#but like…. that’s me when I could dye my hair without getting fired

[ambulatoryhoodie]

Just found out Monster Camp plagiarized my image

Beautiful Glitch, I’m demanding compensation for use of my image and name in your game.

[soft-girl-musings]

Salt & Pepper

Moon Knight System x GN!Reader

cross-posted to ao3

tags: rated T for teasing, domestic fluff, author does not condone touching people's hair without permission, no use of Y/N

wc: 1,078

fic summary: Marc, are you familiar with the term "silver fox"?

A/N: i might have a problem lol

_____________________

“Put. It. Down.”

Marc Spector does not startle easily. So when he nearly falls from his perch beside the bathtub, you’re surprised you have to steady him.

“Jesus, where’s the fire?” Marc picks up the towel and small cardboard box he’d dropped because of your outburst.

Shifting your focus, you zero in on the latter: hair dye, just as you’d suspected.

“So this is what you get up to when I’m away?” You tut, cradling his temples and shaking your head. "What happened to you?" 

"What? Nothing, I'm-"

"-I wasn't talking to you," you sigh, resting your forehead against the crown of his head. "How long has he been treating you like this, you poor things?"

“Ha-ha.”

You release his face to study it. "But seriously, how long have you been dying your hair?”

 “... For a couple of years. Started to turn gray from stress a while back, and I guess it never stopped.” He fidgets with the loose edge of the container.. “You really never noticed?”

You take the box and set it beside him. “You hid it well.”

You’re not judging him for dying his hair, it’s just… surprising. Marc’s never been one to fuss over his appearance, as far as you could tell. When you first saw his closet, you’d half expected it to be lined with the same outfit ten times, like in a cartoon. Most days, “dressing up” means adding a jacket or blazer.

 “Since when do you care? About your hair, I mean.” 

He shrugs. “I’m not gettin’ any younger, honey.”

“Neither am I.” You kiss the bridge of his nose. “You got a problem with that?”

“Of course not.”

“Good. Goes double for me, don’t you forget it.” Leaning in, Marc tries for another kiss, but you duck and grab the hair dye before turning away with a mischievous smirk.

“Gotta keep you honest,” you wink and dart out of the room before he can catch you.

_____________________

"Love?"

"Hm?"

"Might fall out if you keep playing with it like that.”

You’d been standing behind Steven for the past couple of minutes, meaning to check in on his preparations for his morning tour but had gotten distracted. Very distracted.

“Sorry,” you sigh, your fingers leaving the wisps of hair at the nape of his neck and trailing down to his shoulder. “It’s just… hm.”

Your conversation with Marc must have taken root: over the past few weeks, you’ve noticed the hair that had been dangerously close to another round of boxed dye abuse steadily turning lighter. A subtle blend of silver strands mix with the darker curls that frame his face, making his hair shine a bit brighter in the light of the desk lamp.

“It’s like starlight,” you finally state, leaning in to rest your head against his.

Steven sputters and puts his book aside. “Starli- that’s a bit much, yeah?” His brow furrows, but there’s no denying the smile tugging at his lips.

“Not if it’s true,” you contend. You adjust the reading glasses that had slid down his face and tuck a stray curl behind his ear. “It’s a good look on you.”

There’s no denying the heat rising to his cheeks when you talk. “This– you don’t–” Steven caves and sets his book down, hopelessly flustered. “Either go away or get over here. Cheeky.”

He makes room for you to settle into his lap, which you giddily accept. Your hands sink back into his curls and he shivers as you scratch his scalp.

“Did I ever tell you I had a thing for my professor, once upon a time?”

“Oh my days–” 

You’re not sure who kisses who, but you’re certainly not complaining. Neither is he.

_____________________

The time apart has been agony.

You check your phone for the fifth time this evening. They’ve been gone for what feels like months (it’s been weeks) handling some business in California, of all places. Marc said he’d call when they were on their way home, meaning no news is sad news.

You’re pulled from your pity party by a knock on the door. It’s late, and you’ve already signed for your dinner delivery. Slowly, you get up and grab the bat you keep by the entrance (with a sock slipped over the end per Jake’s advice).

The knocking continues, getting more urgent. You take a deep breath and look through the peephole. A large brown eye stares back and you yelp, dropping your bat. The unmistakable boom of Jake’s belly laughter mocks you from behind the door.

“You’re hilarious,” you groan, standing the bat back on its head and unlocking the door.

You’re ready to lay into him when you open the door, but you’re stunned into silence. Jake’s smile is highlighted by silvery stubble, dusted with black. He adjusts his cap as his dark eyebrows raise in mock surprise.

“What, no hello?”

You tear your eyes away from his jaw. “Hm? Oh. Hi.” You open the door wider for him to step in. “Marc said you’d call first.”

“No fun in that, is there? Besides, you looked ready to handle some trouble.” he shrugs off his coat as you lock the door behind him.

“Trouble, yes. Nuisance, debatable.” You sidle up to him and drape your arms around his waist. You place a kiss on his cheek; it’d be impossible for him to not notice how you let yours drag along the rough line of his jaw.

“I missed you too,” he laughs again. “But man, is it warm in here…”

He tosses his cap and it takes everything in him to not lose it when your eyes widen at the sight of his hair, now more gray than black and curls longer than you’ve seen them before. You’re too enraptured to be embarrassed at your obvious loss for words.

“Your hair…” You reach up to touch it, but Jake grabs your wrist.

“Tsk, tsk, you threaten and barely say a word to me, then go straight for the goods without so much as a ‘please’? What happened to decorum, hm?”

“You fucking tease,” you huff. “...please?”

“Well, since you asked nicely–” Jake can barely finish his thought before your lips are on his, your hand tangled in his starlit hair as soon as he lets go.

“I take it we should cancel Marc’s haircut?” he murmurs as you catch your breath.

Your free hand grazes the scruff on his cheek and you grin. “I wouldn’t complain if you did.”

_____________________

A/N: marvel you cowards give us gray-haired moon knight

ty for reading <3

event tags:@moonknight-events @spacecowboyhotch @juneknight

addtl tags: @mrs-lockley @lunar-ghoulie @shadystarlightgentlemen @casa-boiardi @nerdieforpedro @queerponcho (lmk if you'd like to be added to/removed from this wee tag list)

[14dayswithyou]

TEO MY HUSBAND I MISSED YOU BOOKIE BEAR!!! 🩵🩵🩵

Could I have some college content with me Angel and Teo? Mayhaps in the campus library doing work and he’s trying to be distracting?

WARNING... minors/ageless blogs: do not interact. please read my pinned post before you send in anything !!

Rosie I'm STILL IN THE ROOM!!!!!!! 🧍‍♀️

Not proofreadin this you already know what's up!!! 💗

"Hey. Pay attention to me."

You try your best to ignore the way Teo pokes and prods at your cheek with the blunt end of your pencil, before he seemingly grows bored of the action and moves on to idly flipping through the pages of the book in front of you instead. 

"Where's Jae?" Without looking, you shoot him a question. "Shouldn't you be bothering him instead of me?"

"He's busy helping his dormmate dye its hair again." Teo's fingers move from the pages and drift towards your free hand instead. "...You should let me dye yours as well. Wouldn't that be fun?"

"..." You pull your hand away from his and flip the page, "No."

"C'mon. What's it gonna take for you to pull that stick out of your ass and get your nose outta those books? I'm bored."

"Teo," You sighed deeply, "I need to study for my finals. You know I can't afford to fail this term."

"That's all?" You could practically hear him scoff. "Don't worry that pretty little head of yours, starshine; your professors are a bunch of fuckin' chumps. One word from me and they'll give you whatever grade you want. Now, c'mon." 

Teo nudges your arm to goad you into packing up your belongings and leaving with him, yet you don't seem to move. "...Seriously?"

You send the dark-haired male a pointed look before returning to your papers once more. Although annoyingly, he takes that as an invitation to scoot closer and lean in dangerously close to your ear.

"...I'll take my shirt off if you don't move."

No response.

"Pants, too."

If he wanted to get kicked out of the campus library for public indecency, that was on him.

"I'll pull the fire alarm."

That almost gets a twitch out of you — knowing fully well that the muscular man beside you was definitely the type of guy who'd do such a thing — but he's been acting more... compliant lately, and you didn't dare ask why.

"...Fine. Suit yourself."

Although you can't see Teo from your peripheral vision, you can hear him slouch back into the chair with a heavy sigh, before he pulls out his phone and obnoxiously starts typing away.

It was certainly odd to have him linger quietly by your side like this — normally, when Teo got sick of something, he'd toss whatever it was aside and find something more entertaining to do instead. So this... This certainly wasn't what you were expecting.

You had half a mind to ask if Teo would oh-so-kindly switch his phone to silent if he wanted to text that loudly, but you decided it was best not to waste time on trivial things. Your cheat sheet wasn't going to revise itself, so you instead focused your attention back to the words in front of you and tried to shut the annoying guy out.

But Teo certainly made things difficult when he absentmindedly threw an arm over the back of your chair and leaned closer to your side. You could practically feel the heat from his thigh as he brushes them up against yours — and if you weren't so hellbent on shutting his presence out — you would've noticed the subtle scent of his cologne wafting in your direction.

Old money, luxury, and the faintest hint of smoke.

Your eyebrows twitch at the audible ding! of his phone, indicating that he must've gotten a text from someone. You pretend not to notice how he lets out a puff of laughter at whatever is on his screen... Obviously, he was trying to bait you into looking in his direction to see what was so funny — but upon realising that it wasn't working — he goes back to typing something instead.

But once he's done, Teo decides to throw his phone onto the table instead of shoving it into his pocket like usual. His screen stays lit for a few more seconds before it fades to black, but you were quick enough to catch a glimpse of his lock screen before it was gone.

There, for anyone to see, was a picture of you: with your arms resting on the table as you focussed on the textbooks laid out in front of you — with a soft look of concentration on your face.

[be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie]

Time travel, it's a funny thing really, even funnier when you take in account all the different interpretations of its inner workings. So, what if we take out boy Spider, and put him in yet another ridiculous situation like we usually do? By that I mean sending him back before even the events of the first film and letting the chaos ensue.

Spider being, well, himself wants to fix whatever he can because he's just built like that. Problem with that is time doesn't like being messed with and will throw hands to keep things as they are. What now? you may ask. Well, Spider is not one to give up easily, he'll roll up his non existing sleeves, put on his game face and.... fail miserably, dyeing a horrible death in the process.

And what now? you may ask again. You're right to be confused, but you're forgetting that there's still a baby to be born to one of the worst of the demons and a pilot, one who is yet to even be called Spider. That's right, this is a time loop.

This one will live trough life, doing the same things as the first one, getting sent back, until he too fails the same way. Then the next one, and the one after that, will do the same, on and on until, eventually, one decides to leave behind a clue for his (future/present/past?) self, just in case. And the dominoes start falling from there.

I won't go into detail of what he does because it would be way to long, but it's basically millions upon millions of tries until he get's to the "golden" run, where he's basically herding people around into "safe spots" without them knowing. Yes, he did throw a fire extinguisher at Quaritch so he would miss Grace's vitals, she still had to transfer but it worked this time (thus Kiri being born, but with her bio mom being alive and well. I leave the rest to your imagination.)

That leaves us with pretty much everyone alive (Yes, Sylwanin is alive. That's how far back he went) and casualties on the human side being kept to a minimum.

All anyone clearly saw of future Spider was the human stranger with dreaded hair, standing over Quaritch's dead body right outside the shack Jake was in ( kinda dark, I know), leading to him becoming kind of his own legend amongst the na'vi (they do figure out he's been helping them all along, their not dumb) This is also why Jake decided to dread his hair, in honor of the stranger who was saving their asses from the background.

Sadly, Spider does die one final time, sufferings from an injury he got while saving Tsu'tey from doing that funny fall. That does fix the paradox of there being two Spiders sooo, win I guess?

After that, everything goes on as normal as it can be, what with everyone being alive and all. They do eventually find the clues left behind by the MANY Spiders and piece together what happened, they don't believe it at first, but all of that, combined with Spider growing up and becoming a spiting image of the stranger leaves them with little else (Imagine learning that your sister, father and a bunch of other important people to you are still alive only because the boy you hate for being the "Spawn of that demon" was sent back in time countless times, died countless deaths, all so everyone else could have a happier life, couldn't be me)

I'm also imagining that Eywa (She's more like a literal goddess here, not full on cosmic being, but enough to see trough time) saw all of it and at the half way point was like "PLEASE STOP! Even one was enough, just please!" all the while the embodiment of Spider's will was cackling like a gremlin " I ain't even half way done!"

Best of all, Miguel O'Hara can't do shit about it (The time loop is a cannon event)

So yeah, that's my thingy to you, a bit long (sorry!) but it is there.

Ooh, well I haven't seen a Spider time travel fic yet, only ones with the other Sully's or with the people from the first movie coming forward in time.

I do loooove a time loop, it's like a little mystery to figure out exactly how the perfect series of events can pan out. I love that Quaritch still dies though, that makes me happy. Spider of COURSE had to throw a fire extinguisher.

I am fascinated by how lonely his time in the past must have been. Especially if he was still a teenage boy. And if he went back as far as saving Sylwanin, dude was like so fucking old by the time they made it to the end there. He was older than Neytiri then so his ass was like nearing the end of middle aged. His bones are creaking their way around the forest. Where did he fucking live, how did he have the supplies to breathe and care for his human needs, how did no one notice him for like forty years?? So many questions.

Also hilarious to imply Eywa had nothing at all to do with this and was just watching.

[zukkaoru]

"Lay your head on my shoulder and try to sleep." for any ship u feel like! <3

have some uhhh [spins wheel] pre-relationship kunidazai! post-doa arc with a mention of kunikida having hand tremors bc asagiri was a coward to take his hands away and then give them back without any consequences

warnings: referenced bsd-typical violence & guns word count: 1046

.

There was a very logical and predictable series of events that led to Dazai and Kunikida sitting in an otherwise-empty waiting room while Kyouka is in surgery. If Dazai had paused for a second to think things through, it could have even been prevented. But he hadn’t, and Kyouka got shot while out on a case that she was only called in for because Kenji had to make a trip home for a wedding, and Yosano is in Kumamoto on a case with Ranpo because they prefer traveling long distances with her as opposed to any of the other Agency members.

Dazai could have insisted Kunikida go with Ranpo, or he could have gone with Ranpo himself. He could have suggested Atsushi fill in for Kenji rather than Kyouka. He should have warned Kunikida that they guy they were after would have a hidden gun, but he expected Kunikida would figure that out himself. He hadn’t factored in Kunikida devoting more attention to whether or not Kyouka was harmed, since she doesn’t have Kenji’s super strength, because he assumed Demon Snow would work well enough as a bodyguard in Kunikida’s mind. But Demon Snow was fighting another ability user and in the split second Kunikida turned to ensure Kyouka was holding up on her own, their enemy pulled his second gun and fired.

Dazai should have been able to stop it.

Instead, he got a call from a frantic Kunikida, giving no more information than the hospital where they were taking Kyouka and what sounded like the beginnings of a panic attack before Kunikida promptly hung up the phone.

He was pacing around the waiting room when Dazai arrived. He plopped himself into a chair and waited silently, until an hour had passed and Kunikida was still anxiously pacing, at which point Dazai decided it was time to intervene. He managed to coax Kunikida into a chair, but he’s still bouncing his leg and twisting his fingers together and periodically pulling his notebook from his pocket just to mindlessly flip through the pages.

“She’s going to be okay,” Dazai says. He doesn’t know for sure, but he says it like he does because Kunikida always believes him when he speaks with such certainty.

Kunikida sighs deeply. His leg starts bouncing faster. His hands are shaking even worse than usual—something that happens when he’s stressed or anxious. He doesn’t say anything in response, which is unlike him.

Dazai purses his lips. He doesn’t like being expected to comfort people, because he isn’t good at it. He doesn’t understand what is wanted from him, and he always seems to say the wrong words. But seeing Kunikida like this is so unnerving that he has to try something.

“Kunikida-kun,” he says, as gently as he can manage, “worrying won’t help.”

“I know,” Kunikida responds tersely.

“Kyouka-chan would want you to get some rest,” he tries.

Kunikida ignores him.

Dazai is running out of things to say. His eyes roam over Kunikida, searching for another option, and his eyes settle on the loose strands of hair that have fallen from his ponytail. Actions speak louder than words, right?

“Turn your back to me,” Dazai instructs.

Kunikida just looks at him warily.

“C’mon,” Dazai grins. “Don’t you trust me?”

“I do not,” Kunikida tells him, but he turns his back to Dazai anyway. Dazai loosens the hair tie, then pulls it from Kunikida’s hair. Kunikida makes a vaguely disgruntled noise in the back of his throat, but he doesn’t start yelling, so Dazai will take that as a victory.

Dazai runs his fingers through Kunikida’s hair, detangling it as best as he can without a brush or comb. Kunikida’s hair is thin, almost silky despite the bleach and dye hiding his natural hair color. Dazai doesn’t know why he chose to color his hair blonde, but trying to picture Kunikida as a brunet is even worse than questioning his life choices.

Dazai spends longer than necessary just letting the soft strands fall through his fingers, reveling in the feeling of it. It’s a strange sort of vulnerability, requiring far more sacrifice on Kunikida’s part than on Dazai’s. It’s the only sort of intimacy they’re good at.

But Dazai is not the sort of person who can grab hold of nice things and keep them, and Kunikida could never want someone like him. So he gathers Kunikida’s hair into one hand, and ties it back up into its typical style, then draws his hands back towards himself.

Kunikida lets out another sigh, but this one is significantly less stressed. If Dazai didn’t know better, he’d almost say it sounded fond.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

Dazai hums noncommittally. “It’s late,” he notes, because it was past sunset when he got the call and Kyouka’s been in surgery for hours. “You should get some rest.”

Kunikida turns to face him. “What about you?”

“I wasn’t the one on a case this evening,” Dazai points out. “C’mon, just lean your head on my shoulder and try to sleep. I’ve heard human contact helps calm your nerves.”

Kunikida looks skeptical, even though Dazai is about 95% sure that one is true.

“I’ll wake you if they come with news about Kyouka-chan,” Dazai promises.

Kunikida relents. He lays his head on Dazai’s shoulder, and only then does Dazai realize this may have been a very, very, bad idea for him. Because Kunikida is just using him as a pillow, and Kunikida thinks he’s just trying to be a good friend. But Dazai wants something else—something Kunikida will never give him—and now he’s getting a taste of the thing he craves so desperately he’d tear his own heart from his chest in order to get it, knowing it will never be his.

But Kunikida does finally fall asleep, even though he should have no reason to trust Dazai like this. Dazai removes his glasses and sets them on the empty seat beside him. He runs his fingers through Kunikida’s hair once more and whispers a, “Sleep well,” he knows will go unheard.

Dazai wants this to be something he can hold onto forever, but forever is not a thing he is capable of, so he’ll be content with having Kunikida in his arms for just this one moment.

[corruptive-sinner]

Rough Time

Warning CnC

non-consensual drug use too

but the priest is so highkey into and this is fantasy, you little sinner 😘

Smog filled the air, thick skunky clouds filled the room the priest sat. it was long after hours and no one was here this time at night besides him. Still in my "Sunday best" I would say too.

~A mouth watering sight to a certain demon. unbeknownst to the priest.

I let out a cough, both in shock and the sudden lack of clean air, the basement office had always been a stuffy place without the sudden smoke. Had the church been burning?

I get up to escape when a firm object stops me, slamming into my chest, flat like someone had held out a hand. I stumble back falling down, fear and confusion clouding my already scattered mind.

A presence enters through the smoke, starting out as a cloudy black blob, two long protrusions seen sticking out of its head, but when it steps through it appears a regular human, with blackened eyes staring down at me, a masculine person smiling wickedly.

I freeze, looking up, helpless. Praying for God to save me, give me strength to battle this demon.

"Calm down Father, there's no fire. Just something to calm your nerves," he says, smoke escaping out of his mouth as he does. Leans down, grabs my shirt and yanks me upwards, "you're cute when your scared, Father~"

I struggle and he releases instantly, I am pinned against my desk, he blocks the door, the door I can't even see if its open or not, the lights dimming and flickering from his presence. he strides forward. A smooth confidence, I asses his features,

A shorter man than I previously thought, I only 5'9 he seemed 5'6ish, but strong, as proved seconds ago. His hair is a vibrant red, one on a normal day would assume dye of some sort, but demons can look like anything I have been taught. He normal fine clothes, wait-

I know him, he was here today,

"There you go, you remember me." He smiled, closing the gap between us and pressing my hips to his. Those same black denim pants topped with a black shirt and dark flannel made him blend in perfectly around these parts of town.

I didn't fight him. This didn't feel wrong, and that doesn't feel right but,

"That's right, deep breathes, hehe,"

I couldn't help but breathe in the smoke, burning my lungs. Making me cough painfully. As quick as I felt panic I relaxed, the pain dulled, it got easier to just breathe again.

Oh, it's weed, that disgusting aroma should have tipped me off. I also smelled it vaguely on him, earlier after the sermon, he leaned in and said

"You're handsome for a sheep."

I hadn't understood, but now, his leg inching mine apart, the world getting fuzzy, a giggle comes from my throat.

He looks at me, with those haunting eyes he has. He was quite handsome, it made me completely disregard any threat, i blamed old nerves from when I was a teen. Sneaking out to kiss the boys in our boarding home. Someone brought weed once, I always wished I had just tried it. It is as nice as they said.

"Relaxed yet?"

"Mhm, you're handsome,"

"As are you, so proud and pretty like a bird doing a mating dance, maybe you're an angel eh? Hehe." He inched his face closer to mine, I could almost feel his stubble. His strong hands planted me against my desk, pinned, like prey. I should be scared, fighting back, but like the boys said back then, just blame the weed. Maybe I will.

I leaned down to bridge the gap, capturing his lips, desperately pushing against his strong body. He pushed me back against the desk roughly. I let out the smallest moan but he hears it,

"Atta boy, enjoying yourself aren't you?" He breathed into my ear, low and gravelly.

My blood was hot, my head was clouds. My dick was painfully constricted to my pants. I could feel the precum gathering from the tip. I moaned into his shoulder when his hand grazed the front of my pants.

"Someone feeling a little neglected? Just let me take care of you." he says that like I have any choice, I don't need a choice, i want him to do whatever he wants to me.

"Good Father," he moans into my ear as his hands slip into my pants freeing my dick. The sudden colder air and rough hand makes me jerk primitively.

"Calm down, there's no need to rush, we have all night~"

That thought makes me moan, he just laughs slightly, giving me a tender kiss as he begins pumping his hand, I white knuckle the table to contain myself, to last at least a few minutes.

His togue prods my lips and I let him in instantly, he's rough but gives my opportunities to explore him as well, I take those with full vigor feeling his fangs with my tongue. Becoming a moaning mess in the process when I taste some of my own blood.

My garbled mind straining to form thoughts besides this overwhelming pleasure radiating throughout my body, his hand providing a steady firm rhythm, his tongue in my mouth, his other hand sinking claws into my waist as he holds me.

His hand releases and I whine pathetically for it to return,

"Easy Father," He whispers giving a final kiss before lowering to his knees, a devilish smirk giving me a jolt. He takes my member and licks whorishly at the head, collecting a large amount of precum on his tongue, showing me before taking the rest smoothly down.

I can't pretend to hold back my moans, his horns grow from the smog and I take them to hold. They feel like somewhat smoother goats horns I note, but anything more coherent would not return to me until much later. I was lost in pleasure.

The demon's mouth was hot, wet, and though he had fangs I never felt them until he teased me by grazing them on the sensitive spots he discovered by judging the intensity of my moans. Just as I began to edge closer to finishing he abruptly pulled away.

I whimper pathetically at him. He just laughs, again. Mocking asshole. He's the one who wants this, me.

The demon stands up, twits me arounds and slams me onto my own desk, the breathe knocked out of me, but instead of pain it'd all numb tingling throughout my body. My pants are inched down and the realization of what he's about to do makes me moan like a real whore.

"I knew you had it in you~" He chides leaning down on top of me, whispering in my ear.

My bare ass felt exposed, there was a pressure in my, rear. And I don't hate it, that thought should disgust me, but I've never felt so good or wanted something so bad. He pushed slowly inside of me, the tingling was intense but all I could do was moan. Fuck I want him to start moving.

"Eager are we? Alright." he says as he bottoms me out, a shrill gagged moan escaped me. and before I could adjust he started pumping in and out at a steady, unrelenting pace. I was overfilled with pleasure it made my head ring, blocking out most noises to a faint dull, just focusing on the pleasure and getting lost being used like this. My climax came creeping up again, he started pumping faster, the movement making my old desk creak with the strain of both our bodies. The heat of his body pressing into mine as he came in me pushed me over the edge, it burned in a way I never wanted to end.

He slowly pulled out, I'm still leaned over my desk as I hear him redress.

"Lets do this again sometime, Father."

And with that the strange demon, and his smoke, and the effects of the smoke are gone. The slow sobering mixed with the cooling cum, but shame heating up my chest. But, I will be looking for him in my next sermon.

[bisheepart]

Various Incorrect Quotes

Because I'm having too much fun with these

Gregory: I'm the kind of person who likes to think things through.

Cassie: Since when? I once saw you eat a marshmallow that was still on fire.

-------

Michael: Why do you two look so mad?

Simon (Freddy Mask Bully): Sit down and we'll tell you.

Michael: *sits down*

James (Chica Mask Bully): This bench is freshly painted.

-------

*Cassidy, Evan, Gregory and Cassie being friends*

Evan: I should probably get home.

Cassidy: Nope, we've already got plans to get Canadians to kidnap you so we can adopt you as our brother.

Evan:... Canadians?

Gregory: It worked with Cassie!

Cassie, deadpan: Run, it's how I got stuck with these two.

*Context: Inside Joke between me, my boyfriend, and his family about Canadian Kidnappers*

-------

Gregory: Freddy took the wheels out of my heelies because they were "unsafe." Now I have to walk down the halls like a common wench, and I am livid!

-------

Charlie/Puppet, to Cassidy and Evan/Golden Duo.: You know what true strength is? Forgiving a person who isn't even sorry.

Golden Duo: We'd rather be springlocked.

-------

Evan: Just once, I'd like to get out of bed without going through the seven stages of grief.

Sammy: What are the extra two?

Evan: Denial 2 and astral projection.

-------

Cassidy, to the MC: Alright, listen up you idiots.

Cassidy, to Evan: Not you Evan. You're an angel and we're glad you're here.

-------

Cassie: So, you're my first real friend?

Gregory: It would seem so.

Cassie: Wow....

Cassie:... I've never been so afraid of a friend before.

-------

Gregory:... What are you doing?

Cassie, putting blue glitter eyeshadow from a children's Cinderella makeup kit on Vanessa's eyelids while she sleeps:... Makeup practice.

Gregory:... Can I help?

Cassie: Yes

-------

Jeremy: Good responses for getting stabbed with a knife?

Gabriel: Rude

Fritz: That's fair

Susie; Not again

Cassidy: Are you going to want this back or can I have it?

-------

*Alive AU*

Teen Elizabeth, to Evan: Do you think dad is going to notice I dyed my hair?

Teen Evan, looking at the bathroom completely covered in hair dye:... Probably.

-------

Evan: People ask me how I got Cassidy to be friends with me. I didn't, they just picked me up like a kitten and I've been stuck with them ever since. Not that I mind.

-------

*Alive AU*

Charlie: What's an understudy?

Jessica: It's like a backup actor. So if you get sick or something, they take your place in the play.

Elizabeth: Yeah, or if you go missing, or get hit by a bus!

-------

Mark (Bonnie Mask): Did you know that you could use a crayon as a candle? In an emergency, one will burn for thirty minutes.

Simon (Freddy mask): How long does it burn if it isn't an emergency?

Michael: What does a crayon even consider an emergency?

James (Chica Mask): I think being on fire is what a crayon would consider an emergency.

Michael: Everyone considers that an emergency!

-------

Susie: The floor is lava!

Cassidy:*helps Evan onto the counter*

Fritz:*kicks Jeremy off the sofa*

Charlie:*laying face down on the floor*

Gabriel:... Are you okay?

Charlie: No.

-------

Fritz: So, did everyone learn their lesson?

Susie: No

Jeremy: I did not.

Cassidy: I may have forgotten one.

Gabriel: Also no.

Fritz: Oh good, neither did I!

Charlie: *long suffering sigh*

-------

Cassie: Bye Roxy! Bye Gregory! Bye Freddy! Bye Vanessa! Bye Roxy!

Gregory: You said "Bye Roxy" twice.

Cassie: I like Roxy.

-------

Gregory: Arson? Oh, you mean Crime Brulee.

Cassie: no, no we mean arson.

Michael, possessing Glam Freddy: Crime Brulee.

-------

Elizabeth: We have fun! Right Evan?

Evan: I've never been more stressed out in my entire life.

-------

William: One day, we're going to look back on this and laugh!

Henry: I promise, every time I think of this moment, I'm going to come to your house and punch you in the face.

[sevicia]

Writer Guy's only "friend" who sucks majorly. Notes under da cut. Heart.

Firstly ☝️ he's heavily inspired by the experience of having someone follow you around even after you have told them very explicitly to stop doing so. Writer Guy will look him dead in the eye and say "I don't care about anything you have to say. Leave me alone, you annoy the shit outta me", and he'll just go "Bro you're always so funny LOL I'm probably the only one that gets ur sense of humor. Anyways, about my new podcast idea..."

This guy's deal is that he's obsessed with others' perception of him. He's an aspiring influencer and can't decide between being a youtuber, a streamer, or having a podcast. He's into crypto and defends NFTs like it's his job.

He met Writer Guy in college and has stuck to him like a leech ever since, even though they only had a few classes together. His reasoning was that Writer Guy seemed like the lone-wolf type and thus would attract attention with his ~mysterious~ charm, when in reality he was so boring that no one really paid him any mind. If you ask any of their ex-classmates, you'll find that no one really remembers either of them.

He spends a lot of time in r/shortguys and gets frustrated that he can't relate to the whole "women only ever pay attention to tall guys and we manlets are all martyrs" thing cause he's never even tried to get with a girl (he will lie about this). He's gay as hell but in almost complete denial. Genuinely believes stuff like "it's not gay with the socks on".

Unserious images that remind me of him:

I also gotta mention that his role in Mary and Writer Guy's story is very, very minimal, and that he never actually meets Mary. His story is a typical yaoi one where he falls in love with some guy and has one of those cliché "I'm not gay... why do I feel like this towards another man ?!?!!" moments. I chose to do it this way cuz I think it's funny as fuck to have him experience a romcom type thing while Writer Guy is basically Spongebob in the Silent Hill corridor.

I admit I'm not 100% sold on his hair, but it's brown for sure. Why? It just makes sense.

Some design notes including the other two:

Writer Guy is generally apathetic and would be considered boring at a surface level by 99,9% of the population. He teaches philosophy (ethics, specifically) at the college Mary attends, though they weren't aware of each other before The Events. His lectures are notoriously boring and many of his students sleep thru class or just skip them completely, but he passes them all anyways.

He's a writer in his spare time and writes trashy extreme horror on his (anonymous) blog, which is how Mary becomes aware of him. Stuff happens, his superiors (who are at best ambivalent towards him) find out about his hobby, he gets fired and doesn't care enough to defend himself or to raise any concerns about the school's attitude towards its teachers' private lives.

I also forgot to include his "On" design in the above pic, so here, a comparison:

I'm very obviously still figuring out how to draw him, but the drawing on the right is what he looks like at work. Just plain dorky and someone you would not look twice at.

I would also talk about his relationship with Mary, but for that I'd need to talk about Mary first, which I can't do rn cuz this post is already long enough and it's nearing 3 AM and she makes me absolutely BONKERS insane to the point I barely even know where to start when I wanna talk about her.

She's the only OC I have ever made a playlist for. I wish she was someone else's character so I could look at her without having to do the work myself.

A little fun fact about her is she used to dye her hair black before The Events. All I got for you rn.

OK that's all from me. For neoww...... Muah!

[deadbeatbirdmom]

What do you think of winter

The season? It's more difficult for my tribe. Resources can be harder to come by, especially if merchants don't travel. If there's snow on the ground, my tribe have to be careful to avoid leaving tracks back to the camp. That goes for other seasons too, but it's most obvious in snow.

If you mean the Winter Maiden who seems to have been named for her 'destiny' then I suppose she could be worse. She still has a stick up her ass, but Qrow tells me it used to be much longer.

She's a skilled fighter, I'll give her that much. I could take her if I had to, but I'm aware that Salem would love it if Spring and Winter fought. For the time being I need to work with Winter.

Theoretically we could make short work of Cinder together. The problem is actually spending enough time together to learn how to fight as a team without friendly fire. We're both very busy, and we get on each other's nerves. It's a fact of life that Schnees and Branwens can't get along.

I wonder if she knows I intended to ransom her sister. It might explain why there's some hostility on her side, but it might just be her general disapproval of the Branwen tribe and my leadership of it.

That and/or she doesn't like that I'm taller than her. No, I don't include her heels in her height, and I'd still be a little taller even if I did.

Someone should tell her white is a terrible choice for clothing, and she could do with dyeing her hair too. White shows blood and dirt like nothing else. Not that Summer ever listened to me either when it came to her cloak, and Winter's about as likely to take my advice.

Winter the Winter Maiden...

Why wasn't Summer the Summer Maiden? Was I supposed to change one of my names to fit with being Spring Maiden? That's what Cinder did, and it's pretentious. I wonder if Winter always had that first name...

What does the human behind this sideblog think of Winter?

I think Winter is an interesting character, and I like her a lot. She's a reminder of what Weiss could have turned out like if she'd been forced to turn to the Atlesian military to escape Jacques, but Winter has also come a long way from the blindly loyal perfect weapon Ironwood tried to forge her into, thanks in large part to Penny's friendship, but also to Winter's attachment to Weiss as well.

I have a very bad feeling that Penny's last gift to Winter might end up dooming her. Passing on the Winter Maiden mantle to Winter saved her life when Ironwood was about to kill her, but I fear Winter is living on borrowed time. Maidens in general don't have the best record in terms of life expectancy. Fria was an outlier and shouldn't be counted, she's Maidens Georg.

I guess Raven's been Spring Maiden for a fair few years by now, as she presumably acquired those powers before she hit 30, and she's uhhh 40 something now? How old is Raven? Anyway this question is about Winter, not Raven. Shoo, deadbeat birdmom. Although Raven is likely on borrowed time just like Winter. If they both survive the completion of RWBY I'll be amazed, and relieved.

[littlewormgrant]

The Magicians: When the Fire Goes Out

I realized, I don't think I've ever shared this old fic on here. It's my most liked and bookmarked fic on AO3. Has a special place in my heart as one of my favorites to write. I have the biggest soft spot for the lil family vibes that it had going on. AND IT HAS A SONG. So yeah, enjoy! 🔥

Pairing: Quentin Coldwater x Eliot Waugh (MxM)

Summary: Eliot stopped and scooped up the little boy to rest him on his hip in one arm. He was starting to get just a little too big for being carried and Eliot knew there would come a day they wouldn’t be able to pick him up anymore. But that day wasn’t going to be it. Explores the themes of grief, family dynamics, and healthy established relationships. 3.9k words / Canon Compliant / Mosaic Timeline

Get out on your own Be somebody now This came up out of nowhere Guess I gotta go Let’s cut to the chase Stuck in this place for good When I’m with you in here It doesn’t seem so bad Bon Voyage - Arbi, Koethe

---

Eliot should have been relieved to get through another winter in Fillory, the cold was particularly unbearable within their shanty little cabin, but nothing about this coming summer felt right without Arielle.

The community came together, a little more than a dozen people cuddled on logs near the fire in her memory, garnishing the flickered flames with items that held a personal connection to her. She’d passed unexpectedly and they’d held a memorial for her in the village just a few days after burying her.

For Eliot, his personal item to burn came in the form of a long decorative sash. He’d spent too many years arguing with Arielle over differing styles and attempting to impose their tastes over one another. It was their longest conflict.

Arielle had won, obviously, but not entirely because she’d gotten one over him by dying. They’d always joked that would have been the case, and it left a bitter taste in his mouth to think about. He’d genuinely started to like her style.

He thought about Margo constantly and what she might have said or done differently. No one could have ever replaced his Bambi. He missed her more than he’d ever say. But at least Arielle was a good person to be around. He felt he’d become a better person because of her, or at least one not so heavily reliant on alcohol or drugs. She’d been the one to teach him to sew and had shown him how to dye fabrics in colors not even Earth could recreate.

As thanks, he’d make her things she’d have no choice but to wear. Boasting about his taste in fashion and how perfectly it could have worked if they hadn’t been living in the backwards lands of Fillory. The sash had been one of the first things he’d made that she’d actually kept using. She’d told him it was so ugly that it somehow made it cute. He feigned offence and it became one of their longest-running jokes.

Quentin tossed a peach into the fire, it was the only other item he had on him. The other was a small teddy that Arielle had made while pregnant with their first. A little brown Cozy Horse, much too small to be the real deal but it was from one of her favorite Fillorian tales. Too valuable to burn.

The sleeping boy curled up in Q’s lap held the teddy in a vice grip. He hadn’t let it out of his sight ever since she’d gone.

“Why hadn’t more of the world known about her?” Q’s voice was low, too tired to cry anymore, but the raw pain of it was there all the same. Eliot was beside him. He’d been staring off into the fire and watching the fruit simmer and burn.

“I don’t know. Maybe she didn’t want that? Her world was always you and Ted.”

“And you,” Q corrected.

“And me,” he agreed.

Eliot looked back to him and reached out to stroke through the snoozing boy's hair. It was soft and pale in the low light of the flickering flames, as blonde as Arielle's had been. He couldn’t see them now, but he already knew if Ted opened his eyes he’d see splashes of her colors mixed in with those familiar browns.

This was going to be a harder life for the boy without his mother there. Eliot wished he could carry all that pain for him. Leave the burdens of the world on his own shoulders. The boy was too young to fully understand, but he’d soon come to learn she wasn’t coming back. Quentin brought him out of his thoughts when the silence was broken again.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this without her El.”

“Take it one day at a time. Plus, you aren’t going to be doing this alone. Promise you’ll never be alone.”

Quentin leaned on him, Eliot pressed his cheek against the top of his head.

“I wish I could get used to people dying. I never did. I don’t think I want to.”

“Q, can I tell you a secret? For a while, all you’re going to do is float. You’re going to try and stay alive for something other than yourself. And those waves of grief and pain never stop coming, but somehow, you don’t really want them to. They’re a testament to all the love you’ve ever felt and can feel. This pain will pass and the edges of it won’t be as sharp each time it comes back.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

“Well you know me, I’m always right.”

“Not always.”

“Mhm. Okay, not always. Just most of the time.”

Eliot reached out to pat the top of his thigh. They pulled back and shared a sad smile. The conversation between them was overseen by the crackle of the fire raising up when another item was added by someone else. The others returned to their logs. Voices talking amongst each other, low and soft.

Eventually, they all left too. Leaving the quiet grieving family alone with the dying fire. The night was beautifully tragic. Eliot knew he’d always remember this moment, though he wished he wouldn’t. It was one of the more painful highlights of his life.

---

“Ted.” The voice patient but repeating the same thing for the millionth time that day was beginning to wear. Eliot glanced up from his spot in one corner of the mosaic and watched the young boy standing out past the treeline.

His stubborn little body barely visible past the wards and through the bramble and foliage. Quentin hadn’t moved, but he was watching the boy like a hawk.

“Hey, that’s too far and you know that. Stay where we can see you. It’ll be dark soon.”

“No!” Silence, Quentin gave him a second to think about it. Eliot raised an eyebrow and looked to Q, they knew what was coming. Ted was starting up again. “No dada, no!”

The little boy didn’t dare move from the spot he’d been caught in. Glued in place by his father's words. His grip tightened around the long stick he’d been holding, just so he could wave it aggressively in Quentin’s direction. The other arm wrapped protectively around a tattered brown Cozy Horse, holding it close to his chest. He let out a frustrated growl in the process.

Ted had been testing boundaries all day. Getting him to help or play near the tiles for the evening after an eventful dinner was next to impossible. No doubt going to bed would be the same. On days like this he’d get the passing thought of using his magic on him. Arielle would never have approved.

Eliot had watched the buildup happen all day, as much as it killed him not to intervene, he quietly watched on again. It was always a balance between who dealt with what. When Ted was first born Eliot didn’t have the slightest clue of what to do, but all that seemed to come so naturally for Quentin.

“I’m not going to ask again. Move back in the warded area by yourself or I’ll come get you.”

“No! I hate you! No! I wanna go see mama!”

Quentin let out a sigh and moved to get up. In the same moment, Teddy beelined off through the trees at full speed. Eliot shook his head and got up, shaking the dirt and dust from his favorite pillow. Q had already set off with speed into the treeline after the now-screeching toddler.

He moved to another corner of the mosaic where the sunset was always particularly beautiful, through the treeline only the sound of one very unhappy child could be heard. Eliot dropped his pillow beside the pile of others and dropped back down to make himself look busy.

It didn’t take long before a panting Quentin made it out the treeline victorious with a squirming red-faced boy fighting his arms. “NOOO” a sob pitched out loudly from the boy's tiny fighting lungs.

The stick was long gone but the horse remained flung about in his flailing little arms. Ted had decided to wake up and choose violence for the day. Absolutely nothing could please him. He got a pass, he was still trying to understand what his emotions meant. Eliot had been learning a whole lot more about that himself.

He could see Quentin's face a mixture of patience, pain, and grief. His eyes said it all, trying his best to stay silent about his own inner turmoil, but he was suffering all the same. Eliot waved Quentin over as he got closer. “Here. Bring him to sit by me. Go get some water and take five. The lamps will need lighting up soon.”

Quentin didn’t argue, though it was clear he was contemplating it. He looked defeated. Handling his own grief along with Ted’s outbursts had been wearing on him. He carried Ted over to sit in the pile of pillows by Eliot then turned to walk off towards the cabin. He could hear Q blow out a stream of air as he turned to leave, a hand rising to stroke his hair back. Eliot wished he could do more. One thing at a time.

The second Ted was placed down he tried to squirm away and go again. Eliot was faster, he’d already anticipated this movement. Hands around his small waist, he wrestled the boy back into the pillows.

”No papa!” sobbed out from the little boy, fresh tears replacing the anger, finding the moment had hit its breaking point for him. He buried his face into the dirty stuffed horse.

“Oh, come on kiddo. That was never going to work. Running away was my signature move.” None of those words meant anything to Ted. Eliot didn’t let up on his grip, not yet. “Listen, sometimes it can be a very good thing to run away from something, but right now it’s not a good idea. Show me you can sit beside me and I will let you go.”

It didn’t take long of Eliot holding him before Ted gave up fighting and grew impatient. Eliot loosened his grip as soon as he could. He didn’t want to be in his son's space while Ted was upset. The little boy puffed out loudly, body coiling away from Eliot, arms wiping his face then folding wrap around his face and knees in an effort to not look up at him.

Eliot sat back, he tried to show he was completely calm and in control. He waited for Ted to have that moment to himself, eyes going to the sunset to saviour the last of the setting sunlight through the trees.

The dirty brown horse hadn’t been let go, still crushed into the boy's lap. Eliot made a mental note to inspect the seams. It’d need repairing soon and he was dreading the potential headache it’d bring. He never could do the work quite as beautifully as Arielle once had. Maybe Quentin would be up for using his abilities instead.

When Ted came down from his mountain and slowly twisted back to look up Eliot, red puffy eyes still wet. In response, he smiled back reassuringly and reached out to stroke the wet from the boy’s face. His little one was engaging again, this was a good thing.

“See? You’re okay. I know you’re really mad right now and I would be too.”

He waited for a response, when there was none, Eliot leaned in and continued.

“Do you remember what I do when I get so mad?”

Ted shook his head. It wasn’t a fair question, Eliot had never so much as raised his voice around Ted. He held up his hand and wiggled his fingers patiently, bringing the boys attention to that.

Eliot promised himself he’d never be like his own father and he’d to date he’d stayed true to his word. Ted glanced down to his own hands, opening his palms across the mangled horse in his lap.

“How about we blow them out together? Maybe if you helped me we can get them down faster we could go do something else after. You ready?”

Eliot breathed in, making an exaggerated show of it with air filling up his cheeks, then waited for Ted to copy. After each slow exhale he’d fold a finger down. Ted genuinely just wanted to blow out the candles as fast as he possibly could. He was starting to blow a second time by the time Eliot was done with one exhale. It didn’t matter, the fact he was doing it at all was a step in the right direction.

By the end of it the young boy was still red-faced, but not quite so ready to explode. Eliot’s chest felt lighter and he knew Ted probably felt the effect too. They weren’t out of the woods by any means, but this was a start. Eliot placed his hand back down as his last finger closed.

“Did you get that nice feeling in your chest too? Means it’s working. So, what do you think happened that made you have to come sit here with papa?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s okay. I forget sometimes too. I think it was because you went outside the warded area which isn’t safe. What do you think?”

“... but I didn’t want to be safe. I wanted to go see mama.”

“I know you want to be with mama, I miss her too. But going out into the woods isn’t a good idea and won’t make you closer to her. You want to know what I think will help?

“What?”

“We can miss someone and have them close to our heart. I could tell you my favorite stories of mama, or hum that song she always liked to do. Or we can just walk around the safe area and hold hands without talking. I don’t want you to feel more sad. What do you think?”

Ted sat there quietly, reasoning the pros and cons as far as his small developing mind could take them. Eliot was always surprised by how mature he’d been. Raised around only adults might have had that effect, or maybe it was being raised in Fillory. He couldn’t know for sure, he’d never experienced the hardships of kids before and didn’t really have any baseline to go off.

These newer outbursts Ted was having were always so sudden and explosive. Eliot could only hope this would get easier with time, for the sanity of all of them.

“Just walk papa? I don’t want to be more sad.”

“Alright little man. Whatever makes you happy and safe.”

Eliot got up first, hand offered out for the smaller person to reach for it. He held Ted’s hand as they walked out to the parameter of the wards. Each time Ted pointed to parts of the ward he knew, Eliot tried his best to explain why they’d added that, in a way Ted would understand. He never did, but he liked the pretty lights of it and listening to Eliot talk.

After a while, lanterns around the mosaic were lit by Quentin and their home looked like the most inviting spot for miles. Thankfully the wards they’d put up together should keep the worst at bay. Coming from the original falling apart shack it once was, they’d spent enough magic making it a home.

Q had a silent conversation with Eliot from across the yard before coming over to join the pair, checking to see if he was allowed or if Eliot would just shoo him off again. Ted was doing better. The coast was clear. Q smiled warily as he joined them.

Ted automatically held up his only free hand with Cozy Horse and looked sad when he couldn’t hold both that and his father. When Q got close enough, he took the horse from the small boy, then bent down to tuck it into Ted’s shirt so its head would poke out against his small neck. He took the free hand and used his other to ruffle the boy's hair when he stroked it. Straightening back up they began walking again.

The trio wandered aimlessly, attempting to talk about other things, anything to distract Ted, making him smile or laugh about something else. Showing him the world wasn’t always so damn tragic. Ted was pretty set in his thoughts, and it was hard to keep away from the harder-hitting questions. When no answer came from Quentin, Eliot stepped up and drew the boy's attention to him.

“What is dying?”

“Well, uh… Mama’s body stopped working when she got sick. She couldn’t eat, or play, or move her body anymore like we do.”

“But what if I get sick?”

“Everyone gets sick sometimes. I’m going to take care of you, and Dada will take care of you, and the doctors will take care of you too. You’ll be okay even if you get sick.”

“Does everyone die?”

“Eventually, yeah... everyone dies. But the bright side? Most people die when they are very, very old like Nana.”

Q tossed Eliot a look but Ted didn’t seem all that bothered. He was too caught up in his own head, just like someone else Eliot knew. His expression softened when Ted’s small voice spoke again.

“But not Mama. I miss her.”

“No, not Mama. I miss her too”

“Why is Dada’s face wet?”

“I think he’s just going to be doing that from now on, but that’s okay. Everyone needs to cry sometimes.”

“He’s crying? Why?”

“Dada’s crying because he’s very sad that Mama died. We all miss her very much. What do you think we could do when we see someone is sad?”

Ted offered no advice but immediately let go of Eliot and leaned in to try to hug Quentin. Eliot stopped and scooped up the little boy to rest him on his hip in one arm. He was starting to get just a little too big for being carried and Eliot knew there would come a day they wouldn’t be able to pick him up anymore. But that day wasn’t going to be it.

Getting closer to Quentin to side hug him. Q leaned his head in immediately to hide his face in the nook of Eliot’s neck and sniffled quietly. Ted leaned across Eliot to rest his head on his father. Q tried so hard to hide this side from Ted, Eliot wished he wouldn’t.

When Q pulled back and whispered his thanks, they began walking again. Eliot didn’t dare let him move back too far. Arm staying wrapped around his best friend, he pressed his cheek against his head and hummed that beautiful melody Arielle always used to do.

The small boy curled into the crook of Eliot’s neck where Q had been and hooked his little arms around his neck. It didn’t take long for the boy to doze off like that. They walked together in silence a little longer.

It was still too cold for him to sleep outside yet. Eliot knew they’d all be doing that once the temperatures were right for it. He eventually carried the sleeping boy back to the cabin. What looked tiny from the outside became a full spacious home on the inside thanks to years of refining their spellwork.

Tucking the small boy into his own bed, he carefully pulled Cozy Horse from the boy’s clothes and stashed it away into his back pocket. Once he was sure Ted wasn’t getting up again, he crept back out as quietly as he could to go find Quentin.

Quentin had been curled up on the bed-like bench outside. The campfire had been started back up and he seemed to be staring off into space. He hadn’t noticed Eliot approaching until he was moving past his line of vision. Q blinked back and looked up at him. Eliot took up space on the bed beside him, tugging at the blanket sprawled over the arm to cover their bodies against the cold. The nights weren’t warm enough yet, but it was still nice enough to be out there.

“He’s asleep.”

“Thanks. You were amazing today. I felt like a useless floundering fish.”

“C’mon now, give floundering fish some credit. They generally tend to mature into some of the most beautiful and powerful creatures. Plus, they taste delicious.” Eliot tried to tease, leaning in to nudge against his favorite person, wrapping him in for a much-needed cuddle under the blanket. “Some days are just going to be like that. You did exactly what you needed to get through it.”

“He’s asking to go be with her. That’s not normal. He’s just a kid.”

“Kid or not, he’s going to say and feel what he needs to say and feel. He lost someone important to him, just like you did.”

“I hate this. I don’t know the first thing about making any of it okay again.”

“Who says any of it needs to be okay? We just need to keep ourselves above water for a little while longer.”

“You seem to be handling all this way better than I ever could.”

“Just because I’m not hitting the booze anymore, or munching on all the psychedelic carrots I can get my hands on, doesn’t mean I’m handling it, Q. I’m a little numb to it all right now.”

“You’re better with Ted.”

“-And that’s because I’m a dispassionate cold-blooded lizard. Listen, him seeing you like this and showing him it’s okay to be upset is better than anything I can do. He has big feelings he doesn’t know how to deal with, much like someone else I know.”

“You’re far from being cold-blooded or dispassionate.”

“So we both agree I’m a lizard.”

He shifted his arm to retrieve the tattered and dirty Cozy Horse. Quentin sat up to watch and Eliot followed suit.

“I’d try sewing this but I’m lowkey terrified I’ll make it worse. Nobody wants an Ugly Horse.”

“Let me.”

He took it from him, hands gently inspecting the damaged toy. Cozy Horse came to life under Quentin’s touch, moving on its own accord as seams were repaired and holes patched themselves up. It was almost like it was brand new again, minus the lost stuffing and patches of fur. Eliot was enamoured by the sight. Watching something so broken be fixed back together like it was always the same could never get boring.

Eliot dipped in to kiss him softly against his lips the moment he knew Quentin could be distracted. Cozy Horse dropped down onto the blanket. Quentin hummed against the contact, hand reaching up to touch Eliot’s face. When they parted. Eliot nudged Q back down into the bed so that he could watch the stars above while Eliot kissed him in other places. He’d do anything to remind him he wasn’t alone. After their day, the contact was needed.

“See? You’re doing better than you know.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

“I’m always right.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Just most of the time.”

“Eliot, shut up and kiss me again.”

---

I’m tired of this waiting And I am not alone Oh I’m burning up Saying what you will I’m not out of love I’m the captain of this sinking ship Please just get a grip I know it’s my fault But we’re not going down Bon Voyage - Arbi, Koethe

[innytoes]

Hello, five (or more, I wouldn't say no) spontaneous headcanons about a willex boarding school au? 👀 (sfw please)

-When Caleb gets a call that his sister left custody over her son to him, a nephew he never even knew he had, he is like: wtf. When he comes to meet with the social worker and sees the long hair, tie-dye crop top, and earring, he’s like: of course I am taking him in. (There’s a reason he hasn’t talked to his family for decades and he will not have them do the same to Willie as they did to him.)

Except being a full-time parent and running the HGC is not a great combination, especially with Willie’s flair for Chaos. So he makes him a deal: he can go to any boarding school in the country, or even the world, if he promises to behave enough not to get kicked out, and in return he can wreak whatever chaos he wants in the summers (within reason).

-Willie chooses the boarding school because they have a great art program, they’re queer-friendly (Caleb called to check), and it’s in the Woods and he 1) always liked the woods and 2) wants to see Bigfoot.

-Alex’ parents sent him to boarding school after he came out. Alex is not sure he understands their reasoning, given that it is an all-boy’s boarding school and that is like the opposite of ‘straightening him out’, but anything is better than the icy silence at home. Alex’ parents do not know the entire stack of Hot Gay Boarding School Romance Novels under his older sister’s bed that Alex may or may not have borrowed.

-Listen Alex likes his roommate Luke and he’s kind of open to the idea of starting a band with him but also he is SO ENERGETIC and he cannot sit still and he’s always humming and it drives Alex insane.

-So he goes to hide out in the library. Not the fancy new one with amazing computers and a 3D printer and shit, the dusty old one nobody uses because the wifi is shit and it‘s always cold and drafty but it looks great on pamphlets for the Old Money crowd. He bundles up in his hoodie and finds a comfy armchair and just gets to Be Still for a moment.

-Except his peace and quiet is interrupted at a gleeful shout and then a maniac on a skateboard comes into view, sliding his board on the fancy brass railings before landing hard and rolling right into Alex and his comfy armchair, sending both of them toppling backward.

-“Oh man you dinged my board” meetcute etc etc.

-Lots of cute sneaking around in the dark holding hands dates. Willie shows him how to get on the roof and it’s so peaceful and pretty there he loves it. They take up a blanket and watch the stars next time, and share their first kiss there.

-Maybe he sends his sister a postcard like: ‘Boarding school is great, I am learning so much, all this nature is so good for me, etc etc platitudes’ along with an abbreviated title of one of their favourite books with the chapter in which the main characters have their first kiss... on a rooftop.

- “I dunno what HGBSRNCH12 means, Mom, I think he was just trying to clean his pen or something, it’s just a random scribble. You know Alex hates when pens aren’t writing smoothly.”

-Soon they form a little group with Bobby (rich parents who travel a lot and don’t want to take him with them) and Reggie (the scholarship kid). Reggie is upset there are no secret societies at this school. He thought maybe none of them just wanted him, but he could still catch one in the act of secret society-ing. But Bobby (a legacy kid) told him there weren’t any.

-Obvs they start a secret society just for the fun of it. Since they can’t play music late at night without getting caught (then it’s not a Secret Society, Luke, you dumbass), their activities include Sneaking, Stealing Snacks, Trying To Find Bigfoot and/or Mothman in the woods, and picnics on the roof. But while wearing dramatic hoods and holding (fake, battery-powered, Alex does not trust these goofballs with fire) candles and stuff.

send me an au and i’ll give you 5+ headcanons about it

[liliavanrougewife]

Lilia Vanrouge Slice of Life with Diasomnia

Warnings: PTSD flashbacks, Mentions of scars, Indirect mention of blood

The Price of Peace

Lilia took a shuttered breath in as he laid his head against the cold shower wall. The warm water that hit his back wasn’t relaxing him the way it should. Shouting, the sounds of metal clashing against metal, the smell of damp dirt, smoke from fires, and a faint scent of iron overwhelmed him. He took a few deep breaths and ran his hands through his soaked hair. The steam made every breath feel thick, like he was breathing in the smoke from the past that was replaying in his mind. With a shaky hand he turned the facet to a colder temperature and opened the curtains slightly so that the steam could escape faster. He opened his body wash, a gift from a friend, and an overwhelmingly sweet and fruity smell wafted throughout the bathroom. With every shaky intake of breath, the fruity scent chased away that of the wet dirt, smoke and iron. He lathered up his wash cloth and ran it over his body, paying no attention the scars on his arms and torso as he did so. After his body was clean he worked on his hair. He was careful not to look at the water falling towards his feet, mixed with the pink hair dye that looked a little too red when it pooled near the drain.

His heart beat was still quicker than normal when he exited from the bathroom to return to his room, but he was better able to function now that his head was not completely in the past. Within a few minutes of returning to his room he heard a knock at his door.

“Father, will you be joining us for tea this evening?” Silver called from the other side of the door.

Lilia glanced at the clock on his bedside table and realized he was in the shower longer than he was expecting. Being late to Diasomnia’s tea party wasn’t out of the ordinary for him, however missing it entirely without notice was another matter. It was his idea to have these get togethers in the first place.

“Yes, I will be down in a minute.” Lilia replied.

When he went downstairs Sebek’s eyes seemed to sparkle as he got up hastily from his seat. His chair nearly toppled over in the process.

“LILIA, WE HAVE WAITED FOR YOU!” He exclaimed, a large smile displayed on his face.

He was nearly 30minutes late, yet Silver, Sebek and Malleus were seated where they normally were at the small table near a large window. The tea kettle was set on a pad in the middle of the table, and the tea cups were stacked up off to the side. Malleus raised one of his eyebrows in question once he made eye contact with Lilia, but didn’t push it any further once his action received no acknowledgment. Silver glanced at Lilia and promptly set out one tea cup and tea spoon for each person.

“I did well to teach you manners along with your training,” Lilia said with a smile.

“I WILL WARM THE TEA NOW,” Sebek declared proudly, not even registering the blatant self praise from his instructor.

“Father, shall I bring the honey?” Silver asked.

Lilia chuckled.

“No, that’s quite alright. Despite my mesmerizing performance last night, my throat is still intact. I guess I can amp it up next time, as Cater says,” Lilia replied.

“THOSE HUMANS SHOULD BE GRATEFUL TO SEE SUCH A MARVELOUS SPECTACLE,” Sebek butted in from the kitchen.

“I will tell Sebek to quiet down,” Silver said.

Silver headed towards the kitchen without waiting for a reply. Malleus took this time alone with Lilia to look at him questioningly again.

“Are you alright Lilia?” He asks looking over the smaller fairy’s facial expression while waiting for an answer.

There was no waver in his content smile.

“Yes of course. There’s is nothing ailing me,” Lilia replied.

Malleus looked unsure over whether to accept his reply. Lilia clapped loudly and exclaimed that he had a great idea before disappearing in a cloud of lime green sparkles. He returned to Malleus at the same time as Sebek and Silver.

“YOUNG MASTER, LILIA HAS BROUGHT ICE CREAM FOR US,” Sebek said excitedly.

Sebek set the tea kettle in its rightful place in the center of the table and Silver set out small ice cream glasses.

“Affogato!” Lilia exclaims with no prior introduction.

“You pour espresso onto ice cream. But we already brewed the tea so we will use that instead. It would be easier for Sebek to digest as well.” Lilia explained.

“That sounds delicious,” Malleus said.

“A DESSERT SUITED BOTH FOR YOUNG MASTER AND I. WHAT A WONDERFUL CREATION,” Sebek nearly sobbed with delight.

“Have you tried this before father?” Silver asked.

“Yes! Actually I had this while traveling in the Rose Queendom. They still called it affogato despite it being made with tea and not espresso. It actually originated in the Shaftlands, in a large southern town with a booming coffee industry. It is said that travelers from the Rose Queendom were fascinated with the simple dessert but often found the espresso to be too bitter for their tastes even with the ice cream adding sweetness to it.” Lilia said.

“Oh, so they decided to substitute with tea, as it is more suited to their tastes?” Silver asked.

“Exactly!” Lilia exclaimed.

The improvised affogato was well received by the other three members. They ate and chatted about their days and what they were going to do for training the next day.

Lilia took time to observe the proud smile on Sebek’s face as he talked about polishing Malleus’ school shoes, the bright smile on Malleus’ face as he mentioned how his favorite gargoyle still dripped water from the previous night’s rain, and the fond smile on Silver’s face as he recounted seeing a game that he knew Lilia would love at Sam’s shop. He was so grateful that times were peaceful enough now to allow him to share these moments with the ones he loves.

[ironmandeficiency]

requests are open! ask away

requests have been opened again! i’m gonna do things a little different this time around just to see how it goes. below are lists of soulmate au’s, dialogue prompts, & physical affection prompts. you can send me a max of TWO of them for a request (ie “soulmate goose + giggly cuddles with character” or however you want). it’s open for any character i’ve written for thus far, so go ham y’all 🥰✨✌🏻

soulmate au’s!

soulmate goose of enforcement — a goose will herd you around until finding your soulmate. your soulmate also has a goose doing the same thing. there is no telling whether your goose will be tame or a menace

you and your soulmate have the same hair color — if one dyes their hair, their soulmate’s hair color will change with it

when you or your soulmate lose something, it reappears with the other one (can’t lose things on purpose)

you can choose to take away your soulmate’s pain when they’re injured — if they get a paper cut or smth considerably worse, you can choose whether to take that pain for yourself or not

everyone has a sun and moon tattoo that glow, depending on whether it’s day or night where your soulmate is

when your soulmate is sick, so are you (and vice versa)

soulmates share talents — if either of you are good at something, the other one doesn’t even have to learn it to be good at it

soulmates can’t share talents — oh, your soulmate can draw really well? congrats, you’re now the worst person ever to have on a pictionary team

soulmates are forced to literally finish each other’s sentences when around each other

the voice in your head (your subconscious) is your soulmate’s — can simply be their voice OR their personality too

one runs cold while the other runs hot, and find the in-between when they’re touching

soulmates can fluently speak each other’s native languages without trying to learn it

you can only see shades of your soulmate’s favorite color until you meet (favorite colors are subject to change)

dialogue prompts!

“do you want me to kill that guy for you? because he seems like a real dick and i would totally kill that guy for you.”

“so apparently i had a problem”

“that could gone a lot worse” “it could have gone better too, dumbass”

“well fuck me running”

“your table manners leave much to be desired” “…there are no tables in the middle of the woods?”

“give me back my ___ or so help me i will throw every single one of those scones into the fire!” “you wouldn’t dare!” “try me”

“should i be scared of how many songs you like that involve women murdering their spouses?” “do you have a reason to be?”

🎶do doo do do🎶 “FUCK!”

*after something huge happens* “well, at least no one got hurt” *person saying this immediately gets hurt, probably in a stupid way*

“bless your heart”

“any crystal is a protection crystal if you throw it hard enough”

“i picked a whole bouquet of whoopsie daisies”

“do not speak of this to anyone” *promptly tells absolutely everyone who will listen*

physical affection prompts!

forehead kisses

tickle fights

tight hugs with gentle swaying

excited running start hugs that involve spinning someone around in circles

a protective hand to the chest to keep someone out of danger

an affectionate but annoyed slap to the back of the head

play wrestling

resting their chin on someone’s head or shoulder

gentle (or not so gentle) headbutt

running their fingers through someone’s hair

lacing fingers together after a high five as a joke but it’s been twenty minutes and they won’t let go of each other

curling up together to share a blanket

protecting each other during a food fight

tagging a few friends to spread the word! @evergreennwilloww @fromthedeskoftheraven @absurdthirst @ohnopoe @micheleamidalajedi @getdookuedon @a-dorin @engineeredfiction @max--phillips @oonajaeadira @pettyprocrastination @keldabe-kriff @clonewarslover55 @flightlessangelwings @fizzyxcustard @lordoftherazzles

[dragondemoness]

Junko with male s/o who's talent is being unpredictable aka ultimate hell raiser. And to add some spice to it they have a habit of randomly disappearing and ending in crazy shenanigans

Junko Enoshima with an Ultimate Hell Raiser S/O (plus red headed bonus)

Upon hearing about your talent, you sounded chaotic and maybe destructive

Which sounded perfect for the Ultimate Despair goddess

So she sought you out immediately, asking what your talent meant and what it is you do

You basically shrugged your shoulders and said "idk I raise hell and cause chaos"

She wanted to see it in action, so she began hanging out with you more

And BOY did you live up to your title

It wasn't even just about causing harm, it was literally just causing chaos

Like you would go to see fireworks together, and you watched them near the spot where they were going off

Junko would turn away from you for one second, then she turned back, and the fireworks stand was on fire and the guy launching the fireworks was running around in circles while screaming

And you just stood there like nothing was going on and that you had no part in it

And Junko just thought "omg he's perfect"

It seemed like everywhere you went, something would go wrong

Sometimes it was on purpose, sometimes it was just the devil taking the wheel

Like you would go to a restaurant on a date, and somehow the kitchen would get set on fire

But it somehow happened after you got your food, so you could just take it and leave without paying

Or during your time at Hope's Peak, where a fire drill might be an actual fire

All because of your talent

The entire student body lived in fear of you

And Junko loved everything about it

Turning the entire world to despair was child's play with your help

And even when there were almost no people, no establishments, you still brought chaos with you everywhere you went

But Junko loved every moment of it

You were everything she was hoping for hehe how ironic when she heard about you

Even if you had no idea what you were getting into when you made the deal, you're here now, and you're living in the moment with your despair goddess

Oh, and one last thing...

Something that threw Junko off when she met you was your flaming red hair

I mean, you're called the "Ultimate Hell Raiser," so you may as well look the part, right?

And she LOVES to make fun of you for it

Like, you'll both just end up in banter matches just because of your har

"Seriously, why did you dye your hair such a vibrant red color?? It looks like literal fire!"

"That's the point! It's for the talent. If I'm gonna act like a demon, I'm gonna look like one."

"Well, there are other ways of doing that besides dying your hair such a hideous, bright color!"

"Excuse me, it highlights my-"

"SILENCE, YOU FIRE-CROTCHED PEASANT!!!"

And of course, she said that last line in her queen persona

Oh boy...

[horsefreek151]

Hair Dye is Part of My Gender (or lack there of)

This is gonna sound wild, but Hair Dye is probably part of my gender expression that I feel wrong without.

I started dyeing my hair on and off in 2018 before I knew I was Agender and started with blue but moved on to greens and even to reds. I'm a natural ginger, so I soon figured out what worked for me. I cut it in Jan 2020 for a work position I moved across the country for and then got fired for being autistic. I crashed. It was two years before I dyed it again, this time professionally for the first time, it was just after I came out.

I remember manically giggling with my boyfriend (now husband) about how now that I had my undercut/side shave I felt Gender. I was giggling with the styles about how much this was gender. She was so kind I went back to her two years later to get my hair done for my wedding. I got an ombre from dark red to orange to light yellow like FIRE and it was so GOOD. I felt amazing. I had waist-length FIRE-colored hair like ginger! I looked awesome. I felt awesome.

My health had majorly declined over these last few years, particularly physically, and I was struggling to keep up with that hair, now past my bum. I was in loads of pain and couldn't keep it up, so I kept it all braided up, but it was a mess and so hard to care for. I was washing as little as once a month. It was too much to keep up. I had to cut it. It is now shoulder-length in the back, sweeping forward an inch or two longer in the front. It reminds me of the second usher kid who died in the fall of usher in style. It was causing me some brian issues because all the colors had been cut off. It was starting to cause me some real distress so I decided to look into hair dye again. Cant get it dyed professionally (Im disabled and poor), and I cant get more dye until I'm payed so I decided to just grab my leftover dye, Ill probably have a muted brown green tinted with my blondest hairs (ginger tends to vary between dark red brown and light pale blond, from hair to hair) being the bright green. Even tho it will probably look trash I imidately felt releaf when dyeing it. Its the first time I've felt what I can consider gender dysphoria. I have had body dysmorphia, I bloat so bad I look like I'm nearly 6 months pregnant 90% of the time, but never gender dysphoria that I could pin down. It was one of the moments where I realized that for me, as an agender person, I only felt (lack there of)gender conformation when I dyed it. Without it I felt too much cis fem presenting, not only do I look more like my abusive mother, but I just looked too..... before I was out. Too different than how I feel. I also hate swimming in fem-bodied swimsuits unless I'm particularly trying to look cute rather than swim. I would rather just swim in practical cloths of shorts and a swim shirt (again, I'm ginger, I burn sitting in the window). I use boxers 99.9% of the time unless I want to look cute or have an ouch that makes it uncomfortable. I know that I don't really identify with gender, Women, or Man. That's why I ID as Agender. But that doesn't mean that things can't be gender comforting. I've found over the years how much what I wear or what I'm forced to wear. I have a wacky haircut cause I'm modifying my undercut, but I feel very uncomfortable if my shave part is longer than an inch. I do strive towards things that help represent my lack of gender, point towards somewhere in between, at least, let alone the cave in the mountain of gender that I sit in. Its very interesting to me how that has changed as I have found more of my identity and what I truly feel about myself. Gender how you want and let yourself trust your feelings.

[enigmatist17]

Athena promises never again to bitch about the heat ever again.

Well, at least for the next few months.

The 126 firehouse is a lot nicer than she would have ever figured for Texas, slipping out of Buck's borrowed Jeep with a crack of her neck. It felt nice to cash in one of the many favors he owed her, and after cleaning it out (seriously Buck, is it too hard to vacuum the floor???) it had been a comfortable drive for an uncomfortable errand.

"Can I help you ma'am?" A man that can only be described as a mountain had come up without Athena noticing, and she flashed a smile before slipping off her sunglasses.

"I suppose you can -?"

"Name's Judd."

"Athena Grant, I'm here to speak with Mateo Chavez."

"Is he in trouble?" A woman who had been working under one of the fire truck got to her feet, wiping some oil off from her hands as she popped her gum.

"Ah no, he's not in trouble, I just need to speak with him." The other raised an eyebrow, and Judd just shrugged at her.

"Not every day Mateo gets a visitor from out of town, so yea I'm curious. Marjan by the way, nice to meet you."

Athena couldn't help but shake her head out of amusement.

"No need to go guard dog on me, I'm an LAPD officer if that helps."

"Well well, how fancy." Marjan chuckled, looking around for a moment before whistling for someone Athena couldn't see. It takes a moment before someone comes bounding over, and her heart aches at the familiar yet unfamiliar face brimming with curiosity and a smile that rounds the corner. For a moment she can see the reason she's here, and with some hair dye and a cocky grin, he'd be right there.

"Um, hi!" The man waves, and Athena gives him a soft smile.

"Hello Mateo, it's nice to finally meet you."

"You know me?" Mateo blinked in confusion, and Athena slipped on her officers mask after taking a controlled breath.

"I do. Would you mind accompanying me to my car, I have some news that's best in private." They all can see that Athena has shifted her body language, however slightly, and the smile on Mateo's face falters as he nods.

"We'll be right here okay? Call if you need anything." The warning in Marjani's words are clear, but Athena knows they only come from a place of love as she leads Mateo to the car, making sure he's within sight of the multiplying eyes.

"Is something wrong ma'am?" He's not always the best at picking up social cues, but he knows that this Athena isn't here for something good.

"Your cousin Marvin, I've known him since he was a young kid." Mateo smiles a little, wondering if Athena is the cop he'd mentioned when Marvin was just starting out his "life as a badass".

"He's pretty fun right? I mean, I know he's in jail and all, but he's just a really nice guy otherwise." Marvin may have been misguided, but he'd taken something big so Mateo could live a life on his terms, and as such he kept his cousin in high regard.

"I know dear..." Athena's face turned to one of sympathy, and Mateo feels ice crawling through his veins. "Which makes this next part hard, I'm afraid. Marvin passed away a few days ago after his bail was posted, and had left a note for me to tell you this in person."

"...w-what?"

All Mateo can hear right now is the blood pounding in his veins, whatever Athena is saying next lost in the static of his scrambled thoughts. He watches in almost slow motion as she pops open the trunk, pulling out a trunk that Mateo had bought Marvin years ago and setting it down with a loud thud. The noise seems to have cleared the static, and Mateo suddenly can't breathe, trying to force air down his lungs as Athena moves towards him with worry. She pauses when Cap suddenly comes from nowhere, Strand snapping one of his fingers.

"Hey hey hey hey, focus on my finger okay? Focus on it, and I want you to reach out and squeeze my other hand okay?"

Mateo gave a jerky nod. He can do this, he can do this.

Cap's hand is warm as Mateo grabs it, clinging like it's the only thing that helps the air go down his aching throat.

"You're doing great, you're doing just fine okay?"

Has Owen's teeth always been so white? Or is it the dread of realizing he got his cousin killed making him think they are?

He just wants to go lay down and forget about everything right now.

"What did you say to him?" A man who looks similar to the captain rounds on Athena with a glare, and the mountain man is right behind him with his arms crossed.

"His cousin recently passed, and asked that I let him know personally." Athena crossed her own arms, and the younger man winced.

"That's awful kind of ya to come all the way down here." Judd loosened his stance, clearing his throat and rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. "Would you like some coffee or somethin' ?"

"I'll take you up on that offer. Let me just put this back in my car." She motioned to the trunk at her feet, and there's a cough before she can lean down to grab it.

"I can take it." Mateo clears his throat, Owen stepping aside as he approached the container and knelt down, just staring at it with a slight frown. "I thought it was bigger..."

"Things always tend to be in our memories." Athena nodded, giving him a small smile when the firefighter glances up. "You know, he always had nice things to say about you."

"I'll get the coffee going, and TK why don't you make lunch?" A woman Athena hadn't seen before stepped in, and the younger Strand nods as he heads towards the kitchen. "Name's Tommy, nice to meet you Athena."

"Likewise."

While they're not the 118, of which their many exploits draw awe and laughter alike, the 126th has their own camaraderie Athena can't help but admire. Mateo is quiet for the most part, but occasionally smiles or chips in with his own part of a rescue, and Athena ends up watching them race out for a call, save Mateo who was asked to stay behind.

"Come on son, why don't you show me around Austin instead of moping by yourself. I could use the company." Athena offered her hand, the firefighter who had been sitting at the table looking like a kicked puppy glancing over before slipping off his seat and offering his arm.

"You like empanadas?"

"I'm not fussy, show me the way."

It may not have been the way she wanted to meet Marvin's cousin, but she was glad just the same to have at all.