3 days with Matthew.

"Sorry Jordan. Joe said no phones for the weekend,” I send him.

To be honest, you really hadn't thought about texting Jordan the entire time. It's not a bad thing, you assure yourself. You only didn't think about him because you were busy with your friends. Is it bad though? That you didn't think about your boyfriend the entire time until you and Matthew were...

Fuck. You kissed Matthew. He kissed me. But you kissed him back while you have a boyfriend.

You're not entirely thrilled about going back into the fast city, but it'll be great to get back into your regularly scheduled life. You watch the opposite of three days ago happen, as you see the quiet lakeside views turn back into crazy LA from the window of Adam's car.

You three arrive at his place. "Bye y'all!" You wave with a grin.

"Bye Y/n, see you tomorrow?"

"Yep," you smile.

You get into your car and start your way to Dunkin. You know Jess will be there. It's 5pm, so she should be getting off soon.

It's 5:30 by the time you get to Dunkin. Jess gets off at 5:30. You catch her grabbing her things just in time.

"Y/n!! You're back!" She gives you a hug.

"Yes! I was wondering if you wanted to come over since it's been a while?"

"Definitely! You want to get a coffee first don't you?"

"You know me so well," you say.

You order your usual, you both get into your cars and head to your apartment.

"So how was the weekend?" She asks, eyebrows wiggling.

"It was good. Other than Matthew being a dick, it went well,” you tell her.

"What'd he do?"

"Just being rude and annoying. It wasn't horrible I guess, most of the time we ignored each other."

And we made out on his bed.

"Well that's good,” Jess says.

"Yeah it was just a bit stressful when I was around him. But I did have fun."

I sat in his lap...

"That's great! You definitely needed to have fun for once,” she chuckles.

"I have fun."

"Do you though?" Her eyebrow raises accusingly.

"Work is fun,” you tell her

"Okay ,I get that acting is great, but it can't be like an amazing adventure."

You roll your eyes. "You hungry?"

"Yes. Starving,” she says dramatically.

You order takeout, and it gets to your apartment in about twenty minutes.

Jess and you enjoy your noodles and chicken as you talk more about your weekends. She saw Jacklyn again, and their relationship is getting more serious.

She decides to spend the night, and you two watch some tv until you need to turn in for the night. The two of you fall asleep on your bed around 1am.

Spencer has been walking with a pep in his step ever since he admitted his feelings to Delilah and to himself. Opening up is one hell of a risk, like jumping off a cliff with no safety net. There's absolutely nothing to stop the fall from going too far, nothing but your own willpower of self protecting. Spencer has gotten pretty good at that in his life time.

But this one would be different. Hopefully. She was everything he wanted. Yes, his past was rocky... more like rocks with shards of glass poking out at you and you can't escape from getting your feet cut, but he wanted this. He wanted her. Finally, for the first time in a long time, he wanted someone who was right. Maeve would want this, he reminds himself. She would want me to be happy again.

And he is happy again. Delilah is smart, passionate, kind, funny, easy to talk to, and caring. She listens to him when he rambles on about random topics that live in his magnificent brain. And, she would never let him do something he wasn't comfortable with. He finds it hard to talk about emotions and do things that reflect his emotions, but she won't push him. She knows his past; she knows about Maeve, and Cat, and everyone else. It doesn't bother her. She just wants to make sure he knows he's safe and that he's comfortable.

Spencer smiles, making his drive to the FBI headquarters in Quantico, Virginia. He used to take the metro, but driving alone and getting to think and think out loud without strangers giving him dirty looks or trying to mug him was nice.

As he steps out of the elevator, Spencer gets greeted with the sight of his boss and very close friend, Emily Prentiss. She's filling up a mug with coffee in the corner of the bullpen.

"Good morning, Dr. Chirpy," she says with a smile.

Everyone's been noticing Spencer's new aura of cheerfulness, and they're definitely suspecting a girl is involved. He'll tell them who she is eventually, but it's fun for him to see them itch with anticipation and wonder.

Eventually, everyone else arrives at work, and the team spills into the briefing room to start the new case.

_____

"Hey, Jenna!"

"Yes?"

"Can you take these stacks upstairs to Sophie in room 13?" Delilah stands up, papers in hand. She meets Jenna at the doorway of her office and handed them to her.

"Yeah, sure thing!" Jenna takes them from her with a smile.

Delilah paused, making sure she wasn't imagining things. "Is that my perfume?" She sniffs.

"Oh um," Jenna furrows her eyebrows in embarrassment. "I'm so sorry. It just smelled really good, and I forgot to use some this morning..."

"It's okay. Just ask, and you can use it anytime,” Delilah says, a slightly awkward smile on her face.

Jenna relaxes her stance, "Okay." With that, she leaves to do as she was asked.

Delilah sat back in her desk chair, getting back to work. Spencer is away in Washington state at the moment. He had texted her from the jet, letting her know he wouldn't be able to see her for a while. She didn't like it when Spencer left, not because she wanted him with her at all times like a clingy girl, but because she couldn't make sure he was safe when he was miles and miles away.

Delilah knew that she would have to get used to him leaving every week. Which she was almost fine with, because the times they did spend together were perfect because they were together.

_____

"Miss Reign?" Jenna knocks at Delilah's half open office door, dressed in a grey pencil skirt and a purple blouse.

"Please, Delilah," she smiles at her assistant.

"Sorry. Delilah," Jenna says.

"Yes?"

"There's a guy here to see you. Last name Reid."

Delilah looks at her a lottle confused. "Send him in."

"Hey," Spencer says, coming into her office.

"I thought you weren't coming home for another few days,” she says, a smile growing on her face.

"Well, criminals are unpredictable so..." he shrugs.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. It's just been a rough couple of days,” he answers.

She grabs his face. "I'm glad you're home safe."

"Me too...so that I can see you." Spencer pulls her in by the waist, planting a gentle kiss on her mouth.

"As much as I love this, I can't commit pda at work."

"Commit? Sounds like you're a criminal..." he presses his lips to Delilah's again, moving his mouth against hers.

"Yeah, yeah,” she rolls her eyes, kissing him back.

"I handcuff criminals you know.”

"Spencer!" She laughs-gasps, pulling away from his lips. He's never said anything like that before, and she kind of liked it. "I have work to do, Dr Reid."

He gives her a pouty face, pushing out his lower lip and batting his gorgeous hazel eyes.

"Oh come on, none of that." Delilah says, pointing to his handsome frowny expression.

He drops his pout, "When do you get off?"

"In twenty."

"I can deal with that. I'll be down the block,” he says.

"Okay," she says before Spencer leans in and gives her one more soft kiss. He makes his way out of her office, then out of the lobby and down the block to a coffee shop.

When she sits down, Delilah sees Jenna looking at her through the naked window of her office. She had left up the blinds so that she didn't feel so claustrophobic in her office. Jenna looked away quickly when she met Delilah's gaze.

She knew it was very unprofessional to kiss your (boyfriend?) at work, especially in front of your employees. He definitely makes her want to do things she normally wouldn't.

When she finally was getting ready to leave the office, she saw Jenna come through the front door.

"Where'd you run off to?" Delilah asks.

"I needed some water. I got you some too."

"Oh okay. Thank you." She normally would be like 'ask if you can leave next time bit..." but she didn't really care at the moment, and she got her some water so it was fine this time.

"Okay you two can clear out," Delilah says to Jenna and Marcos, the manager her father hired a while back.

They leave, and Delilah gets to go meet Spencer at the coffee shop.

_____

You choose not to say anything to Matthew in between scenes or after you're done filming for the night. You're not necessarily mad at him anymore, you can't be since you reacted upon what he did. It's a clean slate between you two now. Or at least you try to make it one.

"Knock knock," Matthew's voice rings from outside of your trailer door. You're already dressed back in your clothes, a hoodie and running shorts since it's pretty late at night.

"Come in,” you say.

"Look I knocked!" He grins.

"Sort of,” you correct. “Do you need something?"

"You, me, tomorrow night. Or should I say, Spencer, Delilah, tomorrow night. Eight o'clock."

"We're hanging out?"

"We're hanging out,” he nods. “Like we talked about.”

You sigh softly. Okay.”

"I'll see you then,” Matthew says then exits your trailer.

chapter fourteen

tags: @pauline5525mgg @theintimatewriter @lilibet261 @greysviolets @jazzymariexoxoc @one-sweet-gubler @thatsonezesty13 @necromaniackat @awhoreforspencerreid @sebs-oxygen @scarredelirium @bts-sugaplum @awesomeness1679 @preciousbabypeter @yazzyu @cynbx @r3idsp3ncer @1010lizz @tiredbut-here @skulzombiw @lena-1895 @eevee0722 @danis-stuff-is-here @kylakins88 @daydreamingqueen1 <3

[masterqwertster]

🏴‍☠️ Laudna and Imogen or Ashton, whichever you prefer

Prompt Now that I've released the set-up for a "pirate" AU, let's have some fun with specific characters

Imogen doesn't usually retreat to the Green Cabin when she needs space.

The converted Captain's Quarters belongs mostly to Ashton, the rocks and soil keeping the Titan blooded genasi from going too stir crazy on a ship far from their element, and a little bit to Orym and Fearne, both keeping the plants growing within happy and healthy.

But usually her mother (who left never to return before Imogen could even remember her) isn't on her ship and necessitating a locked door to get the hint that she doesn't want to talk to her.

"Just say the word and this smuggling job never happened," Ashton says from where they lounge against their favorite dirt pile, eyes never leaving the grinding, rasping metal file they're taking to their nails.

"I do not want to murder my mother," Imogen insists, for once not entirely sure who she's trying to convince, and picks up the speed of her pacing.

"Then what do you want? Because right now, it looks like you're searching for floorboards the hard way in here," he says mildly, miss-matched eyes flicking up to track her for a moment.

Imogen groans in frustration flopping down next to the genasi. It's a fucking marvel that it feels like falling against a stack of pillows, and the brief thought of what kind of Titan bullshit they must pull to make it so wanders through her mind.

"I think what I want is for her to respect that I'm the fuckin' captain of this ship and not the toddler she left for whatever the fuck she thinks she's doin' that's gonna fix the whole mind readin' mess better than my circlet does," Imogen finally vents.

"Can't really help with that," Ashton shrugs, putting the file down on a spread cloth and picking up a bottle of rock polish. "Mind shit is yours and Letters's wheelhouse."

"I know. And even then, it's not like we can force people to change their minds. Plus she's probably better at it than me anyways," Imogen complains. "I just– It should not be too much to ask that she look at me and see an adult capable of makin' my own decisions, ya know? 'Cause I am capable. Got a whole ship to call my own to prove that I'm so capable."

"Laudna needs to find more words to describe you than 'capable' if you're going to start in on it too," Ashton muses.

"You take that back," she says in all mock seriousness as she shoves their arm for the slight against her girlfriend, equally gratified and annoyed when they choose to sway with the force that couldn't actually move them.

"I don't think I will," he deadpans, soldiering on before she takes it into a spiraling distraction of faux pettiness. "You want her to see something other than what she thinks she sees, you're going to have to shock her. Hard. Like the mutiny, when the fucker realized I could have sunk this ship the moment I decided I was fine going down with it."

Imogen shudders at the memory. The bloody battle of the mutiny had been scary enough for a back country witch-girl that barely knew what she was doing. But she'll never forget that moment when Ashton stalked across the deck for the then-captain. How the planks groaned as if Ashton's considerable weight was even greater still. How the sea was smooth and the air still under storming skies in that moment, all under the control of the eidolons answering Ashton's call. They hadn't known Ashton was Titan of blood back then, but there was certainly no denying in that moment that the ship's luck, it's fate, was in Ashton's hands. And he wasn't doing anything he hadn't been forced to do before to bring it there.

But...

"I have no clue what would shock her enough to understand that I'm not the helpless little girl she abandoned," Imogen laments.

"You could get hot and heavy with Laudna in the middle of the deck," Ashton blandly suggests.

"...You've been hangin' out with Fearne and Chetney too long," Imogen chokes out after processing that suggestion. "I'm not subjectin' Laudna to- to voyeurism just to get my mom off my ass!"

"I dunno. She might be into it if Pâté's anything to judge by."

"Sh-shut up!" Imogen blushes furiously.

The asshole laughs at her.

"So definitely not Plan A," he continues blithely. "Could always murder the shit out of the next problem we come across. Nothing like being bathed in the blood of your enemies to break a sense of innocence."

Still not great, but definitely better than dragging Laudna into that.

"Maybe. I think it might be best to workshop it around," Imogen hesitantly agrees.

"Sure. Your problem, your choice. We'll be there."

That's what Imogen likes about this crew: everyone handles problems in their own ways, but they also have each other's backs. Always.

[apocalypticavolition]

Let's (re)Read The Dragon Reborn! Chapter 37: Fires in Cairhien

This picture doesn't depict anything in the chapter, but it does depict things in the chapter several days before the chapter happens, more or less. Don't like it? Take up fanarting! And also beware of spoilers because I am addicted to them and am liable to tell you exactly how this whole series ends right under the Keep Reading, for kicks.

This chapter begins with the rising sun icon because our girls are in Cairhien.

A village was sliding past, or what had been a village once. Half the houses were only smoldering piles of rubble with chimneys sticking starkly out of the ruins. On the other houses, doors swung with the wind, and pieces of furniture, bits of clothing and houseware littered the dirt street, tumbled about as if thrown. Nothing living moved in the village except for one half-starved dog that ignored the passing ship as it trotted out of sight behind the toppled walls of what appeared to have been an inn.

The fact that the civil war is escalating to such scorched earth tactics shows how the social order in Carhien broke down long ago. They've been rotting from within for a long time - at least twenty years - and now it's festering in the open. The grand contraction of humankind continues; without the coming political upheavals, I think Cairhien would have been the next nation that vanished off of the map.

She vowed to learn at least some of what it was they were doing; she did not like feeling ignorant.

Even in a setting where the people around her aren't practicing a skillset that will ever be relevant to her, Egwene wants to learn. Pirate!Egwene AU when?

Andoran soldiers do hold a few towns on the Cairhienin side.

An early echo of the ultimate merger between Andor and Cairhien, this one - and of course another way it's easy to see how Cairhien might have faded away entirely, with everything in their heartlands irrelevant and their towns on the trade network absorbed into an Andor that is itself a generation or two away from admitting to the world that it has no real authority west of Whitebridge.

Trees that made flowers in the spring had them, tiny white blossoms on snowberry and bright red sugarberry. One tree she did not know was covered in round white flowers bigger than her two hands together. Occasionally a climbing wild-rose put swaths of yellow or white through branches thick with the green of leaves and the red of new growth. It was all too sharp a contrast to the ashes and rubble to be entirely pleasant.

Egwene is already too drawn into the current White Tower-centric order of the world to be comforted by the truth of the fact that its inevitable breaking is just making way for new things to grow.

In one dream he had been on a huge stones board, the black and white stones as big as boulders, and him dodging the monstrous hands that moved them and seemed to try to crush him under them. It could have meant something. It very probably did, but beyond the fact that Rand was in danger from someone, or two someones—she thought that much was clear—beyond that, she simply did not know.

The symbolism of Rand as the Fisher King is entirely lost to Egwene because she doesn't know the game. Less justifiably, she also misses the message that at this point Rand is not his own player in the game but just another piece; his promotion will only occur when he finishes crossing from one side of the game board to the other.

She had dreamed of Perrin with a wolf, and with a falcon, and a hawk—and the falcon and the hawk fighting—of Perrin running from someone deadly, and Perrin stepping willingly over the edge of a towering cliff while saying, “It must be done. I must learn to fly before I reach the bottom.” There had been one dream of an Aiel, and she thought that had to do with Perrin, too, but she was not sure.

Most of these are relatively obvious but the dream of Perrin is fun because it's both a short-term dream (Perrin running into the Wolf Dream to save Faile at the end of the book) and a long-term one (he'll promptly ignore the Dream for most of the rest of the series until there's no other choice).

And a dream of Min, springing a steel trap but somehow walking through it without so much as seeing it.

Min sets off the Tower coup but escapes it.

Of Mat with dice spinning ’round him—she felt she knew where that one came from—of Mat being followed by a man who was not there—she still did not understand that; there was a man following, or maybe more than one, but in some way there was no one there—of Mat riding desperately toward something unseen in the distance that he had to reach, and Mat with a woman who seemed to be tossing fireworks about.

I don't blame Egwene for not understanding how Mat is about to reinterpret fireworks in a horrifying way (another dream that is both short- and long-term), but not understanding the Grey Men right away is silly.

Men and women breaking out of a cage, then putting on crowns.

The Forsaken being freed and making themselves the rulers of the world.

A woman playing with puppets, and another dream where the strings on puppets led to the hands of larger puppets, and their strings led to still greater puppets, on and on until the last strings vanished into unimaginable heights.

This is probably Graendal specifically.

Kings dying, queens weeping, battles raging. Whitecloaks ravaging the Two Rivers. She had even dreamed of the Seanchan again. More than once. Those she shut away in a dark corner; she would not let herself think of them. Her mother and father, every night.

The kings dying include those of Arad Doman and Amadicia, the queens weeping include Morgase and possibly Tylin, and the battles duh. The rest is pretty straightforward and like Egwene herself admits, her dreams about her family are only caused by homesickness.

The servants said Mat had been right about the civil war in Cairhien, and what it had done to prices. To Egwene’s surprise, Elayne had pointed out that Brown sisters wore wool more often than silk.

Nynaeve trusts Mat enough to at least test his claims, which is sweet, and despite Egwene being starstruck by the Aes Sedai, Elayne has enough sense to pay attention to what the women are actually wearing. Egwene is definitely being a bit myopic.

“I can ignore it because I do not want to think of what the people are going through, because I cannot do anything about it, and because we have to reach Tear. Because what we’re hunting is in Tear.”

Boy does she have leadership traits though, good and ill.

If the fighting is as bad as what we’ve seen on the banks. . . . Well. You cannot feed a people for twenty years and feel nothing for them when they must be starving.

Elayne also has leadership qualities, but more well-rounded ones.

“Do not be so hard on yourself,” she whispered back. “Perhaps it does mean that, but I did not see it, and neither did Nynaeve.”

Counterpoint, maybe all three of you girls are fools! What is the point of infodumps if you refuse to retain the info???

“You blind worm of a farmer!” he roared toward the man in the bow, who was clinging to the rail to keep from falling the rest of the way over. “You dirt-grubbing get of a goat! Haven’t you been on the river long enough yet to recognize how the water ruffles over a mudflat?”

I need to remember to add these to my repertoire.

Nynaeve appeared at the head of the ladder that led down to the passenger cabins, still straightening her skirts. With a sharp tug at her braid, she frowned at the knot of men in the bow, then strode to Egwene and Elayne. “He ran us onto something, did he? After all his talk of knowing the river as well as he knows his wife. The woman probably never receives as much as a smile from him.”

Nynaeve continues to be the best, even when she's ridiculously judgmental.

She drew a deep breath, but her voice grew tighter. “Have I explained my reasoning fully enough? Do you need more?”

Nynaeve is NOT used to Egwene being basically her equal, but she's at least trying. This is why Elayne's playing peacemaker of course, because she knows that as hot-tempered as Nynaeve is, Egwene's clearly trying to take over the party.

“We will reach Tear,” Egwene said. “And sooner once Nynaeve realizes she is not the Wisdom any longer. We are all”—she did not say Accepted; there were two many men hurrying about—“on the same level, now.” Elayne sighed.

Egwene's right to chafe under authority that doesn't actually bind her, but again Elayne is actually the barometer we can use to judge the others by. If she's tired of Egwene's shit, it's because she has reason to think that Egwene is starting fights for the sake of fighting.

Nynaeve’s mouth thinned. “If need be,” she told the air in front of her, “we can frighten off any brigands the way we did those Whitecloaks. If we can find no other way.”

Nynaeve is willing to do what it takes to survive, but note how she is clearly respecting Verin by not wanting it to be the first move they make.

A figure in brown and gray rose from behind a bush standing by itself almost in front of them.

Oh thank fuck, it's Aviendha. Elayne finally has someone to talk to who isn't insane! Well, mostly not insane. Or uh... compatibly insane with her?

Next time: Aviendha introduces herself! Also probably other stuff, it would be a short chapter otherwise.

[practically-an-x-man]

Jasper & Kyle for “shh, it’s okay. i’ll carry you up.” if you please? :)

Oooh, good one! This definitely feels like a Kyle and Jasper prompt :D

____ Sprained

Word Count: 1.7k Content Warnings: mentions of hospitals and injury, not severe

____

He'd gone down in the second bout. There were only six minutes left in the entire match, and the Brawlers were up by a whole eight points, and as long as they could hold onto that lead they had the whole game in the bag. He'd been proud of himself, too. He was moving fast, the rumble of his skates so loud it reminded him of a jet taking off, and he'd been responsible for half of their impressive lead.

And then he dipped a hair too low on the straightaway, and his skate caught the edge of the rink - just that little seam where the slant met the floor, hardly anything more than some really rotten luck - and Jasper took a rather spectacular fall.

He'd gotten his skate off before his ankle could swell inside it, though he knew just from a glance that it was sprained at least. Every motion sent shooting pain up and down his leg. The chain of swears that left his mouth, half pain and half frustration at being benched for the foreseeable future, was downright legendary.

The daggerlike shriek of a whistle tore through the air just a moment later, freezing the bout in its tracks. Falls happened all the time. Bumps and bruises weren't worth stopping the match. But when Jasper didn't get back up to his feet right away, things became a little more serious.

"Hey, what happened? You okay?" Adrianna asked, dropping to her knees and sliding up to Jasper's side to take a look at the wound. Jasper shifted, then grimaced as the motion sent fresh bolts of pain up his leg.

"Twisted it on the edge of the rink. Sprained or broken." he answered through gritted teeth, "Gonna need ice packs and an X-ray."

"Trip to the emergency room it is," she decided, briskly undoing her own skates and tossing them aside. She reached for Jasper's remaining skate and added it to the pile, then hopped up to her feet and offered him her arm for support.

"Jazz!" The sound of Kyle's voice made his head snapped up, and Jasper twisted around to see him clambering straight over the railing that divided the rink from the viewing area.

"Hey, you can't-" someone protested, and a stray hand almost caught Kyle's shirt in an effort to pull him back. They missed by an inch.

"That's his boyfriend, it's fine!" Rita, another of Jasper's teammates, shouted back as Kyle dropped into the rink. His sneakers squeaked on the lacquered floor, but he was by Jasper's side in an instant. Despite the growing agony in his ankle, a bit of his tension eased just at that. It was easy to feel safe with Kyle.

"Hey, you alright?" he said, setting one hand on Jasper's shoulder and leaning over to look at his continually-swelling ankle, "Ooh, ouch, that's not fun. We gotta get you to a hospital."

"Yeah," Jasper agreed, forcing himself to take in a deeper breath. If it was any benefit, he didn't feel nauseous, which took the odds of it being truly broken down a few percent. A sprain still wasn't fun, but at least it didn't mean two months in a medical boot.

"D'you wanna stay and watch the rest of the bout?" Kyle asked, sparing a glance at the other skaters. Jasper shook his head.

"Sorry, but-"

"Don't be sorry." Adrianna cut him off, "Go get that checked out."

Jasper nodded, though the motion was tight with pain. He set a hand on Kyle's shoulder, the other on Adrianna's, and used the two of them to get up to his feet. Kyle's arm snuck around his waist, keeping him steady with barely a thought.

The pain easily doubled once he was on his feet, and he muttered a chain of swears through gritted teeth. One of the little-known rules of roller derby: swearing only counted as foul play if it was directed at another player. He could cuss himself blue in the face, injury or not, and the referees wouldn't bat an eye.

With Kyle on his left and Adrianna on his right, he was able to hobble out to the parking lot and slide into the passenger seat of his car.

"Text me when you get home," Adrianna instructed, wearing a mask of concern even as she shifted on her sock-clad feet. Jasper nodded.

"Text me if we win." he fired back (entirely forgetting that his phone was still secured in his locker), "And go kick their asses."

"Aye-aye, Captain."

That got a bit of a laugh out of him, and Adrianna grinned as she walked away. Jasper pulled his door shut and fastened his seatbelt as Kyle slid into the driver's seat- and laughed as his partner whacked his knees on the underside of the dashboard.

"Fuck. Why do you have to be so short, Jazz?"

"Genetics." he deadpanned, "Who knows, they might chop my foot off and make me even shorter. Do you know how to get to the hospital?"

" 'Course I do, you work there."

"Ugh, c'mon, don't go to that one," Jasper huffed, "I'll never hear the end of it. Go to Touro."

"Touro's shit, and East is closer." Kyle responded, twisting around to back the car out of its parking space. He didn't drive much anymore, not since he'd been brought back - he'd gotten his coordination back, now a year and a half after the accident, but he still didn't quite trust himself to navigate the chaos of New Orleans traffic. That, and he didn't want to risk being pulled over.

Jasper almost found it sweet that his health made the exception.

The ER was packed. And it wasn't like working there helped him jump the line - as always, it was emergencies first, and it wasn't as if he'd keel over if his ankle went unwrapped for another ten minutes. But ten minutes quickly became an hour. Then two.

It was approaching midnight when he was finally called back. The pain in his ankle had dulled to a low throb, and he'd been dozing on Kyle's shoulder when he was finally nudged awake. The sick sludge of emotions coating the emergency room was somehow easier to manage when he was pressed so close to Kyle's sunshine.

If it was any consolation to the long wait, the actual diagnosis was fairly efficient. If it weren't for the X-ray (confirming that it was sprained, not broken), Jasper could have done it all from home. His ankle was wrapped, he was given a chemical ice pack and a mild painkiller, and he and Kyle were sent on their way.

One part painkiller and one part exhaustion, he dozed on the car ride back to the apartment too. He was woken only by his car door being pulled open, the shift causing his head to dip and Kyle to swear under his breath. Jasper let out a sleepy hum, squinting under the harsh streetlights that bathed the car. Moving clumsily, he managed to get his seatbelt unlocked, and tried to slide out of his seat. He winced when the motion sent fresh pain jolting up his leg.

"Hey, Jazz, I've got you." Kyle assured him, and Jasper felt strong arms slide around him. There was a part of him - a very distant, quiet part - that felt almost embarrassed about all of this. He felt like a child, pretending to sleep so he'd be carried to bed. Not that that trick had ever worked on his mother.

But Kyle was safe. It was an anthem he'd touted almost since the day they'd met, and even through all the hard times that came after. Kyle was safe. There'd never once be judgement or mockery or anything other than care, not since the beginning.

Kyle pulled him into a bridal carry, secure in his arms, and knocked the door closed with his hip. Jasper shifted again, thinking of all the keys and doors that stood in their way- and three flights of stairs. Kyle was strong, but-

"Ssh, it's okay," Kyle murmured, readjusting his grip to keep Jasper in his arms, "I'll carry you up."

"Mm. You sure?"

"Yeah. I'm sure. It's alright, baby."

So he let himself relax back against Kyle's chest, and basked in the warm golden comfort that radiated off of him like the sunrise. It was all too easy to fall asleep when he had that surrounding him.

He found himself stirring again, a few minutes later - Kyle was gently running a makeup wipe over his face, swiping away the sweat and smeared face paint. Jasper wouldn't have minded a shower, with his skin crawling with sweat and grime from the bout, but he didn't have the energy to deal with that right now (even if he didn't have to balance on his unsprained foot in the process). It would have to wait for the morning.

Kyle helped him out of his jersey, and into a shirt that was a bit too large and smelled like his cologne. Jasper found himself burrowing into the garment, even as a faint frown crossed his face.

"Left all my stuff..." he found himself mumbling, another half-asleep thought drifting close enough to grab, "At the rink. My phone. N' my jacket. My shoes."

"I'll swing by tomorrow morning," Kyle promised, softly lifting his injured foot to set a pillow underneath it. From the back of his mind, Jasper was glad so much of his medical knowledge seemed to have rubbed off on him. "Just get some sleep, babe."

"C'mere." Jasper insisted, patting the mattress beside him. A soft smile crossed Kyle's face, accompanied by a rush of warm pink from his chest, and he climbed into bed beside his partner.

Jasper slid over, about as much as he could manage with his foot propped up, and let out a contented sigh as he settled against Kyle's body. Kyle turned his head, his lips whispering lightly across Jasper's temple.

He was asleep in moments. There was nowhere safer.

[howtowhumpyourhiccup]

The Depths Are A Mercy

Summary: Written for AI-less Whumptober 2023 Day 6. Set during Httyd 2. Toothless comes to after Drago’s Bewilderbeast took his mind. He remembers nothing, but that isn’t a mercy.

Warning: Canonical character death, major character death, mind control

Rating: General

Characters: Hiccup, Toothless

Pairing: /

Words: 667

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Prompt: Mind control, Forced to hurt someone else

Whumpee: Hiccup, Toothless

Author’s Notes: Saw these prompts, thought of Toothless in Httyd 2, though I already had a fic like this, but apparently that wasn't true!

Enjoy!

@ailesswhumptober

XOXOX

When he comes to, Toothless doesn't even remember the battle. The farthest his memory goes is the fun in Valka's den, but even that is vague. So when this strange veil lifts from his mind and the mental pressure lightens, he sits and tries to get his bearings. At first, he’s disoriented and confused, but not in any kind of distress. Why would he be? As far as he’s concerned, there was no battle taking place and the utter silence of the snowfield doesn’t convince him otherwise.

But despite his confusion, his immediate instinct is still to look for Hiccup.

Who runs past him, straight at the unmoving form of Stoick the Vast.

He lies in a pile of ice chunks and Toothless knows that should strike him as strange, but it doesn’t. Not immediately. It’s like he’s not entirely there yet.

It’s not until Hiccup is in distress and the other Dragon Riders are landing that he catches up completely, that he knows something is wrong.

“Dad!” Hiccup shouts as he rolls his father onto his back, Valka dives in and listens for a heartbeat.

All remains quiet for a second too long, the other Dragon Riders- both human and dragon alike- show a growing dread.

Toothless approaches in disbelief. The battle still rages behind them, but the Night Fury only has eyes for his family as Hiccup lies draped over his father. He’s sobbing, his shoulders shaking, and Toothless is afraid.

What happened while he wasn’t looking? He remembers nothing! One moment Stoick and Valka were singing and dancing and Hiccup was enjoying himself, the next moment there’s… this! All kinds of possibilities run rampant in Toothless’ head, but there’s one in particular that he fears the most. Just thinking about it shreds his heart to pieces.

Please, don’t let his worst fear come true. Don’t let that be it.

With a scared heart pounding inside his chest, thoughts a jumbled mess, Toothless warbles at the motionless figure of the mountainous man and nudges his hand with his nose.

Only for Hiccup to push his nose away harshly.

Immediate shock overcomes the dragon. It overcomes everyone, who weren’t expecting him to ever reject his best Bud. He and Hiccup could be rough with one another, but this didn’t feel rough, it felt angry. And looking up to his human’s face, anger is exactly what he sees.

No, anger doesn’t even come close. There’s rage in those eyes. Those familiar foresty pools that he knows as filled with such warmth are now cold and in pain. And all of those emotions are directed at him!

“No! Get away from him!” Hiccup shouts at his dragon with venom in his eyes.

Toothless recoils and then warbles up at him, confusion tears him apart. He’s never been afraid of Hiccup, he isn’t now either, but fear fills him either way.

“GO ON! GET OUT OF HERE! GET AWAY!” His soulmate shouts at him again, demanding that he disappear from his sight and Toothless doesn’t know what would’ve hurt more; being struck in his heart by a spear or this.

But he does as he’s told, shaken up enough by Hiccup’s out of character behavior that he doesn’t even try to fight it. Fishlegs tries to stop him from leaving, but Toothless avoids him easily.

Looking over his shoulder, Toothless finds Hiccup slumped over his father again and his heart breaks for him. He knows he loves his father from the bottom of his heart and losing him was always going to be devastating for him.

Somehow it’s happened and Toothless has a hard time grasping the fact that he has something to do with it.

Stoick is gone. Dead. And somehow it’s his fault.

He fought the Bewilderbeast’s control as hard as he could the last time it took him, but when it comes for him this time, Toothless welcomes it with open arms. Feeling numb and not in control is better than what his reality is now.

[vapor-vine]

Thinking it’s kinda funny that Floyd and Riddle mushed together makes a word in the dictionary. Florid.

Anyways Florid thoughts and HCs, mostly future stuff

In the forms of the ship I’ve seen, it’s always Floyd who falls for Riddle first. It makes sense, considering how he seeks Riddle out without Riddle doing the same to him. The scenario of Riddle taking romantic interest first would be interesting, just kinda hard (or you have to set up a lot) to pull off convincingly in my opinion.

It’s very fun to think of the development of the relationship as a sort of push and pull from both parties. They take a step forward, only to fall back because of a comment or action. Only until they come to more of an understanding of each other that they pull more than push.

I know from the times I see Riddle in casual wear he’s dressed fancily while Floyd is more lax (aloha shirt Floyd is ever present, especially for future AU). But c’mon, Floyd is interested in fashion, he’ll happily experiment and help Riddle do too. Let’s go try stuff out Goldfishie~

Someone (or both of them) DEFINITELY has to go through character development if they become a couple long-term. Otherwise they would tear each other apart and become a shitshow.

Floyd feels like the type to just wrap his arms around someone (shoulders, waist, whatever’s more comfortable) and poke over their shoulder to look at what they’re doing. Riddle likes the physical contact, but takes some issue with it if Floyd braces his entire weight on him.

For future AU, as much as I hate drawing that sort of style, Floyd strikes me as someone who has his hair slicked back. Riddle…hmm. I can see his side-bang being tucked back like his suitor outfit, but I prefer him growing his hair out long enough to make a braid or bun (think Artori/a from Fate or Violet from Violet E/vergarden). Either way, they brush and do each other’s hair on occasion.

Speaking of which, the future AU I share with my besties, Riddle is an advising lawyer (not sure which category, but if I remember correctly I was leaning toward criminal defense) while Floyd is mostly a househusband (super funny to think about) who occasionally takes jobs from Jade for the Leech business. Floyd calls it commission work (which is how they file it in taxes) and Riddle takes a deep sigh.

Like to think that they live on the coast in the Queendom in the future. Beachy.

I have NO IDEA if the horses in equestrian club belong to NRC, but fuck it we ball. Vorpal come here, let’s rent a stall in a nice barn for you that we can visit. Not surprised if Florid ends up with a lot of pets in their care, they would probably keep hedgehogs.

Riddle has a Ebenezer Scrouge nightgown he goes to bed in. That or pajama sets. Snork, mimimimi. Floyd dresses in whatever the fuck to sleep. Either way Floyd is either squeezing Riddle like a teddy bear or taking up the entire bed.

I like to think that it’s traditional wear for young girls in the Queendom is wear dresses similar to the iconic Alice dress. If Florid has daughters, Riddle is going to put them in those dresses (it’s nostalgic for him to see when combined with the trans HC).

Floyd would for sure do that thing where you toss kids up in the air to catch them. Riddle isn’t too pleased if he goes too high.

If they get a big bed with space underneath the frame, definitely feel like if they have kids those kids will squeeze under there themselves. Eels like dark, small spaces, just look at how they’ll pile up in a tube or pipe. Grabs a dad’s ankle, the little gremlins.

[noffy96]

MXES/Eclipse

So I was following along this comic 'Obsolete' by IceTigerKitten on twitter.

And when that ended we got this cute ship out of it. So i decided to little story, set right after the end the comic, a cute little what if so to speak.

It is so fun seing art for this ship on twitter, i just had to do this. so enjoy. But also check out the orinal comic first HERE!

A moment to rest

Rating: General Audiances

Word count: 1,960

Chapter 1/1 Complete

Summary:

“Still wish you could…they’d absolutely love you “

MXES turned his face to the side, and he was sure he saw a small flush appear.

The sight made him smile and it made him determined to overwhelm him with all the compliments he deserved in the future.

“I would love to talk to them properly someday”

or

Eclipse just needs a moment. To just be. He is been running from one place to the next ever since he got booted back up. And now it's his turn to get some much-needed comfort.

Note: Based on / set in. IceTigersKitten's comic Obsolete on twitter, is basically set right after. So might not make sense if you haven't read that comic

--link here to AO3--

or read below the read more line

Lightly kicking his legs eclipse looked down over the edge he had sat himself with a smile. The Glamrocks had managed to get Bonnie's body comfortably resting against the pillows and DJ’s arm. Everyone slowly finding a way to lie down and snuggle together for a nap.

It had been….a long day. A very long day indeed. He was very happy they had been found. For now, Vanessa and Gregory were bringing Cassie to safety. And they all stay another night in the Pizzaplex. They had some generators to charge them overnight and everyone was tired.

Chica looked up at him and waved at him to join. He smiled back gently at her. Signing back that he’d join in a bit. But Sun and Moon were still talking and didn't wanna interrupt them.

She nodded back and joined the others and the growing cuddle pile. Helping proto settle down, between one of DJ’s hands and Monty. Who was making sure that none of the micros that had gotten out of proto to stretch their little legs would get crushed.

He sighed. Moon and Sun had actually stopped talking a while ago. It had been needed. The reboot had fixed them, but they had barely time to talk about any of it. Except that of course they both had missed each other so very much.

He heard bits and pieces of the conversation, as them being in his head he couldn't entirely tune them out. But he ignored them as best he could to be polite. This was a moment for them that was surely needed

But what he heard had made him ache in his chest. The loneliness Sun had felt. The way the virus had corrupted Moon's thinking. Being able to tell something had been wrong. But not strong enough to fight it.

The fights it had caused between them. Well both knowing it was the virus, the insults and actions taken had still cut deep

Tears had been shed, kissed away along with long hugs and reassurances. He occasionally hugged themselves to let all of them know they were okay now. And he felt the sentiment returned

And now both of them were soundly asleep. Laying on either side of him. The pixels of their faces dug into his hips. Their hands clasped together across his lap. And the other holding onto his back. His own hands rested on where their shoulders would be.

It was a cute sight, and he hadn't felt this calm In all the hours he had been awake. And he just needed a moment to just be.

It felt like he was thinking of a million things and nothing all at once. The thoughts glided through his mind without grasping them. As he stared through a gap in the ceiling into the night sky. Playing the words of wonder the duo holding him had uttered at first seeing them. It was truly a beautiful sight.

After their talk, before they fell asleep, the celestial duo had asked him a bit more about MXES. The one that had warned them Cassie was in danger. And he had told them about his friend.

They both had gotten a teasing glint in their eyes. That made him suspicious. But it had also become clear no one else but him was able to see his friend.

And that thought made him upset. He wished that when everyone had rested. He could at least introduce them. But that seemed almost impossible now

He thought that MXES would need time to recharge as well. So he was surprised when he appeared in front of him once more.

“MXES..”

The giant bunny glitch stared at one of the generators seemingly giving it a small nod of approval before turning back to face him

“You look comfy”

He beamed up. Gently increasing his grip on the two in his grasp.

“I am. I don't think I have been hugged this long….ever really”

His friend gave a smile back. Looking at the pile of animatronics nesting below that were one by one slowly powering down.

“Everyone else all right?”

He nodded,

“As right as they can be”

“And you?”

He tilted his head to the side at the question.

“You seemed sad before I appeared “

He could feel the heat rising to his cheeks slowly. Looking down at the pixelated forms of Sun and Moon gently tracing over their arms. Both of them trying to come closer.

“I wanted and try and introduce you all properly…but…it seems they can’t…or anyone here…can hear you”

MXES nodded. An odd expression came over his face.

“Part of the design…you’re special”

He felt the heat rising.

“Still wish you could…they’d absolutely love you “

MXES turned his face to the side, and he was sure he saw a small flush appear.

The sight made him smile and it made him determined to overwhelm him with all the compliments he deserved in the future.

“I would love to talk to them properly someday”

He beamed up at his friend. Already feeling a bit calmer. He hesitated for a moment. Before letting go of his partners’s shoulders. And reaching toward the giant bunny.

Gently coaxing him back to face him by the cheek. Before leaning forward and pressing a short kiss against his nose.

He pulled back gently stroking the base of one ear.

“As thanks for earlier”

The little face boop from earlier was one of the sweetest interactions he had ever had. And he hoped this small kiss was bringing the same kind of happiness to the giant bunny.

MXES's hands were hovering beside them. Clearly startles by his actions. But those wide eyes gentled and the giant bunny glitch leaned closer. And pressed a soft kiss on his forehead. Just below the rim of his head.

“It's appreciated, but you should go rest little spark”

He let out a flustered giggle. He tried to suppress it so as not to wake the other two still in his lap. As he looked away

“I…I know”

One of MXES's hands came to his chin pulling it back up to face him

“What's….wrong?”

The flush on his face grew and he averted his eyes. Leaning back a little. He had a feeling his emotions had been clear as day, another reason why he hadn't gone down just yet.

“...I…it’s…”

He ducked his head further. It felt very silly, to worry about this now. After everything, he couldn't help it. The thought had entered his mind when the talk about resting started and it wasn't leaving him alone.

The giant hand moved to gently rub at one of his rays and it made the pleasant tingle in his chest increase.

“...what if I don't wake back up…”

It was barely more than a whisper. And he couldn't meet MXES eyes. Staring down at his two other halfs

It had been so long since his last activation. Their internal clock had broken long ago. But he was sure it was years, he could see Sun’s logs continue on for years since the last day he was active.

And what if he went to sleep and it be decades later again? He didn't wanna lose this. He had made promises, he wanted to keep Sun and Moon safe after everything.

They had the Mimic to find as well before it tried to hurt someone else! And the Glamrocks seemed nice. He would like to get to know them more. Would love to make more friends

But what if today was all he got? The reset had worked…but would it keep him around?

MXES had let him go and he curled further In himself. Then one of those warm hands pulled him back, his friend having moved behind him, into the other's larger chest. Being slowly filled with the unexpected comfort of being held. Sun and Moon doing it inside their head was one thing. But he was trying to think of a time he had actually ever been held like this and came up empty.

“They aren't gonna let you go that easily, they've got you. You have nothing to fear. And if you are gonna be there for me. I'll be there for you as well. It's okay to be scared…but don't be alone. They…everyone is here for you”

He nodded, raising a trembling hand over the hand holding him. Tipping his head back to find MXES gaze. He whispered softly.

“Thank you”

They sat there for several moments. Just breathing gently. With some gentle words being whispered to him every now and then. He whispered compliments back. Made sure to gently pay attention to the two in his lap as well. Every time he felt them twitch in their sleep

Suddenly he saw a large hand appear before him. He snapped out of his daze looking at DJ.

“You coming little comet? you should get tucked in as well. “

“Oh. Sorry DJ, yes. Just…give me a sec”

He glanced behind him apologetically. And MXES let him go with a gentle press of his nose against his cheek.

And he curled his arms around the pixelated forms of his partners lifting up with him. Both of them let out sweet little grunts and mrrps as they blinked awake.

“Sorry you two, just getting ready for bed myself. “

He hopped onto DJ’s hand and was lowered down. Chica was still up and sat up from where she was in Roxy's lap who was already out. Pulling him into the cuddle pile before he could protest, a blanket was thrown over him trapping him as was held against her and Roxy's side.

He glanced over to the others. Monty had moved to lie on Bonnie's chest, with one of the cleanbots that held Bonnie's consciousness trapped in his hold. Freddy was gently muttering things to his prototype. And complementing all the micros for helping him out. On their other side.

Moon had shifted his pixelated form to lie more across his chest now. While Sun had cuddled fully into his free side holding onto them both their hands finding each other again. While their other hand was gently tracing over his body trying to lull him into rest.

MXES was hovering off to the side again. And seeing him apart from everyone else made his chest feel cold. So he reached out a hand. The giant bunny grabbed it with no hesitation and he used it to pull him down landing close to Moon.

The bunny's eyes were wide, and before he could protest he mouthed at him.

“Please stay”

He got a short nod as MXES shifted to find a comfortable spot, so as not to phase through Moon, despite neither being able to see each other. DJ fully warped his arms around the group creating a barrier no one could pass.

He plucked in the cable handed to him by Chica and settled down. Eyes dropping slowly

“Go get some rest, sweet cheeks. You and the Bois certainly earned it after everything you’ve done for us”

He gave a light nod

“Thank you”

There was a soft nuzzle against his head. But he could hardly keep his eyes open. A soft melody started from his chest. Moon music box, it was missing a few notes. But the sound was comforting. And as he slowly started drifting off into rest mode.

He swore he could hear Sun say

“We've got you”

Followed by Moon.

“You've got nothing to fear”

A second later felt like MXES was stroking his rays again. Along with his staticy voice

“Told you, rest now”

It would be alright…they all would be