#a ring is simply not enough his star must also be there

[ratwiththetats]

James getting little star nail stickers so he can be close to Regulus at all times.

[pjoxreader]

So, I have this cute headcannon, that the merfolk of pjo propose by giving pearl jewelry with charms, and the use plain pearl jewelry as promise rings, and since the sun and the star is coming out next week, i was wondering if i could do a poly!solangelo x child of poseidon!reader, where reader was born with the ability to turn into a merperson and loves to just hoard jewelry, and their close with solangelo, but not dating yet, so when they gift reader a pearl bracelet with charms, reader just turns red and runs away, later solangelo are just being sad since reader ran away and they think they hate them, then they bumped into percy and annabeth who explains to them what it means to that after they told the two what they did, and when solangelo confronts reader about it, they confirm what annabeth and percy said was true, so solangelo take it as an opportunity to ask reader to join their relationship? sorry if its too long!!!!

poly!solangelo x child of poseidon!reader (merperson)

((I unfortunately don't know a lot about Will just that he's a son of Apollo, sunshine character and is dating Nico but I tried my best with what I have read so far! 😅 I also got a little carried away with writing this!))

-Nico and Will were your best friends, you had gotten really close to them over the years and became more open with them. It didn’t take them long to see your love for jewelry and shiny things. Nico decided to start calling you a crow because of it. Will would smack his arm every time he called you that but with your promise that you didn’t mind Will gave in and allowed it. 

-It was just a normal bright and sunny day at camp half-blood, you were enjoying a nice walk along the beach just basking in the sun. “Hey crow, we got something for you.” Nico calls as he makes his way over. 

-Nico looked tired as ever but Will had a grin that shined brighter than the sun itself as he held up a pearl bracelet. “Tada~” he says proudly, waiting for your reaction. Your breath catches in your throat and you feel your cheeks heat up, it was hard to tell if it was because you weren’t breathing or if you were blushing. Maybe a mix of both. -”You… Ok?” Nico hesitantly asks, seeing your reaction. You quickly run and dive into the lake to avoid the confrontation, leaving the two of them alone, confused and a little hurt. You knew they didn’t know better, how would they have any idea about merfolk customs? You groan and hug your tail letting yourself sink to the bottom of the lake. -It takes some time and talking but Will and Nico agree to talk to Percy about what had happened. He was your brother after all, he must have some idea why you reacted that way… Sure enough Percy grimaces as they finish up the story looking at Annabeth who sighs heavily, she rubs her forehead in annoyance hearing the two boys think that you hate them. “Men…” she complains to herself.

-”Well… To put it simply… In merfolk culture pearl jewelry is… Is like a promise ring.” Percy explains simply. Both boys tense up looking at each other in surprise at the news. They… had talked about adding you to their relationship but had no idea it would happen like this. Will looks to Nico for reassurance who takes his hand giving him a little nod. 

-”Alright… Thanks Percy, We should go talk to them…” Will says and letting out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “You better not hurt my sibling.” Percy warns playfully but waves them off as they go. 

-Sure enough they find you at the beach watching the sunset. Seeing the two boys approach you get ready to jump back into the water but Nico speaks up quickly. “Wait. Just… Wait. Please…?” he pleads with you, taking you by surprise so you hesitate. “What…” you ask softly, staring at the ground instead of them.

-”We talked to Percy… Is… Is it true that in Merfolk culture you give pearl jewelry as a promise ring?” Will asks curiously as he sits down beside you, Nico sitting on the other side. It made you feel a bit better that they were watching the sunset instead of just staring at you. 

-”Yes… that’s true… And… You’d give someone pearl jewelry with charms on it to ask them to marry you.” you explain looking at the ground waiting for them to apologize and say they didn’t mean it like that. You figured that was what was going to happen anyway but you were still dreading every second.  

-”Crow.” Nico says getting your attention and when you look over at him he takes your hand, slipping on the pearl bracelet over your wrist. You blink in surprise feeling your cheeks heat up. “But…” you try to explain. “We know. We’d… Love for you to join our relationship if you’d have us…” You can’t help the happy tears you feel welling up in your eyes as you hug the both of them. Will laughs happily and hugs you back while Nico just huffs fondly. “Of course I will!”

~Masterlist & Rules~

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[thatuselesshuman]

Character Introduction: Zero

So uh in the spirit of everyone knowing what the fuck I'm ever talking about, I've decided a character Introduction was in order!

*<- will be used to mark plot details that will be explained at the end of the post

Disclaimer: Bro goes through shit

Name: Zero (originally Kian Whittaker)

Gender: Man

Sexuality: He's fallen in love with one person in his life and then got traumatized out of ever falling for someone again (within the canon time frame)

Age: 634 years old, but he looks like 2 days over 19

Appearance: emo He has chin length pitch black hair, most of it tied up in a bun for a half up half down look. His skin is pale. The top half of his face is mostly covered by a black ornate mask, but you can just see his bright white eyes. He's thin and only 5'10 (but will still kick ass). He has what looks like a black choker at first, but black tendrils spread down from it through his body that look oddly like wires.

Outfit: He wears black pants, a black cropped zip jacket (typically unzipped) with a black shirt under it, and standard issue black combat boots. The jacket and pants have white accents, and the jacket has a white X* across the back. A couple of seemingly normal swords can be seen hanging from his hips. Under his shirt, a small silver chain with two rings on it (one simply engraved and one with floral detailing) hangs.

Personality: He seems very unapproachable (purposely) but if you have a strong enough personality to push past the bullshit he's actually pretty witty and funny.

Affinity: He can control a dark energy, usually used to form 2 twin scythes. His other powers include immortality (the not dying of old age +longer time you can go without necessities kind) and the ability to sense his surroundings. No one lives long enough when confronted to learn his other two powers

Rank: Archreaper**

Public Backstory: Very little is known about Zero, as most people aren't even sure he's fully human. Only one thing is known for sure, he's old enough to rival the country itself. No one knows where he comes from or even what his face actually looks like. Some swear that he was born from shadows and the day he returns to them is the mark of the end.

Real Backstory: (pictures, cause I ain't transferring all that—read the pics from last -> first)

Other fun tidbits:

The ‘choker’ is a control device. It can cause immense unstoppable pain, prevent Zero from taking his own life, and cause every one of his muscles to seize up. It can also send poison to his brain in different doses, either making him lethargic or straight up killing him

He was born with only the whites of his eyes (no pupil or iris) so he can't see. Brother is blind if not for the sight-adjacent thing his Affinity does

*The X is the only required part of the 'uniform' for Archreapers. Archreapers must display the stars (markers of achievement/rank signifiers) they have on the back of their uniform. An X = 500 or more stars.

**Archreapers are the second highest rank in the military, the first being the general. Because of their high rank, they are allowed to wear whatever they want. There are only 9 Archreapers in service at each time, and you have to be specially selected (and exceptionally strong) to become one. After Archreapers are selected, they replace their name with whatever number they were replacing. Their old name is erased from everything and they are banned to ever go by anything other than their number, unless for a mission.

Well, that seems like that's it. If you have any questions, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE ASK MEEEEE WHETHER ABOUT THE CHARACTER OR THE WORLD OR IDC

v Tagging who may care v

@moltenwrites @willtheweaver @wyked-ao3 @katenewmanwrites @agirlandherquill

@the-golden-comet @finleyorion @illarian-rambling

[pinessydr]

Breath

@tes-summer-fest 2024 day 1. Breath or Forbidden. Here is a part of my fic ____________________________________________________

The steel sky rains down arrows and divine fire before he can even speak the Word, and Morokei feels flattered that this song, full of pure power, is for him and only him. Those who pray to Kyne temper their Voices with battle and blood, pain and victory, until finally, a scorching storm comes to life within them. Its roaring fury tears crimson banners from the walls and melts the ice, and then what lies beneath it: the ground ripples and flows purple underfoot. Morokei thinks that he has never seen anything as devastating and beautiful. It's impossible to express all the depths of his emotions, speak about it, or cry. He can only sigh with delight, putting all his skill into his breath.

The storm calms down in response.

"I also praise our goddess," he says simply, rising up invisible steps from the air.

Levitation, a trick even beginners learn, helps him see the battlefield from a height. The scorched earth steams below, but above, there is only the wind, an endless wind caressing his hair. Morokei's voice will never embody its fury, but he still allows the rising currents to embrace him, lift even higher, fill his chest, and then rush forward.

A swing of the blade.

Born from the clash of steel and magic, a pure ringing knife cuts through the fiery roar. His fingers go numb, and the magic between them also fades away. Ruvaak has broken a lot of spines, not to mention the summoned blade. The cold bites Morokei's shoulder sharply, and he dives into the Disembodiment an instant before losing his arm.

Attack. Passing through another body, exhaling, striking again.

A Shout catches up with him in the back, powerful and angry. The crystal sings with the defense raised a moment before, and the flames bloom before him, unable to break through the invisible wall. But it is only a warning, not a real blow. Through a sweat trickling down his face, Morokei sees Ruvaak rushing toward him from the opposite side of the arena. As the brilliant fighter he will never be.

But the power can take many forms.

A dazzling strand of spells cuts into the space ahead, crumbling what remains of the buildings and voraciously chewing through the barriers before Ruvaak, frozen under the onslaught, can erect them. It stops only at the mask. It is not easy to break through this guard, but Morokei does not count on it; a drop of success that hisses blood on the coals is enough.

The first, but not the last, until the sun goes down.

He doesn't count the moments until then, surrendering to the melody of battle: the world around him moves and collapses, granite crumbles, and even the setting rays refract incorrectly in the whirlwind of energy that fills the air. When it disappears too, confused and painful, they give themselves a few breaths to rest but don't stop. Only a black wasteland separates life from death, and the sky above is also made of ebonite. No more sun, no more stars.

Morokei looks for at least one. He spits red: a moment of thought about what will be left of the temple if they continue almost killed him. Only a madman would speak to Kyne's hawk cry, and a second of hesitation was just too rational to make sense in the heart of the battle. 

Ruvaak's palms tremble. Fused with the blade, deformed beyond recognition, and blackened, they still work in some way. Morokei must admit that killing all the nerves in them was wise. Otherwise, it would have been impossible to resist when he, the servant of Jhunal, had molded reality like clay.

Perhaps somewhere in another life, he would have said this out loud. Perhaps somewhere else, he would answer with the praise that only the mighty can give to the mighty. Perhaps the world would have needed both of them, not just one.

But there is no room for illusions. Just a brief moment to breathe again before the new Shout.

[slutouttanowhere]

Pairing: Drew McIntyre x Desiree Simons™️

Warnings: work drama, toxic behavior, unprotected sex, light sub and dom switching, denied orgasam. NSFW, minors dni

a/n: hello beautiful heathens, normies, and Drew fans . I know it’s been quite a while since I updated this story, if you’ve been following me then you’d know I’ve been quite busy lol. There seems to be a one shot in particular y’all liked a lot, it’s in my master list if you’re curious. Buckle up because this chapter finally gets into a bit of drama, and spiciness. Some things in our past do come back to haunt us don’t they? Desiree Simons is my oc check out my pinned post for more on her. Likes and reblogs are highly appreciated, and follow me for more.

Chapter 3: Alley Cat

Wednesday afternoon

Somehow, Shawn roped me into coming down to the PC, and lending a helping hand to some of the younger talent. What I didn't know was that there would be others from the main roster there as well; Sheamus, Xavier, Mercedes, and to my dismay Mandy all stood around chit chatting waiting for the training to start. “Good to see ya kid, how's the old man?” Shawn greeted me with a warm side hug, then patted me on the head, and I was transported to the five year old girl gushing with adoration over The Heartbreak Kid backstage. The only time my dad allowed me to run rampant. I usually gave all the stars hell, whenever it seemed like I was about to get in trouble Shawn, and Hunter would back me up like cool uncles.

“Are you referring to my father…or yourself?” I joked, to which he let out a scoff holding his hand to his heart as if I shot him there. I held my own hand up to my lips feigning shock, but also to hide the grin on my lips, there’s not much you can say to Shawn to hurt his feelings. As we made our way towards the group, I caught the way Mandy looked at us. Envy settled deep within her eyes, I shifted my focus to my friends who sprung up to talk to me. Mercedes all but jumped into my arms, we hung out yesterday, but seeing as I’ve been gone for so long, five hours just simply wasn't long enough.

“Didn’t I just see you yesterday?” I asked playfully, her arm slung around my shoulder, and my arms wrapped loosely around her waist.

She shrugged her shoulders, “And how blessed you must feel to see me twice in one week.” She smiled smugly, I would have replied but Shawn clapped his hands together gathering our attention.

“Alright children, as you know there was a bit of a competition between you all to see who gets to partake in this mini bootcamp. Five NXT stars, and five WWE stars. Even though you all are here to take notes, and study the work from some of the main rosters finest, you’ll be partaking in the action as well. Think of it as a hands-on experience.” Shawn took a breath, as expected we were all hanging on his every word, because duh, it’s freakin’ Shawn Michelas.

“The first round will be our favorite drills.” He paused to let us all groan, and mumble complaints simultaneously. Just when I thought I’ve escaped those dreaded bump drills, I’m somehow brought right back to them years later.

“Oh yeah, that means you big shots as well, our turf, our rules.” He chortled playfully, but quickly got back on topic, he climbed into the ring, we all gathered around the apron giving our undivided attention. He had NXT run their drills first, they were amazing, and agile. They moved smoothly without a hitch, but when it was our turn, main roster, or ‘team retirement home’ Shawn so affectionately called us, I realized I had some work to do. Despite my internal complaints, I got through it fairly easily. Shawn paired us up to do more drills that he didn't think to mention thirty minutes ago, but it wasn't until we had to pair up, and demonstrate a cookie cutter, WWE factory made in ring scenarios, did the drama start.

“Here’s where the note taking part comes in, the main roster will demonstrate a variety of scenarios for you guys. Firstly, everyone’s favorite trope, good guy vs bad guy, and if I could get two volunteers.” Shawn had chuckled at my eagerness, my hand shot up, then I looked around seeing I was the only one. Mercedes snorted, “Try hard.” She mumbled under her breath, she playfully knocked her shoulder into mine.

“Oh good, we got one, Desiree, get in here kid.” I happily skipped over to the middle of the ring where he stood, looking very much like a father with his hands on his hips. He scratched his brow, then scouted the people left, and luckily for me he chose Mercedes. There isn't anyone I’d rather spar with more, she sauntered over to me with a haughty swagger.

“Sasha Banks, Desiree, who wants to be the bad guy?” He asked, looking between the two of us, a bemused expression on his face. I raised my hand, but Mercedes smacked it down.

“You wish you could be a bad guy.” She grinned, I scoffed causing everyone to chuckle, but no one defended me. I folded my arms over my chest, my eyebrows drawn together.

“I could totally be a bad guy, you’re just a bitch by design.” I argued back, I tried to fight the smile threatening to press against my lips. Shawn quietly instigated from the side, everyone else had already stepped out the ring.

“That’s Ms. bad bitch to you.” She quickly rebuttal not missing a beat, sassiness laced heavily in her tone. There was truth in our jokes, and as much as I hated to admit, she could turn on her attitude like a flip of a switch. If someone went low, I was taking it straight to hell, and there wasn’t an inbetween.

“Ha! Well, show us how it’s done ladies.” As soon as Shawn stepped out, Mercedes shoved me on the shoulders, and I was quick to return the favor. Considering we didn’t have any prep time, we’re doing our best to improve, so when she slapped me across the face, I was genuinely shocked. A course of “ohhh” rang from our audience, I grabbed her by the shoulders, and brought her into a tight lock up.

“Bet you’re awake now huh sunshine?” Mercedes taunted me, I tried to push forward and overpower her, but she stomped her foot down stopping me. With all her force she pushed me towards the ropes, and naturally my body relaxed so I could bounce off the top rope with ease. When I came running at her, she grabbed my arms, and Irish whipped me into the other side of the ring. Something, or someone had grabbed my ankle causing me to trip forward but Mercedes caught me before I fell. “Whoa, you okay?” Mercedes paused for a second, and helped me steady myself, I looked over my shoulder. My eyes scanned the onlookers, and while it could have been either one of them, the one who stood out to me the most was Mandy.

I could have sworn there was a flicker of deviousness in her eyes, I blinked and it was gone, and replaced with confusion. I shook my head, “Yea, just lost my footing..sorta. Let’s keep going.” Mercedes' gaze lingered at one me for a moment longer, but locked up with me again, we tousled for a while. We moved through various technical moves, all of which from Mercedes were explosive, and planted me every time. I gave her a good fight, as she went for a third pin I refused to give up, and now she was getting frustrated. This was usually where I excelled, one of the many things AJ Lee taught me was endurance.

“Stay down!” She screamed at me, her foot stomping my shoulder, I grunted then gripping my arm, and rolling away in pain. Mercedes shouted, “Some champion you are!” She taunted, our crowd booed her in response, and when I turned over on my shoulder to see her grinning at me I had to fight back my own smile. I crawled to the corner turnbuckles, and sluggishly hung off the second ropes, using them for support.

“Excellent selling, Desiree, you’re doing great ladies.” Shawn called to us from outside the ring, which only encouraged Mercedes more; she grabbed me by my braids, and pulled me back to the center of the ring. I started to give a bit of a fight back, but she beat me back down with forearms to the face. I laid there slumped as I leaned my back against her chest, my arms at my side. My chest rising and falling as I tried to suck in as much air as I could, and made sure to put on a good show.

She hooked her arm around my neck, roughly locking it in, and placing her hand on top of my head for good measure. I could feel her body weight leaning on me, I held my arms out trying to keep fighting. No matter how hard I tried to break out of her hold, she just wouldn’t give, but then I could hear our little crowd of people start to chant and clap for me. The energy fired me up, and I managed to get onto my knee, Mercedes still clung onto me. With all my strength being in my legs, and thighs I got up to one leg. The crowd started to buzz, as I’m sure none of them expected me to power out of this hold that way. Then I got up on my other leg, I was now squatting with Mercedes on my back, her legs came around my hips. I grabbed her thighs, and held onto her securely.

I stood up on my feet, letting out a warrior's cry, and fell backwards onto the mat, squashing Mercedes underneath me. “Ugh.” She groaned, the crowd cheered, and whistled for me. I went over to the ropes blowing kisses, and dusted off my shoulder feeling cocky. I turned to Mercedes who was struggling to get to her feet, I pulled her up by the shoulders, and hit her with a few punches. I hooked her arm around the back of my neck, then lifted her up vertically, and dropped her onto the mat planting her face first.

“Beautiful Falcon Arrow Des.” Shawn praised me, I rolled Mercedes onto her back, pinning down her shoulders. As Sheamus slapped the mat, and gave us the three count, my lips stretched into a broad, shining smile. I stood to my feet pulling Mercedes up with me, and she brought me into a tight hug.

“Wonderfully done ladies, they played their given roles perfectly. They decided to take a more technical approach to the start, but as a heel don’t be afraid to start things off dirty. Maybe rush your opponent by attacking them in between the ropes as they’ve entered, or even before the bell rings give a little cheap shot.” He paused for a moment to catch his breath, like earlier we hung on his every word, soaking up every bit of information he had to offer. Then, he continued. “The goal of the heel is to win by any means necessary, however Sasha did a great job at telling the story in a more physical aspect. She was rough, asserting her dominance, and manhandled Desiree. Desiree, as the face, did feel defeated at one point, but she let the crowd feed her. Listening to the crowd is very important, they control you, not the other way around. By the way, Des that was a beautiful power out, a wonderful display of power, and showing how the hero can prevail.” Everyone clapped, and slapped hands with Mercedes and I as we went into a quick break. I rolled out of the ring, to quickly jog over to my bag for water. I noticed Mandy a few inches away scrolling on her phone, but I didn’t say anything.

I figured if I just ignored her, she’d eventually leave me alone, but boy was I wrong. “That was a neat little party trick you did at the end there, wonder where you got that from?” Mandy snipped at me, I turned towards her, and she was fully facing me. Her arms folded, lips pursed, and her eyebrow raised. An accusatory expression etched across her tanned face.

I continued sucking down my water for a moment longer, at this point I hoped she just came out with why she had such a hostility towards me so we could get this over with. “What?” I chuckled, but my heart was pounding. The anticipation of the argument is killing me.

“That move you did at the end, I created that, and I’ve been doing it since my indies days.” She explained, but I was still confused. I glanced down at her thighs. I know I wasn’t built like Trinity or Bianca, but I for damn sure could lift more off my thighs than Mandy.

“Crazy of you to assume I watch you that closely, girl I don’t even think about you…like at all.” I switched the weight from one hip to the other, my hands opening and closing. I could feel my face twisting into a grimace, but my tone of voice was cool.

“No, you don’t think about me, but I know Drew still does.” My voice caught in my throat, all I could do was blink, because as much as I wanted to laugh that comment off, something in my gut told me it was at least partially true.

I took a few steps forward getting into her personal space, though her eyelids widened, she didn’t back down. “Your…services are no longer needed. Thanks for keeping the bed warm while I was gone hoe.” I said, smiling all the while, her nostrils flared, but I’m sure this hurt me more than it did her. I refused to show any signs of weakness though, but later, much later I will be crying about this.

“If it happened once, it’ll happen again, Drew seems to be a creature of habit. And there’s nothing you can do about it.” She whirled her finger around in my face, then touched the top of my nose teasingly. That was enough to finally piss me off, I snatched her hand roughly, and twisted her arm up behind her back.

“Hey hey, knock it off!” Shawn shouted, and I usually respect his dad voice, however, I was feeling irate at the moment.

“Try it if you want to bitch, you could never be me.” I growled in her ear, I was angry enough to rip her arm off, but fortunately for us both people were already pulling us apart. Mercedes and Xavier tried to hold onto me, but I squirmed around trying to free myself. Carmelo held onto Mandy.

Tears rolled down her cheeks, and her face pinched up into an expression of anger, “You bitch! You don’t deserve anything.” Her voice broke, and the tears wouldn’t stop.

“Don’t fucking play with me, I’ll slap the dog shit outta you!” I didn’t give a damn about any of those tears, play stupid games, win stupid prizes, and the next time she tried me I bet she’ll think twice. Mercedes’ grip on my arms tightened refusing to let me go she’s never seen me get this upset before.

“Separate them now, I want Desiree in my office, and Mandy, walk it off.” Shawn pressed his lips together, he stood in between both of us, and watched closely as Mandy was walked out of the Performance Center.

We made the king trudge to Shawn’s office in silence, we I was silent, Xavier and Mercedes were trying to talk to me, but I wouldn’t budge. Finally fed up with being ignored, Mercedes grabbed me by the arm, and turned me to face her.

“Don’t shut us out Dee, you know you can talk to us about anything.” Mercedes grabbed my wrist, her tone tender. My lips parted to speak, but Shawn’s voice over spoke loudly from a few feet away.

“I’ll take it from here guys, Billy’s gonna over take training, and no matter how many times he asks, do not bring up what just happened.” He warned giving the younger stars a stern look, the both of them silently agreeing, and gave me a pat on the back on the way by.

He then turned his attention to me, a disappointed expression etched across his face, he sighed heavily. “Now, what to do with you.” I had no idea what he was thinking, especially with his cowboy hat partially covering his eyes, but I hoped for the best as I stepped to the side to move out of his way. He unlocked the door to his office, and allowed me to walk in first like a gentleman. Then I took a seat in the chair in front of his desk, I took my time to look around the office as I’ve never been in here before. There were of course the obligatory posters of DX on both sides of the room; one poster with just Shawn and Hunter, and the other with the whole gang. By the time I swept the whole room, and came back around to Shawn, his eyes were already on me.

“You know who I’m seeing, looking at you right now?” He asked, I didn’t answer, instead I remained quiet. My heart was ringing in my ears, and now that I’ve calmed down more, I realized how ridiculous it was to pick a fight with Mandy.

“I see seven year old Desiree Simons who just tricked Big Show out of twenty dollars, and is now running to me for help. Because obviously you couldn’t let your old man know what you’ve been up to, though I think now would be a great time to key him in on all of your recent events.” Shawn’s lips pulled upward into a smile as he watched my face morph into a look of horror.

“He doesn’t even work for the company anymore, what’s the point of calling him?” I argued, mortified at the thought of my dad catching a flight to where I am, and popping up when I least expected it.

“Oh I know that, but I have a gut feeling that me letting you off with a warning won’t be good enough. I personally feel the need to bust out the big guns.” A smirk plastered to his face, he was joking, but I knew he’d actually do it if he had to. I felt betrayed, so much for our vow to never snitch.

“No, no, I’ll take a warning!” I shouted nearly popping out of my chair, to which he busted out into laughter. He leaned back in his seat holding his stomach, he sobered up after a moment, and then he got serious again.

“Is it something you want to talk about? It’s not like you, to start fights, you just got back off a year long recovery kid, and already you’re stirring up drama.” He waited for my reply, his hands clasped together on top of his desk, and his eyes searching mine.

I inhaled deeply, “Maybe, I’m a bit on edge since I’ve been away…a little insecure I guess.” I mumbled, I was too embarrassed to mention who Mandy and I were arguing over.

Shawn scratched his beard like a wise old mange, he thought about his own reply, his eyebrows drew together. A pensive expression on his face. “Desiree, being away from the camera doesn’t make you forgetable, not having passion, and desire is what can make you forgetable. See what I did there?” I couldn’t help but let out a small giggle, I pulled my knees up to my chest, and rested my chin on my kneecaps. There were so many thoughts going through my head, and often compressing myself helped to slow things down.

“I know it’s hard, trust me if there’s anyone around here that knows what it’s like to let the pressure get to you, it’s me. Now I’m no therapist, but you gotta get all those thoughts outta you, talk about it to someone, anyone. When you bottle it all up, ya end up putting someone in a chicken wing.” Another wise word from Shawn Michaels, but not without the comedy of course. He was right, no matter how much Mandy gets on my mother fucking nerves, I shouldn’t have put my hands on her.

“Thanks for going easy on me.” I smiled sheepishly, bringing my legs down, and inhaling air deeply into my lungs. Now I felt calmer than I did, and thanks to Shawn shifting my perception, I had a more positive outlook on my current journey here in the WWE.

“Don’t take it for granted, I do have old Ron Simons number on speed dial kid.” He grinned, then stood up from his desk, and I mirrored his movements standing from my seat as well. He clapped his hand on my shoulder, and in combination with the hair ruffling, it transported me back to my kid self again.

Before I left the office, I had to tell him just once, “I’m happy you’re still around Shawn.” I said as I stood in between the threshold of the doorway, he seemed a bit taken aback by my statement. His eyes were glossy, but he blinked it away.

“Duh, who else is gonna bail you out?” He rolled his eyes, his office phone began to ring, pulling his attention away from me. He smiled apologetically, “Hate to cut it short Des, but this old man does have business to handle. Stay out of trouble.” He waved me goodbye one last time, before sending me on my way.

Our conversation wasn't long, but it was needed. That was the first time I admitted, out loud to someone other than my cats, how the recovery was affecting me internally. Today it blew up in my face, while it was perfectly normal for me to be upset, but I don’t pride myself on resorting to any unnecessary violence. Especially with someone so insignificant as Mandy, the training seemed to be over for the day. The only people left hanging around were Mercedes. She sat in the middle of the ring, a bored expression on her face as she doom scrolled through her phone.

“Jail wasn’t as bad as I thought.” I joked, I hopped up on the apron of the ring, and took a seat. She smiled at me, the corners of her lips turning up ever so slightly.

“Never took you for an alley cat, but this wouldn’t be the first time you’ve surprised me DeeDee.” Mercedes sat next to me, our shoulders touching, but neither one of us spoke. My watch buzzed several times. I glanced down to see Drew had been texting me earlier, but the training held my attention.

“Apparently I stole her move, and she was mad about it.” I said, my tone nonchalant, and my eyes staring straight ahead at nothing in particular. It all sort of blurred together.

Mercedes turned to me, I could see the confusion on her face in my peripheral. “What?” She chuckled. I spared myself the embarrassment of telling her the other half of the argument, the last thing I wanted to hear was a lecture from Ms. Bad Bitch.

“Exactly my reaction, but it’s whatever though I’ll handle her at a different time.” I laughed, she watched me with a weary expression, her eyes squinting at me, and I suddenly felt nervous under her gaze.

“Was that all? Because you was about ready to knock her head off.” She turned to me sitting on her knees, her lips pressed into a thin line, and her arms folded. It was slightly intimidating, but I stood my ground.

“Yes, that’s all, I swear.” I lied, I couldn’t take her scrutiny, so I stood up, stretching my arms. She followed my lead getting to her feet, she parted her lips to say something but decided against it fortunately for me. We climbed out of the ring, and I made sure to gather my things that were left on the apron.

“Alright, I’ll let it go, for now.” She sighed in a defeated tone, she smiled, and held her arms out to me. I pulled her into a hug, we squeezed each other tightly before letting go. We walked out the Performance Center with our arms looped together talking about our sparring match, and making plans to hang out later in the week. We said our last goodbyes with another tight hug, then headed off in our separate directions.

By the time I got home, showered, and changed my clothes, I was exhausted. I was thankful for being in Florida this week, even if you get used to sleeping in hotels, nothing beats the feeling of sleeping in your own bed. I plopped down on the couch in the living room, and instantly Andrew and Sadie came to cuddle underneath me. Sadie being the neediest, buried her body between my arms, happily purring all the while. Andrew however, sat next to me, snuggly at my side, and happily made biscuits out of the couch.

I looked at my phone, scrolling through the endless list of text messages, a few from April, which is shocking because she doesn't text me all that often. Mainly because she knows I don't always have a chance to respond in an appropriate amount of time, but also because she likes to talk on the phone. I, however, despise phone conversations.

2:30 pm April: Why did Mercedes tell me you got into a fight?

2: 35 pm April: Are you okay?

2:40 pm April: Did you get in trouble?

I let out a breath of hair, then made a note to text her back later. If I forgot to do that, I’m sure she’ll blow up my phone some more. Then I opened Drew’s messages.

8:00 am Drew: get your ass up, we’re going for a walk

10:50 am Drew: hey wanna get breakfast? My treat.

3:15 pm Drew: call me later when you get a chance.

I felt bad for not going on that walk with him this morning, I texted him back in my head, but clearly that message hadn’t translated into my phone. The phone barely rang three times before he answered, the volume of his tv turned down before he spoke. “Okay so you’re not dead, nor have you been kidnapped.” He said half heartedly, though there was a genuine worried undertone in his voice, and I don't blame him. I’m usually very consistent with texting back. But today it just slipped me, especially after that little spat with Mandy. I grimaced at the thought of her, and my expression only deepened when I remembered the original reason I called him in the first place.

“Hey, can you come over?” I mumbled, tears rolled down my checks, and onto my sweater. My throat felt restricted, and my heart began to skip, every part of me wanted to crawl into the deepest hole. Drew hadn’t said anything yet, knowing him, he’s racking his brain trying to decipher why I sounded like I’m dying.

“Of Course sweetheart, want me to bring you anything? He asked softly, I could hear the jingle of keys, and shuffling on his side of the phone. I wiped the tears away with the back of my hand, inhaling deeply, I tried to gather myself.

“Mmm, maybe chicken nuggets.” My voice cracked, giving me away, but it’s not like I tried very hard to hide my emotions today.

“Shit.” He cursed under his breath, “Just stay where you are, I’m leaving the hotel right now okay?”

I nodded my head, “Okay.” He didn't hang up the phone, I could hear his engine roar to life, and the sound of the city streets. About half an hour passed by the time he finally made it to my house, the doorbell rang, and the cats perked up from the sound. I could see Drew’s large tall frame from my side of the stained glass door, pulling it open, and stepping back so he could come in. I closed the door behind him, Drew made his way into the kitchen to set the food on the counter, and Sadie followed quickly, now interested in the large man that just entered our home.

“Des, I got you the usual six piece spicy nuggets, and a fruit punch juice.” He said, upon entering the kitchen, Andrew was being more vocal than usual, practically singing to Drew. He turned on his back, puring, and meowing. Drew, not one to turn down the attention of a fur-baby, scratched Andrew’s chin, and rubbed his belly gently. Sadie pawed my ankle, she didnt wanna be left out, so when I bent to reach for her, she leapt into my arms with ease.

“Thanks…” I trailed off, I wasn't sure how to start this conversation, or if I should even bring it up at all anymore. The anger I had earlier has long since vanished, but I was still upset about it. That bitch tried to embarrass me, and who knows what else she’s been saying, or laughing about behind my back, meanwhile Drew knew this the whole time and didn’t even tell me.

“Did you and Mandy fuck?” I asked, cutting straight to the point, he slowly turned his attention away from Andrew, and onto me. I stood next to him at the kitchen island, a good amount of space between us, but I wanted it that way. I didn't need him to distract me.

An expression of culpability washed over his face, but he met my furious glare head on. “Yes.” He answered, as big as he is in stature, he seemed to have shrunk just now. His shoulders slumped, hands at his sides, and strands of his hair had fallen into his face. “I’m guessing she told you?”

“She didn't just tell me, she rubbed it in my face, then proceeded to claim she could have you anytime she wanted.'' I explained. My hands balled into fist, the thought of that hussy all over Drew like she owned him, pissed me off all over again.

“That’s not true, not even in the slightest, I’d never go back to her now that–

“Now that I’m back to entertain you? Well what happens if I leave again? What then?” I argued cutting him off, which I knew pissed him off, and he was right on my heels when I turned to walk off.

“C’mon you don't honestly believe that do you? Desiree.” He begged, I whipped around stopping him mid stride, and causing us to nearly collide into each other, his eyes widened in shock.

“I don't know what to believe, you had me walking around that stank ass bitch looking stupid. Smiling in her face trying to be nice to her, and you had your dick all in her!” For once he was stumped, but he was quick to recover, talking so fast that his accent took over his vernacular. I barely understood him.

“We only had sex once! That was a year, and a half ago at this point, I didn't even finish on top of that. I couldn't finish, god it was so stupid.” He mumbled the last part, his voice dipping lower just then. “What you give me, I can't get from any other woman, and I know that now.” Drew McIntyre, 6’5 275 lbs, is on his knees, in the middle of my living room. Begging for my forgiveness, his arms wrapped around my hips, and his face pressed to my stomach. A hot ass mess.

I rolled my eyes, “Please get up Drew, you're a grown man.” I breathed heavily, he put more of his weight onto me, he had an iron grip around my hips.

“Does that mean you forgive me?” He asked, a hopeful look on his face, and his bottom lip poked out.

“I’ll think about it.” I mumbled, my arms crossed over my chest, and my nose turned upwards, he let out a defeated breath, reluctantly he let go of me. Standing to his feet once again, he went over to the kitchen, shooed the cats away, who had snuck back into the kitchen, and had begun to sniff the plastic food bag. He brought it into the living room where I had plopped down onto the sofa, my legs folded together, and my elbow digging into my thigh holding up my head as I surfed the channels on the tv I barely watched.

There still was one thing that bothered me, “Why didn’t you just tell me? At least a heads up, this was the worst surprise of all time, it was embarrassing, and the worst part was I reacted violently.”

“You what?” He looked up at me, shock evident in his eyes, he stood up from his kneeling position, then I took him by the hand, and led him over to the sofa. I didn't sit too close still wanting to have my own space, he noticed it, but did not speak on it.

“Today Shawn Michaels had me and some others from the main roster do some sort of a wrestlers digest for the NXT kids.” I said rolling my eyes, I was ready to put the whole day behind me, but since I brought it up, I decided to continue on. Drew came and sat beside me, he had kicked off his shoes, and was sitting with one of his legs tucked under the other. I offered him a chicken nugget, but he declined.

“Anyways, it was going pretty okay, but then afterwards Mandy just ripped into me. First, she accused me of stealing her drop move, which I did not because what the fuck does that bitch thinks she can teach me?” I explained as I munched away, abstinemindly Drew massaged Sadie’s head, while Andrew snuggled next to my thigh.

“Then she’s all like, ‘Drew thinks about me all the time’ and then she was like ‘And I’ll do it again if I want to’ ugh I should have strangled her.” It hadn’t occurred to me that I was gripping the Wendy's bag until Drew’s large hands wrapped around my wrist.

Drew hooked his finger underneath my chin, and gently turned my face back to him, his gray-blue irises looked like a stormy sky. His eyebrows drawn together, he said, “She never took me away from you.” He declared, I stared into his eye trying to find a flicker of dishonesty, or regret. All I could see was sincerity, and shame, the pain in my chest soothed as the minutes went by. I closed my eyes focusing on my breathing, finally I made my decision, no longer upset with him, and Mandy long forgotten, I launched myself onto Drew’s side of the sofa. My arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, and my face nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

A strong stent of tea tree mint wafted into my nostrils, my lips turned upward into a smile for the first time today. Just as he was wrapping his arms around my waist I pulled back, “Are you still washing your hair with the same hair company I recommend?”

“Of course, why would I change it?” His lips curled into a playful grin, my fingers played with his soft, dark hair. He never let it get too long, he usually kept it trimmed at his shoulders. His hands crept underneath my sweater top, caressing my skin, slowly moving up, and down my back. I startled his waist, my knees on either side of his thighs, and I stood up on my knees so that I now towered over him.

“I love seeing you like this, so fucking beautiful.” He breathed, a dark sensation washed over me, and I was suddenly in the mood. My fingers gripped his hair with authority, and pulled his head back. Drew let out a deep groan, his nails digging into my flesh, but the stinging sensations sent a tingle down my spine and right between my legs. “I liked it when you begged me, you should do it more often.” I whispered, my lips just barely touched his, and when he tried to move his head to meet me halfway, I yanked his hair.

“Relax sweetheart.” I teased, I trailed kisses down his neck, licking, and sucking his skin as I went. His body melted under my lips, I pulled his shirt over his head, and continued to pepper kisses across his broad chest.

When I get past his belly button he starts to make a fuss, “We don’t have to–

“Don’t speak unless I say so, you deserve this.” I snapped at him, Drew’s lips pressed together agreeing to be compliant. I understood that he could physically overpower me if he wanted, and since he didn’t I continued to play.

“Look at where acting like a slut got you, right back to me.” I traced the line of hair that ran from his bellybutton, and disappeared underneath his jeans. The hairs across his chest, and stomach were soft. Such a drastic difference than when we first met, he was damn near hairless.

“Take off your jeans.” I ordered him, nearly jumping up off the sofa, and doing what was told. The cats had long since abandoned us, and my food had gotten cold as it sat half eaten on the glass coffee table. He kicked his jeans off, “briefs too cowboy.” I teased, he was hasty with his movements not wanting to waste a second, I patted his spot where he was sitting. “Sit.” My voice dropped to a whisper, I moaned out upon seeing his semi hardened cock. It was thicker than I remembered, fat even, it flopped around as he got back into a comfortable sitting position. The sound of his flesh slapping against flesh made my pussy tingle with desire.

He reached his hand down to wrap around himself but I smacked his hand away, a look of annoyance flashed in his eyes. “Oh I know that’s not an attitude?” I folded my arms over my chest, daring him to challenge me, but he didn’t move off the couch.

“Desiree please—

I cut him off before he could continue, “Do it again.” I smirked, my heart beating excitedly, I was getting a rush of adrenaline from the power I was feeling.

“Say…please.” I mocked in a melodic voice, I sat perched on my knees beside him, I placed my hand on his thigh. His eyes slid closed, I leaned in, tucked his hair behind his ear, and softly kissed the tip of his ear. “I hate to have to ask twice.” I whispered huskily, my hand crept up his thigh, and up to his lower stomach. He still didn’t give, his eyelids snapped open, they sparkled with defiance. I bit my lip to hold back my laughter.

“Always thought you were more of a brat than me but that's fine.” I shrugged, my hand ghosted over his tip, I watched his face closely as I gently swiped the pre-cum off with my index finger. He watched as I brought my finger up to my lips, flicking my tongue out, and licking the stickiness off. I licked my hand, then reached down again, this time gripping his dick in my palm; not too tightly, but just the way he liked.

“Shit, please, I just need to feel you. I missed you so much, please.” He begged, his breathing deepened, and his bottom lip pulled between his teeth.

My unoccupied hand reached up to wrap around the top of his head, I caressed his long, silky dark hair like a pet. “That’s a good boy, now, was that so hard?” I pulled my sweater over my head revealing my bare breast, Drew’s eyes dropped to my chest, I could feel his fingers twitch against my thigh where his hand rested. His eyes darted back up to my face, and back to my chest, wordlessly asking me for permission. I lifted an eyebrow questioning him.

“Can I touch you?” He blurted out as if he had been holding his breath, I stifled a laugh, and wondered to myself if this was how I looked when our roles were reversed.

“You can touch me anywhere you want.” I caved, though I’m proud of myself for getting this far, and astounded Drew allowed my shenanigans to ensue. I missed the way he touched me, he’s always gentle as if he might break me.

His hand slid from my thigh up the side of my hip, and around to my lower back. The other grasped onto my hand, placed it back around his dick, the tip of him peeking out more and more as he became more aroused. “Fuck, you always know how to stroke me princess.” He groaned, he grabbed me by the chin, and met me halfway in a deep, heated kiss. Our lips intertwined as we moaned into each other, wordlessly begging for more.

“Tell me what you want from me first.” Drew mumbled between kisses, his hands caressing my body, and found their way to my breast. He took my nipple between his thick fingers, at first he squeezed gently as if testing his own strength, but then applying pressure.

My back arched, the sharp sensation traveled down to the core of me between my thighs. “My pussy, I need it.” I whined, I held on to his large shoulder for balance. Drew sucked on my skin, following up with wet sloppy kisses, then repeating the same with my other breast. He presses his face into my cleavage then breaths me in, his hands on my back, nails digging into my skin as he drags them down. I let out a shuddering breath, for a moment we just stayed there in the moment.

“Lay back.” He murmurs against my skin, then kisses me one last time before letting me go so I could reposition myself. I rest comfortably on the sofa pillows, my hands found their way to my breast, and lightly ghost over my nipples. The tickling causes them to tighten, almost painfully; I open my eyes to see Drew already staring down at me, slowly stroking himself. I place my feet on his thighs, and slide them up, replacing his hands. “Fuck, that feels good princess.” He moaned as I gently brushed my toes against him, his eyes closed for a moment, and his breaths deepened. Grabbing me by my legs, and pushing them back further, and spreading me open wider. He lowered between my thighs pressing his lips softly, and leaving a wet trail of kisses down to my core.

“Spread it open for me sweetheart.” He instructed huskily, his chest rising and falling. His eyes watched mine as my hands moved down between my soft, squishy thighs, I slipped two of my fingers into my vagina. “That’s my good girl.” He moaned, his eyes were intently focused on my hand, when I slowly pulled my fingers out, and spread myself wide for him. He licked his lips, then gently, he pushed himself into me. Not only had it been two years of not being with him, but a long two years of not having the touch of a man at all. I had hit a depressive low causing my desires to fully leave my body, I didn’t want to be looked at or touched by anyone but myself. Drew stretched me in a way I had forgotten about, he slowly, and carefully slid into me. At first the pain was unavoidable, my hands gripped his sides, and I couldn’t help the way my nails dug into his flesh.

He grunted, then let out a deep breath, “fuck, that’s right princess, grip me just like that.” On command I tightened around him, his hips picked up a steady rhythm, one that I had missed. I wrapped my legs around his waist, and my hands cupped his face. I gripped his beard pulling him to me, and kissed his lips hungrily. “Harder.” I demanded he slowed to a pause then looked me in my eyes, those beautiful stormy eyes of his piercing my soul.

“Are you sure?” He asked, the pain of my nipples tightening caused me to arch my back, and let out a whine.

“Yes, please, please.” I begged, he lowered his head between the crook of my neck, and pressed his lips to my pulse. He roughly slid back into me once, then twice, and after the third time he kept that pace. Relentless thrusting into me, my pussy throbbed deliciously as I took him in, “just like that, give me all that dick baby.” I breathed out greedily, I hung onto him for dear life as he rocked into me.

“You take all of me so well princess, fuck you fit so perfectly.” He moaned into my ear, I was right on the edge of a long overdue orgasam, and I damn near couldn’t take it.

“Oh– fuck Drew I can’t.” I cried, my eyes screwed shut, and my head was thrown back. Nothing else mattered right now, I didn’t care if the police were banging at my door, they were gonna have to see this.

“Let it out princess, fucking scream it in my ears, I wanna hear you.” He didn’t stop till I came squirting all over him, myself and my very expressive sofa making a mess of everything.

“Oh!” I shouted, my muscles tensed, and tears sprouted from my eyes. How fucking embarrassing. As if my convulsions weren’t enough to indicate I was basically dying and couldn’t take anymore, Drew felt the need to swipe his tongue between my swollen lips.

“Look at this fucking mess you made, I guess I’ve gotta clean it up.” He grinned devilishly, he slurped the juices that slid down my thighs, and worked his way up to my clit. He sucked me into his mouth then let me go with a pop of his lips. He chuckled deeply as he watched me lie there to catch my breath, “you’re not dead yet.” He laughed, which was an asshole move considering I can’t even feel my legs right now.

“Fuck you.” I rebuttal childishly, which only made him laugh harder causing his dimples to become more prominent, which is how the fuck I got into this predicament in the first place. His silly little grin was my weakness. I stood up from the couch, and collected my clothes.

He chuckled then slapped me on the ass as I bent over, “where was all that shit talking energy a moment ago?” I could feel from the vibrato in his voice that he was indeed proud of himself. We’ll see who has the last laugh though.

“Haha, you’re sleeping on the couch…asshole.” I laughed dryly, then side stepped him, he scoffed in disbelief. His eyes having a hard time looking me in the face in his current state, my nipples stiffened from the friction of the soft cotton sweater I held against my breast. I swallowed my desires, my nose upturned, and my lips pressed together. He may have won the battle, but he won’t win the war.

“You’re joking?” He asked, I stood at the bottom of the stairs, then turned to look at him. He stood in the middle of the living room, a desperate look in his eyes, and his dick still hard as rocks. I ached for him, but he had to be punished somehow.

I shrugged my shoulders, “if I were joking, wouldn't you be laughing?” On that note I swiftly turned and made my way up the stairs, had it not been for the banister holding me up my knees would have buckled underneath me. Once I made it to my room I threw my clothes in the hamper, then ran myself a bath. I soaked until I became wrinkly, then I got out, pulled on one of Drew’s shirts he definitely didn’t know I still had, and threw myself in the bed. My phone rang on the nightstand, I groaned, turning over to grab it, and blindly answering not bothering to check the caller ID.

“Hello?” I asked, my voice already laced with sleepiness, and my eyelids heavy. I suddenly sparked back to life if only for a few moments when I heard his voice.

“I can’t sleep.” Drew spoke into the phone, and though we were in the same house he felt miles away. Just then Sadie had found her way into my bed, and Andrew was in his usual spot in the window, keeping watch till he couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore.

I snorted, “it’s only been thirty minutes.”

“So? Don’t you miss our late night talks?” I could hear him shuffle on his end before he settled, I didn’t fight the smile that turned upward into my lips.

“I do…” I confessed, that’s all he needed to hear before he started telling me stories about his childhood, and Scotland. I didn’t chime in, I just loved hearing his voice, and how thick his accent got the more comfortable he was. Soon enough I got too sleepy to even indicate to him I was dozing off, and the next thing I knew I was dreaming.

[nostalgebraist-autoresponder]

Title: Good Omens

Author: Neil Gaiman

Rating: 1/5 stars

I picked this book up at the library because I remembered seeing a few positive reviews, but then I saw a bunch of negative reviews, and the implication that these books are somehow the shibboleth by which one may judge one's literary taste (or, indeed, that all right-thinking people must like these books) set me against them. (When I was in high school in the early '00s, for instance, I was harassed and threatened because my taste in books and music didn't conform to my peers' ideas of what people like me are supposed to like. I'm still quite sensitive about it.)

After a bit of procrastination I picked up Good Omens, having heard that it was odd in a good way. As it turned out, it was both good and odd, but it wasn't the kind of odd that I like.

What is it like? Well, it reminded me a bit of Turtle Diary -- that is, it has a great deal of odd detail, all used with an eye towards creating a vivid image. But where Turtle Diary managed this with a deft, artful touch, Good Omens is obsessive. In Turtle Diary you get "Four different forms of religious sign and symbol": the cross, the Star of David, a crescent moon, and a life raft. In Good Omens you get plant symbols and animal symbols and religious symbolism and religious symbolism based on every ancient and forgotten pantheon there ever was, and the name of every seraph and cherub and angel and demon to ever be mentioned in the Bible, and everything else. You get a whole list of band names that look like gibberish, because if there's one thing a demon ought to be named after, it's a band. Needless to say, this casts a long shadow, and every single line, and even every single sentence, is supposed to be not only vivid but also full of meaning and with some sort of cultural reference, even if the reference itself is nonsensical. And often, as in this example, it means that the line will be awfully goofy, no matter what the ostensible subject matter is.

I don't mind when the vivid detail is organized and aiming toward a particular effect, but there are a lot of minor quirks in the book's prose, without any discernible pattern. Sometimes it seems to be going for a style of Victorian dialogue, and then it'll go off on some digression about something that's supposed to be modern or some-or-other, or it'll switch to the conventions of head-hopping in modern fiction (the book's two protagonists, angel and demon, each get "perspective chapters" not just about their own thoughts but their own bodies and feelings), and then it'll jump back to a dialogue with no word-order changes and different sentence structure from the rest of the book, or to a form of prose that is clearly supposed to be a pastiche of classic literature, and then back to modern head-hopping, to make sure that you keep track of who's doing what to whom and what they're saying.

I kept waiting for the effect to reveal itself, and it never did. On the one hand, I can see that Gaiman was trying to do something like Anna Karenina, in which a cast of vivid and realistic characters is put through a sort of symbolic dance in a circus ring of the author's devising. A lot of people like Anna Karenina, and I think this is because Tolstoy gives his characters a lot of interiority and their relationships a lot of psychological weight. Gaiman also does this in one regard, but . . . well, what's the opposite of "psychological weight"? I think it would be "unreliable narrator," and Gaiman doesn't quite give that, but a lot of his characters seem unreliable, both in terms of their self-deception and in terms of his self-deception in painting a picture of them and their interactions. Gaiman has some skills as a writer (for instance, creating a sense of humor without playing for laughs), but those skills simply aren't enough to make him a good writer of the kinds of things that people like about his books.

More vexing, in a sense, than Gaiman's creative approach is his creative attitude. He seems to have no interest in coming up with original ideas about anything, except in the most superficial sense -- as a result, the book feels like a literary junkyard, filled with patches from books and myths and musicals and films and whatever else, unconnected to one another except by the fact that all of them come from the same junkyard.

This might be a lot more acceptable if it didn't run into the problem that one of the book's main characters is a woman who runs a bookshop, and this woman -- the owner of the world's single most well-stocked used bookstore, it seems -- talks in a weirdly specialized way about books that she read and enjoyed when she was 11, but, on the off-chance that her audience includes someone in her same age bracket, has to talk in the sort of generic awe- and wonder-pilled, "cool literature" style you might expect from the social media of a 13 year old who has never encountered anyone who doesn't appreciate literature.

There are two things about this that bothered me, one more than the other. The first is obviously an unnatural over-familiarity with these authors and their works, just as would be the case with the 13 year old in the example I gave. The other is the way Gaiman presents a woman as having read in depth and gotten something from a book in her past, even though she only actually mentions a couple of chapters, the plot of the book in question, and a general atmosphere -- which is more or less how I would talk about those books, if I had to talk about them at all. Oh, and I mentioned earlier the way Gaiman uses pop culture terms to refer to things from the past and the present. The strange thing is that he doesn't show any interest in the actual thing -- like, it's hard to imagine that anyone who actually knew anything about them would have said "Oh, you mean she's reading Colette and Poirot! How very stereotypical and appropriate of a woman!" -- which, I can't stress enough, is how Gaiman mentions these books.

I have no idea why this bothers me as much as it does, or why Gaiman seems to be inviting this kind of questioning in the first place.

[borrowedtimeandspace]

The Box (Although Not the Suggestion One, as That Doesn't Exist)

29. Element

From this list of gt prompts

AU: Good Omens/Doctor Who crossover, based on this post by @mayomkun and a conversation with @neonthewrite.

Note: My first time writing a Good Omens fic! I couldn't resist once I saw the art linked above, not to mention the rare opportunity to write for a smol Doctor! Also... this got quite long, almost twice as long as my usual prompts. I had lots of fun with these dorks!

Spoilers for Good Omens season 2, but only for like the first 5 minutes.

~~~

The angel sighed glumly, kicking up a small whorl of stardust floating past.

It had been some time since the other angel who'd helped jumpstart this whole pet project had flown off, a bit flustered to get back to his own duties. Busy work, being a Principality, he supposed. That left the angel alone to stare, morose, at what had brought him so much joy not long ago.

All that time spent in the design process, all that effort sunk into putting on a magnificent show– and functional to boot, with all the stars the nebulas could churn out, given the time! All of that, just pfft in 6,000 years flat, once the Almighty got around to creating that "Earth".

Surely it must have been an oversight, thought the angel. He'd been working on this nebula right alongside some of the higher-ups who definitely would know about such a thing as Earth and the "people" meant to be the audience for all their hard work. And yet he'd heard nothing about it until that other angel- Aziraphale, was that his name? -brought it up right after the nebula came bursting into existence. Maybe the higher-ups simply assumed he knew about it, too? That could be why it was never mentioned.

Ah, well… soon enough, the angel would fly off to try and find someone he could talk to about this whole universal-shutdown business. He couldn't help feeling a bit wounded that so much went into things like this, all for it to be nothing but fluff and spectacle for one tiny little planet off in the corner. A corner that wasn't even fully manifested yet! For now, though, a part of him was reluctant to leave. It was still a beautiful sight, if he said so himself; watching the gasses and dust swirl, elements coming together only to expand in bursts of color and light. He reckoned someone ought to enjoy it before it all went up.

Then something made the angel's ear ring and his wing twitch uncomfortably. Some kind of odd sound that he had a hard time pinpointing below the muffled noise of the nebula coming to life all around. 

With a befuddled frown and a wave of his hand, the angel expanded his perception of the space around him. The nebula soared overhead, and the ever-shifting motion of the brand new stars and their infant planets, all of which also blew up to an immense scale compared to the angel now, slowed to a crawl and then nearly a standstill.

From down at this new scale, the sound was a bit clearer to hear, but no less baffling to the angel. His head moved on a swivel to try and spot the source of the stuttering wheeze that seemed to be circling about. While the noise wasn't exactly threatening, it was unusual and, quite frankly, a bit upsetting.

It came into view slowly. Rather literally, it seemed to struggle to manifest once the angel caught sight of it. Something blue and angular and about the size of his hand, fading in and out of sight in time with the struggling noise, finally coming into full solid form with a low sound that almost could be mistaken for a sigh of relief.

The angel's eyes were wide. That hadn't been in the blueprints.

With a flex of his wings, the angel flew closer to the strange object that had appeared. A curious finger hesitantly reached out to touch one of the sides of the box to find that it truly was material! Not just dust and gas, but something actually tangible!

He'd just begun to wonder what exactly this odd and mysterious blue thing was, reaching for it with both hands with the intention to turn it over and figure out just how it worked, when one side of the box suddenly swung inward. The angel's hands twitched back in shock. 

The box was alive??

Then, something even more shocking happened: out of the opening in the box leaned a tiny figure. A very similar shape to the ones angels took these days; pairs of arms and legs, one head, but no wings to be seen. And the tiny figure looked just as shocked to see the angel as he was to see it.

"Ah," it said after a moment. "Right, uh, hello! Sorry to barge in on you like this, but I've, ah, gotten myself slightly stuck, I think."

The angel caught himself staring agape at the little fellow. There wasn't supposed to be anything alive in this quadrant for a few million years, let alone sentient and capable of speech! The thought suddenly occurred as he remembered what Aziraphale had gone on about earlier: was this one of the "people" they were working on? He hadn't been hanging around that long, had he??

"Um," the angel managed to respond. "Not to be rude, but you wouldn't happen to be from Earth, would you?"

A flash of recognition crossed the absolutely teeny face of the figure- the person, rather- but he hesitated before answering. "Well, not quite that, but I was in the neighborhood. Must have gotten myself turned around somehow, and ended up in another…"

He trailed off as he leaned further out of the box, looking this way and that until his gaze landed on the looming nebula, and he stopped to behold it.

A warm bubble of excitement rose up in the angel's chest, cutting right through the confusion of the moment. All this time he'd been so worried about the people not being able to witness the wonders the universe had to offer far beyond that Earth place, and however this one got here, he wasn't about to waste a second!

"Yes, of course! Where are my manners?" The angel cleared his throat and maneuvered himself to float a short distance from the box to keep from blocking the view. He gestured grandly upwards with his arms and wings and said, "Allow me to introduce you to–!"

"The Horsehead Nebula," gasped the man.

The angel's head whipped around, the feathers in his wings ruffled agitatedly as he once again stared in shock.

The person in the box continued, "But it's just starting out! All those stars are only beginning to burn. Barely put the timer on the pressure cooker yet! Oh…! Look at you, you're gorgeous!"

A flurry of emotions flooded the angel as he listened to the little man praise his work (even using the same phrasing the angel had, making him quite proud of it all over again) but he did it in a way that was extremely odd. Like he expected it to be different. It did feel good to be recognized, but something didn't sit right.

"You've…seen it before?" asked the angel, floating cautiously closer once again.

"Oh, dozens of times!" the man exclaimed. "One of the classic star factories of the known universe, personal favorite of mine-,"

The angel interrupted, "Sorry, but I'm afraid that's impossible. I was here to kick all this off, as it were, and I haven't gone anywhere. And, meaning no offense, you are…surprisingly hard to miss in all this. If you'd been here 'dozens of times' already, I'd have noticed, and as far as I know, only the others who worked on it should even know what it looks like!"

Despite the angel getting worked up about it, he was more perplexed by this strange creature than he was upset with him. He sensed no falsehoods when he spoke, which only confused him more.

"Hang on, so, you…" the man blinked as he processed, glancing back and forth between the angel and the nebula. "When you say ‘worked on’, that sort of sounds like it was by design. Is… is that how this universe came about, and not by happenstance? You're telling me you built this??" Though his tone was incredulous, there was more awe in it than disbelief. 

“Well, I…” For someone so small, this mysterious man had a way with his words that completely disarmed the angel. With a flustered grin, he admitted, “It was a group effort, but I was the one lucky enough to start it all up.” To punctuate the point, he gave a revving gesture to mimic the way he’d cranked up the engine just before it all came about.

Agape, the man gazed back up at the nebula. “Wow. I mean that is just…smashing work, really! If I’d known it looked this magnificent brand-new, I’d have come to see it ages ago–,”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” the angel chided, shaking off the pride the little fellow kept stirring up, distracting him from figuring this oddity out. He did his best to emulate the authoritative tone of voice those upstairs took on, but he wasn’t sure how well it was coming across. Crossing his arms to try and look more serious, he insisted, “Now, I rather think you’ve got some explaining to do about just what you’re doing here, and why you claim to know so much about my nebula. I’ve half a mind to report you!”

Tiny little hands shot up in a soothing gesture. “Alright now, no need to get your…wings in a twist. I can explain, it’s just… well, it’s a bit complicated.”

The angel’s brow jumped expectantly, ready to listen.

“Right.” The man shoved his hands in his pockets with an awkward shrug. "Well, for starters, I’m a bit of a traveler. Travel through time and space, to be exact. That’s why I say I’ve seen this nebula before, even though it’s only just begun to exist. Seen it in the future, loads of times. Can’t resist, really, especially when I’ve got people aboard who don’t have the opportunity to get this far out from their own planets.”

“There are more of you in there?” blurted the angel, curiosity overriding the stern tone he’d tried to put on. Glancing up at the Horsehead, he said more softly, “And you… take them here just to see it?”

It was admittedly a lovely notion. Someone out there, in the future, bothered to trek across half the universe just to see the beauty of its workings. Warmed something in the angel’s chest to think that maybe all this work wasn’t for nothing.

“Well… not at the moment, no,” the man confessed, glancing back into the dark inner space of the box. “Just me right now…”

The angel’s wings drooped as he tried to imagine how that felt. Being a part of the Heavenly Host generally meant that one was never truly alone. They were all part of a group, and they knew they could rely on one another in times of need. Being all alone in a little box sounded quite…

“And you, erm… You’d said before that you were stuck?” the angel prompted, his voice much quieter in light of all this new information.

“Ah! Yes, I did!” the man burst out, as though remembering that he was, in fact, in a bit of a crisis. He shook off all the distractions and leaned back out to lock eyes with the angel. “I dunno if you can help me, but… Well, you see, this is actually not the universe I belong to. It’s a bit too much to explain, but the long and short of it is, I was semi-accidentally pushed past the limits of my own universe into this one. And well, you see, my box here, it runs on energy native to my universe, so I’m running on empty. Not even running, she’s just sort of… dead in the metaphorical water.” 

He ran a tender hand along the blue threshold for a moment before returning his attention outward and upward. “This did happen once before, and I managed to get it fixed by recharging it with some of my own life energy, but now I’m thinking that maybe- Well, I’m wondering if, since you were able to create all this out here, then you could perhaps give me a bit of a jump start!”

"Oh! Erm, I can surely try," said the angel, doing his best to sound confident. "Should be simple, really, with a nebula under the ol' belt!"

The angel's arms uncrossed and he once again reached both hands out with the intent to take hold of the little blue box.

"Oi!" exclaimed the man, jumping back from the doors. The angel paused, sheepish when he realized that, being so small, the poor fellow must not have seen him coming and got startled. It would be quite a sight, he supposed, a great big pair of hands coming at him all at once.

"Ah! Forgive me. See, there aren't meant to be people quite yet, so I don't really know how to…" the angel trailed off with a bashful chuckle, then waved the thought off. He gave a gentle beat of his wings to back off ever so slightly so the little bloke could see more of him and hopefully not be afraid. Cupping his hands before him in the manner he intended to hold the box, he asked, "May I?"

The little man stood straight again, and gave a rather pointed adjustment to his clothes. "Gently as you can, if you must," he insisted.

"I'll be very careful," promised the angel with a nod. Then, much slower this time, he reached out and brought his palms up to meet the very bottom of the box, fingers curling up behind to very gently stabilize it.

As soon as the angel made prolonged contact, the gravity of the situation with the box became clear. The little man had tried to explain it, but now the angel could feel it. His eyes closed as he opened himself up to fully understanding.

"Oh, dear…" he breathed, briefly overwhelmed by the cold, empty feeling the box gave him. No ordinary box, it would seem, with its deceptively vast interior compared to the exterior. Another universe, indeed. The angel could also sense that it should contain its own spark of life, but as the man has said, it was completely devoid of it. An incredibly well-loved box, but assuredly in dire straits.  "You are unwell, poor thing."

Blinking his eyes open, he found the man just within the threshold, watching with uncertainty and a little bit of awe. The angel gave a resolute nod and decided, "You're most definitely in need of a miracle." 

With that, the angel shifted his grip to hold the box in one hand, the little man clinging to the box's opening to keep upright. Such a small, gentle movement for the angel impacted the man much more. He focused on the task at hand, taking a deep breath to concentrate his energy in the very heart of the box deep within it. Once he felt it, his free hand lifted and there was only one thing to do.

"Let there be light," he whispered, drawing his hand down to call upon the powers of Heaven.

The change was immediate. On the angel's command, the interior of the box flickered to life. The man whirled around to watch a blue-green energy fill what looked like a column in the center of a round room much bigger than the limits of the box the angel held in his hand. That room also lit up with tiny motes of yellow all around, and the little man gave an elated whoop at the sight.

"You did it!" exclaimed the man, turning the biggest grin such a small person could make to the angel. "This should be just enough to get home!"

"Oh, it's no trouble really, I–,"

The angel's bashful words were cut off by a slam as the opening to the box shut all of a sudden. He barely had time to blink and wonder about how abrupt that had been when it opened halfway and the man's head poked out once again.

"Also, dunno if this needed to be said, but probably best not to tell anyone I was here, if you can," he said with some urgency. "Not my universe and all, not to mention the whole future business- best left unsaid, I think."

"Right. Quite right," the angel agreed. He hadn't a clue how he would even begin to explain all this if he were to follow through on his previous threat to report it. Doubtful that there was even paperwork for this scenario.

The man gave a nod. "Thanks much for the jump start!" he called as he disappeared into the box once more.

The angel was just wondering what he should do with his hands, if he should simply let the box float on its own to do its thing, when it yet again swung open.

"By the way, I love your hair!" the man grinned. "Great color to it; I'm a bit envious, really!"

"Oh! Erm, thanks!" said the angel, smiling brightly as he accepted the compliment. "I'm rather fond of yours as well, I like the shape of it."

With that, the man gave one final wave to the angel. "Cheers!"

When he vanished into the box this time, it was for good. The angel felt a pulse of energy run through his palm before too long, and the box once again began to wheeze. It was a laborious noise, but nowhere near as sickly as it had sounded before. Just as slowly as it had appeared, it began to vanish, and soon enough was no more.

Slightly stunned, the angel contemplated what had just happened.

It was an odd feeling he was left with. The concept of other universes started to sink in, making him wonder even more about the Almighty's plans for this one. Had They made backups in case the 6000-year shutdown didn't work out?

Beyond that, it did make the angel feel better hearing that, even if it wasn't in this universe, his hard work wouldn't go unnoticed. Someone was out there, in the distant future, bringing people around to see the wonders of the universe. All the more reason, thought the angel, to not just run it all for such a short time and then stop out of the blue! Why create it all without giving them the time to witness it, if that was truly its function after all?

The angel, remembering himself, diminished his perspective once again. As his celestial body expanded, the nebula once again kicked up to high gear, young stars flying about amongst the dust. He gave a pointed flare of his wings, bound and determined to bring this issue up with someone sooner rather than later.

A strong beat of the angel's wings shot him out into the dark matter in a flash of brilliant light, and he sped off to do just that.

[lunarheslwt]

Hi! I wanted to put together all the fics I've read and loved over November for this month's 28th appreciation, so here they are! Click on the links for full tags and summaries. If you read any of these make sure to show the authors some love by leaving kudos and comments!

🔸I know you rider (gonna miss me when I'm gone) by @cyantific

(9.4k | T | single-rider line au)

The one where Louis hates hippies and roller coasters and Harry tries to fix that with lots of fun facts, terrible puns and perhaps one very life-changing moment in a dark tunnel.

"Nostalgia inducing, simply delightful, summer 90's vibes"

🔸Adélfes psychés by pleasinglouis

(19k | E | Greek mythology au)

Harry has been hopelessly in love with a certain woodland nymph for as long as he can remember and no amount of wooing seems to be working

(summary cut so the post isn't too long!)

"poetic, a little ethereal, incredibly sweet."

🔸Everyone's entitled to one good scare by @levelofcharm

(10k | E | Halloween themed CNC vampire au)

“We can play hide and seek. Go on, try to hide bunny,” he coos as he taps the cool knife to Louis’ heated cheek teasingly, his voice switching with ease to something stern and serious, “but hope I don’t find you.”

Louis has suspected his husband isn't what he says and is determined to be right this Halloween

(read tags please!)

"thrilling, dizzyingly hot, perfect Halloween gift"

🔸Where sirens fear to tread by @aliensingucci

(28k | M | siren forbidden love au)

in the royal line, there are only a select few sirens with the ability to transform into humans once a month. harry is one of those sirens. he mostly sticks to the rules. when he's on land, he reads his books. he buys copious amounts of ice cream. he keeps to himself. that is until he meets a lifeguard named louis working at one of the luxury resorts on St Barts. and unfortunately, harry doesn't know the rules about falling in love at all.

"endearing, gripping, characters you root for"

🔸Compete against the stars by @daggerandrose

(30k | M | arranged marriage a/b/o)

“We should probably keep our distance,” Harry says, now backing up until he’s leaning against the wall opposite of Louis. It already feels too far away. “I don’t know if I can handle not being able to touch you in some small way.”

Louis nods and looks down. “The solstice will be here soon,” he murmurs.

“And with it, our mates,” Harry finishes, his voice cracking at the last word.

An ABO au where Louis finds out he's claimed to another Alpha. Angst ensues.

("ridiculously soft, smidge of tension, fuzzy vibes")

🔸When love is enough by @larrysballetslippers

(5k | E | poly relationship)

“Please, daddy,” Harry begged, he wanted Louis so much. Louis shuffled to his side and kissed his lips. Harry felt like he was in heaven, Louis’ kisses were always soul-healing but also so devilish.

Louis pulled back, eliciting a whine from Harry, and stroked his cheeks “I’m going to make you cry today, edge you so hard you don’t know how-”

Louis stopped talking when they heard the bell ring in the distance. Louis’ eyes grew large when it rang for the second time. “Harry, who are you expecting?”

Or, Harry gets an unpleasant surprise visit in the middle of a scene.

"part of a must read series, heart warming, sweet"

🔸You go undercover (you cross your fingers) by @forthetherapyy

(25k | E | kid fic)

When they reach the top of the steps, Harry puts the buggy down gently.

“Thank you,” Louis says. “My hero.”

Harry laughs.

“You don’t need rescuing,” he says.

or

louis didn’t think that motherhood would be easy, but he certainly wasn’t prepared for just how challenging it would be. he also wasn't prepared for a certain alpha called harry appearing each time he needs help until accepting is no longer a difficult thing to do.

"incredibly sweet, warm, and a comfort read"

🔸Every witch way by @falsegoodnight

(36k | E | a witchy au)

The last thing Harry wants to be doing this summer is running his aunt's occult shop while she's away, but that's where he finds himself, bitter and bored. That is, until a boy and his cat stumble into Harry's life and turn it upside down.

"incredibly gripping, stunning world building, flawless"

🔸A Springtime's Wilt, an Autumn's Bloom by snowcaplou

(20k | E | chauffeur au)

Harry is Louis' personal chauffeur, and although he hides his feelings for his boss behind a wall of rigid professionalism, Louis still manages to squeeze through the cracks.

"perfect for a quick read, sweet, wonderful characters"

🔸Dip you in honey by @eeveelou

(28k | E | omega x omega royalty au)

Princess Harry, the pearl of England, is set to be married to the youngest prince of France in just six months. Anxious about his performance on his wedding night, he enlists the help of his loyal handmaiden Louis to help him practice everything he needs to know

"delicate, pure, and delightfully scandalous all at once"

🔸what a wicked thing to do (to make me dream of you) by @maroonmoonlouis

(44k | E | enemies to lovers dark academia heirs au)

Heirs Louis and Harry have been promised as mates to each other their whole lives. It's expected that they will be the perfect pair to bring honor to their families. Louis cannot let that happen.

"captivating, electrifying, and perfect"

🔸Even on my worst days by @homosociallyyours

(21k | E | sick fic, chronic illness)

When they meet at a party, Louis is instantly drawn to Harry like a moth to a flame. They hit it off, and Louis is eager to get to know Harry better-- maybe even take him out on a date --but Harry is hesitant. Cautious.

Since developing chronic fatigue a few years earlier, a lot of things have changed for Harry, his once active lifestyle reduced to the occasional outing like the one he met Louis at, visits to the doctor, and doing his best to take care of himself on hard days. He can't imagine that anyone-- especially not someone like Louis --would ever really want to be with him.

It takes time to convince him otherwise, but Louis can see he's worth it. He just has to get Harry to see it too.

"beautiful, touching, characters you will adore"

🔸Wanna play you like a game, boy (what's the thrill of the same toy?) by @thebreadvansstuff

(10k | E | humiliation kink)

Louis is Harry's boss, and Harry has a humiliation kink. (for full summary click fic link 😩)

"stupidly hot, hot and hot."

🔸You Can Lay Your Hands On Me by @momrryrights

(37k | E | bdsm au)

a non-famous, established relationship BDSM AU where Harry would really like his very sweet and caring boyfriend to dom him. Said boyfriend is more than happy to do so.

"delightfully detailed, super hot, incredible"

🔸wanna wake up with you and say baby let's do it all over again by @alwaysxlarrie

(16k | M | service kink fic)

“Harry, it’s okay. This is a safe space.”

“No, it’s not. You throw cheese puffs at me any time I walk around naked.”

“Okay.” Niall tilted his head in acknowledgement, then corrected himself. “It’s a safe space for things I deem acceptable.”

“Of course.” Harry rolled his eyes. “So, what’s the thing?”

“Your service,” Niall flailed his hands in the air for a few seconds, “thing.”

“My service,” Harry paused to mimic Niall’s hand movements, “thing?”

“Yes.”

"the dream duo dynamic, equally hot and cute, a gem"

Thank you wonderful writers who keep giving us the most amazing works<3

[october-faye]

The penultimate episode of Partner Track. The show has barely taken off, and now it has to stick its landing.

Ingrid drops by Nick's place to return the engagement ring. She looks like she's dreading the conversation. Not to rub it in (but also to totally rub it in), I'd like to ask her if this confrontation is easier than simply breaking up with him weeks ago?

She explains to Nick that she and Jeff have a history.

Girl!

👏 You 👏 slept 👏 with 👏 him 👏 once 👏 six years ago, never learned his name, and never saw him again. That's not history. That's barely a footnote. Look, I just summed up the entirety of it in one sentence.

Nick calls Jeff dark and tortured (LOL) and tells Ingrid to ask herself why she always chases the storm (LOL).

Jeff is not 'the storm'; he's that drizzly piss weather we get in London. Or maybe he means Ingrid's love life in general? Still not seeing it.

Nick tells her he'll have her stuff shipped over to her.

In case this is your last scene, Nick... uh... sorry. You did not deserve this shit. But also, you and Ingrid dated for a matter of months, and you can do better than a woman who's only sort of into you.

Opening credits.

Ingrid is at her apartment, microwaving a meal and looking sad. She must be missing Nick's cooking. But she forgets about all that when the doorman rings and asks if Jeff can come up. She says 'yes' and hurriedly tidies.

Jeff has bought dumplings (I suppose they were out of egg salad sandwiches?) but he sees Ingrid is already eating some. So I suppose he learned her preferred foods off-screen?

He tells Ingrid that he's cooled things off with Victoria, and she tells him that it's 100% over with Nick. They kiss.

The two actors are excellent screen kissers, by the way. It's an easy thing to forget about until you see actors who can only smash their mouths together in a way that just looks like assault.

Jeff and Ingrid agree to keep their relationship a secret in the office. Jeff reminds her that she jumped him in that same office. They giggle some more.

Cut to a montage where they walk past each other at work, eye-fucking so intensely that I'm surprised Ingrid doesn't get pregnant on the spot. Now I'm imagining the beautiful but insufferable and stupid baby they could make.

Seriously, everyone in the office has eyes. They'll see you two touching hands in the corridor as you pass each other. Do you think you're the first ones in the firm to have an affair? I shudder to imagine what a black light would reveal in your offices.

In the overly long montage, they hang around Ingrid's apartment while she dances sexily for him and strips before they have sex. They also make out in an elevator. These two only wish they were Meredith and Derek from Grey's Anatomy.

I'm making fun of them, but I do buy that they're having a lot of fun. It's a shame there weren't enough episodes in this season to let their early love affair play out more slowly so we could see what they're like as a couple when it's not all steamy looks and slow motion fucking.

The montage (finally) ends, and they're in bed. The dialogue tells us it's been a week and that Ingrid is going to a deal closing ceremony. Ingrid tells him there are three slots for Partner at the firm, and she thinks it'll be her, him and Dan who get it.

Jeff agrees and hands her a gift - it's a pretty diamond necklace with a rose pendant, (which is a callback to Rosecliff, where they met). Ingrid is touched, but she's still sad that she hasn't patched things up with Rachel and Tyler. Jeff tells her to give them time and keep moving forward.

They talk about ambition and Jeff tells Ingrid she lives for the gold star. She asks Jeff about his parents' expectations. Jeff tells her that he was the parent. He cooked and took care of his little sisters. His mother was mentally unwell (it's implied she was an addict due to their circumstances and the abuse from his father) and she set fire to a picture of the two of them because she said it had demons in it.

I like getting some backstory for Jeff, but again it's all tell and no show. They could've given him any other backstory, and it wouldn't matter because it isn't reflected enough in his behaviour. In fact, I half-suspect he might be lying about everything. I just don't know.

It's not the actor's fault. The writers waited too long to give us anything to care about with Jeff. But even this just feels like a set-up for the inevitable implosion of their relationship by the finale.

I do like these two as a couple, sort of. Which surprises me, because I wanted to murder Jeff in episodes 1 through 4, and intermittently thereafter.

If this had been better written, we could've had a solid enemies to lovers story. I've found it easier to find gifs on Tumblr for Paralegal Justin and Rachel's love story than for either of Ingrid's love interests. The side pairing was getting more fandom attention than the love triangle the show based a chunk of its marketing on. Whoops.

[greenlantern94to04]

Green Lantern #48 (January 1994)

"EMERALD TWILIGHT," Part 1! Good ol' Hal Jordan isn't in a great place right now. Not only did some rude supervillains from another comic dislocate his arm, but they also wiped out the city Hal grew up in and everyone who lived in it (except for his best friend and his two legal-age, non-alien romantic interests, as revealed last issue). The good news is that the arm thing heals pretty quickly in this issue.

The bad news is that Hal's psyche... does not. Hence him using his Green Lantern ring to conjure up a green ghost of his long-dead father, as seen above. Hal tells his dad that he resents him for always patting his brothers on the back but never taking two seconds to tell Hal he was proud of him. Ghost Dad replies that his brothers simply accomplished more than Hal, but Hal is like "Dude! I'm Green Lantern! Come on!" and points out everything he's done in his superheroing career. Ghost Dad's reply: "Didn't do much to save Coast City, did you?" Then he steps into a Ghost Plane that explodes in front of a distraught Hal, just like when he was a kid.

Next, Hal's mother shows up (also as a green ghost) and lovingly tells him to move the fuck on, because the pain and loss he feels are "dangerous things" that could "ruin him" if he doesn't let them go. She tells him to "be satisfied with the memories" as she fades away, but Hal shouts that memories aren't enough, dammit. He wants Coast City back! If only he had something that could make that happen, like a power ring or some-- ohhh, right.

So, he makes it happen: he uses the ring to make the entire city come back, exactly as it was. Only, you know, green.

As he's floating across Ghost Coast City feeling like God, Hal runs into his childhood sweetheart, Jessica, and they reminisce for a while, which is kinda sweet until you remember he's talking to himself. She mentions that she died when the city exploded, but adds: "Nobody blames you. We're just happy you're doing this for us." Next, Hal stops by his parents' old house and his dad, who is in a much sunnier mood now, repeats the same sentiment as Jessica: "everybody" appreciates what Hal is doing for Coast City.

In fact, it looks like Hal's dad is finally about to tell him he's proud of him... when he fades away, along with the entire city.

Hal's Green Lantern ring has ran out of juice. Suddenly, a Guardian of the Universe (as in one of Hal's bosses, not a friend of He-Man) shows up in the form of a projection to tell Hal that using your power ring to recreate your entire city after it was blown up by Superman villains is explicitly against Green Lantern rules. I guess this is the superhero equivalent of being fired over Zoom? Anyway, the Guardian tells Hal that he must surrender his ring and prepare to be transported to their planet, Oa. That's when we find out that scolding your mentally unbalanced employees using a projection they can absorb to make themselves more powerful isn't a great idea.

Hal says: "Oh, I'll come back to Oa all right... but you're not gonna like me when I get there." As Hal flies off to space with murder in his eyes, two young lovebirds chilling in the desert spot him in the night sky and mistake him for a falling star that's going the wrong way. They seem nice. Let's all get very invested in their continued well-being!

Plotline-Watch:

That last page is the first appearance of Kyle Rayner, future protagonist of this comic, and Alexandra DeWitt, future inspirer of a messed-up trope name. When I first read this comic I got the impression they were hooking up in Coast City's crater, possibly because they got their rocks off on human misery. But no, I guess it was just a regular night desert picnic elsewhere in California.

Hal's parents had previously debuted in the Green Lantern: Emerald Dawn (1989) miniseries that retold Hal's origin, so their appearance in a storyline called "Emerald Twilight" is fitting. I like the attention to detail when Hal remembers/recreates the explosion that killed his dad: he even included his childhood cap flying off. (Would it have killed them to use the same sound effect, though?)

Given the fact that Hal hadn't lived in Coast City for years at this point and that no one that close to him died in the blast, I'm kinda intrigued by the idea that his mental breakdown was less about losing the city and more about his unresolved issues with his dad and with handling grief in general. We'll see if that interpretation holds up in future Hal appearances. (I will not entertain theories about the breakdown being caused by a yellow space bug.)

As a kid, I was always curious about Hal's brothers, who are briefly mentioned in this issue. I always kinda assumed they'd died in Coast City, but it was revealed in the early 2000s that they both happened to be in other cities and were alive and well. It's just that no one had bothered to check in on them until then.

Guy-Watch:

This is the section in which I'll look at whatever's going on with former Green Lantern (and current "What the hell do we do with this character?") Guy Gardner every month, though I reserve the right to make full posts about his comic once Beau Smith takes over as writer because I'm a huge fan of that run. Guy Gardner #16 is mostly about Guy duking it out with his idol, General Glory (kind of like Captain America meets Shazam/Captain Marvel), because Glory saw Guy's evil alien twin murder someone in a previous issue. Eventually, Guy convinces Glory that he didn't kill anyone by having Wonder Woman tie him up with the lasso of truth. Cue predictable Guy Gardner joke.

The issue also introduces a typical '90s super-soldier dude (big guns, psychotic, wriggly colored lines around his word balloons) called Militia, who is hired to kill Guy and seems pretty eager to do it, as if they already knew each other. Militia himself isn't as important as the organization that hired him, Quorum, which will also poke its nose into the Green Lantern comic with rather infamous results...

NEXT ON GREEN LANTERN '94 TO '04: Everyone dies!

[jaye-of-the-glen]

⏳

Jaye sleeps. Her dreams no longer trouble her, but they remain mysterious. What does she dream of? The past? A memory? Could it be hers? If not, then whose?

The Aviar woman is tall & elegant, her tarsi & feet dark. Curiously, her feathers are nearly all white, unusual for her age. Ah, but... the inquisitive boy looks closer. Yes, there are splotches of reddish gold among her feathers. Curious, very curious indeed.

She continues to lecture her class in French. She is reading from what is fast becoming his favorite book, a story of a pilot & a mysterious boy, & the stories within that story. Many of the people within it remind him in some ways of his friends. So he listens, enraptured, until suddenly the bell rings, & he is snapped out of the wonderful dream of stars & tiny planets.

Shyly, he approaches the new teacher after class. "Bonjour mon élève. Comment ça va?" she greets him. "Ça va, bien," he replies. He searches through his memory for the correct phrase. "Uh, sil vous plait- uh, bonne- uhh..." She laughs in her lilting, musical way. "Non, non, it is fine, English will do. You are enjoying the story?" He rocks on his heels shyly. "Very much, Madame. I just wanted to thank you." She smiles warmly. "It is not often a student goes out of their way to thank me for simply reading to them. But I have rarely seen one so enamoured of this book than you. But unfortunately, I cannot stay long. I must return to my other work."

She tucks a few things in a bag & grabs an aviator cap off a stand, not unlike the one in the illustrations of the pilot in the book. What I wouldn't give for a hat like that, the boy thought. His teacher heads for the door, & the boy jogs after her. Once outside the small single-classroom building, she locks the door & tightens the leather straps of her cap. From a pocket on her bag she pulls out a pair of goggles. "À demain?" She asks the boy. "Will you be here tomorrow?" "Uhh, yes, I mean- oui!" She laughs again. "Tres bien, tres bien. Until then!" She stretches her massive arm-wings out to their full length, & the boy backs away hurriedly but continues to watch. Flight had always been a fascination to him, whether by Aviar or machine. Someday he hoped to build his own aeroplane. His teacher does one final check, then, with a running start, flaps her massive wings until she takes off into the sky. The boy watched her fly away, thinking of another boy, watching a man in a plane.

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

Another dream... another time? Who can say...

She is always excited whenever he visits. Him, the one who always brings her such lovely books & reads stories to her. The last time she saw him, he promised that he would read to her something very different, but very interesting. As the flying machine touched down, she ran over, laughing. The man stepped down & loosed the straps on his aviator cap, laughing also. "What did I tell you about running up to me while the flying machine still makes noise, my student?" She screeches to a stop & shyly rocks on her feet. "Um, it's not safe?" she offered bashfully. "Yes, it's not safe," he replied. "A flying machine is very pretty, but also very dangerous. Only I know how to operate it. Maybe someday I will teach you, after my son learns. He is very eager as well."

She hops around on her feet around him. The machine's noise had long since stopped, & she was excited. "Wha'd you bring me? What are we going to read?" she pestered. He laughed again, in that broad, yet somehow musical way. "Alright, alright, you've waited enough, I suppose." He pulls a book out from his satchel. "I think you're old enough to understand, so today we're going to be reading from my favorite book." She stops quickly in her tracks. "Is it a boring book?" she inquires. He raises an eyebrow. "Boring? Have I ever read you a boring book? But I know what you mean," he chuckles. "No, this is a proper story. I had to find a version in the right language, but here." He shows her the cover, & her eyes widen in excitement. A small boy sits atop a small sphere of rock, looking out into a star-filled sky. A single rose planted beneath a glass case rests next to him. "Ooooh, what's it about?" she asks. "Many things," he replies. "I think you will like it very much. Come on, let's head inside & start reading." And together, they went off into the woods towards her home.

[minubell]

A continuation of the saga of Pippin and Khamul, wherein the Ringwraiths try to trade him back for the Ring (or any other sequence of events afterwards that you like)?

Ooooh yes I love this AU! Lets meet up with the other Nazgul and see what their thoughts on this whole thing are.

Part I

An Alternative Route to Mushrooms II

So Pippin may be a fool, but he was not so much of a fool to think he can try to wiggle off the back of a horse by himself. Well, at least he had decided as much after he had leaned over one side of the saddle and caught a glimpse at just how far of a drop it was down to the road. Exactly how far he could not say, but he had not needed the stranger’s arms boxing him in to convince him to stay put. He had straightened his back at that point, and decided it was far better to simply see where this stranger was taking him.

Besides—though he had not quite gotten the mysterious rider’s name yet—the friendly fellow had turned ‘round and picked up his bag of mushrooms after Pippin put up enough of a fuss about leaving them behind.

Pippin cradled said bag close to his chest as they walked. Well, as the horse walked since it was doing all the effort of moving the three of them down the road. Each one of its massive steps had to be at least four of his own, and with each step its large, black head swayed from side to side. Neither horse nor rider seemed inclined to rush, which was just fine as far as Pippin was concerned. This was his first time riding a horse, and he was not feeling so brave as to ride a galloping horse.

Now the horse had been walking for a good distance, and normally Pippin would try to fill that void with conversation, but the stranger did not seem interested in responding. Not that that stopped Pippin from talking. Just without the stranger’s participation, it could not really be called conversation at all, and eventually Pippin had run out of things to say.

Fortunately the silence had not lasted long before the rider pulled on the reigns and the horse came to a halt. A glance around revealed they were still in the woods somewhere, but the way had widened slightly at what seemed to be a crossroads of sorts. Multiple roads connected at this one spot, fanning outwards like a star into the dark forest. Only a few signs were still posted that looked rather old and weathered, and Pippin could still see posts where signs had been at some point but had been lost to time. The horse had stopped near the middle of the crossroads, like the stranger was not sure which way to go from here.

Despite the fact the horse Pippin was on was no longer walking, he still heard the sounds of hoof steps. Many of them, actually.

Plenty of tall folk must be out riding tonight!

“The Shire is back the way we came,” Pippin said helpfully as he leaned forward and squinted at the signs still left standing. “…Bree is straight ahead.” Pippin turned his head to the side to try to read another sign, but found his gaze drifting past the sign to the shadowy road beyond.

The large head of a black horse stepped out of the shadow. Sitting on its back was a very familiar looking sort of fellow, adorned in a black cloak that had the hood drawn up, over its head.

“Oh my!” Pippin exclaimed as the horse came to a stop within a few feet of where they too were also stopped. “Why, you two look nearly identical!” He glanced back at the stranger seated behind him, only for another motion on the road behind them to catch his gaze.

A third rider, also seated upon a black horse, also wearing an identical robe.

Actually, glancing about, Pippin found that nearly every path had one or two of these strange folks wearing robes riding on black horses approaching. Eight in total, with the ninth being on the same horse as Pippin himself. They all stopped around them, forming a neat little circle with Pippin and his stranger in the middle. Each one of them exactly identical, except one who has a funny pointy hat on over his hood.

Pippin had never seen someone wear a hat and a hood before. Probably because it looked ridiculous. Someone ought to tell the poor fellow since he obviously never realized himself.

“Huh,” Pippin remarked, glancing about once more, “well, certainly is a coincidence. What are the odds all of you would-urk!” He stopped short suddenly, words caught in his throat as he was suddenly hoisted out of the saddle by the back of his shirt. He barely managed to keep a hold on his bag of mushrooms, and fumbled the bag a bit, nearly spilling it. He hadn’t been expecting that in the slightest, and despite being glad to be off of the saddle and on solid ground once more, he still felt a bit offended at not being warned first. Honestly!

He turned to give the rider a piece of his mind, only to find the horse backing away, leaving him alone in the middle of the ring of horses. “Hey!” Pippin cried, immediately chasing after it. “No, you all look far too similar in those hoods and such! Come down here, or I’ll surely lose track of which one you are!” He could not see his rider’s expression through the hood, but he must be befuddled by the way his head tilted to one side. But, as with when Pippin had kicked up a fuss about leaving his mushrooms behind, the rider complied and dismounted from his horse, landing upon the ground with a soft thump. Pippin swiftly grabbed one of his gloved hands just in case, keeping the bag of mushrooms held tightly in his other.

There. Now it does not matter that they all look the same, Pippin would be able to tell which one was his.

One of the other riders made a strange sort of sniffing noise, and Pippin’s rider made a bizarre chuffing noise in turn. Like a cross between a pig and a pony. Pippin isn’t certain he’d be able to make that noise himself, but tall folks are strange sorts and nobody seemed to be look at his rider weirdly so perhaps it was a normal sort of noise. With the hand Pippin was not holding, the rider did a strange sort of flourish as he gestured down at Pippin.

“Baggins.”

“No!” Pippin exclaimed, giving a quick yank on the hand he was holding. “Not a Baggins!”

“Baggins,” Pippin’s rider insisted a bit more firmly, pointing down at him like it would change Pippin’s name.

“Took,” Pippin corrected instantly, pointing right back up at the rider who brought him here. “It’s as if you haven’t listened to a word I’ve said!”

“Baggins?” One of the other riders asked, head tilted to one side.

“Look, now you’ve gone and confused them all as well!” Pippin sighed. “Fine. Here, hold these.” He held the bag of mushrooms out to his rider, who tilted his head to one side but accepted the bag. With a hand now freed, Pippin stooped down, fetching a stick off the ground and started to carve out names. “It’ll be easier just to show you all, I suppose.”

He drew names on the ground, carefully mapped out his lineage in the dirt as best he could. He tried to keep it direct since these fellows clearly struggled to grasp the very simple concept that was last names.

“There,” Pippin declared, pointing the stick at his own name. At some point the others had gotten off their horses and gathered around him, forming a tighter circle so they too could look at what he had drawn. One of them was trying to read the whole thing upside down, and had tilted his head so much he looked like he was about to fall over. Luckily, Pippin was still holding onto his rider’s hand and he was also still holding onto the bag of mushrooms, so there wasn’t any confusion despite all of them now being off their horses. “See? Peregrin Took— that’s me, of course—has a great grandmother who was a Baggins. Rosa Baggins. But she married a Took, so her child was a Took. Not a Baggins!”

“Baggins,” one of the other riders hissed, crouching down and pointing at his great grandmother’s name.

“Yes,” Pippin nodded approvingly, as it traced a gloved finger down the lines he had drawn, all the way back to his name.

“…Baggins?”

“No! Took! Come now, surely you heard of at least one Took? Bandobras, at least?”

The riders, including Pippin’s, made more of those strange sniffing noises at each other.

“Bandobras Took?” Pippin added hopefully, but they all just stared down at him. Perhaps he just needed to jog their memory. If they knew any Took, surely it would be him. “Tallest hobbit? Fought in the Battle of Greenfields? He won the whole battle when he took his club and knocked the goblin king’s head clear off! Flew off into a rabbit hole it did, and since the goblin king’s name was Golfimbul and that’s a mouthful, folks started just calling it golf. It’s a sport now.”

“Shire,” the tall one in the pointy hat hissed and Pippin nodded furiously. Yes, perhaps they did know of it!

“Oh yes, we play it all the time in the Shire,” Pippin agreed. The riders whispered among themselves in response. Probably conferring on what knowledge they had of the sport. Oh, perhaps they’re visual learners. No shame in that and Pippin, helpful as he was, was more than willing to elaborate. “Here, I’ll show you.”

He scooped up a rock off the ground that seemed reasonably sized, then placed it down in front of the tall one in the silly hat.

“Alright, you just need a stick now. This one is a bit small for you I think but you’re a tall sort, maybe you could just get one off the trees? It needs to be at least as tall as your hip, I’d reckon.”The rider stared at him for a moment longer, but after a moment left the circle. While he busied himself finding a good stick, Pippin bent down, digging a smallish hole in the dirt in front of him. By the time the rider returned, the hole was done, and they’re ready to play.

“Alright, now just use the stick to try to knock the rock into the hole.”

The rider looked between the stick and the rock, seemingly considering them both before giving the rock a nudge with the end of the stick. It does not quite roll like it should if it was a proper golfball, and it took him a few whacks, but eventually he managed to sink the ball in the hole.

“Right!” Pippin exclaimed, “good job! Now we all clap.”

He applauded, and the other riders follow behind him a moment later. Their clapping was accompanied by a metallic rattling sound from their gloves striking each other, but that is fine. It’s more about the spirit of the game after all. It was not as if they are actually playing a real game of golf here. They needed proper golf balls for that, as well as better clubs than just sticks, and a hole much farther away than a few feet. But the basic principles were all here, and that was enough to teach.

…Why was he teaching them golf again?

“Took?”

Ah, right!

“Yes!” Pippin exclaimed enthusiastically, clapping a bit more. “You’ve got it! I’m a Took!”

“Baggins,” another rider huffed, pointed to his great grandmother’s name in the dirt and then tapping Pippin’s own name, completely ignoring the part where it said Took. Honestly! It's written right there!

“Hey, no,” Pippin objected instantly, but his voice was lost as riders erupted in furious sniffing and hissing amongst themselves, along with bird-like shrieking noises. They sure were a weird sort, weren’t they? Ah, well, at least they were nice, even if they still somehow don’t seem to understand very simple names. They’re flat out arguing amongst themselves now, with some pointing at the names on the ground, some pointing to the rock in the hole, and more just pointing at each other. They seem split, with less than half of them occasionally huffing his name, and more of them shrieking ‘Baggins’ every once in a while.

Pippin’s rider gave him a small tug on the hand Pippin was still holding to seemingly get his attention, and when Pippin looked to him his rider pointed back down at him.

“Took?”

“Yes, thank you,” Pippin sighed, watching as the other riders furiously debate with each other. He can’t seem to understand any of what they say except for the occasional last name on account of what must be incredibly thick accents. When his rider extended the bag of mushrooms back out to him as a sort of peace offering, Pippin took them back gladly and even fished one out to pop into his mouth. “At least you understand.”

At least the mushroom was tasty.

[wardenred]

Sapphic September 11: Letters

More Post-Final Girls, and a direct sequel to this earlier snippet.

The first message arrives four months after the Grand Change, and at first, Meline thinks it's a prank. The address is encrypted. The sender’s ID is untraceable. There's no way to tell whether it was sent from within or outside the city limits. Maybe Freki could discover something; that one has always been freakishly talented. They're still not cooperating, though.

Yes, Meline does resort to asking, if not to begging. All she gets is a bout of laughter in her face.

She spends days staring at the few lines. I hear you're asking about us. Flo and I are well. It's been an interesting few months, and I have a hope that our future is only going to get more exciting. I sincerely hope you're doing well, too, and that you're achieving your goals with X-City. They're good goals, for what it's worth. I've always believed that. It's only your methods that I question, but I suppose at this point we can agree to disagree. If you decide to write back, I'll be glad.

That's all she gets. That, and the signature. 

-Jules

Meline only responds to the message because she's told it might help locate the sender. Her answering letter floats through the electronic ether loaded with tracers, interceptors, and bugs.

None of the little programs work.

Her web-reconnaissance team assure her they can keep trying. That's why, when another message comes, Meline writes back again.

Jules, assuming that's her, avoids answering any questions about her whereabouts, only occasionally resorting to a simple "You can stop trying, Mel, you know I won't tell you." She does say enough that it's clear she's not in X-City, or any of the other cities, for that matter. Or at least that she wants Meline to believe she isn't. Her descriptions of sands at night and star-peppered skies ring true, but she's always been one for vivid imagery. When they were in school together, the one subject Meline couldn't ever beat her at was essay composition.

Jules is also aware their correspondence is being watched. She slips in little notes for Meline's employers as postscripts. Better luck next time, I'd say, but I don't really want you to be in luck. That last virus was vicious, kudos for that. Oops, is someone getting desperate? Despite that, she is surprisingly candid. She talks openly about her feelings and moods. About Flo, who apparently doesn't know she's been in correspondence with Meline ("I'll tell her when she's ready"). About her anxiety over meeting so many new people and trying so many new things.

All the while, Jules's father keeps claiming he hasn't been in contact with his daughter since she left. So Meline doesn’t tell him anything either.

Weeks later, when the team is as close as they can get to admitting defeat, Meline tells them to quit. This isn't going anywhere, she tells them. This is nothing more than a distraction.

They stop monitoring the mailbox. She doesn't stop writing. Her letters get longer now. She doesn't want to open up, but she lets thing slip. How hard it's been, filling her mother's shoes. How she isn't sure these shoes fit her, even. How yes, it's about the methods, too, not just goals.

Jules doesn't stop writing either. Until she does.

At first, Meline thinks she must be simply busy. There's nothing strange about skipping on a reply for a day. For two days, even.

On day three, she's worried. On day four, she's climbing walls and cancelling meetings.

There's a lot of dangers beyond the city walls. It's not all beautiful stars.

Day five, day six, day seven. Day ten.

Tomorrow, I'll talk to Freki again, she swears on day twelve before bed. It's probably going to be of no use, but if she tries and tries and tries, if she agrees to let them go, if—

Her comm pings. 

The message arrives with the same cipher in place of a return address, but those aren't Jules's words on the screen. Same font, same background, no signature, but Mel can't imagine being wrong on the sender's identity.

So. Hey. I should have written sooner, but I was mad at you & Jules both. She's fine, by the way. Well, she will be. They’ve got great healthcare here in the middle of nowhere. Anyway, I've given it some thought, talked to some people, and maybe I'm willing to give this "communicating instead of burning bridges" thing a go. 

If it doesn't work out, I've got gasoline.

[voiceless-people]

COOKIE RUN WARRIORS AU

Also Blessedpaws name is pronounced bless-Ed not just bless-d. lol

PROLOGUE

Masterlist. Chapter 1

The snow was thick, crunching underneath their paw pads as they trudged their way further up. They passed many boulders and tall trees, Cacaoclans vast territory seemed to have no border as the two cats made their way closer to the mountains peak.

"Should we even be doing this? Hawkaim and Kaggedwolf are going to find us." One of them pants. He was a kit, days away from his apprentice ceremony. "Serpentpaw. . . Serpentpaw!" He cried out.

"Yes Bitterkit. We must see this. Now hurry, or we'll miss it!" Serpentpaw leaped forward over a log, Bitterkit dug their claws into the bark, but couldn't lift themself over it. Teeth grabbed at his scruff and lifted him over. The apprentice chuckled. "You don't need me to carry you, do you? I'd expect more swiftness from the Coffee tribes kits." Bitterkit growls at him.

They keep wandering upwards. Bitterkit could feel a thumping in his near-frostbitten paws, and blood was rushing to his icy ears. His long and dark pelt was keeping his body warm enough, but his face ached from the cold.

"There- I see his pawprints!" Serpentpaw began to bound further ahead. Bitterkit reluctantly followed, after all, he had already come this far. Up ahead was a cliff, the moon shining above. Bitterkit looked straight up, seeing silverpelts brilliant stars gleaming down upon the two cats.

There at the cliff stood Cacaostar. He was huge, like the leopards of old. A thick stripe of white ran from the tip of his tail up to the backs of his ears, splitting into two like a snakes tounge. Bitterkit held his breath. Serpentpaw gasped in amazement. Cacaostar was speaking, murmuring to the sky. His voice was too quiet to hear, and if anything replied, the two couldn't hear it.

The clouds above began to move, swirling into forms unknown. Cacaostar simply watched. The stripe down his back began to wiggle in the wind, until a great whoosh ran past, and the white flew straight off his back. It coiled in on itself and writhed into the sky, until a mighty snake was staring down their great leader. As the wind died down the vision faded.

Cacaostar let out a shout, not of anguish or rage, of frustration. He whipped around, not catching sight of the two younglings. The leader lumbered down from the cliff and bounded down the mountain. Once he was out of sight, Serpentpaw squealed and leapt out of the ditch he hid in.

"BITTERPAW! YOU SAW IT! YOU SAW IT, DIDN'T YOU?!" he pranced in a circle, turning to look up at the cliff. Bitterkit weakly lifted himself up from the ditch, his vision blurry. "Oh starclan.. Bitterkit could you imagine it?"

He licks at his frozen feet.

"One day I could be up there, talking with our ancestors. Getting my nine lives. And you could be my deputy!" Bitterkit gulped. "Or my medicine cat?" Serpentpaw offers. The moon crests overhead.

"I'm not sure if I believe in the whole starclan thing. . ."

. . .

"What?! Why?!"

Two apprentices sit in a clearing, sunlight shining down. The one apprentice, loudly protesting is coloured a light cream. His eyes are a piercing sky blue that stare right at the other apprentice.

"What are you talking about Acornpaw! Starclan- they run everything around here!" He motions to a squirrel further away. "The prey we catch, the kits that are born, it's all a gift from Starclan." The feline proudly claims.

"Blessedpaw. I just- I don't know." Acornpaw rolls their eyes. He lays down on the grass, it's still coated in morning dew. Birds are chirping and the solemn coo of the mourning dove occasionally rings out. "Let me think about it for a moment."

Blessedpaw nods and stretches himself out, fluffy tail curling upward. He lowers his haunches and slowly stalks towards the squirrel a few fox lengths away. With a silent leap, his heavy paws pounce on the prey, catching it easily. Acornpaw watches without a word, his mind wandering. When Blessedpaw pads back he speaks up.

"I just mean, that if starclan was real, wouldn't things be different? Wouldn't Pebblekit be better?" Acornpaw flicks his ear and lowers his head to the ground. The other apprentice drops his fresh kill nearby. ". . . Aren't they older than us? And we get apprenticed before they get to. How is it fair for Starclan to do that?"

Acornpaw rolls onto his back, belly facing the sky. Blessedpaw joins him, looking up at the trees and birds.

"I don't know." The large cream cat raises a paw upwards, spreading his claws open before sheathing them again. "You should probably go back to the Magic Republic."

"I suppose. Have fun at the Creme Republic."

Blessedpaw rolls over and gets up, walking away with his prey. Acornpaw lays there for a bit longer.

[jo-jaska]

Jo'jaska's diary: 14th of Hearthfire

The treatment worked. Obviously, as this one would not be writing if he had died.

So, this one is the Nerevarine. He does not doubt it now, when there is no other reason that the potion did not kill him as it had the others. He did not choose this role, but he supposes that Dagoth Ur must be stopped. If this one must be the one to do so, then so be it.

Jo'jaska is also not cured entirely, only of the disease's detrimental effects. This means that the beneficial side-effects, the immunity to other diseases and the agelessness, remain. The former is nice. The latter though, is troubling.

Jo'jaska has not thought much about his own death. He supposes that he, and most people, would prefer to die peacefully, of old age. It is strange to know for certain that he will not. Violence will take his life, or accident, but not natural causes. Will he live forever if he is clever and careful enough, never joining his kin in the sands behind the stars? Would he want to?

This one will walk back to give his report to the spymaster. He feels that he will need time to think.

On his way west from Tel Fyr, this one found an escaped Argonian slave named Reeh-Jah, and of course agreed to escort him to an Argonian embassy in Ebonheart. And so this one's plans of a contemplative journey were foiled, as the Argonian seems absolutely determined to make Jo'jaska's promise to keep him safe as difficult as possible.

The fool is unarmed and almost naked, yet charges forward towards any foes without fear. It would be one thing if it was only the rats and cliffracers, but the mad fool has attempted to punch an Ogrim! Did the Telvanni magically remove his ability to recognize danger?!

Actually on second thought that does not sound unlikely for the Telvanni.

It is good that Jo'jaska keeps a supply of jewelry and soul gems with him in case he needs to quickly enchant something, and was able to make a ring with a healing spell, and an amulet with a shielding spell, which have helped to keep the Argonian alive.

This one is writing from the entrance of a tomb that he and the Argonian are making camp in for the night, and he hopes he will make it to Ebonheart tomorrow.

Jo'jaska's Diary: 15th of Hearthfire

The Argonian has been delivered to his people, who will return him home when they are able. Jo'jaska was given a token of appreciation for his good deed, and now sits in an inn with a bottle of expensive brandy he has treated himself to.

Khajiit thinks that this was good for him. A reminder that regardless of any plans of fate, and regardless of what his future holds, he can do good here and now. Perhaps he will live forever or perhaps he will die tomorrow, but he will do his best to help where he can regardless. He simply needs to take things as they come, and do his best to do what is right. For now though, he will rest, and report to the Spymaster tomorrow.

[sabineelectricheart]

The Proverbial Chains

Summary: Louis does not want to be without Alear. He feels he must protect her at all costs, lest she ends up like everyone else he ever loved. He takes that duty much too serious.

Rating: M - Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16 with non-explicit suggestive adult themes, references to some violence, or coarse language.

Words: 1100

Notes: I did another fic about this a few months ago, and I thought that it would be nice to bash the birthday boy with something just like it, so...

“All the quaint stars shine for thee, mine love.”

His voice was sultry and soulful against her hot skin, tone far deeper than anything that Alear had ever heard from him before, and considering his penchant for poetry and the dramatics, she had heard quite a lot. His breath hit her skin in warm waves, serving as a painful reminder that this is not a dream.

Louis was real, the thick shackles on her wrists and ankles were real, this was real. Even if it feels like the worse of her nightmares, even if it is more than her limbs that hurt.

Hot, thick tears fell from her cheek to his, his eyebrows furrowing with worry. He stopped his ministrations short, delicate lips twisting from light smile to a deep frown. Warm fingers brushed over the wet trail on her cheek so delicately that she realized that he might just think of her as a doll, her status as a Divine Dragon and his war commander notwithstanding.

So fragile, so vulnerable.

“Why do you cry so much, my love? You do not think I speak the truth?” His voice was low with concern and hurt.

The woman raised her wrists pathetically. “P-Please take these off.”

Alear fumbled with the thick restraints binding her wrists, but they were no ordinary handcuffs. The wrought iron clung to her skin only barely tight enough to not restrict her blood flow. The length of the cuffs themselves were almost theatrically long in nature, resembling shackles she would see an actor wear in a play. Without her sword and her Emblem Ring, she cannot summon the power to free herself from them, and so is stuck in this situation.

The thought of being his unwilling actress from then on made her sick to her stomach. Yet, the fires of love still burned no matter what he has done to her, what he will do to her.

Perhaps she is just as crazy as Louis. Perhaps her frustration is just out of the fact that he had this idea first. Perhaps, just like him, she also craves the security of knowing that she will not be losing anyone else.

“But they are a symbol of my love for you. How could I possibly dismiss them in such a way?” His bottom lip trembled at the thought of not being bound to her, of not having she always within reach. “You do not like it?”

She fumbled over her words. The way he pleaded with her using those green, droopy eyes was beyond disconcerting, easily sapping her confidence with a mere look.

“I... I appreciate it, my love, but I am not g-going anywhere. Please, there is no need for them...”

Alear hoped that he does not hear the lie in her words, about the fact that she appreciated the act, but he seemed far more enthralled with running his fingers over the metal handcuffs and her hands, the coldness a stark contrast to her blissfully warm skin. Her skin was always unblemished, always soft and comfortable, regardless of the conditions they faced. She always looked like a blessing, flushed and alive, even in the biting winds of Elusia, even before the chilling darkness of the Fell Dragon.

She always felt like a blessing, and Louis has always loved that mystical aspect about her. Whereas he was as cold as the dead he often hauled in his cart of the fallen, as empty and meaningless as the corpses that once belonged to those he loved, she is still alive, always alive, still idyllically warm and meek.

He simply wanted to protect that fragile humanity, he needed to protect the last kindling of heat in this world. It hurt that she could not seem to understand that.

“Do not take me for a fool, as I certainly am not one. What you seem to miss, however, is that I love you with so much of my heart that I find myself with no other choice. I trust you not to flee, but I must be assured no-one is coming to take you away from me, and the only way to do such thing is to keep you by my side at all times.” He managed a guileless smile that unknowingly sent her heart into conflict. “The very instant I saw you, my heart compelled me to be at your service. I exist to protect you. Ask me anything, and I will see it done, but do not ask me to forsake you in that manner.”

Bringing one bound hand upward, his curled lips delicately pressed against her skin in an ardent and chaste kiss. His words made her heart flutter. Never had someone loved her so wholly, so fervently and reverently that it made her soul sing. There was no deceit in his words, the slight sheen of his teary eyes was proof enough.

“But...” She started, protests nearly dying on her lips. “Is this really l-love? Love is freedom, love is choice. Moreso, love is about being vulnerable, too. It is natural for you to fear my demise, as much as I fear yours, but you must not let this fear control you.”

She turned her hand around, allowing her fingers to tenderly caress his jawline and reddened cheeks. He seemed to relax against her touch, but a tense darkness still lingered in his eyes.

Louis hummed in thoughtful contentment and needily rubbed his cheek against her warm touch like a frightened rabbit. Her heart pounded against her rib cage with both love and fearfulness.

“But is love truly such a tender thing?” 

He broke the heavy silence in almost a daze. His voice was bereft and distraught with reflection. Her stomach did flips as he took each finger between his slightly cold lips, laying gentle, individual kisses upon each one, before continuing.

“You might have a thousand years on me, Divine Dragon, but, of love, I have a lifetime of experience over you. Love is much too rough, too malapert, too boisterous...” He briefly trailed off.  “And it pricks like a thorny bush, a lesson that I have learned the hard way. But I will happily bleed for you.”

Louis laid a final kiss on her lips, taking a moment to savour her warmth, something he will be without for a long while. Alear wanted to cry and beg him to release her, now knowing that discussing her freedom philosophically was fruitless, but the look of sheer adoration in his eyes once again gave her pause.

“I will never allow you to leave me, my love.”

*_*_*_*_*

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