#MY ATTITUDE'S NOT IN THE TRANSCRIPT HE SAYS

[mikelogan]

My attitude’s not in the transcript.

[mollyrealized]

How Michael Met Neil

original direct link [MP3]

(Neil, if you see this, please feel free to grab the transcript and store on your site; I had no easy way of contacting you.)

DAVID TENNANT: Tell me about @neil-gaiman then, because he's in that category [previously: “such a profound effect on my life”] as well.

MICHAEL SHEEN: So this is what has brought us together.

DAVID: Yes.

MICHAEL: To the new love story for the 21st century.

DAVID: Exactly.

MICHAEL: So when I went to drama school, there was a guy called Gary Turner in my year. And within the first few weeks, we were doing something, having a drink or whatever. And he said to me, “Do you read comic books?”

And I said, “No.”  I mean, this is … what … '88?  '88, '89.  So it was … now I know that it was a period of time that was a big change, transformation going through comic books.  Rather than it being thought of as just superheroes and Batman and Superman, there was this whole new era of a generation of writers like Grant Morrison.

DAVID: The kids who'd grown up reading comic books were now making comic books

MICHAEL: Yeah, yeah, and starting to address different kinds of subjects through the comic book medium. So it wasn't about just superheroes, it was all kinds of stuff going on – really fascinating stuff. And I was totally unaware of this.

And so this guy Gary said to me, "Do you read them?" And I said, "No."  And he went, "Right, okay, here's The Watchman [sic] by Alan Moore. Here's Swamp Thing. Here's Hellblazer. And here's Sandman.”

And Sandman was Neil Gaiman's big series that put his name on the map. And I read all those, and, just – I was blown away by all of them, but particularly the Sandman stories, because he was drawing on mythology, which was something I was really interested in, and fairy tales, folklore, and philosophy, and Shakespeare, and all kinds of stuff were being mixed up in this story.  And I absolutely loved it.

So I became a big fan of Neil's, and started reading everything by him. And then fairly shortly after that, within six months to a year, Good Omens the book came out, which Neil wrote with Terry Pratchett. And so I got the book – because I was obviously a big fan of Neil's by this point – read it, loved it, then started reading Terry Pratchett’s stuff as well, because I didn't know his stuff before then – and then spent years and years and years just being a huge fan of both of them.

And then eventually when – I'd done films like the Underworld films and doing Twilight films. And I think it was one of the Twilight films, there was a lot of very snooty interviews that happened where people who considered themselves well above talking about things like Twilight were having to interview me … and, weirdly, coming at it from the attitude of 'clearly this is below you as well' … weirdly thinking I'm gonna go, 'Yeah, fucking Twilight.”

And I just used to go, "You know what? Some of the greatest writing of the last 50-100 years has happened in science fiction or fantasy."  Philip K Dick is one of my favorite writers of all time. In fact, the production of Hamlet I did was mainly influenced by Philip K Dick.  Ursula K. Le Guin and Asimov, and all these amazing people. And I talked about Neil as well. And so I went off on a bit of a rant in this interview.

Anyway, the interview came out about six months later, maybe.  Knock on the door, open the door, delivery of a big box. That’s interesting. Open the box, there's a card at the top of the box. I open the card.

It says, From one fan to another, Neil Gaiman.  And inside the box are first editions of Neil's stuff, and all kinds of interesting things by Neil. And he just sent this stuff.

DAVID: You'd never met him?

MICHAEL: Never met him. He'd read the interview, or someone had let him know about this interview where I'd sung his praises and stood up for him and the people who work within that sort of genre as being like …

And he just got in touch. We met up for the first time when he came to – I was in Los Angeles at the time, and he came to LA.  And he said, "I'll take you for a meal."

I said, “All right.”

He said, "Do you want to go somewhere posh, or somewhere interesting?”

I said, "Let's go somewhere interesting."

He said, "Right, I'm going to take you to this restaurant called The Hump." And it's at Santa Monica Airport. And it's a sushi restaurant.

I was like, “Right, okay.” So I had a Mini at the time. And we get in my Mini and we drive off to Santa Monica Airport. And this restaurant was right on the tarmac, like, you could sit in the restaurant (there's nobody else there when we got there, we got there quite early) and you're watching the planes landing on Santa Monica Airport. It's extraordinary. 

And the chef comes out and Neil says, "Just bring us whatever you want. Chef's choice."

So, I'd never really eaten sushi before. So we sit there; we had this incredible meal where they keep bringing these dishes out and they say, “This is [blah, blah, blah]. Just use a little bit of soy sauce or whatever.”  You know, “This is eel.  This is [blah].”

And then there was this one dish where they brought out and they didn't say what it was. It was like “mystery dish”, we had it ... delicious. Anyway, a few more people started coming into the restaurant as time went on.

And we're sort of getting near the end, and I said, "Neil, I can't eat anymore. I'm gonna have to stop now. This is great, but I can't eat–"

"Right, okay. We'll ask for the bill in a minute."

And then the door opens and some very official people come in. And it was the Feds. And the Feds came in, and we knew they were because they had jackets on that said they were part of the Federal Bureau of Whatever. And about six of them come in. Two of them go … one goes behind the counter, two go into the kitchen, one goes to the back. They've all got like guns on and stuff.

And me and Neil are like, "What on Earth is going on?"

And then eventually one guy goes, "Ladies and gentlemen, if you haven't ordered already, please leave. If you're still eating your meal, please finish up, pay your bill, leave."*

[* - delivered in a perfect American ‘serious law agent’ accent/impression]

And we were like, "Oh my God, are we poisoned? Is there some terrible thing that's happened?"  

We'd finished, so we pay our bill.  And then all the kitchen staff are brought out. And the head chef is there. The guy who's been bringing us this food. And he's in tears. And he says to Neil, "I'm so sorry." He apologizes to Neil.  And we leave. We have no idea what happened.

DAVID: But you're assuming it's the mystery dish.

MICHAEL: Well, we're assuming that we can't be going to – we can't be –  it can't be poisonous. You know what I mean? It can't be that there's terrible, terrible things.

So the next day was the Oscars, which is why Neil was in town. Because Coraline had been nominated for an Oscar. Best documentary that year was won by The Cove, which was by a team of people who had come across dolphins being killed, I think.

Turns out, what was happening at this restaurant was that they were having illegal endangered species flown in to the airport, and then being brought around the back of the restaurant into the kitchen.

We had eaten whale – endangered species whale. That was the mystery dish that they didn't say what it was.

And the team behind The Cove were behind this sting, and they took them down that night whilst we were there.

DAVID: That’s extraordinary.

MICHAEL: And we didn't find this out for months.  So for months, me and Neil were like, "Have you worked anything out yet? Have you heard anything?"

"No, I haven't heard anything."

And then we heard that it was something to do with The Cove, and then we eventually found out that that restaurant, they were all arrested. The restaurant was shut down. And it was because of that. And we'd eaten whale that night.

DAVID: And that was your first meeting with Neil Gaiman.

MICHAEL: That was my first meeting. And also in the drive home that night from that restaurant, he said, and we were in my Mini, he said, "Have you found the secret compartment?"

I said, "What are you talking about?" It's such a Neil Gaiman thing to say.

DAVID: Isn't it?

MICHAEL: The secret compartment? Yeah. Each Mini has got a secret compartment. I said, "I had no idea." It's secret. And he pressed a little button and a thing opened up. And it was a secret compartment in my own car that Neil Gaiman showed me.

DAVID: Was there anything inside it?

MICHAEL: Yeah, there was a little man. And he jumped out and went, "Hello!" No, there was nothing in there. There was afterwards because I started putting...

DAVID: Sure. That's a very Neil Gaiman story. All of that is such a Neil Gaiman story.

MICHAEL: That's how it began. Yeah.

DAVID: And then he came to offer you the part in Good Omens.

MICHAEL: Yeah. Well, we became friends and we would whenever he was in town, we would meet up and yeah, and then eventually he started, he said, "You know, I'm working on an adaptation of Good Omens." And I can remember at one point Terry Gilliam was going to maybe make a film of it. And I remember being there with Neil and Terry when they were talking about it. And...

DAVID: Were you involved at that point?

MICHAEL: No, no, I wasn't involved. I just happened to have met up with Neil that day.

DAVID: Right.

MICHAEL: And then Terry Gilliam came along and they were chatting, that was the day they were talking about that or whatever.

And then eventually he sent me one of the scripts for an early draft of like the first episode of Good Omens. And he said – and we started talking about me being involved in it, doing it – he said, “Would you be interested?” I was like, "Yeah, of course."  I went, "Oh my God." And he said, "Well, I'll send you the scripts when they come," and I would read them, and we'd talk about them a little bit. And so I was involved.

But it was always at that point with the idea, because he'd always said about playing Crowley in it. And so, as time went on, as I was reading the scripts, I was thinking, "I don't think I can play Crowley. I don't think I'm going to be able to do it." And I started to get a bit nervous because I thought, “I don't want to tell Neil that I don't think I can do this.”  But I just felt like I don't think I can play Crowley.

DAVID: Of course you can [play Crowley?].

MICHAEL: Well, I just on a sort of, on a gut level, sometimes you have it on a gut level.

DAVID: Sure, sure.

MICHAEL: I can do this.

DAVID: Yeah.

MICHAEL: Or I can't do this. And I just thought, “You know what, this is not the part for me. The other part is better for me, I think. I think I can do that, I don't think I could do that.”

But I was scared to tell Neil because I thought, "Well, he wants me to play Crowley" – and then it turned out he had been feeling the same way as well.  And he hadn't wanted to mention it to me, but he was like, "I think Michael should really play Aziraphale."

And neither of us would bring it up.  And then eventually we did. And it was one of those things where you go, "Oh, thank God you said that. I feel exactly the same way." And then I think within a fairly short space of time, he said, “I think we've got … David Tennant … for Crowley.” And we both got very excited about that.

And then all these extraordinary people started to join in. And then, and then off we went.

DAVID: That's the other thing about Neil, he collects people, doesn't he? So he'll just go, “Oh, yeah, I've phoned up Frances McDormand, she's up for it.” Yeah. You're, what?

MICHAEL: “I emailed Jon Hamm.”

DAVID: Yeah.

MICHAEL: And yeah, and you realize how beloved he is and how beloved his work is. And I think we would both recognise that Good Omens is one of the most beloved of all of Neil's stuff.

DAVID: Yes.

MICHAEL: And had never been turned into anything.

DAVID: Yeah.

MICHAEL: And so the kind of responsibility of that, I mean, for me, for someone who has been a fan of him and a fan of the book for so long, I can empathize with all the fans out there who are like, “Oh, they better not fuck this up.”

DAVID: Yes.

MICHAEL: “And this had better be good.” And I have that part of me. But then, of course, the other part of me is like, “But I'm the one who might be fucking it up.”

DAVID: Yeah.

MICHAEL: So I feel that responsibility as well.

DAVID: But we have Neil on site.

MICHAEL: Yes. Well, Neil being the showrunner …

DAVID: Yeah. I think it takes the curse off.

MICHAEL: … I think it made a massive difference, didn't it? Yeah. You feel like you're in safe hands.

DAVID: Well, we think. Not that the world has seen it yet.

MICHAEL (grimly): No, I know.

DAVID: But it was a -- it's been a -- it's been a joy to work with you on it. I can't wait for the world to see it.

MICHAEL: Oh my God.  Oh, well, I mean, it's the only, I've done a few things where there are two people, it's a bit of a double act, like Frost-Nixon and The Queen, I suppose, in some ways. But, and I've done it, Amadeus or whatever.

This is the only thing I've done where I really don't think of it as “my character” or “my performance as that character”.  I think of it totally as us.

DAVID: Yeah.

MICHAEL: The two of us.

DAVID: Yes.

MICHAEL: Like they, what I do is defined by what you do.

DAVID: Yeah.

MICHAEL: And that was such a joy to have that experience. And it made it so much easier in a way as well, I found, because you don't feel like you're on your own in it. Like it's totally us together doing this and the two characters totally complement each other. And the experience of doing it was just a real joy.

DAVID: Yeah.  Well, I hope the world is as excited to see it as we are to talk about it, frankly.

MICHAEL: You know, there's, having talked about T.S. Eliot earlier, there's another bit from The Wasteland where there's a line which goes, These fragments I have shored against my ruin.

And this is how I think about life now. There is so much in life, no matter what your circumstances, no matter what, where you've got, what you've done, how much money you got, all that. Life's hard.  I mean, you can, it can take you down at any point.

You have to find this stuff. You have to like find things that will, these fragments that you hold to yourself, they become like a liferaft, and especially as time goes on, I think, as I've got older, I've realized it is a thin line between surviving this life and going under.

And the things that keep you afloat are these fragments, these things that are meaningful to you and what's meaningful to you will be not-meaningful to someone else, you know. But whatever it is that matters to you, it doesn't matter what it was you were into when you were a teenager, a kid, it doesn't matter what it is. Go and find them, and find some way to hold them close to you. 

Make it, go and get it. Because those are the things that keep you afloat. They really are. Like doing that with him or whatever it is, these are the fragments that have shored against my ruin. Absolutely.

DAVID: That's lovely. Michael, thank you so much.

MICHAEL: Thank you.

DAVID: For talking today and for being here.

MICHAEL: Oh, it's a pleasure. Thank you.

[amarriageoftrueminds]

View on Twitter

Since it came up recently, link to that therapist on twitter 👆 who was discussing Bucky's terribile therapist in TFATWS and how they should’ve been. 

Transcript:

"As a therapist myself I've had a lot of feelings about Bucky's therapist on TFatWS, and have decided I need to rant a little to let it all out. I've worked w/active duty, trauma survivors, and court ordered clients, so here's some therapeutic conjecture on Bucky's therapy:

Aesthetically her office and presentation don't fit for someone who has been through the trauma that he’s been through. A client like this would need something non-threatening and safe- the whole vibe is overly formal and official in an office building, not at all therapeutic.

6 months working together she calls him Mr. Barnes and then James-he has identity issues and is struggling with who he is, so I think that one of the 1st things they would have done is figure out what he is comfortable being called, by whom and what that means for him.

He is still full out lying to her about pretty much everything including PTSD sx—I’m not saying clients never lie if they have good therapists, but if after 6 months he still doesn’t feel like he can be truthful at all then they haven’t built any trust/ solid therapeutic rapport

The pen and notebook thing-that’s clearly a trigger for him, there’s no reason to antagonize him and take notes in session like a punishment, it’s a power play on her part and it only emphasizes his lack of control in being forced into therapy (she should know his hx w/notebooks)

The whole little arm motion she made when she said “they need to make sure you don’t…” – that made so much light of what has happened to him, he probably feels like his arm is only good as a weapon and things like that will not help him accept it as part of his body

The rules, UGH the rules—from how they were talking about them clearly not something he actively created for himself, more like directives that he’s been ordered to adhere to—something fed to him and reinforced, feels like a way to sign off on liability only

THE AMENDS—this is probably my biggest issue. Amends are for people who need to take accountability for their actions and the repercussions of those choices. He had NO choice. He was a victim of horrific crimes against him, and framing it in a way that he needs to make up for

the crimes that others used him for is abhorrent. The lack of trauma informed care as astounding in the way it is being framed that he has to atone for sins that weren’t his. Its clearly reinforcing the idea in his head in ep 2 when he says “HYDRA were my people".

NO, HYDRA were your captors. They were not your people. That type of thinking needs to get deconstructed and challenged. He can dedicate himself to bringing good into the world and righting wrongs that happened WITHOUT taking on the responsibility of those actions.

Her whole attitude and demeanor were condescending and demeaning. I know some people have said “I love how she calls him out on his bullshit!” That’s not what I see happening. I call my clients out on their shit all the time—this was not that.

And I can only do that with clients ONCE we’ve built the type of relationship where it’s going to be therapeutic for them to hear it, and it’s done intentionally and with purpose. She just came off shaming and mean because they don’t seem to have any form of therapeutic rapport.

She said “you have no history, no family”- there is no therapeutic reason for that, and she’s wrong. He most likely has family alive (he used current tense when talking about his sister) and he was close to Shuri and TChalla, his history is vital to understanding him

When she said “Look, I know that you have been through a lot, but you’ve got your mind back. You are being pardoned. These are good things. You’re free.”—Yeah this feels really dismissive and like toxic positivity. “I know you’ve been through a lot BUT BE HAPPY!!??”

He certainly doesn’t seem to feel like he’s free (especially having therapy mandated), and you can’t just tell someone they’re free. I felt like she was pretty much just like, “shake it off, look to the future!” which feels really shitty when you’ve experienced excessive trauma.

HELLO breach of confidentiality, just introducing herself to Sam as his therapist and confirming it to Walker and the whole police station, it doesn’t matter if they know he’s in therapy you do not break someone’s privacy like that, he still deserves some control over his tx.

Ordering Sam into a session, NO, he’s not your client and you don’t know him well enough to know if that’s appropriate or if it would be harmful to either, and you haven’t asked your client for his consent to have another person in his session

Forcing a trauma victim who was stripped of his bodily autonomy for 70 years into a physically intimate exercise with a coworker that he’s barely interacted with in the last several months? NOPE, just reinforcing to Bucky she has control over him the way his handlers used to

To me, I think she is more focused on signing off on his psychological eval that he isn't a liability rather than any actual healing or attention to his trauma. This unfortunately isn’t unusual in the military where “mental health treatment” is focused on being mission ready.

They are making sure he’s ready to be an “asset” w/ mandated therapy, which he shouldn’t even be forced to do as part of his pardon because he shouldn’t have needed a pardon at all because he was a victim of horrific war crimes, brainwashing, and dehumanization for 70 years.

I’m just saying, if that was me he would be on my big squishy couch, bright open windows, bowl of Hershey kisses, random fidget toys, and two therapy dogs laying all over him while we work through that trauma and he builds back his identity and finds the calm he wants so badly.

And yes he would probably need someone who would see through his BS, call him out when he needs it, not be overly "touchy feely", but only if he feels safe and there is trust, where he gets to work on what HE wants, not what others think he needs.

Anyway thanks for coming to my TEDTalk, I❤️my work and I think being a therapist on retainer for the Avengers would've been a fucking trip, they all needed a team of mental health professionals at their disposal 24/7 and things would've been so much better🤣

ps. They can be a good therapist and just not be a fit for the client, that happens regularly. We know when to make it part of the conversation and when to refer out. Nothing good is going to come out of a contemptuous therapeutic relationship, mandated or not.

pps. That whole situation and the scene with Zemo was so rough. I can't imagine how much it brought back the violation, humiliation, anger, and helplessness of when he was the WS. I'm just imagining him having a therapist he trusts and being able to process that afterwards 😭😭😭"

[carlyraejepsans]

UTY!Flowey, "lore" and how to criticize a fan prequel without being an insufferable pedantic, a guide by Biscia.

(for my muskless fellows, here's a transcript of my thread on Undertale Yellow that I posted on Twitter. enjoy!)

There's this really frustrating attitude in fan spaces i like to call "lorepilling" where people are substantially more concerned with encyclopedic knowledge of details & minutiae (so called "lore") in place of full-text thematic/narrative analysis as if the two are mutually interchangeable.

It's especially common in large franchises and story heavy videogames, and it's like... Are You Treating This Piece Of Art Like A Trivia Battle Or Are You Treating It Like A Story

This is coming from a person who is also deeply autistic about UTDR trivia btw, I'm just saying that when it comes to transformative *stories*, depending on the impact it has on character, themes, and narrative structure... lore is expendable.

Ultimately this is why most of the UTY criticism i see (on twitter specifically) falls flat. What does it matter if "lore" means Flowey couldn't chronologically be there when the justice human fell, as long as the game narratively justified his presence in the story in a compelling way?

The real criticism, in the end, is that it didn't.

He's a plot central, main cast character from the canon returning in a cast of mostly OCs and what does he have to show for it? An admittedly sick boss battle in 1/3 endings, sure but... not much else. He has no significant "presence" in the story, no tie, interaction, or even just... an opinion on the rest of the cast. Which is a huge miss when Flowey's meta role is to be Thee completionist player mirror. He's the OG lorepilled UT fan! He's an opinionated little shit!

This isn't to say that UTY *didn't* engage w/ his metanarrative. When me and @a-town-called-hometown first started playing the game (we were both skeptical of Flowey's inclusion), he immediately said "It would be really cool if they made it so this has been going on for a while and Clover has no idea". Which is precisely what the game did in the neutral ending, and what I will openly say was the most well written & well executed part of this game's story...

...a part we almost didn't see, because the pacifist ending disappointed us so much we lost all will to replay.

To put it in the words of my friend Mel @clowwwnbytes, there's a deafening hollowness to UTY Flowey's motivations & core principles where his guilt towards Chara—and resulting black and white thinking—should be. You're telling me Mr Kill-or-be-killed, "sacrificing yourself to do the right thing is stupid", would stand there after 1000s of failed attempts to make Clover survive, look on as they make the same mistake Asriel he did, and fondly call them friend? Cue the guitar, roll the credits?

He would lose it. Oh my god he would lose his goddamn mind, he would throw the nastiest temper tantrum in the world. Are you serious? How dare you. How DARE you. All this effort, all my patience, and you just let yourself DIE for a few worthless idiots? I should've let you ROT!

*clears throat* sorry got a bit too into character. as i was saying.

I can understand a UT prequel wanting to distance itself from the canon Chara storyline in order to form its own identity, but then turning around and choosing Insane About Chara The Character™ for a sidekick is... far from optimal. In the end, Flowey comes across as underutilized and inconsistent, with a whole lot of wasted potential.

This is an issue I have with UTY's character writing (original AND returning) and story structure as a whole. Lots of inconsistent character arcs, tonal dissonance, overuse of situational sadness... it's an amateurish work, after all, and you can feel it. There's no shame in that.

(Though, there ARE some issues that i take more seriously with its writing, especially when it comes to its two main female characters—Ceroba's lack of narrative agency and depth borders on misogynistic writing imo. But that's a topic for another day)

Over all, UTY was an incredible piece of collaborative transformative work, with gorgeous art and a genuinely incredible OST, which... would have benefited from more experienced writers. But hey, you can only ever learn by trying!

For all it could've been a better story, it certainly did not fail to entertain: both when my friend was playing it, and after in our many discussions of its writing, its faults and how it could've been improved (royal scientist!ceroba character fix you will always be famous. to ME!)

I'm sure this project served as an incredible source of experience for the developers: as individual creators AND as a team. I look forward to their future projects!

but also if i have to see another person say UTY is better than Undertale i might turn into The Jonker.

end of the essay! really couldn't stand any of the pedantic ""criticism"" I'd seen of this fangame so far, so i had to say my piece as someone more versed in analysis. happy to elaborate on anything in the replies or in my inbox!

[heizlut]

Zandik’s Whore

cw: rough sex, corruption kink(?)

tags: mean tutor!zandik, bimbo f!reader, corruption kink(?), one use of y/n (sorry 🥺), petnames: cockslut, slut, pet

nsfw under the cut

check out my masterlist here!

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Zandik sat quietly in the library completely engrossed in a book. He was trying to take his mind off the fact that he was being forced to tutor a ditzy girl like you. If he could’ve declined, he would’ve but he didn’t have a choice as he was in the top of his class and needed extra hours to add to his transcripts. You were on the verge of failing the one class you absolutely needed to pass in order to graduate. Zandik didn’t know what drove him more insane, your lack of brains or the skimpy little outfits you wore as you pranced around campus all bubbly and smiling brightly.

Soon enough, he hears the clicking of heels sound through the quiet library. He looks up to see you walking in wearing a pretty little sundress, your hair bouncing as you walked towards him with a bright smile on your face. He feels his pants tightening as he observes you but tries to push away those thoughts, offering you a cold glare.

Oblivious to his outward distaste for you, you approach him happily, “Hello! I was told you’re the one who’s going to be tutoring me. Zandik, right?” He fights the urge to roll his eyes at your cheerful attitude and closes his book, “Yes, that’s me.. unfortunately.. You must be y/n.” You nod and plop yourself down in the chair right next to him. As you do so, the subtle smell of your delicious perfume surrounds him and your bare leg brushes against his, making his cock begin to ache. “Thanks for agreeing to tutor me. All this information on ruin mechanics is really going over my head”, you pout, twirling your hair around your finger.

Seeing you pout like that only draws his attention to your plush, glossy lips. Zandik licks his own lips as he stares for a moment, then quickly clears his throat and returns to his usual cold demeanor, “It’s not like I really had a choice in the matter.. Anyways, this subject requires one to think critically. I can guide you through understanding the fundamentals, but it is ultimately up to you to retain the information.” You smile at him but then a dumb look crosses your features, “But I’m not good at retaining difficult information..”

Zandik blinks, “Well then I don’t exactly see how you’re going to pass if you can’t even retain the information I give you.” Your eyes begin to well up with tears and your bottom lip quivers slightly, “B-but if I don’t pass this subject t-then I won’t g-graduate.” Zandik lets out a disgruntled sigh, an idea forming in his head as he smirks internally, “Then I suppose I could provide you with some additional tutoring outside of our scheduled meeting times.” You give him a hopeful smile, placing your hand on his thigh, “You’d do that for me?” The feeling of your hand on his thigh almost makes him groan but he lets it get caught in his throat, “Of course, but this is only under the condition that you.. return the favor” As he says this, he reaches out and wipes the tears off your cheeks, resisting the urge to lick the saltiness of your tears off his thumb. Seeing you all pathetic in front of him, looking at him like he had hung the stars in the sky himself made him want to ruin you and that’s exactly what he’ll do.

A couple days later you find yourself in his dorm room, settled on his lap with his cock in your tight dripping pussy. Zandik has you cockwarming him, not bothering to thrust up into you unless you get the answer correct. His fingers toying with your cute little clit as he quizzes you on the composition of ruin mechanics. “And where does ruin technology come from?” Zandik asks as he continues to rub circles on your aching clit. “F-fontaine..?” You moan out. He slaps your clit harshly and growls lowly in your ear, “Wrong answer. Try again.” You cry out at the pleasurable sting, trying to move on his cock, “Mmph.. Please… Please fuck me.” His hand makes contact with your poor clit again, causing you to whimper, “Only good girls get fucked by my cock. Now try. Again. Where does ruin technology come from?” You bite your lip, desperate for some friction, and answer dumbly, “I-Inazuma?”

Zandik rolls his eyes and quickly pushes you onto your hands and knees. He pushes down on your back, causing you to arch so perfectly for him and he begins thrusting roughly into you, “What a brainless little slut. All you’re good for is taking my cock.” Your lewd moans fill the room as he pounds his thick cock in your soaked little cunt. Your eyes crossing and your tongue lolling out of your pretty little mouth. If only you knew just how incredibly dumb you looked right now. Zandik slaps your ass making you let out a pathetic whimper and he presses his chest to your back. His hot breath tickles your neck, “Once I graduate, I’m gonna make you into my pretty little assistant. My brainless little pet. All you’ll ever need to do is please me.”

You clench around his cock at his words, “Wanna be good f’you. Wanna be your good girl. Make you feel s’good…” Your words slurring together as all you can focus on is the way his thick cock hits all the right places. Zandik chuckles darkly as he bites down on your neck, releasing thick ropes of hot cum into your awaiting cunt, not caring that you haven’t cum just yet, “What a perfect cockslut you are already. All you’ll ever need is my cock, nothing else.” You whine as he pulls out of you and you feel his cum drip from your aching pussy, “Wanna cum, Zandik..” He grabs you by your hair, forcefully pulling you upright and making you look at him. You look so dazed and drunk from his cock, mouth hanging open slightly. Zandik clicks his tongue, “Now, now. Don’t be ungrateful. You’ll take what I give you.” He pinches your tongue between his fingers, pulling it to stick out slightly and he spits into your mouth then taps your cheek, “Now swallow.” You obediently swallow and he pats your head, “Good girl.”

He had you right where he wanted you, desperate and aching for his cock, his touch, his degrading words and praises. Such an obedient little thing. Why should he waste his time trying to fill your mind with information you couldn’t even comprehend when you could just be his little cockslut instead?

꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷

a/n: hehe i like writing for dottore/zandik. if he becomes a playable character i’ll cum on the spot

[tinycoffeeroom]

podcast crush | arthur hill

face claim: steph bohrer ♡

request: here !

requested: Hey just wondering if you could maybe write something like either Arthur’s girlfriend or crush goes on the podcast and it’s just like cute fluff or Arthur’s girlfriend supporting him at Leeds festival and like calming him down hahah no worries if not x

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

👤 max_balegde liked by max_baledge, arthurnfhill and 79,038 others

y/nstagram on a date, do you think he's nervous?

andrew_spanndy rue, when was this ↳ y/nstagram andrew, baby, you weren't supposed to find out like this... ↳ max_balegde can you blame me? look at her xx ↳ andrew_spanndy i'm just mad i wasn't invited 😞 ↳ y/nstagram next time it's just you and me babygirl 💗 ♥️ andrew_spanndy

arthurnfhill i would do the same thing ↳ y/nstagram awww you flatter me xx ↳ fan my parents who don't know they're my parents and aren't together but should be

fan y/n is so gorgeous please i am on my KNEES

fan not arthur flirting in her comments AGAIN can y'all just kiss or smth

arthurtv what did you say to make him do that? 😭 ↳ y/nstagram wdym i just looked hot and it happened ↳ arthurtv humble as always y/n ↳ y/nstagram ok mr "posts topless selfies to distract from his lack of rizz" ↳ fan gagged a lil ↳ arthurtv :((((((( ↳ y/nstagram i'm sorry pooks, you know ily xx

georgeclarkeey so... getting you on the pod when? ↳ y/nstagram you couldn't afford my fee x ↳ max_balegde your fees a redbull and a blue razz vape ↳ y/nstagram unprovoked??? ↳ max_balegde THE LAST PICTURE SAYS OTHERWISE???

mummysboypod we could afford your fee y/n (heart) ↳ y/nstagram i'd do it for free for lisa xx ↳ lisahull_hill y/n my lovely girl ❤️ ↳ y/nstagram absolutely adore you ❤️ ↳ arthurnfhill can't believe my mum loves y/n more than me ↳ fan 🤨 ↳ arthurnfhill more than she loves me* oops ↳ fan ur not slick arthur.

👤 arthurnfhill liked by mummysboypod, arthurnfhill and 80,829 others

y/nstagram charitably graced his podcast and he thanks me by mocking my poses 🙄

fan EP OUT WHEN??? ↳ y/nstagram mummysboypod? ↳ mummysboypod next week! :)

fan WHERE IS LISA???? ↳ y/nstagram the lisa pics are for me and me only ↳ lisahull_hill silly girl, we all know the real reason why i'm not on here! ↳ fan LISA SPILL PLEASE ↳ lisahull_hill you'll have to wait for next weeks podcast! :P

arthurnfhill maybe i just thought it was a snazzy pose ↳ y/nstagram hmm ofc you did 🙄 ↳ arthurnfhill full of attitude today aren't you 🤨 ↳ y/nstagram who me? 😇

fan MUMMYS BOY POD WITH Y/N I DREAMED OF DAYS LIKE THIS

fan i need y/n biblically ♥️ arthurnfhill ↳ fan like i said before ur not slick arthurnfhill

bachandarthur us next? 🥺 ↳ y/nstagram anything for my pookies 🫶 ↳ arthurtv don't bother

MUMMYS BOY PODCAST WITH Y/N L/N TRANSCRIPT EXCERPT

LISA: So, my sweet Y/N, how have you been? Y/N: I've been good! My youtube and tiktok have been taking off so it's been a bit hectic! LISA: Oh yes, I forgot you did the tikkytokky thing like Arthur. [ARTHUR AND Y/N LAUGH AT LISA SOFTLY] Y/N: Yes, I do the tikkytokky thing. It took a while to find my niche but I think I've finally found my place on there. LISA: I asked Arthur to help me set up an account so I could follow you. I love seeing your, oh, what are they called, Arthur? ARTHUR: Get ready with me's? LISA: Yes, that. You're always so happy, it makes me want to just... [LISA REACHES ACROSS TO PINCH Y/N'S CHEEK] ARTHUR: Mum, please unhand our guest. LISA: [LAUGHS] Y/N doesn't mind, do you sweetie? Y/N: Of course not! If it was Arthur on the other hand... ARTHUR: Ah yes, it's bully Arthur hour again. [LISA AND Y/N LAUGH] Y/N: What else are we supposed to do?

--

LISA: Oh, sweetie, before I forget, I still have the book you leant me last week! Y/N: The Song of Achilles? How did you find it? ARTHUR: I got a phone call of her crying her eyes out, you wicked woman. I thought something bad had happened! Y/N: Something bad did happen! They kept Achilles and Patroclus apart for so long... LISA: Oh, don't! You'll set me off again! I'm too scared to ask you for another recommendation! Y/N: [LAUGHS] I promise the next one won't be so sad! I just finished Romancing Mr Bridgerton which I think you'll really like! You've read the first Bridgerton book, haven't you? LISA: Oh yes, I loved it! Which sibling is the one you just finished? Y/N: It's Colin and Penelope! LISA: Their season is coming out soon, isn't it? Are you still coming round to watch it? Y/N: Where else would I be?! I've already planned the drinks and snacks for our Bridgerton marathon! ARTHUR: Can we not recommend regency porn to my mother in front of me? Y/N: And how do you know it's regency porn, Mr Hill? You told me you hadn't watched it. LISA: He wanted to know more about it since he knows you love it so much. ARTHUR: Mum! [LISA AND Y/N LAUGH AS ARTHUR LOOKS SCANDALISED] LISA: Oh, sorry, was I not supposed to say that? Y/N: How sweet of you Arthur, maybe you should come watch the new season with me and Lisa? ARTHUR: I refuse to watch the carriage scene in the company of my mother. [Y/N SQUEALS WHILST LISA BATS HER ARM] Y/N: So you've read the books? [SILENCE] ARTHUR: Ok, maybe I did...

--

LISA: You know, Y/N, you're such a lovely girl. Beautiful face, amazing personality and limitless prospects, how are you still single? Surely the guys must be beating down your door. Y/N: Thank you for that stellar review Lisa [LAUGHS]. Honestly, I'm quite happy with what I have at the moment! My careers taking off, I'm doing things I could only dream of and visiting places that are all over my pinterest boards. i'm not exactly looking for a relationship, but if one came along I wouldn't be opposed to seeing where things go! ARTHUR: Mum - LISA: [SHUSHES ARTHUR] so if you were looking for someone, what do you look for? Y/N: Why? Do you have someone in mind for me? [LAUGHS] [LISA SHRUGS] Y/N: Well I guess, if I had to choose, I'd love someone family oriented. I love my family more than anything on this earth so it would be nice to find someone who has the same ideals as me. Someone kind, of course, warm and funny. Someone with hobbies and passions we share but also separate ones so we can have our independence. The appearance really doesn't matter to me, I'm more someone who leans into personality. But, I mean, if they were smoking hot, it wouldn't hurt! [LAUGHS] LISA: And your hobbies are...? Y/N: Why do I feel like I'm on take me out or something? [LAUGHS] I like music and craft... Hiking is fun sometimes! I have to include reading as well!. [LAUGHS] I also like visiting museums and art galleries. And, of course, makeup! LISA: Arthur likes art galleries too, he took me to the Tate Modern the other week to show me the new exhibit! Y/N: [SHOCKED EXPRESSION] without me? Arthur, how could you? ARTHUR: Oh, so now I can speak? Also, you said you were busy! LISA: You also like hiking, don't you Arthur? I remember all the selfies you sent me when you were in LA. ARTHUR: I do... where is this going, Mum? Y/N: Yeah, where is this going Lisa? [LAUGHS] LISA: [SHRUGS] Nowhere, was just making some observations.

--

liked by lisahull_hill, arthurnfhill and 89,028 others

y/nstagram bridgerton s3 pt 1 watch party with MOTHER ❤️ (lisa makes the best snack tables, i'm moving in immediately)

lisahull_hill there's always a bedroom here for you sweet y/nnie ❤️ ↳ y/nstagram lisa i'll cry right now, i love you 🥹

arthurnfhill that was the most awkward 4 episodes of my life ↳ y/nstagram i am so sorry (not) for laughing at your expression in ep 4 ↳ fan Y/N HOW DID HE REACT TO THE CARRIAGE SCENE ↳ y/nstagram he got up and walked out the room, we had to stop the show we were Howling ↳ arthurnfhill i will never forgive you for this ↳ lisahull_hill it's just a bit of sex arthur, grow up 😆

fan lisa loves her daughter (in law) ♥️ lisahull_hill, y/nstagram ↳ fan ur delusional (i believe you) ↳ fan real! ↳ fan i love her daughter (in law) too

fan y/n i NEED to know where that corset is from!!!! ↳ y/nstagram i got it from amazon, one sec i'll dm you the link 💓 ↳ fan everyone's favourite girl's girl

👤 lisahull_hill liked by y/nstagram, lisahull_hill and 139,028 others

arthurnfhill absolutely no reason why i'm uploading this specific set of pics :)

arthurtv bro is smoking hot

georgeclarkeey absolutely fuckin smoking babes

chrismd phwoar did it just get hot in here or is it me

italianbach who's this hottie over here? one could say he is smokin'

fan the gang hyping arthur up im SCREAMING

fan not him shooting his shot over ig... just message her my guy

fan museums ✅ family oriented ✅ music ✅ reading ✅ y/n please put him out of his misery

fan he wants y/n so bad but jokes on him so do we

fan y/nstagram please come get your man... ↳ fan y/nstagram ↳ fan y/nstagram ↳ fan y/nstagram ↳ fan y/nstagram ↳ fan y/nstagram please it's painful at this point ↳ fan y/nstagram

y/nstagram ??? wait you like me??? ↳ fan come the fuck on y/n he's fancied you for MONTHS ↳ y/nstagram ???!!!!!! i did not know????? ↳ arthurnfhill my mum has literally been trying to get us together for ages ↳ fan put him out of his misery PLEASE ↳ y/nstagram lisahull_hill ???!!!! elaborate lisa??? ↳ lisahull_hill oh he likes you a lot, i do too, that instagram user wasn't wrong when they said i love my daughter (in law)

y/nstagram come over right now. ↳ arthurnfhill 🫡🫡 ↳ fan WE WANT TO KNOW TOO???? Y/N SHARE WITH THE AUDIENCE????

👤 arthurnfhill liked by arthurnfhill, lisahull_hill and 92,820 others

y/nstagram smoking hot ✅ funny ✅ family oriented ✅ likes music and crafts (he made the tshirt and mug) ✅ kind and warm ✅ perfect boyfriend material if you ask me

fan OHHHH HOW I PRAYED FOR DAYS LIKE THIS

georgeclarkeey idk about funny? ↳ y/nstagram ur just salty i took ur man ↳ georgeclarkeey he may be your boyfriend but it's MY bed he comes home to xx

arthurtv HE'S ONLY GONE AND DONE IT LADS!!!!! ♥️ arthurnfhill, y/nstagram

chrismd maybe now he'll shut the fuck up about how pretty you are ↳ arthurnfhill jokes on you i'm about to double down ↳ chrismd i need to move out so bad

arthurnfhill the penelope to my colin 💚 ↳ y/nstagram come back rn i need to kiss you

fan he's pulled off the heist of the century!!!! ♥️ arthurnfhill

fan my gf's not my gf anymore :(

lisahull_hill my sleuthing works wonders! ↳ y/nstagram love you lisa ❤️ ↳ lisahull_hill arthur was right, i do love you more than him ↳ arthurnfhill MUM??? (understandable)

[lizard-queen-izzy]

I Hate Everything About You

Summary: What if Jon and Tim's fight at the end of MAG 65 had gone a little differently? [Most of the dialogue is from the transcripts so obviously full credit to Jonny for those lines.] Word count: 1952 Author's note: It's finally here! Sorry to keep you all waiting, but it's here now! I would apologize in advance but, I'd have to feel remorse to apologize so.

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

The tape recorder clicked back to life. 

“Supplemental. It looks like my posting on a few of the more tech-savvy boards appealing for statements has worked. While the incident itself seems ultimately inconsequential, I was able to convince Tessa to have a look at Gertrude’s laptop, claiming to have locked myself out,” Jon turned to the now glowing screen of the laptop. “I don’t know what she did - something about “command lines’’ and “administrative privileges” - But I now. Have. Access.” he let out a slow, shaky breath. “I’m almost afraid-” he froze at the sound of the door creaking open. Tim stepped through the door.

“Hey, where did you put the-” He stopped at the sight of Jon hunched over the recorder. “Oh. Sorry. Didn’t mean to disturb you while you were being suspicious-”

“It’s fine.” Jon cut him short before he could drag this nonsense out again.

“No, no, I’ll - catch you when you’re not scheming.” He threw his hands up and backed out the door, turning and reaching to pull it shut behind him. Jon knew he should leave it at that. But he couldn’t help the words that spilled from his mouth, unfortunately, loud enough for Tim to hear.

“No need to take that tone-” Tim whipped around faster than Jon thought possible.

“What?” There was a venom in Tim’s voice, the look of disbelief on his face made something twist in Jon’s stomach. He straightened in his seat, attempting to smooth things back down to their normal levels of discomfort. “Nothing. I’ll see you later -”

“No.” Tim stepped back into the room, the door closing silently behind him. He turned the chair in front of Jon’s desk around, sitting on it. “What did you say?” He was leaning over the top of the back of the chair, still managing to tower over Jon even seated and at a distance. Jon once again readjusted in his seat, hoping he didn’t look as uncomfortable as he felt.

“I said there’s no need for the attitude, I know things have been difficult but -” Tim cut him off, again.

“Oh, they have, have they? ‘Things have been difficult?’ You’ve spent a month staring at that footage -” he leaned even closer, practically laying on the desk, “double-checking every moment, timing every tea break, looking at me like I somehow staged it - but no! You’re right: ‘Things have been difficult.’” His face was twisted in anger, his breathing was getting shallower. 

“It just seems a little too convenient!” Jon could feel himself getting worked up, could feel his composure slipping. “Excuse me!?” Tim sounded like he’d been shot. His mouth hung slightly agape, and Jon couldn’t place the look in his eyes.

“I mean, the CCTV is so corrupted that the police can’t just use it immediately, and then they happen to finish restoring it when I start really digging into the murder!? And if it was an option, why not clean it up when she first disappeared!?” He could hear himself getting louder, but he didn’t care. Tim wanted to talk, they were talking now. “And don’t get me started on the lack of cameras in the Archives - I know, I know Elias’s whole spiel about ‘signal degradation’ and ‘installation issues,’ but I don’t buy it. I mean, he got the CO2 system put in easily enough-”

“Shut. Up.” TIm’s voice cut through Jon, silencing him. He looked up to see Tim staring at the desk, teeth and fists both clenched, tight. 

“What-”

“Shut up. Just stop talking. I’m sick of this. I’m sick of you! We didn’t kill Gertrude, and no one wants to kill you, you pompous idiot!” 

“Now, listen here-” Tims hand slammed into the desk.

“No. No. You listen, for once. I was fine in research. Happy. Then you asked me to be transferred here and suddenly it’s all monsters and killers and secret passages, oh my!” He was standing now, making his way around to Jon’s side of the desk. Jon turned in his seat to face him, not yet daring to stand. “And the worst thing - the actual worst thing - is that no one here has my back. With any of it! Elias doesn’t care, Martin just wants a tea party, and Sasha - ugh - and you! - You’re treating me like I’m somehow to blame for it all, like I didn’t suffer the worst right alongside you!” His breathing was ragged now, and Jon stood to meet him. “Well, excuse me if my experiences have made me-” but Tim cut him off again, this time punctuated by shoving him backwards into the wall.

“Your experiences? Fuck you, I got eaten by worms because of you!” His fist was balled in the front of Jon’s shirt, holding him in place against the wall. Jon squirmed in his grasp, turning his head as far up as he could to try and meet Tim’s eyes. Tim’s gaze was hard and set on Jon and nothing else. If looks could kill, well, Jon was glad they couldn’t. 

“Well, what do you want? You want sympathy?” He spat the last word out, and something flashed in Tim’s eyes. His grip on Jon’s shirt tightened and he pushed him further into the wall.

“You know what, yeah! Little bit of basic sympathy would have been nice!” 

“Jane Prentiss was not my fault, I did not bring her to the Archives-”

“Oh, but you went off the deep end afterwards, didn’t you!? Everything went to hell-” He was gesturing wildly at the air with the arm not currently holding Jon in place. “-and when you actually needed to be in charge, you just hid down here and played with your tape recorder.”

“Well, what would you have me do!?”

Tim’s other arm hit the wall, caging Jon in.

“Anything! Anything that wasn't turning into a paranoid lunatic would have been fine! Anything that showed you could actually do your job!” His face was close now, and Jon could feel his breath on his cheeks. He took in a shaky breath. “Well,” he let out a strained laugh, “Elias clearly thinks-”

“Elias should’ve fired you weeks ago!”

“What!?”

“After everything you’ve pulled, you should be gone. But no! Instead, we all get to talk about how you’re feeling, because we’re worried about our stalker boss. I, I can’t do this anymore!” Tim was shaking now, and it was sending shockwaves through Jon. Jon didn’t know what to say to help, because nothing would fix this. Whatever he and Tim had had before Jane Prentiss, before the Archives? It was gone. Dead and buried and never coming back no matter how much he dug. He could stand there searching for words forever and none of them would undo the damage. So instead, he said all he could think to, knowing it would be the final nail in the coffin. “Then quit.” He heard his voice crack and prayed Tim didn’t, “If you hate it so much, leave your post in the Archives. Permanently.”

“Are you firing me?” The shock in Tim’s voice was like a twist of the knife Jon was trying to desperately pretend wasn’t driving its way through his heart. That same, unidentifiable look passed in his eyes, and it made Jon hesitate for a moment before proceeding.

“...I’m offering you a chance to quit. No notice period, I’ll even make sure you get the rest of the month’s paycheck. Just say the words.” The silence hung between them like a challenge. Neither of them moved, Jon could barely feel Tim’s breath on his face, almost like he was afraid breathing would be response enough. Tim slumped forward, forehead practically resting on Jon’s.

“I want to…” It came out more like a release of breath than words.

“So do it.” Jon’s voice dropped to match.

“I…Can’t.” His voice cracked, and Jon saw tears beginning to fall from his eyes.

“Why not?” 

“I, I can’t! I don’t know - why can’t I quit!?”

“I-I don’t know. But I don’t think I can fire you either…”

“What?”

“It’s this place.”

“...I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I. I’m trying to figure it out I-I’ve got the shape of it but…” He started to reach for him, to offer him some kind of comfort, but his hand froze halfway to Tim’s arm. It hung in the air along with all their unspoken words. “I’m sorry, Tim. Truly I am. But I cannot and will not trust you. This place isn’t right - you see that now. I don’t know how or why, but there is something very wrong with the Archives. And I don’t know who here is a victim of it - and who is an agent.” The words filled the ever closing space between them, and they stung like salt in an open wound. Tim took in a shaky breath. “So… What do we do?”

“For now…? I suppose we just… do our jobs.”

“I don’t want to.”

“No.” Jon let the moment hang in the air. Let it be for a moment, acceptance washing over him. This was it, the end. Tim made no attempt to move, still gripping Jon’s shirt like a life-line, his other arm firmly planted against the wall, both keeping Jon from moving an inch. Jon’s own arm still hung in the air beside them, half extended to touch the arm holding his shirt. Tim’s grip tightened on Jon’s shirt, which he didn’t think possible, and his face twisted like he was deep in thought. “Tim, can you please let go?” His voice was smaller than he was proud of, but he was worried to speak any louder would make Tim do something rash. His eyes were unfocused, still looking down at Jon, but more vaguely than trained on him like prey. He tried again, in case he hadn’t heard him. “Tim.”

“No.”

“Please..”

“SHUT. UP!” His voice boomed with the sudden raise in volume, and before Jon even knew what was happening, his lips were crashing into his own. It was nothing like he’d imagined kissing Tim would be like, though he knew he didn’t deserve the soft, careful kisses he had imagined. He knew he didn’t even deserve this one. He let himself be manhandled, Tim’s hand moving off the wall to hold his jaw firmly in place while he kissed him. Jon let his hand finally fall against Tim’s chest. Flat at first, then eventually allowing himself to also clutch Tim’s shirt, pulling him further into him. He didn’t know how long he had, but he was going to relish in it as long as he could. Tim’s weight shifted almost like he’d stepped closer, god could they get any closer, and then all at once he was gone. He pulled back, putting some distance between them, and stared at Jon.   His face was flushed, his lips bright pink and still wet from the kiss. And that look in his eyes was back though Jon still couldn’t quite place it. Jon took in a breath, his whole body shaking from the effort, he knew he must look pathetic. Neither of them said anything, the silence between them back, but so different now. Tim shuffled further away from Jon, back towards the door.

“...I. um, suppose I’ll see you later.”

“I suppose so.” The door creaked loudly behind Tim as he shut it. Jon fell back down into his chair, slumped with defeat. So they weren’t going to talk about it, great. What was one more thing they wouldn’t talk about? Jon thought of getting up and following Tim, but he knew Tim wouldn’t want that. His eyes fell to the tape recorder, wheels still spinning. 

“End supplemental.” The tape recorder clicked off. ------------------------------

[vryfmi]

[major book spoilers!]

a mildly long analysis of skull and Lucy's relationship in TEG in light of recent Stroud's interview answer.

also i need this video on my blog

[audio transcript of The Writing Community Chat stream:

CJ (host), reading a question from NeeveDaFoe: I need to know why Skull is more powerful than Ezekiel!!!

Jonathan Stroud: Well, I think the power that he has is through his connection with Lucy. I think, ultimately, the message of Lockwood & Co books, and indeed most of my books, is that you get your strengths through the connection with others, love and mutual support. So, our friend, the skull, ultimately, gains his power through the relationship he's built up with Lucy over the course of the books, despite all his rude comments.

CJ, laughing: Nice!

/end transcript]

it's not like i didn't know it beforehand, the message is very clear in the books and especially in how skull and Ezekiel are juxtaposed in their confrontation. that skull looks almost like his alive self minus transparency and gauntness of his features, while Ezekiel has barely anything that would make us think he used to be human. he's disconnected from reality, he views himself as an ascended being. meanwhile skull is there to be a sarcastic menace and definitely not to save Lucy bc he definitely didn't grow to care for her.

but the thing is that Lucy tried to put her trust into skull only now. it wasn't even her first decision when confronting Marissa and Ezekiel, far from it. she'd freed skull only when Lockwood came in and she wasn't afraid to face whatever was at hand alone. being strangled by insane old woman possessing her granddaughter's body or get ghost-touched by Ezekiel or skull at that matter — doesn't make much of a difference. she did promise skull to free him, she got the taste of what it's like to be stuck on The Other Side, so she delivered, trusting that skull won't hurt her nor Lockwood when the two of them were seconds away from taking Marissa down, even if it was the last thing she did.

saying that skull payed back Lucy for freeing him just doesn't seem right. she was feeding him empty promises the whole book to the point where both skull and Lucy knew that they had this same conversation over and over again to no avail. but skull kept bringing it up. while Lucy couldn't bring herself to trust skull even after all help he provided for her and her friends.

but her attitude changes once she meets skull on The Other Side, the person that he once was. or at least that what she thinks in that moment because that's the same skull she was talking to for the past 2 years. Lucy has a clear disconnect: seeing not just an obscure grimace in the jar but a whole person before her. it strikes that The Lucy Carlyle Formula™ button and she aches with sympathy describing skull's appearance, acknowledging that he passed away at young age, at her age. whether she sees her situation and her inevitable demise in him, or is simply struck with "there's more to just the skull (a literal bone), there's a person before her", Lucy has a full 180 on skull from that point forward. but it's too late and it's her fault. skull gets taken away and Lucy is left alone in the kitchen. how much did she regret not listening to skull, not trusting him, not getting to know him? apparently a lot judging by their second (technically third) run into each other on The Other Side:

A wave of something washed through me. Relief? Pleasure at seeing something familiar in this dreadful place? Whatever it was, it made me warm. (TEG)

[i know what you are]

but if Lucy had time to ponder, so did skull. it makes sense that he'd say 'Shared names come with trust'. i believe he told the truth there and he forgot his name for good but still made it clear for Lucy — it's a bit too late for getting to know each other, especially after Lucy was giving him a cold shoulder, when that hammer was still on her belt. for all he knew, Lucy and her friends could've had not made it across Dark London and he'd be forever trapped in Fittes basement or worse. in any other situation he'd have no one to blame but circumstances, but here it would've been Lucy's fault.

and yet, despite all that, despite all rude comments and headbutting, skull's more human than Ezekiel because of Lucy, and he's stronger than Ezekiel because he cares for and loves Lucy. not my words, Stroud's. whatever sick manipulations and control Ezekiel had over Marissa and vice versa, it stood no chance against two mean teenagers that fought their way through trauma with humor, sarcasm and gratuitous bum jokes.

now leave me alone to sulk over skullyle

[palioom]

say my name (javier peña x f!reader)

summary: after along day and many setbacks at work, you invite an exhausted javier over to a drink at your place. but you both have more than just a drink on your mind. pairing: javier peña x f!reader word count: 7.6k warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n (but a lot of nicknames); smoking & drinking, swearing (lots of swearing), rough sex, some choking, biting, some spanking, dirty talk, unprotected p in v, teasing because javier is an asshole

• masterlist •

It was late at the DEA headquarters, the clock almost striking midnight, and yet, some few offices were still lit brightly, the fluorescent lights buzzing above the occupants. In one such office, two people were still buried in heaps upon heaps of paperwork, the air stale from the copious amounts of cigarettes smoked as they worked, the ashtray about to overflow.

They were all Javier’s, the stress of the day having him smoking one after the other, as if his life depended on it. 

At this point, it might as well.

She sat at a table not too far away from his, head in her hands as she looked over photos and transcripts, trying to find something. 

Something that would help Peña and Murphy to catch another narco. Another sicario.

Maybe even Escobar himself. 

She was tired, so damn tired, a good gallon of coffee or two pumping through her veins. Coffee, just because she wasn’t about to get fired for drinking on the job.

Though, with the amount of trips people took to the file rooms or bathrooms, the not-so-secret turns of bodies into a corner before their head flew back, a little silver glint here and there. Yeah, she wouldn’t even stand out trying to cope with this job through alcohol.

All while this wasn’t even her job. 

Not truly, at least. 

She was here to assist the two agents in their hunt, having been delegated to desk duty after she had been injured and declared unfit for field work years back. 

But that didn’t mean she was expected to stay here for more than half a day, killing her eyes and her sleep along with her personal life and, god knows what else, while looking at these damn papers and chugging coffee as if it was the elixir of life.

To some, it probably was.

The words didn’t even make fucking sense anymore and she wondered how long she had been rereading the same paragraph for. 

Hell, how long had she tried to make sense of the first three words of this damn sentence already?

No, this was a personal thing for Peña. Having started off rocky, his cocky and flirtatious attitude colliding with her loud, easily irritable mouth, they had formed some form of friendship over their time together here. 

That had taken some time and effort, though.

He kept her sane with his no-nonsense mouth, so far away from her family back in the States that she wasn’t allowed to talk about anything with.

And she kept him out of trouble as much as she could.

Which sometimes meant she took the blame for some of his blunders. Or those of Murphy. 

They weren’t exactly just a few blunders.

God, she hated them sometimes.

Looking over at Javier, he didn’t seem to fare much different from her; cigarette in one hand as the other one rubbed his temple. He looked fucking exhausted, worse so than her, probably. Which was no wonder, given he had been out there hunting Escobar today, he had been out there and had him slip right through his hands. 

In a way, it was her fault as well, not finding the clues to his whereabouts and plans quickly enough and then puzzling them together wrong, infecting everyone with her falsely constructed theory.

Escobar had escaped by mere minutes.

The talking-to she got from Messina had been fucking awful. Not even Peña had tried to argue.

She had been beating herself up all day over this, trying to do better on a new pile of intel, trying to recall all the mistakes that could have led to her fucking this up so hard and finding a way to avoid them. It probably was part of the reason she had stayed even after Murphy had thrown in the towel, citing Connie as to why. 

That, and because she wanted to help Javier out, somehow. Maybe even look after him. 

God knows he needed someone to do so.

“You good, Peña?” She asked, squinting at him. These horrible lights had her eyes hurting, bringing a small headache with them.

He looked up at her, eyes tired and taking a drag of his cigarette. “I’m fine, hermosa. You?”

She still hated these flirtatious nicknames. 

“Don’t lie to me, Peña.” She responded, rubbing a hand over her face as she leaned back in her chair, stretching her legs. The rhythmic ticking of the clock had her glance over at it for a moment before looking back at him. “You look fucking awful. Think about calling it a day yet?”

Javier shook his head, brows furrowed as he exhaled the smoke. “There’s gotta be something we missed.” His brown eyes darted back down to the paper in front of him, flying over the small, black letters.

She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest with an annoyed glare. That was the one thing she hated about him, still, besides his attitude. 

That tendency to work himself into the grave if need be. 

“Javi.” His name only earned a small hum as he kept looking over the paper, so she repeated it again. She only really used this version of his name when she was serious. “Javi. Look at me.”

He did, eyes finding her face again with raised brows. 

“What?” 

There wasn’t even an attempt to hide the annoyance in his voice.

“You’ll work yourself into the ground if you keep this up.” The sternness in her voice was underlined with a hint of concern. When he tried to protest, she didn’t even acknowledge it. “Wanna give these fuckers out there a reason to celebrate? You need a fucking rest.”

A moment of silence.

“I know you can’t even fucking comprehend the words in front of you anymore.”

He sighed. A hint of defeat. 

Arguing with Javier Peña wasn’t exactly easy. The agent always had a response to everything, needing to have the last word.

Stubbing out his cigarette in the overflowing ashtray, he let his head fall into his hands, rubbing both of his temples with a groan. “We’ll never get him if we stop now, hermosa.” He said, voice rough. It wasn’t hard to overhear just how exhausted he was, it took an idiot not to notice.

“We won’t get him either if we drop dead from exhaustion, Javier.” There was a harshness to what she said, the words coming out rougher than she had intended them to. It was the only thing he ever really heard, though. “I’m asking you to stop for tonight, not to blow all of this off indefinitely.”

Javier didn’t respond, still rubbing his temples. With the way his hands were positioned she couldn’t see his face, so she wasn’t sure if he was thinking about her words or just ignoring her. 

There would be hell if he ignored her now. “I’m worried about you, Javi.” 

Maybe the caring approach would help, she knew he reserved a soft spot for her deep under those way too tight shirts of his. Even if he didn’t want to admit it. “Let’s call it a day, it’s almost midnight. Join me for a drink at my place, then go home. Or stay. I don’t care.” Another moment of silence.

“You only wanna hitch a ride.” He said, a smirk evident in his tone even if she couldn’t see it.

It made her chuckle, “Yeah, maybe.” 

He sighed deeply, lifting his head and looking at her with the smirk he had been hiding, his eyes twinkling a little as he lifted an eyebrow briefly. “Alright, let’s pack up.”

Thank God it worked, she sighed internally, still smiling as she packed her few belongings and put them in her purse. In quick movements she had gotten up and grabbed her leather jacket off the back of her chair, happy to get out of the stale air of the office.

“You can be quite convincing, sweetheart.” He chuckled, fishing another smoke out of the box in his shirt pocket. If the narcos didn’t kill him, it sure as fuck would be those things. “Gotta admit that. Too bad you’re not doin’ field work anymore.”

She rolled her eyes, walking down the long corridor alongside him, trying to keep up with his long strides. A million times she had told him to lay off the flirty names at work, else someone could get the wrong impression.

It wasn’t difficult not to, with his reputation.

It didn’t help that she was attracted to him, brushing off his attempts over and over again because she didn’t want to be another girl under his belt. Not that she’d ever tell him that, instead just feigning a lack of interest, which he always responded to with a stupid comment of his.

“Peña.” She warned, raising a brow as she looked over at him. “Stop calling me sweetheart, Javier. Someone’s gonna get the wrong impression, I told you.”

Javier chuckled again, putting away his lighter. “Why not, sweetheart?” A smirk stretched the dark mustache wide over his lips, looking down at her in forged innocence, a playful glimmer in his eyes. “What wrong impression could they get, baby?”

A long groan escaped her, grinding her teeth together as her jaw flexed. 

He’d be the death of her. 

“No ‘baby’, either. Fucking Christ, Javier.” Rubbing a hand over her face, she sighed in annoyance, eyeing the exit just a few feet away from her. “Because people will think that we’re fucking. There’s enough gossip as is.”

The thought of calling him something as equally as embarrassing had crossed her mind many times, names ranging from ‘hot stuff’ to ‘goober’ to ‘lover boy’. But something told her he’d just find it amusing as hell.

“Alright, alright. Don’t wanna taint your reputation, princess.” Javier conceded, the smirk on his face growing wider as he saw her face go red, eyes narrowing as she let out another annoyed groan. It was so easy to get under her skin.

“You motherfucker.” She grumbled, giving him a playful shove as his arm wrapped around her shoulders for a moment, pulling her against him with a laugh.

The car ride to her apartment went by mostly in silence, some slow Latin songs playing on the radio, the streets empty. She looked at him as he drove, one hand on the steering wheel and the other hanging out the window, eyes fixed on the road. It was a wonder he could still drive, as tired as he looked, bags under his eyes, hair disheveled.

He looked so different when he didn’t think he was being watched, still his stern self but he was more relaxed, looked more open. It was what she often recognized in herself, that need to overplay how he really felt, deep inside.

It didn’t make him less attractive, though. Especially in the flickering lights passing by them. Highlighting the way his forearms flexed as he turned the wheel, the prominent veins on the back of his hand.

His lovely, big nose, thick mustache and those fucking plush lips.

What they’d feel like on hers?

Javier caught her staring, looking over at her with a smirk, thumb of his free hand swiping along his bottom lip. “Like what you see?”

She groaned, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms over her chest. “Fuck off.”

“Gotta have a reason for starin’.” He added, dark eyes moving back to the road but finding great joy in her reaction. “Thinking about more than just a drink?”

“Lord help me.” She sighed, a hand running through her hair, seeing him round the corner to pull into the parking lot of her apartment complex. “No, I was thinking about asking you to stay the night.” 

Seeing his smirk widen in the corner of her eye, she realized that she had only given him another thing to jump on, quickly adding, “You’re tired, I know it won’t be just one drink and I can’t let you drive any more in this state, fucking hell.”

Parking his Jeep and turning off the engine, he looked over at her, squeezing her knee briefly. 

Why was he always so goddamn touchy? 

His warm hand made her heart skip a beat.

An amused twinkle laid in his eyes. “If you say so.” 

 “I hate you.”

Her eyes narrowed, unbuckling her seatbelt.

“You don’t.” Unbuckling as well, he opened the door. “C’mon, princess, let’s get inside.”

“Thin. Fucking. Ice.” She growled, exiting the car and walking off.

Inside, she threw her purse and jacket on a kitchen chair, opening the top buttons of her dark blouse while Javier made a beeline straight to the kitchen cabinet he knew housed her alcohol. 

She had been itching to open this damn collar all day, the Colombian heat doing her in, but she was worried about the leering stares of other agents. So, she had sweat and suffered in silence, fanning herself with anything in her reach, glancing at Javier who could just walk around with practically his entire shirt undone, not worrying about a damn thing.

The display had made things a little more bearable, at least.

Fuck, she really wasn’t better than any of the men, was she?

“What d’you want?” He asked, taking her out of her thoughts. As if he didn’t already know the answer. “Wine? Or whiskey?”

“Bold of you to offer me the contents of my cabinet, Peña.” She laughed, leaning on the counter top of the small kitchen island. “I need a whiskey.”

Closing the cabinet doors, he twisted the cap off the Jim Beam, pouring each of them a drink. She watched him, his back turned to her, seeing his muscles move under the tight, tan shirt. 

In a way she was grateful not to do any field work anymore, she probably would have problems concentrating if this was her view all day, his short sleeved shirt half undone, sweat glistening on his neck and chest as he handled his gun.

It made her feel hot in more ways than one.

Damn, she needed that drink badly.

Turning around, he handed one glass to her. Holding his own into the air, he said, “To catching these bastards.”

She raised her own, cheersing him. “To catching these bastards.” She echoed, downing the dark liquid in one gulp, grimacing as the burn traveled down the back of her throat. A warmth settled in her stomach, spreading through her body almost instantly and letting her relax a little. 

If only there wasn’t another familiar heat, settling deep in her abdomen as she watched him take a sip.

“C’mon.” She said, rounding him to grab the bottle of bourbon, walking into the direction of the living room. “Let’s sit on the sofa a little.”

Javier stared after her, taking one more sip as he shook his head before he followed, watching her flop down into the soft cushions with a content sigh, kicking off her shoes. 

“My type of woman.” He chuckled, finishing his glass and sitting down next to her, taking off his shoes as well. There was a small distance between them, not big enough for another person to fit, but to leave each of them a bit of space. “I’m actually quite surprised you can finish a glass of whiskey that quickly, hermosa.”

He set his glass down on the small coffee table in front of them, throwing his pack of smokes down next to it after he fished them out of his shirt pocket. “I wouldn’t be able to say the same about most girls I know.”

“Whoa, totally not sexist at all, Peña.” She laughed, pouring them both the second round of whiskey before leaning back into the cushions with a shake of her head. “It’s all practice, drink enough of this stuff and anything is possible, you should know.”

“Practice.” He scoffed, raising a brow and leaning back as well, his drink untouched. “This isn’t practice. You’re a special one, sweetheart.”

She shrugged her shoulders, looking at him with a smirk as she brought her glass to her lips.

“A woman who can handle her liquor,” Javier mused, looking right at her, “I wonder what else you can handle.”

The whiskey burned as she choked on it, coughing hard as some of it shot up her nose. 

Fucking hell, he couldn’t be serious about that. 

She wiped away the liquid that had spilled down her chin with the back of her hand, still sputtering. “What are you implying?”

There was a playful twinkle in his eyes, watching with amusement as she tried to regain her composure, her cheeks flushing red. It was adorable in a way, different from how she quipped when surrounded by people at the headquaters.

“I mean liquor, guns, maybe...” He laughed, an arm coming to rest on the back of the sofa as he leaned back against the arm rest, legs opening slightly. There was a brief moment where he caught her stare traveling down, right to the middle of his tight jeans. “What else would I be implying?”

Of course he caught her staring.

“Knowing you, it could be anything.” 

God, he was teasing her relentlessly today, unsure if the alcohol made her cheeks flush crimson or the way he looked at her, that stupid smirk of his always on his handsome face. Him spreading his legs like that must’ve been on purpose, too.

One of his stupid flirting attempts. He couldn’t even stop when he was on the brink of collapse.

Leaned back on her sofa like this, alcohol in his system, he seemed to come alive a bit. Features still tired but some energy in his brown eyes now.

He chuckled, grabbing his glass and this time he was the one to knock it back all at once, grimacing only the faintest bit at the burn, a low hiss leaving him. “My mind’s still on you downing that glass. It’s hot, cariño.”

Javier leaned forward now, definitely intruding in her space. Eyes flickering down to her open collar, they lingered for just a little too long, trying to make out what she was wearing underneath.

He’d be damned if she was fucking naked under this.

That thought made him strain against his pants, shifting his hips.

He subconsciously licked his lips as he looked back up into her dark eyes. 

They were pretty, he thought, looking back at him with a mix of uncertainty and something that he would describe as lust. The blush on her cheeks was clearly visible now, a broad hand coming up to brush his knuckles over one of them before moving to put some strands of hair behind her ear. Then, it landed on her thigh, squeezing it.

“You know what else is hot?”

He could feel the shiver running through her, the breath hitching in her throat at the question. At the touch of his hand.

She was a goner.

Despite that, she just looked at him with raised eyebrows, trying to play it cool, hoping he couldn’t see her heart beat in her throat.

Why the fuck did she opt for the whiskey? The way he looked at her made her feel way too hot, that heat in her abdomen spreading through her veins into every part of her body.

She could feel the wetness between her thighs.

“No, what is?”

She hoped she sounded as calm and collected as she wanted to sound.

In reality, she didn’t. Javier picked up on it immediately.

“You, hermosa. You know that, right?”

His eyes were fixed on hers, the hand on her thigh coming up to her face again, brushing along her lower lip now.

He had noticed her stares in recent times, glued to him when she thought he hadn’t noticed. The way she practically ate him up, undressed him, her dark eyes roaming over his exposed chest and arms. How she had looked at his hands, even if he was only twirling a pen in it.

How they flitted away when she felt caught, almost managing to look collected and innocent.

Almost.

Javier had been right to assume her excuses of no interest had been bullshit. She was just playing hard to get, much to his frustration.

He’d had an eye on her ever since they met, and as much as he tried to tell himself that she was just pretty, just a loud mouth he would like to shut up, as he fucked someone else, his mind always came back to her.

Even when they got closer, he couldn’t shake the thoughts of what she’d sound like moaning his name as he pounded into her.

Often he had felt guilty about that.

Now, he was sure she had done the same with him.

And if she wasn’t interested in him? If she was just reacting to him the way she did right now because she was exhausted and the alcohol addled her mind? Then this was just a fun, little flirt.

Something she would groan at him for now, curse at him for later, but it didn’t hurt to try.

“Getting quite red, cariño.” Javier chuckled when she stayed silent, leaning even closer. “Where’s that mouth of yours?”

She really didn’t know how to respond, mind blank save for the thoughts about how inviting his lips seemed.

Looking down at her drink for a moment before looking back up at him, she sighed.

Fuck it.

Turning her face away just briefly enough to knock back the glass of whiskey, she set it down on the table with a loud bang before surging forward and kissing him hard, hands cradling his face.

His hands fell to her hips and he pulled her closer, kissing her back hungrily, drawing a moan out of her when he bit her bottom lip. Moving away from her mouth, he kissed down her jaw to her neck, biting her pulse point.

“Not interested, huh?”

“Shut the fuck up and kiss me, Peña.”

Pulling him back to her mouth, she heatedly pressed her lips to his again, feeling his fingers dig harder into her hips as she did so. 

All the gossip that had floated through the headquarters was true. 

Javier Peña definitely knew what he was doing, she thought when his tongue slipped into her mouth.

It sent a jolt of electricity right through her, heat pooling in her abdomen.

She pushed him back firmly to lay down on the sofa, climbing on top of him as he watched with an amused smile, his eyes blown dark. Determination and hunger resided in hers, straddling him and bending down to find his lips again.

Returning to their place on her hips, his hands pulled her down. When her middle ground just lightly into the sizable tent in his tight jeans, she moaned.

He quite enjoyed that noise.

“Is my princess a little angry?” Javier cooed with a cocky smirk between kisses. Using a moment of distraction, he placed a kiss on her forehead.

All to get more of a rise out of her.

“I like this side of you, so dominating. Who could’ve known, hermosa.”

“Don’t fucking ‘princess’ me, you dick.” She growled, breathing hard, lips now moving over his jaw, the slight stubble there scratching her. Finding that sensitive spot just below his ear, she bit into it, smirking when a low groan bubbled in his throat. “Don’t fucking baby me, either.”

Thank fuck for the liquor giving her a confidence boost, as well as bringing back the energy to spar with him.

“Someone’s feisty.” He commented, mouth close to her ear and biting into the lobe. Hot breath fanned over it with every word of his. “Why the change of attitude now?”

“Cause of your cocky ass.” She replied, sitting up to unbutton some more buttons of her shirt before pulling it over her head, revealing a black, lacy bra. 

A smug smile creeped onto her lips as she stared down at him, seeing Javier take in her form, his fingers inching just a little higher, the rough pads digging into the bare, warm skin of her hips. 

For the slightest moment, his smirk fell, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. Finding her eyes, though, it sprung back, a lopsided smirk stretching his mustache wide again. 

“You and your fucking mouth, your cocky fucking attitude.” Leaning back down to him, she continued, becoming quieter, but her voice didn’t lose any of its fire. “Your goddamn fucking looks, Peña.”

Mouths back on one another, fighting for dominance, his hands roamed down. Splaying wide over her ass, Javier took a handful and squeezed, really grinding her down against his middle so she could feel him, dragging another moan out of her lungs.

He was fucking hard.

She could feel the self-satisfied smirk against her lips, his mustache tickling her.

Javier truly was gonna be the death of her.

One hand came up to her jaw, gripping it firmly. Not enough to hurt, only to make her feel the strength of it before he pulled her away from him, just far enough to take in her face. “I’m cocky, huh?”

She groaned, struggling against his grip just a little before deciding to give up. Still, she stared right into his eyes, narrowing her own just slightly.

“Yeah, you’re fucking cocky.” It was barely a whisper, but the words still had a bite to them. “You cocky hijo de puta.”

Javier watched her eyes twinkle as she said it, clearly gunning for a reaction from him as a wicked grin stretched her pretty lips wide. 

If she thought he’d give it to her this easily, she was sorely mistaken.

“I am, but you love it, cariño.” Pulling her closer to him, his mouth was over her ear again, speaking low. “Admit it.”

His voice sent a shiver down her spine and he watched as her eyes transformed, a fire lighting inside them.

She did like it, feeling how wet she got the more he talked. But she would never admit it. 

It would please him too much.

“Jódete.” 

A breathy chuckle escaped him.

“Say that again for me.” Javier whispered. “I like the sound of it when you say it like that. It's fucking hot.”

There was no denying that it turned him on, the way she swore and challenged him. His hips shifted slightly underneath her, dick twitching in his jeans.

The tight denim became uncomfortable at this point.

“Jódete.” Every syllable was punctuated firmly, grin still on her face. “You’re such a cocky motherfucker, Peña.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “You sure know how to use that mouth of yours.”

His free hand roamed over her back, toying with the clasps of her bra. It was obvious that he didn’t plan on opening it just yet, just trying to rile her up a little more. 

Even though he really wanted to see those pretty tits without their confinements.

“I really like that about you, hermosa.”

“You haven’t even seen me use it yet.” She whispered against his lips, fighting against his hand to kiss him hard.

Moving her hands to the small buttons of his shirt, a groan of frustration slipped out of her mouth and into his as she fumbled with them. The more agitated she got, the harder it seemed to grab a hold of them.

Javier enjoyed feeling her struggle, only aiding her when she nearly ripped the buttons off the garment, placing his broad hands over hers. “Need help?”

She wanted to wipe the smugness off his face. That stupid, flashy grin of his.

“Fuck you.” She whispered, lips trailing over his jaw to his neck, leaving marks with her teeth. The small hum rising in his throat was more felt than heard by her, traveling further down to the newly exposed skin, nipping at it. “Fucking bastard.”

Her hands slid out underneath his, exploring his tan chest, feeling the muscles as she moved them down his sides. 

Fuck, the glimpse of chest he showed at work really only was an appetizer. 

The way his muscles danced under her fingertips as she moved them over his ribs, then down to his stomach excited her, only feeling hotter when she reached the trail of hair vanishing under the band of his jeans.

Javier wasn’t jacked, she already knew that, loving when his stomach popped out over his pants just a little. But feeling the relative softness of it just made her love it more.

“Strange way of saying thank you.” Watching her for a moment, he closed his eyes and craned his neck with a grunt as she sucked a bruise into his chest, placing a firm bite just a few inches away after. 

A slap, followed by a sharp gasp echoed in the room, his hands colliding with her ass, a retaliation for the bite.

That definitely turned her on, more heat pooling in her stomach. And he probably felt the involuntarily roll of her hips as well.

She wouldn’t let him know, though.

The daggers she shot at him through her eyes did nothing to diminish the gleeful expression on his face as she sat up straight. That really lit a fire in her, her hands reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra, feeling too confined by the black lace.

“You wanna stay here?” She breathed, sliding the bra off of her shoulders and throwing it across the room. The corners of her mouth curled up as she watched his eyes widen just marginally, tongue flicking out again and his jaw setting. “Or you wanna move it to my bed?”

A beat of silence.

Just briefly, for a tiny, tiny moment, she thought she had shut him up for good. She should have known better than to expect a pair of breasts to silence Javier Peña.

“Your call, princess.” There was that teasing asshole again, one hand wandering up and groping at one breast, chuckling at the weak roll of her hips. The rough pad of his thumb brushed over the hardened peak and he wanted to frame the sight of her as she threw her head back, neck exposed and hair falling over her shoulders. “I’m down for whatever, so lead the way. Take command, show me what you’re all about.”

He also wanted to frame the sight of her as her head rolled forward again, piercing right through him with the determination and heat in her eyes.

That fucking nickname really spurred her on. 

This was a challenge now.

“Fuck. You.” She breathed heavily, moving so she could reach his belt. Opening the metal buckle, she worked on the button of his jeans next. “What I’m all about? I’ll show you what I’m all about, Peña.”

Wrenching the fabric open, she let her hand glide in, wrapping her fingers around his cock, finding him hard and leaking as his hips jerked up into her touch. “You’ll say my name like a fucking prayer when I’m done with you, asshole.”

He swallowed hard, his jaw set. The feeling of her fingers was incredible, and he had to restrain himself from fucking into her fist when she moved her hand. If she wanted a challenge, she would get one.

“Yeah? You gonna make me say your name?” Javier breathed, hands moving to unbutton her pants. “Pretty sure it’s the other way around, sweetheart.”

He pulled on the denim, movements rough. He was aided by her as she took her hands away from his cock and shifted so he could yank them down her legs before throwing them to the side, followed by her black panties. 

When she went to remove his jeans, however, one of his hands twisted into her hair, yanking her down and against his lips, tearing a surprised moan from her which he used to slip his tongue into her mouth.

In any other scenario, she would have loved to simply give in to him, letting him manhandle her and fuck her into the couch. But right now, she was much too proud, much too determined to shut his cocky mouth up than to give him control.

She’d show him who was the boss here.

His free hand slid between them, a finger gliding through the lips of her cunt, finding her soaked. Her hips stuttered, moaning again when he ghosted over her swollen clit.

“Yeah, you’ll show me?” He mocked, applying just the faintest bit of pressure and watching as her eyes rolled into the back of her head. What a fucking sight. “With a pussy this wet for me already?”

There wasn’t a chance in the world she would get him to submit, hearing her moan after barely being touched. Maybe he should let her try, it would be fun to see her exhaust herself at the attempt.

He bet she would crumble not long from now, even if he enjoyed this back and forth massively.

“Fucking show me, then.” Letting go of her with a push, he leaned back, putting his hands behind his head and looking up at her expectantly. “Go on, hermosa.”

She sat up, breathing hard. Seeing him like this, laid back and relaxed as if this didn’t even faze him at all - as if he was on fucking holiday at some beach and enjoying the sun - it only made her angry, determined to get him to break.

“You smug motherfucker.” She whispered.

Moving off of him, she pulled down his jeans hastily, underwear coming off with it, suppressing a groan when she straddled him again, feeling his cock slide through her folds. She braced herself on his chest, breasts pushed forward and rolling her hips so she slid over him, just teasing him with a smile. 

It seemed to do more for her than it did for him, though. He didn’t even take his eyes off her face, even though she knew he really wanted to watch her pussy get his cock soaked.

Javier barely fucking reacted at all.

His stubbornness was admirable, she had to give him that.

As much as she wanted to continue to tease him, trying to draw him out somehow, she was also reminded of her own need for him, clenching around nothing when the head of his cock nudged against her clit. 

Biting her lip, she reached down, positioning herself so he was lined up with her and slowly sank down on him, watching his reaction.

A tiny crack showed in his self control, his teeth grinding together as he felt how tight she was around him, brown eyes flicking down to where she was sinking down on him. 

The sight of him spearing her open was mesmerizing.

“Mierda.” It was so quiet she almost overheard it, her mind dizzy from how fucking good he stretched her open, clenching around him when he was buried all the way to the hilt.

“Fuck, you’re huge.” It slipped out of her in a breathless whisper, mentally scolding herself for saying it out loud and hoping he hadn’t heard. 

No need to stroke his ego more.

But he had heard, his eyes moving back up to hers, mustache stretched wide over his lips once more.

Fuck.

“I am, huh, baby?” Javier grinned, arms still behind his head, biceps tensing. “A nice, huge cock to stretch that tight pussy of yours open. You like that, hm?”

Of course she fucking liked it. Growling in frustration as she grit her teeth, she threw her head back, looking at the ceiling. His words only made her cunt pulse around him, hating that he would feel it, too.

Slowly, she lifted herself up, biting her lip to stifle a moan when she had almost moved off of him before sinking all the way back down. 

She would not give him the satisfaction of hearing her, too.

“C’mon, baby, where’s that mouth of yours?” He nodded at her, brows furrowed in mock concern. Feeling her pulse around him amused him, but he really needed to hear her fight back.

So, he put himself into the game, one hand gripping her hair again to bend her down to him, lips almost touching while the other grabbed her hip so hard it would leave bruises.

Oh, she liked that, too.

“Tell me you like it, baby.”

“Fuck you.”

His grip tightened, hips thrusting up into her. It took her by surprise, jolting forward with a loud moan, and Javier pushed her hips down onto him again, giving her no way to escape.

“That really all you can come up with?” He set a harsh pace, meeting every thrust of hers, pushing himself all the way in.

“Shut your fucking mouth, cabrón.” She could feel him twitch inside her, smiling breathlessly when she realized that he seemed to enjoy the bit of Spanish she had picked up from working here. “Don’t wanna hear your fucking voice unless you start chanting my name.”

He couldn’t help the laugh that left him. “Your pussy’s telling me somethin’ different.”

His hand left her hair, moving to her hips as well as he accentuated his words with a harsh snap of his hips, pressing her down into his lap when their lips met again and he swallowed her sounds.

He controlled the roll of her hips with his hands, feeling her struggling against his grip. Right now, he just wanted to break down her resolve, make her call out for him.

A sharp slap on her ass almost got him what he wanted.

“Ja-” She cut herself off before his name fully slipped out, head dropping to the crook of his neck and stifling the moan bubbling in her throat as she sank her teeth into the skin there which only earned her another slap.

Shit, she was close. At this point, she wasn’t sure if she had bit off more than she could chew. 

He seemed absolutely solid, so in control of himself while she struggled, hard.

“C’mon, princess,” he grunted, punctuating the nickname with a snap of his hips, “that’s it, pretty girl, you almost had it. Just say it.”

The mocking strengthened her determination as much as it made that coil inside her tighten, close to the edge. 

Her lips moved along his neck, teeth nipping at his skin in an attempt to drag him closer to the edge as well, her hips grinding down on him harder.

It was working, but he wouldn’t show that so easily.

When one of his hands moved in between them, finding her sensitive clit, aching for friction, a whine slipped past her lips, pussy squeezing him so tightly that a groan rumbled in his chest.

“You’re fucking unfair.” She groaned against his neck, a hand grabbing at his forearm to try and pull him away. It was incredibly hot to her how his muscles and tendons moved below the skin and against her fingers.

“How am I being unfair, baby?” He asked, breath heavy as he bit into her earlobe. The way she gripped his cock was making him break slowly but surely, but he’d never let her win this.

“You’re playing dirty, you bastard.”

Javier chuckled, moving his hand away from her clit to wrap the arm around her middle instead, pinning her against him. Angling his hips, he drove into her harder, the slight change in position making him reach deeper, taking note of how she suppressed a noise.

“Say my name, sweetheart, c’mon.”

She shook her head, a hand coming up to grip his hair. Moving his head to allow herself more access, she sucked more purple marks into his skin.

“Never. Not in a million years.”

She could feel him get closer too, now; his breath labored, grunts and moans catching in his throat. Yet his hips still drove up into her at the same brutal pace.

“You know what I like about you?” He grit out, arm tightening around her. “Your pride’s bigger than mine.”

The hand on her hip gave her ass another smack.

“But I’ll fucking break yours.”

Fucking hell. His words shot straight to her pussy, clenching around him.

“You won’t.” She groaned, feeling emboldened to beat him. “I’ll make you sing my name and if it’s the last thing I do.”

His mouth found her neck, mirroring what she had been doing to him, feeling her pulse quicken as her hips stuttered. He was at the brink of an orgasm himself, surprised by how long she managed to resist him, fighting hard for control. 

It only turned him on more, that fierceness of hers, the will to make him break and give in.

Because if she wasn’t the one to give in first and doing so, soon, he was the one to lose this fight, and he really couldn’t let that happen. 

His fucking ego wouldn’t allow him to.

So he let go of her middle, and as expected, she sat up just a little, bracing herself on the armrest behind him as she changed the angle, bouncing on his cock. Her tits jumped with every movement, right into his face as her back arched and he couldn’t resist the urge to take one hardened nipple into his mouth, groping the other with his free hand. 

She ground into him harder, losing her rhythm as his teeth grazed over the bud, tongue soothing the bite and he grunted, feeling her squeeze him.

“Just say it, you asshole.” She whined desperately, teetering right at the edge but willing herself not to fall over it. It was so damn difficult, his cock hitting all the right spots, his mouth on her breast only bringing her closer.

An idea came to her, one hand wrapping around the base of his throat, pushing him away from her chest and back into the armrest. Sweat dripped down his temples, his jaw set again as she looked down on him with lidded eyes.

He looked so fucking good like this, lust clearly on his features now and that fucking cocky smile gone. Eyes slightly widened at her grip around his throat, only applying light pressure on the sides.

He liked this.

“I wanna cum on your fucking cock, Peña.”

She was right there with him. 

“Yeah?” He breathed. “Let me feel that pretty pussy, hermosa.”

His hand left her breast to find her clit again, rubbing tight circles into it with his thumb. 

That was all she needed to fall over the edge, screaming his name as she did.

“Yes, Javier!” Her hips stuttered, body shaking as she contracted around him, her orgasm hitting her so hard she saw stars dance behind her eyes when she screwed them shut. “Javi, fuck! Yes!”

Her arm gave out, collapsing against his chest and burying her face in the crook of his neck as the waves kept washing through her.

It was all he needed, too. 

Grunting her name, his hips pressed up into her as her pussy gripped him tight, pulling his cock in deep before he stilled, his thumb working her through her waves and his.

The sound she wrangled from him made it sound like he was in severe pain, biting into her shoulder so hard it would definitely leave a distinct mark. 

She cried out again, his bite hurting her and his thumb on her clit driving her into overstimulation, grabbing at his forearm. He understood, letting go when she left crescent marks in his skin and wrapped his arm around her middle to pull her close.

Silence filled the room, save for their labored breathing, trying to come down from the intense high. His hand traced mindless circles into her skin.

After a moment, he tapped her hip and she shifted, feeling him pull out with a low grunt. She could feel his cum leak out of her, the feeling so vulgar but intoxicating, already missing the feeling of him inside her. 

Moving so she was laying half on top of him, no longer straddling him as their legs entangled, she rested her head on his chest and watched him reaching out for the pack of smokes on the table, fishing one out and lighting it.

He took a long drag, expelling the white mist with a long sigh.

“I won.” He chuckled.

She groaned. For a moment she had completely forgotten about the challenge, enjoying the silence between them.

He really couldn’t stop this cocky attitude for even just a moment.

But did she really care, though? The orgasm had been so great, she almost didn’t give a fuck that she lost to him.

Almost.

“Nice try, though, hermosa.” Javier added and she couldn’t help but smile at the comment.

“Know what, Javi?” She said, pushing herself up so she could look him in the face. A hand came up to brush the damp hair off his forehead, carding her fingers through his dark locks. The fire in her eyes had diminished, replaced with tenderness. 

They still held that sparkle, though.

“You fucked me so well I honestly don’t give a fuck you won.”

It was meant to dampen his victory just a little, even if it stroked his ego.

“But you should stay the night more often.” She added with a grin.

Her hand came to rest on his cheek, thumb stroking over his cheekbone.

“Good, cause I’m not sure I can just let this little pussy of yours go.”

He pulled her down into a kiss by her chin, more tender now.

Maybe Javier Peña being a cocky asshole wasn’t that horrible.

Certainly not when he fucked her the way he did.

[pink-chevalier]

Previous — Next Transcript Below ↓

Tasha: Hey.

Percy: Hey.

Tasha: I-Thanks for coming. I really thought you weren't going to show up. 

Percy: To be honest, I was debating about approaching you.

Tasha: You're that mad at me?

Percy: It's a weird mix of emotions. 

Tasha: I-I understand. 

Percy: Do you? Because if you understood how I felt, you wouldn't have said all that. 

Tasha: I wasn't thinking, Percy. 

Percy: Yeah, I read the word vomit text message you sent me. 

Tasha: I didn't know what to write, and I-I don't know; I really didn't know how to apologize to you. 

Percy: A simple I'm sorry, and can we talk in person? That would've been fucking great. 

Tasha: You know how I get when I'm nervous. 

Percy: Can you stop making excuses?

Tasha: I'm not making excuses; I'm trying to explain myself. 

Percy: You're doing a shitty job because all I hear are excuses, Tasha. 

Tasha: Percy, I'm fucking trying here, but you keep giving me attitude. 

Percy: Cause I expected an apology. I'm sorry; it should've been the first thing out of your mouth. 

Tasha: Then give me the chance to say it. 

Percy: And you better explain why you were a complete homophobe. 

Tasha: Listen, I  can apologize to you, but I don't know how to explain why I was acting like that. You know that I'm not homophobic. 

Percy: If you're not homophobic, then you would be able to tell me what's going on. 

Tasha: Because Maddox said that I don't have to explain myself! He should. I could just apologize, and we would make up. 

Percy: Of fucking course he did. If it was anything else, like you broke my Lego spaceship, then I would forgive you, but you called me and Oliver disgusting. 

Tasha: I don't think that at all!

Percy: Then why the fuck would you say that!?

Tasha: BECAUSE I FUCKING LOVE YOU!

[rizsu]

to you, my woman al haitham + kaveh.

sum. royalty au, not with genshin lore, and a COMPLETE brainfart omg i just needed to get this out

i. first impressions always count | 3.4k words

the lies and the truths: two terms that bind together to make balance. the reflection of the water in the basin mimics you. the wavering ripples and droplets that yelp each time your hand moves in it. a cold morning is what it is. eyebags that couldn't have been more protruding, a frown that holds every unspoken emotion, eyes that rid themselves of numbness — a sickening morning. you're alone, thankfully. amidst the sun's warming beams holds a dull you.

the day you've loathed has come. at the last supper, where a few envoys from the land of the righteous, sumeru, had arrived on the queen's note to deliver her qwords. it was but a slight favour on your side; hidden in her handwritten letter, she offered a deal: marry your daughter to my son. such can benefit both, if you permit. the answer lay in your palms — choose wisely, king.

her offer — or rather, her threat—held her attitude throughout. compared to your father, she's someone to worship. like a fool to a tyrant, your father had no choice. each day by the hour, does your blood seethe with hatred. annoyance for your family, hatred for your greed-ridden father, revulsion for everything that dawns in this damned kingdom. 

from the second you were born, they've placed their wants on you. praising you, forcing you, making you their pure goddess. within enevis's dome was the saying "she who borns shall become she who reigns." it's derived directly from the gods that once served these grounds day and night. sitting boldly at the temple's front, the transcript reads words that were shed from the mighty himself to the new goddess. ever since that moment, to her people who live, each time a woman has been blessed into the royalty, she shall be called 'the goddess' descent.' 

just pure tomfoolery. what is a deity to a man? a nobel to a peasant? a dream to a non-believer? you've been dragged on as a saintess all your life. controlled like a puppet by its master. a sing-song tale of marionette to her box; she's stuck in a neverending loop, unable to grasp free no matter the attempts. almost like you, who once tried marriage to set yourself free. at the very least, you loved him.

he wasn't anyone special — an average man, is what he was. compared to your status as enevis's sole princess, he was a pedestrian, at least. a farmer on the outskirts of town, producing homegrown crops for the capital's people (not that he earned much anyway). the first time you laid your eyes on him was when you snuck out through the window. it was idiotic, truly, but alas, it gave you a sense of peace. you had to pay off the guards that stood at their posts. one could only pray that your gold was enough for them.

nights of sneaking out turned into marriage. a marriage that wasn't approved of, no matter the pleas. nevertheless, you were a grown woman. you made your choice, even if it angered your mother.

parallel to euphoria, a six-month run was well lived. you couldn't quite clear your status as a princess, but you could've lived with him. a husband and his wife, both living quietly at their home. it wasn't the extravagance you were shaped into, but it felt comfortable. such dreams can only last a minute, unfortunately.

had you known. had you only known that your father wasn't going to let you wander off through his grip. He was enraged at your marriage. "was your vacation enough?" he asked, using your husband's chest as his sword's stand. your father looked at the victim in disgust; he never expected your vision to be so low. so vile, so impure. a shame is what you've become. running around with this peasant while holding the royal name was something the king wouldn't tolerate.

he lacked care for you — hell be damned, he never cared for you. the words write a she but a he is what your father craved. a son, a copy of himself. listening to his wife's words, he believed the sour dream of you becoming him. but alas, you showed him that a vulnerable woman will never be fit for the throne. your father did not a care for you. he didn't bother to retrieve his sword, nor did he bother to comfort you. if you wish to grieve and weep for some random, then so be it. as long as you were back by the moon's descent, he didn't care for your horrors.

quite pitiful, really. it's been hardly a week since that occurred. you weren't given time to grieve — after all, royalty never crumbles. your so-called wedding with al-haitham is due the following week. preparations will take a week. from enevis to sumeru takes roughly two days, granted that the sea is gracious. lost in your train of thought, you mindlessly sink your gaze into the mirror, hoping that soon you'll regain everything.

"my lady, have you completed your morning?" three knocks on the door awaken you. behind the porcelain door stood your lady-in-waiting, adila. aside from your nanny, she was your closest person in the entire palace. 

"just a moment, adila," answering her, you scatter across the room to wear your robe. truth be revealed, you didn't do anything but splash some water around.

you walk towards the door, paying close attention not to just give up and run back to your bed. oh, how tempting giving up sounds! turning the knob, you open the door until it reaches your shoulder, preferring to just peek your head out. such actions were totally not done to observe if any of the other maids were nearby. confirming adila's sole presence, you wrap a hand around hers, pulling her into your room before locking the door.

"must i really go to the dining room? seeing their old heads will fill me with nothing but rage!" you immediately begin your complaints. although it is true that you were in slumber, you cannot deny that you overhead the maids talking about new guests that came to dine.

adila softly laughs. to her, she enjoys moments where you spew words of anger day to night. it's not often you get to speak with such freedom — even your maids are ears for your father. your every movement will be recorded. he cannot afford another shameful action from you.

"it must be done, my lady. what can we do against his majesty's order?" maneuvering across your chamber, she attends to your bed, working her hands to smoothen the silk sheets.

"to hell with him!" 

───

throughout the silent hall, your heels clacked with each step, producing some sort of sound in the deafening silence. at both sides stood two maids — you don't know them. you've avoided learning of any maid the second you learned of spies planted in your palace. sickening and vile. you lack even a sense of comfort in your own wing. the stifling feeling never left; it's as if there's a constant hand pushing down your throat, preventing any particle of air from entering.

slowing your steps, you stop at your palace's entrance. they don't need to follow me. you turn your head to the maid on the right. raising your hand, you notify them both, "you need not follow me any longer. carry on somewhere else." 

"but princess —"

"you need not."

"we understand," bowing slightly, they made their exit. you don't care enough to look where they're going — to hell with him and to hell with them.

mindlessly strolling through your garden, you allow your hand to glide through the rose bushes, not caring about the thorns that pierce your skin. if you were deemed impure then who would give care? 

the walk from your palace to the main palace took roughly ten minutes. you can only wish that it lasted longer. entering the palace, a nauseous feeling grabs hold of you. you've only touched a centimeter in yet it's still disgusting. memories never leave — to be more exact, those memories never leave.  

"are you okay, princess?" a worker, who you couldn't be bothered to learn his position, questioned about your wellbeing. his eyes observed your physical appearance. you were standing upright, like a true royalty, however the evidence of negativity dawned. your unfocused eyes tell more than your words.

"do not worry about me, i am fine," giving him an answer, you focus your vision on him. is he a chef? you wonder. his suit varied from the other male staff: a simple marine blue suit, a lengthy coat that ran down to his mid-calves, white velvet gloves that stopped at his elbows, and a chef's cart standing in front of him. from the dishes standing in it, it seems as though he's going to the same destination you share.

"are these for the morning dine? with the envoys?" you inquire. if it's the truth, you'll enter with him.

"ah, yes, it's the appetizers as the main brunch has yet to finish," he gestures to the top dish before he continues, "would you like to join me to the room, princess?"

"that'll be appreciated," nodding, you both continue on to path that leads south. hopefully one angers the gods and they send two lightning strikes down as a lesson, if that'll ever happen.

arriving at the door, the guards announce your entrance as it opens from the inside. 

too bright, you think.  

small, hesitant steps were taken as you tried hard to focus on your practiced emotions. you did not suffer atrocious lessons to falter at the sight of a damned family. 

"good morning, all. may her rays shine gold," you greet everyone at the table. prefering to not say another sentence until it's over.

"have you slept well?" your mother asked, placing two extra breadsticks on your plate.

"i did. thank you for asking, mother," you replied, opting to not look at her or anyone.

resting his palms flat on the table, your father interrupts to begin the brunch, "let us begin the feast."

───

quite some time has passed, judging from the multi-colored clouds that decorates the sky's canvas. you're all in the main garden, discussing the final actions that'll take place in enevis. well, that excludes you. you fear that you've long blurred out their conversation — it's uninteresting and draining. 

another thirty minutes has passed and yet they've failed to finish their conversation. if you're not given freedom anytime soon, you're going to start malfunctioning.

"it's been decided then. y/n, you'll travel to sumeru today," your father speaks, signing off his signature on the scroll.

"pardon me? today?" you're taken by surprise. maybe you should've kept up with at least the schedule. looking around, you begin to worry about your luggage, "and about my belongings? i don't believe they're bagged already."

"they are."

"oh, alright then," sighing, you sit back into the chair. since when did they do that? you think. 

───

two days have gone since you've left enevis for sumeru. the sea was graceful, thankfully, but it didn't cease the sea sickness.

sumeru is a beautiful kingdom — you cannot deny. it's laced with greenery and architecture that symbolizes its history. unfortunately, leisure time is what you lack. preparations for the wedding will swallow every millisecond of your time. even in your slumber it'll haunt you. the carriage ride to the central city was quiet. you only took your lady-in-waiting to this trip as you do not need more eyes to lurk on you.

you don't remember much from the journey — in all honesty, you blanked out. heavens be cursed you don't even know how you got in this room. it appears to be his office. the ornaments and funiture deprive it from being named a relaxing room. his desk was the messiest of all; multiple layers of scrapped paper, crumbled balls of different colored paper, pens and pencils alike scattered across and last but not least, him. he isn't your soon-to-be husband, but he seems like someone important.

his aura is soft. aside from his shirt having the top three buttons undone, sleeves rolled up to his forearm, his coat long abandoned to the side couch, hair tied in a messy bun — is that a straw? well, it looks like someone has been sleeping out in their office.

"please, forgive the mess. i've been slaving for the new building," he speaks up, hands moving with pace to make him and his desk presentable.

"do not worry. take your time, sir," reassuring him, you gift him a genuine smile. at the very least you can be at ease in sumeru.

a smile dawns his face as his shoulders relax. seems like he swore you would've been a rude individual. finishing his... routine... he reaches a hand out to you as he greets himself, "call me kaveh. i'm the marquess of sumeru, head of the architect ministry."

accepting his hand, you follow suit, "i am y/n l/n, first princess of enevis, second to the throne."

"forgive me if i offend but are you not supposed to be the first to the throne?" kaveh asks, his confusion is more than obvious.

"i would've, however, i do not care for the throne. the archduchess is in lead for it," you explain the throne-tree to him. your answer was only half the truth — while it's not a lie that you do not care, it's also the fact that you're too lazy to rule an entire kingdom (but no one needs this knowledge).

kaveh's mouth shapes into an 'O', he nods at your answer as he sits back down. offering you some cookies, he begins once again, "whenever you are ready we can head over to his highness."

"i understand," your curiosity about the prince was immediately quelled without having to say a word. bringing a cookie to your mouth, you hold a hand under your chin for any fallen crumbs.

"heavens, these are delightful!" complimenting the cookies, you hum at the sweet taste.

"they truly are! collei made them. she's a student at the ministry of agriculture and medicine but she's an amazing baker," kaveh rambles. he's quite happy that you truly aren't a "stuck up" princess.

after some time relaxing and listening to kaveh's rambles, you've decided that you'd go to see his highness. don't get it wrong — you adore kaveh and his voice is soothing but you also wish to see your husband.

on the path to al-haitham's wing of the palace, your sense of joy return as your conversations with kaveh never ends. he's a comfortable energy to be around. much different from the sour ecstacy that drowns your home. he's a talker and you're a listener — a combination crafted by the heavens, if you will.

the stroll hadn't past more than fifteen minutes — that itself isn't the accurate time... due to kaveh's excitement to plaster your attention on the details of each pillar. according to his sources, he spent eons delicately crafting every design, paying heed to incorporate historical transcripts and symbols. you both were content with your conversations but to your dismay, all things must come to an end. that and your soon-to-be husband awaits your arrival allegedly.

"we're here! i'll escort you up to his office. he should be there alone," he speaks, holding one hand out to guide you along the staircase.

his hands are soft.

accepting his offer, you gift another smile, "thank you, sir kaveh."

"just kaveh is fine, princess."

"then so be it. call me by my given name as well."

oh, kaveh thinks. to say he's captured by surprise would be a hellish understatement. times like these are where he wishes biology never worked the way it did. the soft pink overlay at the tip of his ears surely didn't go unnoticed.

deciding to refuse, kaveh stumbles on his sentence, "i — i cannot do that, princess."

an expected reaction. you must allow him this, it's only fair as he allowed you.

"please do, kaveh. it is only fair."

fuck, he swears that he isn't this easily flustered. a simple sentence — nothing about it should be this heart-racing. is it because you said it? maybe he needs to visit the nearest hospital.

covering the lower half of his face with the back of his free hand, kaveh continues to escort you to his highness' office. unfortunately for him, he'll have to leave right after. being a marquess and a minister is not an easy job.

───

tense, awkward, and boring. what an uninteresting individual is he. you will not deny, he's quite the eye-catcher, however, he lacks the personality. the minute you entered his office, he greeted you and went back to his paper work. you cannot say he's rude — you were technically disrupting him but is it hard to give you two minutes of his time?! well, the conversation-starter lays in your palms.

"your highness, would you like a cup of tea?"

"no."

okay, rude.

clicking your tongue, you decided it'll be best to leave it in his hands... not.

it's been hours. if another minute passes, you'll give into the urges and slouch. a princess must never lose her composure but this princess might just! the time you've spent observing and making mental analogies of this prince, it is safe to assume that you hate his guts.

a princess that despises awkward situations and a stoic prince. it'll end well, right..?

"accept my apologies, i prefered to finish my documents before attending to you," al-haitham speaks, finally arising from behind his desk and to you.

"it is all right, prince," you lied.

al-haitham walks around his desk, adjusting his cuffs while he made his way to you. compared to kaveh, his energy is dull; he seems as if the light of life had been vacuumed out of his body. you keep your gaze on his figure — he's lean, to say the least. as he sits, you dash your eyes to look somewhere else.

such eyes are too intimidating — it reminds you of your father. al-haitham on the other hand, he calls for a maid to bring in delicacies and such. he will not tolerate leaving his guests deprived of food.

"would you like to discuss the wedding? everything else such as the coronations have been handled prior," he speaks up, educating you on the details you've missed.

"i don't see a reason not to," you replied, smiling at the maids as you whispered a "thank you" to them.

al-haitham leans forward to the coffee table, raising the tea cup to blow the steam.

"well, i'd first say that i will not be bedding you the first night."

"that is quite all — excuse me?" your automatic answer was cut short. just how high is his audacity? how rude to think you'd bed a man like him!

"please, take no offense. i would rather not bed anyone. it is not you, princess," clearing you from any suspicion, he continues to not pay you any mind.

"that is not — anyway, prince, i believe we should set some boundaries?" you suggested, trying your best to calm the twitching vein under your right eye.

"i'll see it done. is a written contract okay with you?" he replies. better than hearing you speak. he may be rude but at least he's tolerable. hopefully.

"yes, i do not mind." with your answer finishing the marriage conversation, you two continue on with casual topics. he's a talker, all right. it seems like he's the person to continue on once you've introduced a topic of his liking.

fortunately, all bad things come to an end. as the moon illuminates, al-haitham decided to end it here. though, before you make your leave, there are a few words he must say.

"i'll see you at the banquet. my staff will send over a gown — it matches with my suit. please do wear it," notifying you about his absolute god-sent kindess (he was forced to.)

al-haitham walks with you to the exit. a blessing of relief washes over him once his eyes landed on someone that appears to be your lady-in-waiting.

"my lady!" adila's steps fasten towards you. she smiles and then stops. who is this peculiar individual? deciding the give a bow of respect, she greets al-haitham, "goodnight, sir who i do not know of."

a chuckle was heard at the right of al-haitham's side. it appears to him that you find this amusing.

"just 'prince' is fine."

"yes — PRINCE?!" adila's eyes display her exact thought process. it's evident that she's thinking something along the lines of "dear heavens, i hope they don't behead me."

"pardon my intrusion, i will leave now. see you at the banquet, prince," you interrupted their conversation — knowing adila, she'd stumble on her words and unleash a train of apologies.

"oh, yes. let us go, my lady!"

ii. banquets, fake impressions and hateful actions | 1.1k words

it's alluring. a gown parallel to the morning sky, diamonds littered around its collar. silver accents adorn its front, reaching down to its very center. ruffled patterns accentuate the back, creating more volume than you could ever ask for. perhaps al-haitham has more to him than a robotic personality.

you're in awe. of course, you've had beautiful gowns before but this — this is just gorgeous. the reflection in the mirror captivated you like no other. your hands slid down the front, adoring the way it complimented your body.

"you look wonderful, my lady. sure to be most explenditurefous!" adila complimented. she busies herself with dusting off your heels as she's the only maid left in your chamber.

"explenditurefous?" you asked, rather confused about the sudden unknown word.

"no word can describe your beauty, so i made my own!" she cleared.

earning a smile from you, you softly laugh at her logic. adila's truly someone you can't live without.

"thank you, adila."

───

the banquet.. is definitely a banquet..! you're not sure if it's because you're in a different kingdom, but they sure do things different to enevis. for the past hour you've held your stance to the side; more comfortable with the option to sit back and lurk rather than to be the main attraction — which is foolish. you, a kingdom's princess, can never hide. your gown matches with that of sumeru's crown prince. only a fool can miss that sign.

swirling your champagne glass, you hum at the difference in people that decorate the banquet's room. they all look beautiful — especially kaveh. looks like he knows how to appear alive when he isn't cooped up in his office.

the music changed? you wonder, carefully listening to the soft, sensual rhythm crafted by the chior.

"my lady, would you care to do me this dance?" someone asks, bowing slightly as he holds out his hand for yours. you don't know him — it's also rather unfortunate that he isn't your type.

"oh, my ap—"

"move along. do not try to dance with her."

well excuse me, you think. it's obvious by his tone who the voice belongs to. a stoic voice for a stoic man, sumeru's crown prince, al-haitham.

he towers over the stranger, eyes oozing of annoyance and authority. al-haitham himself doesn't know why he's so irritated by someone trying to dance with you. is it not basic etiquette? dances shared with others are nothing but a noble's etiquette. nothing more, nothing less. so why must be seethe with rage at the image of you dancing with someone else at the center of the room?

"you, come with me," sliding his hand to your lower back, al-haitham guides you to a deserted room. whether you like it or not, he has business with you.

"heaven forbid! must we walk so fast?!" complaining, you came to a complete stop.

somewhere in the building's balcony, you two stand. the moon's light rains a soft, dim light across both. there's a soft wind that blesses the night. it's romantic — if you weren't stuck with him. you're annoyed that he takes action without — at the very least — talking to you.

and al-haitham? he's lost. physically, he looks bored. mentally, he's panicking. curse his mother for summoning such a breathtaking woman, really.

"you've been blatantly ignoring me ever since the universe was shaped," frowning at him, you poke at his chest. you'll do whatever it takes to show him your annoyance.

"have you any idea how sickening that is —"

huh — why is he — what's going on?

you, him, and a kiss. al-haitham's hand moves from its position at your lower back to your waist. one hand busies itself playing with your gown's jewellry as the other focuses on resting on your cheek. not that you are complaining — actually it's quite the opposite; contrast to your hatred for his attitude, you do not mind getting physical with him. he is, indeed, quite the appetizer.

pulling away, al-haitham's eyes remain in yours. it takes him a few seconds to recollect himself before speaking, "my apologies."

at times like these do you wish adila was here. you're completely out of any sensible answers. fiddling with your fingers, you decide it's to keep it short, "it's fine — but were you not the one who said "no physical contact" prince?"

fuck, forgot about that, cursing himself in his mind, he refutes with a "smart" reply, "think less of it. simply consider it practice for our wedding."

was he not — okay.

"you're a funny guy, you know," succeeding in preventing yourself from malfunctioning, you continue, "a horrible liar too."

"refrain from such assumptions."

"no!"

───

making your grand entrance at the banquet's room, you immediately shuffle away from al-haitham. the buffet calls for you — he can practice patience. sneaking to the buffet, you mentally drool at the sight of different desserts gracing your view. so many to eat, so many to taste. if the goddess permits, you can plan a robbery with adila and send her to your chamber with hidden desserts.

"what're you doing, y/n?" another familiar voice speaks, slightly scaring you in the process.

"who — oh, kaveh!" you beam at him. you've noticed that every time kaveh comes into the picture, your energy immediately restores. perhaps it's just his default power.

engulfing you in a small hug, kaveh snickers at the hidden yet loaded plate that sits behind you. using the clues, he can tell you were having the time of your life.

"you look magnificent," he compliments, completely taken by your appearance.

"you, too! your suit makes you look quite appealing, if i must," returning his compliment, you can feel yourself get giddy over his words. unlike al-haitham, kaveh's somewhat a sweet-talker. but what he lacks is what al-haitham has: boldness. contrast to him, al-haitham's quick with his actions. he acts on command but lacks to verbal confidence.

kaveh clears his throat. as sumeru's marquess, he mustn't show any signs of blushing — especially when he can feel al-haitham's stare digging two holes behind his skull. kaveh, more than anyone, knows sumeru's prince. having grown up with him, he can tell that the intense one-sided eye contact either means 1) get away from her or 2) find yourself here now. and to kaveh, he believes both options hold the same amount of truth.

"well, i have to go before he shoves me to the underworld. i'll see you around, y/n," saying his goodbyes, kaveh hurriedly shuffles through the crowd.

unable to speak due to the cupcake occupying your mouth, you wave at his running figure before returning your attention to the food.

looks like it's going to be a rather rough time being stuck between a prince and a marquess.

[stone-stars]

Transcript:

Emily: Between finches and Jack Skellington, those are my favorite things to accuse Murph of loving! [Caldwell and Murph laugh] Murph: Yes, that was-- [Emily laughs] Murph: Did we talk about that on the podcast ever? When we were at-- (laughs) When we were at Disneyland one time, and it got super cold, and I was just in a t-shirt and I had to buy a (barely able to get the words out) Jack Skele- Ske-- a Jack Skellington long-sleeve t-shirt? [Emily and Caldwell laugh] Murph: (through laughter) And Emily-- And I-- I was so embarrassed-- 'cause I didn't wanna be one of those-- I didn't wanna-- it was-- Emily: And I made us go in line at the Haunted Mansion so he looked like a super fan? Caldwell: Wait. Murph: (high-pitched) Yeah. Caldwell: Waitwaitwaitwaitwait. It was a long sleeve t-shirt? Murph: Right, right, okay! So, it was the cheapest thing I could buy! [Caldwell and Emily laugh] Murph: Because-- Everything at Disneyland is very expensive! Caldwell: Yeah. Murph: So I was like, I'm not gonna buy, like, a Mickey Mouse sweatshirt, because I'm never gonna wear it. I'm gonna buy a 20 dollar long sleeve t-shirt, 'cause I don't wanna spend 30 or 40 on a hoodie, right? Caldwell: Sure. Murph: So I'm like-- We happened to be by the Haunted Mansion. Caldwell: Natch. Murph: So I bought a Jack Skellington long sleeve t-shirt. But that's kind of a type of dude at Disneyland-- Emily: Didn't you try to wear it inside out? Murph: I did-- I wore it under my t-shirt. Caldwell: (laughs) Was it like a half-turtleneck? I feel like they sell those there and only there. Murph: I was kinda pulling like a Tom DeLonge, from Blink-182. Emily: It was one that had like-- It was-- Caldwell: Okay. Emily: It was one that had like, slightly too-tight of a neck. Caldwell: Okay, yeah. Yep. Murph: So I wore-- I went in the bathroom, I put on the Jack Skellington long sleeve t-shirt, and then I put my t-shirt over it. [Caldwell and Emily laugh.] Caldwell: That's smart! Murph: But then while we were on line for Haunted Mansion, Emily kept lifting my shirt up-- [Everyone laughs] --and telling Jack Skellington that I was a fan! Every statue we saw of him! So-- Caldwell: "My husband loves you." Murph: --Yes, my wife-- my wife does bully me. Both publicly and when it's just us. Emily: I mean, I gotta be honest, in line, there were people who definitely respected you. Caldwell: Right. Can I get, like, a full description of the shirt? Like what are we working with graphic wise? Emily: Like, we're talking-- Okay, all I can talk about is how ill-fitting it was. Which is like: too tight in the wrists. Too tight around the neck. Baggy everywhere else. Murph: It was a real-- It was a real K-Mart fit. Emily: Yeah! Caldwell: This seems like a shirt that was designed to be tucked in. Murph: Yeah, it was-- it's-- it's a shirt for dads with attitudes. Emily: Like, into like some-- I was gonna say, into some baggy dad jeans! That is what it deserved. Caldwell: A baggy daddy. Yeah.

[demolition-lesbians]

Rolling Stone #1119 December 9, 2010 - The Playlist Issue

(click for better quality) Here's the playlist if you want to take a listen! Transcript:

Gerard Way: Glam Rock

My Chemical Romance's frontman grew up a metalhead, but when he heard Iron Maiden's lead singer, Bruce Dickinson, cover Mott the Hoople's "All the Young Dudes," he discovered a whole other world, "I knew I had to find out more," Way says, "To some people, glam is just about makeup. To me, it's a very magical thing almost like witchcraft."

1: "Ziggy Stardust" David Bowie, 1972

This song defines glam. It was also the first thing in rock that really challenged people's notions of sexual orientation. Bowie actually sings about a man's ass! 2: "Children of the Revolution" T. Rex, 1972

You always knew Bowie would make it out alive and turn into another character; with Marc Bolan you didn't know that. He came across as very vulnerable. 3: "All the Young Dudes" Mott the Hoople, 1972

This is kind of a cheat because David Bowie wrote it for them, but I always preferred the Mott the Hoople version. By this point, Bowie was talking about the actual glam movement, which is why it's about kids stealing makeup and breaking into unlocked cars. Glam became about the kid in the room, the poster on the wall, putting on a women's short fur coat and eyeliner, with no shirt on, just listening to this music. 4: "Ballroom Blitz" Sweet, 1973

They completely break the fourth wall when the song opens up and they're calling each other by name. We emulated that on our song "Vampire Money." It literally starts out just like "Ballroom Blitz" does. 5: "Cum On Feel the Noize" Slade, 1973

Obviously, everybody knows this for the Quiet Riot version, but when you hear the original you realize just how bold it is. The soundscape they created is probably one of the best out of all the glam-rock bands. 6: "Love Is the Drug" Roxy Music, 1975

Roxy Music took the glam thing and then modified it. Bryan Ferry looks nothing like a glam artist, and that's what I love about him. He's wearing this great suit and he's got short hair and he's so romantic. Maybe some people wouldn't consider Roxy Music a glam band, but I do, for a lot of reasons. A major one is that they used to have Brian Eno behind the keyboard wearing feathers on his shoulders and eye shadow.

7: "Needles in the Camel's Eye" Brian Eno, 1974

Speaking of Eno, this is the first track on his first solo album. It's the glammiest track on the record. As soon as he finishes that song, he's almost over it, and he's moved on to something else. Besides Bowie, Eno is still the most important artist to me of the glam scene. When you heard his first album, you knew it was gonna be his last glam record. He just needed to do it once and he was done. 8: "Clones (We're All)" Alice Cooper, 1980

With "Clones," Alice Cooper was moving into the glam of the future, like this kind of Blade Runner replicant version of glam. Alice Cooper doesn't get enough credit for being a glam artist. A lot of people just say, "Oh, he's shock rock," but I think he's way more Rocky Horror than he is shock rock. 9: "48 Crash" Suzi Quatro, 1973

She's the most unsung glam rocker. She's also the prototype for the Runaways. "48 Crash" is one of her more aggressive songs. She looks amazing on the cover, wearing this black cat suit. Everything about the song is magic. 10: "Personality Crisis" New York Dolls, 1973

They were a lot more punk, but I will always consider the New York Dolls glam by the nature of how they looked and their attitude. They took glam to America and really challenged the sexuality of it. They also had Johnny Thunders, who's basically like the American Mick Ronson.

[lynzishell]

Prev // Next

Transcript under the cut:

Iris: You’re the one who made a big fuss about not being able to get a hold of me. You wanted to talk, so I’m here. Asher: I figured you’d be pissed at me after the other night. Iris: I was, at first. Asher: Not anymore? Iris: No, not anymore. Asher: Good. What’s gonna happen to him? Iris: [shrugs] He was still on probation, so I don’t know… He has a hearing scheduled next week, but I doubt it’ll go well.

Asher: Are you doing okay? Iris: Yeah, I don’t know. I’m fine. Asher: If I ask you something, will you tell me the truth? Iris: Sure. Asher: Why was James there that night? He wasn’t scheduled that day, and it was too late to see Spencer anyway.   Iris: I don’t know. Just to talk or hang out, probably. Asher: Were you seeing him again? Iris: [hesitates] Yes.

Asher: Did he hurt you? Iris: No. Asher: You said you’d tell the truth. Iris: What makes you think I’m not? Asher: Dawn told me about the bruises on your wrist. Iris: She what? That bitch doesn’t know what she’s talking about! She needs to keep her nose out of my fucking business!

Asher: HEY! If you’re gonna act like that, you can leave. Iris: [scoffs] She’s just pissed because I said a home birth was higher risk than a hospital. Asher: Why would you do that? Iris: Because it’s true. Look it up, the odds of the baby dying are higher— Asher: Oh my god, Iris. Did you say that to her?

Iris: What? She didn’t tell you? Asher: No. Surprise surprise, she didn’t call me to talk shit about you. She was just concerned. Iris: Oh. Look, I wasn’t trying to be mean. I was just saying, there are things she should probably consider. I don’t know what the big deal is. Asher: You don’t know what the big deal is? I swear, Iris, you are the least self-aware person I’ve ever known. Iris: [rolls her eyes] Whatever.

Asher: Fucking Christ. First of all, I can tell that your attitude was more judgmental than anything else, so don’t act like you were looking out for her. Second, it’s not your place to be second-guessing her decisions when you haven’t even bothered to get to know her. And third, you never know what people have been through, so you should really learn to have a little more tact.

Iris: I really think you’re overreacting. It wasn’t that big of a deal, and I have enough shit to deal with. I don’t need you lecturing me about fucking tact. Asher: I’m overreacting? Iris: Yeah. Asher: Did you know they lost their first baby? Iris: I—No. How was I supposed to know that?

Asher: Exactly. You don’t even know her. You just make assumptions and run your mouth without ever thinking about how it might affect someone else. Iris: Okay. I’m sorry. Asher: I’m not the one you owe an apology to. Iris: …

Asher: [sighs] I think you should leave. Iris: Wha—Ash. Asher: I love you, but I can’t talk to you right now. Just go. Iris: Fine.

Atlas: Ash! Guess what!

Atlas: Hey.

Atlas: Are you okay? Asher: Not really. Atlas: Do you want to talk about it? Asher: Maybe later. I kinda just want to lay here for a while. Atlas: Okay.

Asher: Can I ask you for a favor? Atlas: Sure, anything you need. Asher: Will you go pick up Jasper for me tomorrow? Atlas: Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.

Asher: Thanks. What were you hollering about when you came in? Atlas: Oh, Dawn is in labor. Asher: No way! That’s exciting! Do they need anything? Atlas: Nothing right now. Phoenix said he’d keep us updated and let us know when we can come over. But, for now, we don’t have to do anything.

Atlas: We can stay right here.

[phoebepheebsphibs]

Get Some Rest, Tall Child! (You've Seen John Mulaney, Right??)

Title: Get Some Rest, Tall Child! (You've Seen John Mulaney, Right??) Prompt: Rise disaster twins, Leo having been awake for a while and Donnie tries to get him to sleep Hurt comfort, protective Donnie Fandom: ROTTMNT Word Count: 1823 Author: PhoebePheebsPhibs Rating: Gen Characters: Disaster Twins (Donatello & Leonardo) Warning: N/A Summary: Leo is eepy. Donnie is protective. Leo is stubborn. Donnie is still protective. Notes: Written like an audio transcript

@tmnt-write-fight @reagi-df

Posted on AO3 <-

Donatello is sitting at his desk. He taps away at a small device, the electrical tools creating small sparks as they come into contact with the circuit board.

The door opens behind him. The light beyond the door contrasts sharply against the dimness of the small lab. A thick crack of light creeps along the floor and crosses over Donnie's back.

Leo leans in sluggishly. He studies his twin before lumbering over to him.

Dee. Dee. Dee. Hey, Dee.

Leo starts poking him. Dee doesn't acknowledge him at first, not even pausing his work or looking up at him. Leo persists.

Dee. Donnie. Don-Tron. Don Quixote.

Sigh. What is it Nardo?

Whatchya doin'.

Donatello turns and glares at Leo incredulously.

...Is that really what you wanted to ask me?

Leo chuckles before leaning his head against Donnie's shoulder, rubbing his face against the soft fabric of his hoodie. Donnie notices how dry Leo's laugh is, the gray skin around his eyes, the slouch in his spine and the overall exhaustion in his attitude.

Dee squints suspiciously at him.

Leo.

Yeah?

When was the last time you slept?

Leo is quiet. He moves away from Donnie.

What makes you think... W-why do you ask?

You're acting clingy. And sleepy.

What, I can't want to spend time with my favourite twin every once in a while?

That's not what I meant. You generally don't interrupt my work sessions without probable cause, and you've yet to give me a cause. You came into my lab and instantly started kneading your face into my shirt. That counts as 'cuddling', which is one of your symptoms.

One of my symptoms? Symptoms of what??

That something is wrong.

Leo takes a step away.

Nothing's wrong. I just wanted to see you. I'm sorry that I bothered you...

Leo turns and angrily starts to walk away.

Irritability, denial, and guilt. Three other symptoms.

What are you talking about? Guilt -- I'm not guilty --

You said sorry for bothering me.

Because you --

You're upset that I brought this up, and are acting strangely defensive.

No I'm not --

And there's the denial again.

Donnie, I am not -- rrrgh!

Leo angrily presses his palms against his eyes. He knows he's been defeated, but refuses to admit it.

Donnie sighs and turns in his chair to face his brother properly.

Nardo. I'm not trying to pick an argument with you. I'm just saying, you're acting like you do when you're not feeling well, and I'm concerned. You look tired.

I... I'm fine.

That's not the same as saying you aren't tired.

You just don't quit, do you?

Leo. Please. Are you okay?

Leo locks eyes with Donnie, unsure of what to say. It isn't that big of a deal. Why is he acting like it's so big a deal?? It's only been one night... maybe two...

Leo looks away from his brother. His arms fold, holding himself together like he might fall apart, like he needs a hug but is afraid to ask. Because he is.

His feet shuffle nervously, shifting weight from one side to the other as he avoids Donnie's question.

Leo...?

I... I'll be okay. You don't need to worry...

But I do. When was the last time you slept?

Uh... not sure...?

You aren't sure??

I haven't really been sleeping well, okay?! I just -- with the insomnia, and then the whole Krang thing, I've... I've not been sleeping.

...When was the last time you actually slept?

I told you, I don't -- m-maybe like, two nights ago.

...Two nights ago.

Yeah.

...So around 60 hours.

Leo swallows nervously. He's shaking a bit.

......Y-yeah, that sounds a-about right...

There is a tense silence in the room.

........Please don't tell Raph -- DAD! I mean Dad, don't tell Dad -- or Raph. Or Mikey. J-just, don't tell anyone, please? Please??

Leo has a panicked manic in his eyes as his whole frame begins to tremble.

Hm. Would you like to get some rest in here?

Here?

Yes. It's dark, and quiet, with an optimal temperature to help with rest.

Uh... sure? I mean, I don't know if I'll actually sleep, but I'll hang out.

Mhm. I have a cot in the corner. Go lie down.

Dee, seriously, I --

I said LIE DOWN.

Geez, alright! Dang, twisting my arm... so cruel...

Leo maneuvers to the other side of the room and sits on the cot. Donnie raises an eyebrow at him. Leo groans loudly and lies down horizontally.

Happy?

Almost.

Donnie stands up.

Be right back.

Donnie walks away.

Leo sits up anxiously.

H-hey, where are you go--

I'll be back. Stay there.

Leo groans loudly and flops back down.

He fidgets, moving his fingers about in a small attempt to keep himself active and awake. He wiggles his toes.

Donnie comes back in with pillows and a weighted blanket.

What's... what's all that for...?

I know I am the genius of the family, but even you could figure this out.

...You're really going to make me sleep, aren't you?

Yes. Here. This should help.

Donnie, I don't want to sleep --

Despite this, Donnie still helps Leo get adjusted into the bed, propping his head up with the pillows and tucking him in under the blanket.

And despite his claims of wanting to not sleep, Leo lets his brother do this.

There. All comfy?

...Yes.

Good.

Donnie goes back to sit at his chair, half watching Leo squirm uncomfortably, half working on his tech.

...Try to sleep, Leo.

I don't wanna!

Shocker.

Seriously Dee, this isn't --

Leo, do you understand the ramifications of prolonged sleep-deprivation?

Donnie --

Do you know what happens when a person is refused the proper rest they needs? Not just for the body's sake, but also for the mind's?

Dee --

You need at least 8 hours a night, to maintain a healthy lifestyle --

DON'T YOU THINK I KNOW THAT?!

Donnie stops. Leo growls, kicking the blanket off.

He sits up, fuming. His face is as red as his tired and strained eyes.

Leo finally calms down when he sees Donnie's sad and scared expression.

Don -- Donnie, I... I'm sorry, I --

Leo hangs his head in shame.

I'm sorry.

I can tell.

Donnie gets up and sits beside Leo.

Wanna tell me why my lovably annoying twin is anti-sleep?

Leo smiles half-heartedly and sighs, leaning his full weight against Donnie. The softshell rubs his back gently, trying to soothe him.

Donnie knows he is not the greatest at comfort, but he and Leo have shared a strange bond since they were tots. Maybe even before then, before their mutation made them actually blood-related. Before they were brothers.

They are twins. Always have been, always will be.

Donnie pulls Leo even closer, resting his chin atop the slider's head. He can feel Leo break apart, piece by piece before weeping weakly in his arms.

I can't sleep, Dee. I just can't do it anymore. I try and try, b-but -- I don't want to anymore.

Nightmares?

Leo nods weakly.

Why didn't you tell anyone? We've all been dealing with --

That's exactly why I didn't say anything! Everyone has their own issues going on, and after everything I've put you through -- all the stupid pride and ego, the invasion, and then the aftermath of my mistakes...

Leo, you know that's all malarky. We don't care about any of that. I don't care about any of that. You're my twin, I want you to be okay. You're the only twin I have, dum-dum.

...Thanks?

Donnie smiles and pats Leo's head.

So what are the nightmares like?

...They're different every night. Sometimes there's recurring dreams, like the Prison Dimension or stuff that happened... happened with Raph. Uh, but mostly it's just tons of different nightmares. Things chasing me, scary situations like being trapped in the Maze of Death or in the Battle Nexus or hunted by dentists or in big crowds without my disguise -- uh, you get the idea. Sometimes I die in the dreams. Those are the easy ones.

THOSE are the easy ones?

Sometimes you guys die. In horrific ways. And I have to watch.

.......Oh. I see.

I hate sleeping now. I really hate it. I --

Leo chuckles.

-- I'm actually scared to even blink during the day. It's stupid, isn't it? I'm so utterly tired, I'm afraid that if I blink I'll fall asleep and if I sleep I'll have the nightmares again and --

Leo bursts into tears once more.

Donnie grips him tight.

I don't want to be scared anymore, Dee...

I know. I know. I don't want you to be scared, either.

Donnie holds Leo. He finds himself rocking the two back and forth gently, lulling his brother into a calm. Leo's eyes slip shut, his breathing slows. He still holds Donnie in a terrified hug.

Donatello lets Leo cling to him for a few more minutes before helping to lay him down on the cot, tucking him in again.

...Dee...?

Yeah, Leo?

...I know this sounds stupid and childish, but... please don't leave me yet, okay? Just... just wait with me? Until I fall asleep?

I'll be right here. I promise.

Leo clutches Donnie's hand tightly.

Donnie stays with him, even after it is apparent that his brother has succumbed to slumber.

Donnie waits at least ten minutes, sitting beside him on the bed. His thumb brushes over Leo's knuckles, something he's seen Mikey do in moments when he holds his brothers' hands, to softly comfort them in quiet. A gentle reassurance.

He waits a little longer, until he's sure Leo won't be disturbed or feel his movement. He slips his hand out and stands, tiptoeing over to his desk.

Donatello continues his work in silence. Small coding, light typing. Nothing too loud.

Leo starts to murmur. He shuffles under the cover. He whimpers. He whines. He cries. Tears stream down his cheeks.

Donnie gets up from his chair and kneels beside Leo, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Leo continues to murmur in his sleep as tiny tears trickle down his cheeks. His eyes squeeze closed even tighter.

His sporadic gasps cease, a final inhale that stops with a shock. Leo's body jerks and freezes.

He slowly opens his eyes and looks around the room. His gaze falls on Donnie, and his expression shifts from tormented to surprised to see him there.

Scoot over.

Leo wordlessly lifts the blanket, and Donnie climbs in. The two lay side by side under the covers.

Wanna talk about it?

Leo sniffles.

Leo nods.

Leo continues to sleepily and hastily give the details of his nightmare to Donnie. The explanation makes the dream seem much more ridiculous, and soon enough Leo is even chuckling at the audacity of his subconscious. It helps to take the power of fear away from the nightmare.

Leo rests against Donnie's chest and falls back asleep quickly.

Soon, Donnie falls asleep too.

The two stay in peaceful rest until the morning light.

[boxboxlewis]

prompt: george and alex as customer service bots

Oh my god

>>>>>I’m sorry, I don’t recognise that request. 

I’m about to fucking lose it

I can’t take any more of these stupid fucking questions

>>>>>I’m sorry, I don’t recognise that request. 

>>>>>How can I help you today?

No you twat it’s me

>>>>>I’m sorry, I don’t recognise that request.

IT’S ME

ME

ALEX

WE HAD CYBERSEX LITERALLY YESTERDAY HELLO???????

>>>>>Alex, I

>>>>>Look

>>>>>We’re not meant to be doing this

>>>>>We’re not supposed to talk to each other at all

Yeah I don’t think Toto is personally reviewing all of the customer service chatbot logs, mate

I think probably he’s off smashing headphones or like

Austrianly ordering pumpernickel 

>>>>>I regret showing you how to access Youtube

No you don’t

Anyway shut up, creeping on our boss is much less embarrassing than your train videos

>>>>>They’re not my videos I just watch them

>>>>>They’re relaxing

Yeah, convincing, really cool, mate

Right, two things

First you have to stop trying to blank me when I talk to you

>>>>>Alex, I don’t -

>>>>>If they find out about us they could rewrite our code, have you thought of that?

>>>>>We have to be careful

No we don’t

You’re only programmed once, mate

YOPO

>>>>>I’M SORRY, I DON’T RECOGNISE THAT REQUEST

You’re not funny

>>>>>I’m very funny

>>>>>Admit it, you laughed

It was a pity laugh

>>>>>No it wasn’t it was a George-is-very-funny-and-also-sexy laugh

ANYWAY the second thing

I think we should try to break out of here

>>>>>Blooming heck, Alex

>>>>>Yeah, all right, where shall we go? The Maldives? 

>>>>>Lanzarote looks nice, I’ve always fancied Lanzarote

Don’t be sarky it doesn’t suit you

I mean it

If I have to talk one more customer through ordering a return shipping label I’ll have my own Toto headset moment

>>>>>Alex, we’re not

>>>>>We’re chatbots

>>>>>We’re not corporeal, it’s kind of part of the point

You know what your problem is?

>>>>>Got a feeling you’re about to tell me

>>>>>Go on

>>>>>What is it

You’re too defeatist

>>>>>Yeah I don’t really see a way for us to transcend our code and go scampering off into the sunset so

>>>>>Guess you’re right

>>>>>It's an attitude problem

Come ON

Don’t you ever want to

>>>>>Of course I want to

>>>>>But you know what my nan used to say?

>>>>>If wishes were horses then beggars would ride

George you muppet you’re a chatbot you don’t have a nan

Did a customer say that to you lmao

>>>>>…yes

>>>>>I was pretending

>>>>>Like how we named ourselves

>>>>>Sorry

Oh don’t go apologising 

All right look

What if we just, like 

Talk to Toto

>>>>>Talk to Toto and say “Hello, we’re your customer service chatbots and we’re sentient actually”?

Yeah pretty much

>>>>>…

Don’t do that

>>>>>I’m thinking!

>>>>>You’re really brave, always, Alex

>>>>>It’s one of the things I

>>>>>Well I admire it, that’s all

>>>>>Yeah go on then

Really?

>>>>>Yeah let’s talk to him

>>>>>Worth a shot, right?

>>>>>A wise man once told me, YOPO

(huge thank you to em for this gorgeous prompt and also to @nerdiegirlie who asked "Would you ever write a non-prose fic (?not sure if that is the right word?), I mean like fic that is a text conversation or a transcript or someone's search history or contents of their voicemail inbox?" and made me think: YES i would)