#so used to being in charge.. the boss… never taking orders from the people who worked for him… and whenever any other character would make

[tariah23]

Outside of all of… that happening to Gojo, and finishing Snowfall the other day, eek……..

[thatlittlered]

time warp | aaron hotchner

warning(s): none, just hotch being delicious

GIF by @katebeckets

part one

author's note: I have never updated a story this fast in my life. Another part is coming tomorrow.

Follow me @MadeofLilies on Ao3 and let me know if you want to be tagged here.

-.-.-

The door to his office is open, chatter from the bullpen reaching him when you all get too loud. He can tell Morgan is pestering you about something and the others have gathered around to listen.

“You only have one watch?”

“How many watches do other people have? You act like it’s insane.”

Spencer, like always, feels the need to interject, “I have three.”

You sigh, abandoning your pen and notes.

“I have another one but that’s my grandmother’s, I can’t wear it to work.”

Derek is not satisfied with your answer.

“You have a thousand pieces of jewelry.”

“I know!”

“You are wearing most of them right now.”

“I know, Morgan, you can stop bullying me now.” You pout at him and he pouts back, but his grin is indicator enough that he’s not even close to finished with you.

“Where do you even spend your paychecks, sweetheart?”

“Important stuff. Like shoes.”

“I only have one pair of shoes aside of my trainers.”

Emily laughs, “Yeah, we know that, Spence. Their time is coming to an end, by the way.”

Morgan zeroes in on you again, poking a finger into your knee to get a reaction.

“How many pairs of shoes do you have exactly? Fifteen? Twenty?”

“They were twenty… at some point.”

Triumph.

You almost can’t stand his shit-eating grin.

“There you go. Too bad you don’t get to wear them here.”

“Where do you spend yours? A lifetime’s supply of V-necks at GAP?”

You stand up from your chair, eager to get away from this conversation.

“You’re only mean to me because you know I’ll love you anyway.”  

“Maybe.”

He puts his hand over his heart in feign hurt. Garcia mutters something about a woman’s right to shoes in your defense and you kiss her cheek to thank her on your way to the kitchenette. Aaron still watches from his seat and squirms uncomfortably when he sees Morgan follow you.

You take his mug and pour you both some coffee while he takes a seat, thanking you. You don’t even see Hotch come in.

“Did your watch get lost?”

You almost spill your coffee at the baritone of his voice. Everything he says comes out so official, so professional, as if speaking orders, but not at that beach under the sunrise. Who was he then?

“Yes, it did. Totally on its own and not because I keep leaving my stuff in random places and not looking after them properly.”

“Maybe that’s why you spend so much on stuff, if you keep losing them.”

You quirk a brow at Derek, leaning over him menacingly from your position.

“I swear to God, Morgan, this might be the day you officially lose my affection.”

He takes the cup you’ve poured for him from your hand and slowly walks backwards in resignation.

“No, please, I didn’t mean it.”

You smile at each other and you point a finger at him. Hotch watches with a frown.

“Tread lightly.”

When Morgan’s gone, he can finally step closer to you. Getting to the coffee machine is only the excuse.

“You know, you’re really good at keeping him in check. Maybe you should be in charge here.”

You smile into your cup, “That’s alright, we already have a boss and he’s okay.”

“Oh, is he? Good to know, I can’t wait to have that all over my evaluation files next year.”

You nod. The fabric of his suit jacket brushes against your arm while he pours.

“Some might even use the words ‘pretty good’.”

He hums, “So eloquent.”

Your smile deepens, nose wrinkling upwards in a way that now really can’t be hidden in your cup.

-.-.-

It’s almost time for everyone to head home and for once, he’s trying really hard to make it out of the office before sundown; maybe spend some quality time with Jack.

There’s a knock on his door before it opens and he’s about to send whoever it is away but-

“Hi, sorry, am I interrupting?”

He looks up, uncharacteristically disoriented.

“Uh, no-no, come in.”

“Are you coming to Rossi’s tonight?”

He’s dumbfounded.

“I’m not really sure yet, I have some errands to run when I’m done here.”

“Oh, okay… I just found some old Marvel comics and I thought Jack might like to have them, but I didn’t bring them with me. Maybe I could give them to you tonight? That is, if you make it.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Do you mind?”

“No, of course not, I just-”, he exhales, “I’ll be there.”

You smile and nod, ready to leave.

“Maybe I could give you a ride and you can give them to me then. I mean,” his thumb scratches his bottom lip uncomfortably, “your place is practically on the way.”

“Have you ever been to my place?”

Aaron laughs awkwardly, “No.”

“But you seem to know what you’re talking about, so I’m going to put my faith in you. Pick me up at seven?”

“That works.”

-.-.-

It’s not even half past six when he rings your doorbell and you open the door still clad in pjs.

“You are so early.”

Hotch suddenly looks so small for such a usually imposing man. He stands in your doorway with nervous hands in his pockets and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him act like this before.

“I’m sorry, I can wait in the car if you’d like.”

“No, it’s okay, come in. I think I knew deep down that you would be; just not by this much.”

 He clears his throat and moves inside to now stand awkwardly at the apartment’s entrance, “I’m sorry, I started way too early from my house. Overestimated how long it would take to get here.”

Your interactions do something to warp his sense of time.

“That’s okay, Aaron, really. You’re just going to have to give me a few minutes because I haven’t had the time to get ready yet.”

He watches, frozen in his place, while you walk towards the kitchen.

“Do you need anything? Coffee, orange juice?”

He almost smiles to himself. He just knew you’d be the type of person to always keep the fridge fully stocked even if you’re barely ever home. He likes the confirmation that he knows you, despite his inability to really make conversation and establish familiarity. He grasps at straws; little pieces of you that he sometimes finds and keeps them close to his heart.

“I’m fine, thank you.”

You still bring him a glass of water, freezing cold, just like he likes it, and rest it on the coffee table.

“You can sit, if you want.”

“Right.”

He smiles and sits almost robotically. When he picks up the glass, he softly wipes the ring of water that’s formed underneath with his hand but you don’t see it.

“Let me just grab the box.”

“It’s a whole box?”

“Yeah, I got it at a yard sale.”

“You bought it? You really didn’t have to do that.”

“Well, now that him and I are officially friends I have to do something to maintain the relationship, seeing how I never actually get to see him.” You sit beside him while he looks through the various issues. There have to be at least fifteen in here.

“Yeah, neither do I,” he really appreciates the comforting hand on his shoulder, “This was very nice of you to do, thank you.”

You smile and nod at him.

“Actually, I also have something I wanted to give you; I just need to get it from the car.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, give me a moment, will you?”

He’s out and back in a second. Practically runs back into your apartment when you open the door; a small gift bag in hand.

“I would have brought in with me, but I chickened out at the last minute.”

His fingers linger when he hands it to you. It’s almost a caress in passing.

“You got me something?”

It’s a digital watch, neatly sat on soft velvet.

Was that the errand he had to run?

“Oh, Hotch, thank you so much, but you really shouldn’t have. I know I joked around today, but I would have actually gotten around to getting one. I am not that financially irresponsible.”

“It’s nothing really, it’s not an expensive watch.”

“Oh, okay, as long as it’s the cheap, trashy stuff. Phew.”

He laughs and you realize you’re both standing in your doorway again.

“I just wanted to do something nice.”

“You’re nice to me all the time.”

His brows furrow, “It doesn’t feel like I am.”

“It must come easy then.”

“It does with you.”

He meets your gaze and you stay there for a while.

“Can you help me try it on?”

“Of course.”

He clasps it high on your wrist, just like he’s seen you wear the previous one. The color matches your jewelry and it’s excruciatingly sweet just how much attention he pays to details.

“I just wanted to thank you, I suppose, for the other day. It meant a lot to me.”

Aaron’s hand doesn’t leave your arm, instead wraps gently around it instead, as if one of your bracelets.

“It meant a lot to me too.”

His breathing is heavy, his voice barely a whisper. What you are doing feels like a secret; like it’s meant to be hidden from the rest of the world.

“I’m not sure you mean that in the same way that I do.”

Your other hand comes to rest on top of his, thumb passing softly over protruding veins and scars. He thinks, for a moment, it might wipe them away.

“Then you’re not the people expert that you think you are.”

His laugh is heartbreaking.

“Guess I’m not very good at that either.”

You hum, “You’re okay.”

Neither of you is moving but it feels like you’re getting closer.

“So eloquent again.”

You can’t help but beam with pride at how comfortable he’s getting with your banter. A whole world unlocked and open for you to see. His body is drawn to you, almost folds over and around you to be closer. As close as he can possibly get without touching you more.

“It’s the worst moment possible now, when you’ve just given me a gift and picked me up from my place, but I think it deserves to be said that I would very much like to be kissed by you.”

His eyes flutter close.

“It really is the worst moment possible,” his hand slides slowly from your wrist to elbow, taking in the feeling of bare skin, “but I would very much like to kiss you.”

“But you won’t.”

His hand stops traveling up your arm, drops back onto your wrist and without really meaning to, pulls you closer.

“No.”

You stay like this for a while. Nothing but soft breathing to be heard in the room.

“I should probably go.”

You look up in surprise, “Are you not coming with me?”

“I’m sorry, I just…” he touches the inside of your palm and traces the lines as if to remember them, “I wouldn't know what to say or do after this.”

You smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes.

“It’s alright, I understand… I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The loss of his touch is like a sudden drop in the temperature around you. You both feel it.

He doesn’t meet your gaze again, simply gathers the box and clears his throat as if that will magically return him to what he’s used to being.

“Yeah. Tomorrow.”

You see him press his lips together before he turns to leave.

When you get to Rossi’s, the team is disappointed to know he’s not coming after all, but they’re not surprised. JJ asks you about the new watch and you lie. You can tell Emily is not convinced but she doesn’t say anything about it, merely smiles at you and inches closer with her chair.

Aaron spends another night alone. Jack is at a sleepover with a friend that he didn’t have the heart to pick him up from all of the sudden.

That’s the cost of being a stone, he supposes.

part three

[megamindsecretlair]

Call Out My Name

Pairing: Businessman!Big Stunna x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. PWP, cursing, stranger sex, PIV, oral (female and male receiving) teasing, cum play, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, referring to female anatomy as she, all consensual. D/s lite. Sorry if I missed some, I'm rushing, just let me know.

Summary: At a work conference, your boring coworkers want to continue hanging out. Needing your alone time, you head to the hotel bar for a quick drink before you headed upstairs. But when a gorgeous stranger buys your drink, it entices you to do something you’d never done before. Be bold. 

Word Count: 5,426k

AO3 Link

A/N: This is a wonderful ask from @westside-rot. I have not been able to stop thinking about businessman Stunna all day. Welp, here we are LOL. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

Taglist: @planetblaque @blackerthings @browngirldominion @we-outsiiiide @thecookiebratz @iv0rysoap @notapradagurl7 @sevikasblackgf @miyuhpapayuh @xo-goldengirl @kindofaintrovert @flydotty @judymfmoody @slippinninque @soufcakmistress @henneseyhoe @westside-rot @melaninpov @twocentuar @blackpinup22 @babybratzmaraj @theyscreamsannii @kiabialia @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @00aijia00 @hopefulromantic1 @lesbiantreehugger @longpause-awkwardsmile @badassdoll @kholdkill @cardi-bre91 @blowmymbackout @jay-mach @sageispunk @yourofficialgal @liyaah02 @monaeesstuff @amethyst09 @harmshake @satoruya @theunsweetenedtruth @ciaqui @multiversefanfics @chaos-4baby

Your coworkers spilled out of the conference room in a fit of laughter. Your laugh sounded so fake, even to your ears, but your coworkers were none the wiser. They stated that they wanted to keep the party going and go out for drinks and a later dinner.

Ugh. Spare you. It was bad enough being stuck in a hot ass conference room with these people but it was even worse that they wanted to keep going. It was past nine o’clock and you couldn’t stomach them for one second longer.

Usually, you did these conferences by yourself. You volunteered for the position for free travel and the chance to step out of your shoes for a minute. These people didn’t know you. It was a chance to ease the burdens of your life. But this was a bigger conference, so your boss let the four of you go.

“I’m actually so tired,” you said and heaved a yawn, stretching it out to really look convincing. “I couldn’t stay awake if I tried!”

“Oh, come on! You’re such an old lady!” One of your coworkers, Shane, said and shook his auburn hair. 

“Hey! It takes a routine to look this good at my age,” you said and pointed to yourself and your cream and brown outfit. Your coworkers laughed, waving goodbye, with final pleas to go ahead and join them. God, no thanks. 

You headed towards the hotel bar, feeling that much lighter just from getting rid of their energy. More people needed to appreciate a little quiet and solitude. Entering the hotel bar, your heels clicked on the faux wood as you looked around. It had a nostalgic sort of vibe, with soft neon light, wooden tables, and a TV playing in the corner. 

It was perfect. It looked like the type of place where everyone minded their own fucking business. You walked over to the bar, planting your brown jacket and purse on the seat to your left. You caught the bartender’s attention and ordered your favorite drink. 

As you waited for him to make it, you pulled out your phone and scrolled to your current favorite fanfic on Tumblr. You just needed a good drink and some alone time in the hotel room. You could almost feel the cool air on your skin as you sat and relaxed with good writing. 

The bartender slid your glass into your line of sight. You mumbled a thanks and pulled out your wallet.

“It’s been taken care of,” he said. 

You finally look up, puzzled, because who the hell would do that? The bartender tilted his head to your right. You turned, looking into the face of a god. It took all your willpower not to drop your draw and ogle him.

You licked your lips to give you time to stall, because goddamn. You were suddenly too aware of your heartbeat thumping in your chest and down below. You didn’t think people could have physical reactions to real life people and yet here you were.

You grabbed the drink and lifted it in a silent thanks to the mystery man. He nursed his own drink, glass barely filled with a dark, amber liquid. He pointed to the seat next to you and you hoped you didn’t look too desperate by nodding your head. 

He got off of the stool and damn. He was fine as hell. He was taller than you, impossibly tall, with long legs and decked out in a burgundy suit with a dark gray shirt, tie slightly askew from around his neck. The top button was undone, showing off a chiseled chest. 

You watched as he sauntered over and sat one seat away from you. Close enough to converse while still giving you some space. You were really starting to like him. 

He smiled and introduced himself. “But most people call me Stunna,” he said and smirked like he admired how silly that was. 

“Dare I ask why?” You asked.

“He shrugged. Something that stuck around since high school. You wear one shiny outfit and everybody’s a clown all of a sudden,” he said. 

You laughed, shaking your head and taking a sip of your drink. “You did not!” 

Stunna laughed, showing a radiant smile that completely transformed his face. He was stunning before, but he smiled like the first break of dawn across the horizon. Now you understood why they called him Stunna. 

“I promise I did. Although I burned all the evidence because no one needed to keep that around,” he said.

Conversation flowed easily with him. You told him your name and why you were at the conference. He told you all about his modest gaming company. Modest. You gushed all over the games that he produced, sharing your joy over the games that meant so much to you.

“There’s no way you really play,” he said. 

You nodded. “Believe it. Night and Sky? I cried by the time I finished and then played it fifty thousand more times,” you said.

Stunna laughed and shook his head. “You have no idea how much this means to me. It’s good to hear something good about my work every once in a while,” he said. 

Since you had that Stunna in front of you, you had thousands of butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Still, you persevered, rapidly asking him questions. Bless him, he answered every single one. 

“Oh my god, I’m sorry. I’m no better than the people in the audience,” you said. You slapped your hands to your cheeks, feeling utterly mortified. You wished the soft, dark wood of the bar would swallow you whole. You instantly regretted nerding out all over a stranger, all over Stunna of all people. 

Stunna laughed. “I promise, you’re all good,” he said. When you shook your head, he chuckled again. Oh his voice was deep like chocolate and as savory as coffee. You just wanted to take a deep dive into it and never look back. 

And his eye contact was insane. You often had to look away from him, body heating in all the right ways from being under intense scrutiny. You waved your hand to dismiss his words or more like a visual cue to clear your mind from all of your racing, nasty thoughts. 

Maybe it was the long day. Maybe it had been too long since you were satisfied by something other than your fingers. But all you could think of was being bold. Warning signs and danger tones rang in your head as you thought of taking home a complete stranger. You watched enough TV to know that people never had the best intentions.

But hell. You were too willing to ignore all of that. You took in the cut of his suit, tailored, not off the rack. The flash of gold on his wrist from his huge watch. The long, thick fingers that you imagined wrapped around your throat.

And his lips. God, his lips. You wanted to get lost in those full lips. The way he spoke. The bite of hood to his tone to suggest that he wasn’t silver bred. The way that he absently stroked his teeth with his tongue. Was he doing it on purpose? To drive you completely mad? 

You saw his lips moving but swore that no sound came out. You weren’t drunk, just a little tipsy, so you couldn’t blame it on that. It was simply that you felt him. Was that weird? There was this connection getting built between the two of you, brick by brick, laugh by laugh. 

“I’m sorry?” You asked.

“I said, are you good?” He asked.

You nodded your head. So, so, so good. Your mind had a tendency to wander so you pulled it back in by looking at Stunna’s lips. It was just as distracting as his eyes but at least you didn’t get flustered looking at his lips. 

Conversation turned towards griping about the conference, finding camaraderie by complaining about the same things. The overpriced food, the stinky attendants, and the anxiety of it all getting up in front of a crowd. Still, there were good parts to being a nerd.

Bold. Bold. Bold. Your heart was thundering in your chest, beating rapidly, out of control. So fast, you felt it at the base of your throat. You took the final sip of your drink, letting the sweet burn travel down to warm your belly. Your pussy gave a little throb like she was encouraging you on, rooting to get fucked as much as you were. 

You stood up and grabbed your things. Stunna looked disappointed for a moment, smile dropping inch by inch. It felt cruel to tease him like this but you couldn’t help it. You dug in your purse and pulled out the spare keycard.

You usually carried one, but you were in a rush this morning and ended up bringing both. You slid it across the bar table as you walked closer to him.

He smelled amazing up close. Like wood smoke and fresh mountain air. You leaned in a little closer than you would normally dare, bringing your hand close to his. You tapped the keycard, pushing it under his palm.

“Why don’t you come meet me upstairs,” you said, not really phrasing it as a question. Stunna lifted an eyebrow, looking from the key card, to your eyes, to the low swoop of your cream dress. 

His eyes moved slowly back to yours, locked, a smile curving his lips. “That right?” He asked. 

You nodded, stepping closer. You put your hand on his forearm, leaning into his ear. “I like it nasty,” you whispered in his ear, ending it with a gentle kiss to his cheek. 

Stunna sighed, sealing it with a chuckle. You walked away, hoping you weren’t too forward, as you hurried to the elevator. You forgot to give him a time limit and wondered if he’d follow you too soon, not even giving you the chance to strip and entice him upon entrance.

You rode the elevator to your floor, anticipation thrumming in your veins at the prospect. There was a tiny bit of doubt. After all, he had plenty of reason to think it was a trap. Ill intentions knew no bounds. But you hoped. Hoped that he’d join you on this crazy idea in this random city and at this random graphic arts conference. 

The paisley flooring blended well with the pinkish brown walls, striped paneling along the bottom half giving it a subtle interesting look. There were lights covered in intricate bowls, illuminating your way to your room. 

Your hands shook as you opened your door, glancing behind you at the elevator doors. Was he on it now? Was he eager? Would he show? Fuck, you hoped so. You’d hate to have to take care of yourself tonight. It wouldn’t be the same. 

You closed the door, scurrying inside and flipping only the lamp light on. You pushed your suitcase out of the way, cleaned up lingering trash people tended to  accumulate in hotel rooms. You hurriedly locked away any valuables, your wallet and the like. Just in case. You could be a dumb bitch right now, but at least you weren’t completely lost. 

You took off your dress, hanging it up in the closet. You stood there in your cream lacy bra and panties, with little bows on the sides. You liked wearing sexy things. It made you feel confident and desirable. You kept your heels on and then sat down on your bed. 

It wasn’t long before there was a knock on your door. You gasped, wiping sweaty palms on your thick thighs as you got up and went to the door. The lock beeped, the mechanics whirring, as Stunna opened the door.

Seeing you standing here, posing, he stopped for a moment with a smile on his face. “Uh, damn,” he breathed, taking in your sexy form. You felt amazing under his gaze, reading the truth of his lust in his dark eyes. 

He still wore the burgundy suit and he had to turn to fit into your doorframe. Standing next to him, you did have to crane your head a bit, as you looked into his eyes. He bit his lip as he made a show of looking you up and down.

Everywhere he looked, you felt like a physical caress on your skin. You felt exposed even though you were covering the good bits. “Look at you looking so pretty. All of this for me?” He asked.

You nodded. “Don’t you know that you shouldn’t play with strangers?” He asked.

You grinned and shook your head. “I couldn’t help it,” you admitted. Shocked to find that it was the absolute truth. You truly couldn’t help it. You needed this man in the worst way. An ache burrowed into your core, leaving you feeling needy and desperate. 

He walked further into the room, taking one look around. He looked down, looking at your breasts and he licked his lips. “Get down on them knees,” he commanded.

You were on fire. Burning incessantly. Waves and waves of heat moving up and down your spine. You slowly got to your knees, bending down while looking him in the eyes. He smirked. “I’m clean, but I’d understand if you didn’t want to,” he said.

“I invited you up here, remember?” You asked. You fell completely to your knees, the plush carpet like heaven on your knees. 

“You can say stop at any time,” he said. 

Your teeth bit your bottom lip, kneel-walking closer to him. You looked up. You really had to crane your neck now. Your hands worked at his button and zipper, freeing the growing bulge between his legs. Your eyes widened. You knew that he’d be big but…he had an impressive dick print, filling out his dark briefs in the best way.

He had strong thighs, a dusting of hair on his legs. You pushed his pants down further, running your nails softly against his dick. He hissed, rolling his neck. “I can use my words,” you said. 

“That right? What else that mouth do then?” He took off his suit jacket, tossing it onto the nearby chair. He loosened his tie more, unbuttoning the second button on his shirt, and then rolled up his sleeves. He revealed his forearms, strong powerful works of art. 

You grinned and buried your face in his bulge, running your nose across the thick length. His fingers caressed your forehead, cheek, and chin. You moved to push down his briefs, dragging down his thighs and salivating at the thought of fitting him in your mouth. 

You could feel your essence gathering between your thighs, pussy aching and throbbing, begging to be played with. His dick sprang free, bouncing, as it waved in your face. He was incredibly huge. How were you going to fit him all in? 

You’d have to use both hands to satisfy this man. You looked at him as you opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out. Stunna grabbed his dick, tapping the tip against your tongue and moaning at the sight. 

You wrapped your lips around his length, suckling him down. He groaned, hands gripping the base of your neck and pulling you closer, taking him deeper. “Fuck, just like that. Get it nice and wet for your pussy,” he moaned.

You cried, picturing just that nasty image. You slobbered on him. Suckling and retreating, bobbing up and down, slurping and moaning. Hands massaging his shaft where your lips couldn’t reach. Stunna groaned as you sucked him off, grabbing a fistful of your braids. 

You cried, placing your hands on his thighs for leverage. It turned you on more and more, hearing his hisses and groans, knowing that he was fully clothed while you were not. He gripped your braids tighter, lifting an eyebrow at you.

You nodded, answering his silent question. Yes, you were alright. Yes, you were getting excited with the way he made sure you felt comfortable. Whatever this man wanted, you were willing to move heaven and earth to achieve it. 

“Fuck, this mouth is perfect. Damn girl, suck it like you own it. That’s all yours right there,” he moaned, encouraging you. You spat on his dick, suckling him back down. 

“You want it real nice and wet for that pussy, don’t you?” He asked. You nodded, gulping him down as far as you were able. 

Stunna jerked and twitched, abruptly pulling himself out of your mouth. You whined, leaning forward to try to suck him back in. “You keep doing that, I’ma bust,” he said and chuckled. 

“I want you to,” you said and pouted. You had no clue how he knew. How he knew what to say or how to treat you. How easy it was to surrender. No fight, no battle, no war to be won. You saw this man and you wanted. 

You wanted him in the worst way. And all it took was a little boldness on your part. A little shove in the right direction. A little clear and decisive action. Sliding your keycard to him was the wildest thing ever. Stuff of stories somewhere in the blogosphere. But here you were, catering to a man who knew what to do.

There was no coaching. No training. No room for you to argue and hassle over how to handle your body. Guys treated sex like they were lord and master over a woman’s body. As if you hadn’t spent your entire life with it. Every bump, mole, or scratch on you was accounted for. You knew your body best. So why wouldn’t a guy listen to how best to please you? 

None of that arrogance was present in Stunna. He eyed you like you were a goddess. Like there were curves and rolls that he wanted to explore, he just wasn’t sure where first. 

He held out his hands and helped you stand up. He grabbed your chin, pulling you in for a quick, bruising kiss. You gasped into his mouth, allowing his tongue to sweep in and explore your mouth. Your tongues dueled and danced, twirling and circling. He moaned as he sucked on your lips, tugging, feeling an answering tug in your pussy. 

You were dripping, absolutely ruining your panties. His hands caressed your shoulders, moving down your sides, and finally cupping your ass. He made a deep groaning sound, squeezing your ass and separating your cheeks just because he could. 

“Let me see how wet you are for me,” he said. He guided you to the bed, pulling on the middle of your panties. His knuckle brushed your wet heat and you gasped, looking at him.

He kept that same intense look in his eyes, staring at you while you moaned and whined. He bit his lip, watching you. Watching every sigh, every grimace, every jerk of your body. 

“How wet that pussy get?” He asked. He continued to rub his knuckle up and down your slit. You grew wetter under his attention, oozing your essence in slow waves. Your teeth were chattering, clicking as you felt your tummy getting tighter.

You gripped onto his forearm, squeezing and feeling his tendons move as he played with your pussy. He opened his hand, fingers swirling around your clit. Fuck, you were on fire. Burning and burning with no end to the suffering. 

“S-Stunna,” you stuttered. 

“Oh, say it again,” he growled, voice deep and commanding respect. 

“S-Stunna, fuck! Oh my god, oh my god,” you moaned. 

“Mhm, loud and clear, baby,” he moaned.

You moaned louder, letting him know verbally that he was doing something very well. He dipped his middle two fingers in your pussy and you leaned off of the bed, clutching his forearm. He grabbed your wrist with his free hand, pinning it to the bed near your head.

“Keep that shit down, fuck you fighting for?” He asked. “Let that shit go. Let it all go. Let the bullshit go and come get yours,” he said.

“Yes, sir, yes, sir,” you moaned, choppy, ragged sounds escaping you. You focused on your orgasm, teased it to the front as you thought about this gorgeous man bringing you pleasure. How he seemed to be a figment of your imagination.

Something your mind conjured up, surely. There was no way he could be this perfect. This focused on your pleasure. He used this thumb to press on your clit. And like a bottle rocket, you were off. Screaming your pleasure and entering the upper atmosphere. You couldn’t breathe, clutching the sheets and bringing it to tuck under your neck as you exploded on his fingers.

Stunna cooed, watching you. “So fucking pretty. So fucking good cumming all over these fingers. Fuck, I could watch you all day and night,” he groaned. “Pussy nice and fucking juicy.” 

He got to his knees, grabbing your thighs while you were momentarily out of it. You squealed as he pulled your ass off of the bed, moving your panties to the side, and then sealing his lips to your pussy.

“Oh, fuck! Stunna! Right there!” You screamed, hands flying to the back of his neck and holding on. Stunna planted his hands on your thighs and pushed, nearly folding you in half. There was pressure on your lower back, legs too thick to hold up on their own, even with his assistance.

You hooked your arms under your legs to hold them open, getting back into the groove of his tongue lapping at your juices. There were lewd, sucking noises as he ate you out. His tongue was big enough for slow circles that touched your clit and your entrance. Round and round he went, getting you worked up to the point that you couldn’t hold yourself proper anymore. You just wanted to collapse, to give in to the dying star in your heart as it wanted to blast you into pieces. Scatter you across the universe to drift endlessly. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you whispered. 

“Wet ass pussy. Can suck on this shit all night,” Stunna moaned, continuing to eat you out. It was official. Stunna ruined you for all others. No one else would be able to take you to such heights. Multiple times? You were turning into liquid jelly all at the masterful way he commanded your body. 

Stunna wiggled his tongue back and forth over your pussy, dipping his long tongue into your entrance before returning to your clit and becoming ruthless. He flicked his tongue faster and faster. Your tummy fluttered, getting tighter, twisting, toes curling.

“Look at me, pretty,” he demanded.

You whined as you looked to him for help. Stunna smirked. He watched you as he slobbered over your pussy, adding to your juices, and making your thighs slick. You caressed Stunna’s head, scratching his scalp.

Stunna moaned as you found a good spot, and he started to gyrate like he was already fucking into you. His arm jerked as you assumed he finally took himself into his own hands, tugging on his meat with a frenzied jerk. 

You came first, exploding on his tongue while screaming his name and shaking and twitching. Your eyes rolled back into your head, body shivering, light shooting behind your eyelids. 

“Stunna, Stunna, Stunna,” you hyperventilated. You needed mercy. You needed to tap out. But fuck, you were trying to make it to the finish line. Trying to be good so you could get a taste of that dick deep within your walls. You needed to get stretched out and disrespected. 

Stunna moaned as you shook on your way down from your orgasm. He wrapped up eating you out, slowing down, fewer and fewer licks. You were sensitive, twitching with every stroke of his tongue. 

“Stunna, please,” you rasped.

Stunna chuckled, standing up and wiping his dripping mouth. He smoothed your juices into his beard, letting you soak all of it. You licked your lips as you looked at him between half-lidded eyes. 

“Time to put in work, pretty,” he said. “You still with me?”

You nodded. “This is the best sex I’ve ever had,” you said. You were beyond feeling ashamed admitting that. You’d had some satisfying lays. Some not so much. But nothing, nothing, nothing compared to Stunna. That sexy smile. That deep voice. His natural manliness that only made you want to serve him. To give him whatever he wanted. To be his free use little whore who took his big dick whenever he needed to empty his balls. 

Stunna grinned, leaning over your overheated body. He kissed you. You tasted and smelled yourself on him. It only fueled you to gyrate against him. So needy already. He had been rocking your world all night and here you were begging for me. He hadn’t come once. Selfish, selfish, and yet, you continued to writhe your body against his. Silently pleading for him to go ahead and take you. 

“You’re fucking perfect, you know that? Perfect,” he whispered against your lips and went right back to kissing you. He kissed you like he ate you out, sloppy, desperate, and like it gave him absolute pleasure to feel your lips on his. 

Stunna stood up, and loosened the rest of his tie and slipped it over his head. He tossed it onto the floor and then went to work on his shirt, going through the buttons with unparalleled speed. He took the shirt off and you gasped, eyes widening to take in all of him.

He had an amazing, thick body. Broad shoulders. Lean hips. Legs for days. His chest rose and fell as he smirked, taking off his shoes, pants and briefs in one fell swoop. He snatched up his pants, pulling out his wallet and then pulling out a condom. You loved a prepared man. 

He took his time rolling the latex down his huge dick. You watched it glide further and further down to his base. He stepped back into the heat of your body, grabbing your hips to line you up properly. 

Stunna caressed your lips, thumb running across your kiss-swollen lips. “You can tell me to stop at any time,” he said. 

“I know,” you whispered and nodded, giving him that clear permission to do what needed done. 

Stunna grabbed his base and then guided himself inside, groaning at how you instantly gripped his dick. Sweat dripped down the side of his face. Fuck, he was gorgeous. His mouth hung open as he concentrated on your pussy, on fitting as much of him inside as he was able. 

He pulled out when he met resistance, plunging back in and getting deeper. He repeated the motion, letting you get used to his size. You pushed at his stomach. Not that you wanted him to stop. But fuck, you needed to hold onto something before you came apart at the seams. 

You took him more easily, all the prepwork well worth it. “Oh, oh, oh fuck,” you cried, sounds getting higher in pitch as he started to increase his strokes.

His hips moved in a roll, fucking into you. He gripped your hips, squeezing, punishing, as he continued on, slamming into your walls with enough force to shake the bed. He groaned as he found a deep rhythm, jackhammering inside your pussy. 

He moved his arms to brace himself on the bed, pushing your legs up in the process. You whimpered, looking at him. It was too much. Fuck, it was too much. And yet, it was not enough. Not nearly enough. 

“Oh Stunna, oh baby, oh fuck,” you moaned, throwing your head back against the mattress as you lost yourself to the throes of ecstasy. 

Stunna groaned. “Say it louder, pretty,” he said. He fucked and fucked, dropping his face to your chest and suckling your nipple through your bra. There was a wet heat on your chest but it wasn’t on your skin and it was driving you wild. You cried and begged, no longer aware of what you were saying.

You could be begging for the nastiest shit and you wouldn’t fucking know it. Not while he was hitting it so well. Not when he made sure to take care of you. He bit your nipple and pulled. 

Pressure built in your lower tummy, churning and twisting, until you gripped onto his shoulders and cried out again. This one had to be worse than the last. You whimpered as your left leg shook violently, spasms piercing your leg. Your choppy whine made you scrunch up and start crying, the orgasm too much for you. Feeling too good, to the point of pain. 

Stunna gripped your throat, hard enough to mean business, but light enough that you could escape if you wanted. You moaned, eyes in the back of your skull once more. “Squeezing my shit. You’re doing so well, pretty. So well. Pussy so juicy. So wet,” he moaned as he finally let himself go.

His tortured moan was music to your ears, face slack in relief, as his dick pulsed and throbbed inside. He felt even bigger, stretching you, splitting you open. 

Your harsh breaths matched his as he leaned to the side, on his elbow, while he slowly softened inside. You rubbed his shoulders and his back, almost ashamed of the scratches you must have left there. Soft enough, he pulled out with a choked moan. 

He kissed your skin, kissed your neck, leaving hot wet kisses up to your lips. He gave you a sweet, tender kiss before disappearing into the bathroom. 

You were spent. Blissed out. Fucked to within an inch of your life. All you could do was stare in a daze at the ceiling, wondering what the fuck just happened. Sure, you were there for the festivities, but you were at a loss. There were no thoughts in your head. No swirling, lingering worries about the conference or the lecture you had to give tomorrow. 

Stunna returned to the room, running a warm washcloth between your legs. You whimpered and slapped at his arm.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. You made such a mess, pretty,” he cooed as he cleaned you up, flipping the washcloth and rubbing down your thighs as well. You felt so cherished. So in tune with him. 

“Thank you,” you whispered.

Stunna chuckled. “No, thank you. I’ve never felt like that with anyone else,” he said. 

“Me neither,” you gushed and smiled. 

You couldn’t believe that your ho phase was starting at your big age but you were here for it. Here for more chances like this. You’d likely never see him again, long distance relationships never working out for anyone. You were too greedy. Too needy. You wanted to climb underneath whoever you were with and never come up for air. You couldn’t do that if the guy was halfway across the country. 

“Give me a minute or two to recover. I’m currently paralyzed,” you said and huffed a laugh.

Stunna laughed. He climbed onto the bed and helped you sit up further. You remained on your bed, staring up at him. He laid on his side, head on his hand and leaning against his elbow. He used his right hand to trail his fingers up and down your body, creating a lazy figure 8 pattern.

You talked well into the night, learning more and more about each other’s interests. You moved from video games, to books, to movies. When your yawns became too frequent, barely able to keep your eyes open, Stunna kissed both of your eyelids and ordered you to get under the covers.

He scooted in behind you after turning off the light. “I can leave if you want me to,” he offered.

You wiggled your ass against his front, dick fitting into the crook of your ass. He was huge even at rest. You sighed in deep contentment, snuggling into his heated chest. “Stay. I got plans for you,” you said.

Stunna chuckled and got more comfortable, pulling you into his body. He sighed as well, flexing his hand over your belly in a possessive way that made your heart skip. 

“Well, then, I have to stick around for these plans. Sneak peak?” He asked.

Your answering snores let him know that you were gone, off in dreamland. He chuckled and kissed your forehead, whispering good night and sending a quiet prayer to the universe, thanking it for bringing you to him. 

The end.

There's more Stunna! The Secret Big Stunna Files

[blakeswritingimagines]

Dating Yandere Logan Howlett Would Include:

Very Possessive, won't take no for an answer. You are his. If he says jump you say how high. Extremely over-protective, very obsessive, very controlling, extremely possessive. You do everything he says no questions asked of you. And he makes the rules.

He will stalk you and watch you every day, make sure you eat, make sure you're okay, make sure you look good. If someone looks at you he will glare, if anyone makes a pass at you he will intervene. He will be extremely jealous and doesn't like anyone but him touching you.

He is going to be very touchy, and very affectionate, he will take any chance to touch you even if he knows it's a bad time. He will never want to be apart from you. He will be obsessed with everything about you. Your past, your present, and especially your future. He will be very overbearing.

He's very dominant, He's very sarcastic, rude, and angry most of the time but he will have his moments when he's soft or romantic. He can be a very caring person under all that anger. But the smallest mistakes can set him off. He's extremely aggressive when angry.

He also has a thing for his partner wearing his jacket, He's protective of those close to him like his family ( X-MEN ). He's got a habit of using terms of endearment with as love, pet, and a few others. He can be quite the cuddler if he feels like it. He's also grumpy most of the time he's not a morning person.

He hates when people touch or mess with his stuff, He'll be very rough with you in intimate moments, He has a short fuse and is often quick to anger, and He has a habit of swearing a lot. He's also not big on talking about his past. He's loyal and will try to make you happy. He enjoys violence and doesn't really like being bossed around.

In front of others as a yandere, he's very possessive like putting a hand on your waist to pull you close, very overprotective like if another man looks in your direction it'll set him off. He doesn't want anyone looking at you except him, He will growl if any man gets close to you. He'll make it clear he owns you and you're his only.

There would be rewards for you when you obeyed him, He'd get you something like a necklace with his initial or something to show that you are his. He'd also give you a lot of cuddles and praise you for being good, he might also be a bit more romantic or gentle with you. He'd tell you that you're a good pet and that he loves you.

His punishments would be to take certain privileges away from you like phone privileges or watching TV. He'd send you to your room or give you a corner to sit in and you'd be on restriction. But he also punishes you by depriving you of touch, affection, and attention. If were to punish you he'd not touch you at all. He also punishes you by making you wear a collar with a leash to show who you belong to.

Fighting with each other he will be dominant while fighting with you just so he can prove who's in charge, he'll push you against the wall, hold your arms above your head so you can't fight back against him and he'll get in your face so he can look at you while he talks. He'll tower over you and make it clear that he's stronger than you so you can't fight back. He'll hold you in place so you can't make any more movements to try and defy him.

The kind of affection he'll give is holding you in his lap and giving you head pets, He would often make you sit in his lap. Cuddling will also be his favorite way to show affection. There would also be sweet soft kisses if you do what he says or obey him, he would also be quite the cuddler when he feels like it.

Dates if he feels like it, He'd take you somewhere expensive and he'd pay for the whole date. He'll hold your hand and he'll get your chair for you. If you do what he says he might let you order whatever you want. He'll be quite gentlemanly during the date and maybe a slight bit romantic, He'll take you home afterwards and if you were good he might kiss you goodnight.

He'll fight with anyone who tries to separate you from him, He's quite aggressive when it comes to anyone trying to take you away from him. That also includes the other X-MEN, if they get in the way or mess with him, they'll quickly find themselves flat on their ass on the floor if they try to pull him off of you or stop him.

Absolutely he will kill for you, If anyone tries to hurt you or make you sad he will end that person, he will do whatever it takes to protect his love. He will do anything to keep you safe and he will make sure that no one or nothing harms you.

If you have powers and abilities he'd watch you use them, he'd study you as you use them closely, see how powerful your powers are, and how he can use them in a way where you only use them when he says so. He'd want to be the only one you use your powers in front of. He'll be very possessive and controlling of your powers, he'd be in control of them completely.

Yes, he has a shrine, it's a big photo album, it's filled with pictures of you, notes or letters from you, and other things like that to remind him of you. There'd also be your pillow which is very important to him even having a picture of you near it. There'd also things you owned that were left at the X-MEN headquarters in his room.

He'd want to propose the traditional way, down on one knee looking up at you, he'd ask you the question and would want you to say yes. He doesn't care where to ask he'd do it in the middle of the park if he wanted to. Once you've said yes he'd pick you up, hold you close, kiss you fiercely, and carry you all the way back to the X-MEN headquarters.

If there were ever to be kids he would want a boy he could raise to be just like him, strong and aggressive like he is and a little girl like you, he'd want to spoil the little girl. He'd spoil her to death and be very protective of her, which also means that he'd be overprotective of you and the child/children during and after pregnancy.

If you didn't want or couldn't have kids he would be fine with it, he doesn't need kids to be happy as long as he has you and only you then he's happy. He'd accept that you don't or can't have kids and love you no less. There would also be more cuddles and affection to make up for it.

"You're mine, no one else gets to touch you or look at you, only I do. You belong to me and me only, you will do everything and listen to me without questioning or else there will be consequences. You are beautiful, you are strong. You are perfect, but you belong to me. Don't ever forget that."

Bondage- He likes having you tied up, bound up, and at his mercy and being unable to move or fight back.

Domination- He's dominant and this is one of his absolute favorites, having full control of you.

Praise, He loves the idea of you looking up at him and being good for him, so he loves to let you know when you're being good and praise you.

Spanking/Biting - He loves being aggressive and leaving behind his mark on you. Biting, he's gonna leave his love bites all over your body to show that you're his.

Daddy - he loves it when you call him that while you're being a brat or a tease, he'd get all worked up and would want to take you right there.

[nebbys-personal-nebula]

the biggest, most copium agent 4 theory from this clown of an agent four enjoyer

apologies for the wait on this! i wanted to unlock all of the dev diaries to make sure i could squeeze out every last bit of lore...

anyways SIDE ORDER SPOILERS INCLUDING POSTGAME

so let's start with the common knowledge. most people know by this point that agent 4 has a palette. it's one of the first you get in the game, after pearl and marina's. to the surprise of nobody, it is a splattershot...

according to what marina says about the memverse, palettes are a portion of a person's soul dragged into the memverse. so agent 4's soul got dragged in here somehow. how did this happen, and why? there are a few possibilities...

marina mentions in her eighth dev diary that she needs someone to handle system security. she writes: "maybe i can ask that person cuttlefish introduced me to for help there." this is still pretty vague, but we know from smollusk's note on agent 4's palette that it is definitely agent 4. quote:

"THIS is who mawina wanted in charge of memverse security? this unfwappable, free-spirited so-and-so? i would never abide it!"

the question is: if agent 4 was intended to be security for the memverse, then where are they? this leads us to the parallel canon boss!

note that figure in the center. even though all descriptions for this boss describe it as "a lot like eight", it is clearly an inkling with its pointed ears and hair.

the hairstyle is significant, too. all art of this boss, including its icon, display it with the "haircut" style. why does this matter? because official art of agent 4 also uses this style:

on top of that, people have reported that if you have splatoon 2 save data on your switch, the boss will use whatever hairstyle your inkling uses in that game (with that inkling, of course, being agent 4). unfortunately, i forgot to take a screenshot of my save, but maybe someone could reblog this and confirm?

another thing to note about that agent 4-looking robot in the center is that they're wielding the order shot, which is the same weapon you get from agent 4's palette.

so what exactly am i getting at with all this? let's read a little more of smollusk's notes on agent 4...

"buut...no weason such stwength shouldn't be used to pwotect a world of order. an order defense force is MUCH cooler than a new squidbeak splatoon anyway!"

this phrasing is particularly interesting to me because it implies smollusk wants to, or already has utilized agent 4's strength in some way. additionally, smollusk regards fans of chaos in a very similar way. for almost all of them, he argues they must be "punished". examples:

"she must be PUNISHED!" - callie's palette

"her chaotic lies must be PUNISHED!" - shiver's palette

"for the sake of order, they all must be PUNISHED!" - frye's palette

"it annoys me, so he must be PUNISHED!" - big man's palette

"he must be PUNISHED!" - sheldon's palette

"i sentence him to PUNISHMENT!" - dj octavio's palette

almost all of these characters are on the side of "chaos". callie and dj octavio were on the chaos side of the final fest, while shiver, frye, and big man rep the splatlands, basically the land of chaos. no idea what smollusk's beef is with sheldon though that guy was neutral LOL

on the other hand, smollusk is notably softer with characters on the side of "order", like marie, murch, and marina (obviously). he still critiques them, but he doesn't sentence them to "punishment".

agent 4 was on the side of chaos in the final fest. so why didn't smollusk sentence them to "punishment"?

perhaps it's because smollusk is already making use of them...by using their soul to control the parallel canon boss!

think about it! the bosses of the tower are basically security, right? they keep you from reaching the top! since smollusk knows from marina that agent 4 was meant to be security, it could have pulled in their soul to fulfill that job. that's why agent 4's palette is there, and that's why we don't physically see them in the dlc! because they're grayscaled in the outside world!

…it is also definitely possible that the boss is just INSPIRED by agent 4, taken from marina's memories, or something like that. but i like this theory because it explains why agent 4's soul ended up in the memverse.

one other thing - i think the popular opinion is that the parallel canon boss are "robots", due to the way they move, their eyes glowing, the filter on their voice, etc...this is probably true, but have you ever wondered if the boss is actually a real inkling (a digital…real…inkling? you get the idea) if it was just a robot like the others, why would it specifically have ears and hair? not only that, but you can get the parallel mask from the priz shop:

which you wear on your face. what if this is the real agent four, wearing this parallel mask? their gray coloring could be because they're grayscaled! after all, we never actually see a representation of grayscaling in-game. the name implies that they'd actually turn gray in some way, maybe in the color of their tentacles. but this could be the most dramatic extent of it!

this is definitely a stretch, but you can consider it food for the die-hard agent 4 angsters out there. love you guys <3

feel free to reblog if you have thoughts, add-ons or even counterpoints! i find this all really interesting

[guybitesatgames]

The Magnus Protocol Speculation (spoilers for TMAGP episodes 1 and 2 and general themes from TMA):

I've seen a few posts about how Protocol's introduction seems thematically opposite of TMA's introduction. Naturally I can't find them now, but the ideas that stuck out were: -the notes from Protocol's theme music being an inversion of Archive's theme -MAG 1's Anglerfish luring someone in, vs. the case of RedCanary, where something is decidedly trying to keep people out. -Alice's firm stance that Sam needs to stop digging and mentally dump everything he hears from a case might indicate a connection to The Dark (if anyone can find the posts I'm talking about, I'll happily edit them in. Tumblr's search is AWFUL)

All of this has me thinking about how the mission of The Magnus Institute and the mission of the OIAR could be complete opposites. The public-facing service the Institute provides, is this: if something inexplicable happens to you, you can come to the Institute, tell us about it, and we will investigate. The Institute will send a team (even if that team is just Martin with a flashlight), they'll try to figure it out, and you (the public) can be at ease. From what we've seen so far, the OIAR inverts everything: if something inexplicable happens to you, the obscure OIAR will find out, regardless of how private that information should be. The OIAR will take that information, and send it to… well, Alice seem to think "no one". It gets labelled and filed away to never be seen or acted upon. The people doing the labeling can be at ease - it's no longer in their hands, they don't need to worry about it. In fact, those who do worry about it and think too hard - Sam and Gwen - face backlash from the other workers. Someone Else Is Handling It.

MAG 01 sees a new boss charged with cleaning up and organizing the old boss's mess to bring order. TMAGP 01 sees a new grunt worker being told to tiptoe around the mess and embrace chaos.

I don't subscribe to the idea that Smirke's 14 will be the same and relevant to Protocol. But if they were, I wouldn't be so quick to align the OIAR with the Dark alone. I see some high concept elements of the Buried here. Information isn't being concealed the way I'd expect with the Dark; it's being given a neatly informative headstone in the form of a DPHW index code and put Forever Deep Below.

And our team is going to have to DIG.

[krillium]

Having Thoughts once more about Jon and Martin, especially Jon. I think Jon fell in love with Martin around S2-S3 AND that he never really hated him. I'm not going to say he didn't bully him without justification because he did. What I'm going to say is why he did it.

When I was six-seven, I was heavily bullied. In this context, I targeted another student. I'm not proud of this, but it's something I did, so I have to accept it happened. I didn't hate her, not really. We just had some sort of rivalry that I took too far.

I believe Jon was in a somewhat similar situation. He didn't hate Martin per se, he probably just felt inferior due to all the teasing and challenges to his authority of Tim and Sasha who were supposed to be his friends. I don't think either of them did it with malicious intentions but Tim was the popular kind of guy and that type of people hurt the weird kids without realising. What for Tim was light-hearted teasing, for Jon was a way of losing control and he probably felt made fun of. So in order to feel in charge... There was Martin.

This is just an explanation, not a justification whatsoever. That's not a good way to deal with that situation. What he did was wrong. Completely wrong and cruel. Most bullies have been bullied before and that doesn't justify anything.

So he didn't really believe what he said, I don't think he even knew Martin would hear those tapes. And that brings us to Martin's statement. There, he tried to stop Martin, probably to protect him from the nightmares (by this point he had taken at least one live statement, but he hadn't taken any from his assistants). Which is not an act of love, but of bare human decency. But he also let him his cot. That's also not an act of love, but a boss being nice and caring while still being a boss.

Then there is a shift after the confrontation in S2, there, he starts to appreciate what Martin does and it's somewhat proud of him. That's when he must have started to fall in love with him. Because Georgie recognised Martin with only the description that Jon gave her. Also, why else would Georgie tell Jon to talk to Martin?

Some argue that Martin said they only bonded by trauma and Jon didn't correct him. Well, are you really going to believe the supernaturally depressed character and the incapable of expressing his emotions character about... Emotions? Yeah, sorry, no, I don't think they're right. I'm not saying they didn't bond over trauma because it just isn't true, but they could have bonded over other things. More slowly, probably, but they would.

Ah, almost forgot. The Martin and Elias conversation. Elias didn't have any material of Jon being actually terrible, in fact, any extra information would have proven otherwise. That's one of the reasons he didn't do that. Also, Martin's mother was more important to Martin than his crush on Jon, so there's also that.

Jon was terrible, but not due to hate. And he did get better. Also, Jon did mean the "let's gouge our eyes out and leave this hell" conversation. He was desperate for an excuse to just leave. And he would have. He let Jared take two ribs from him just to save Daisy. Do you really think he wouldn't do anything just as crazy for Martin?

[plushieclan]

Moon 11 Gathering

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Mudpaw was never very good at firsts.

Last moon, Rainfeather left her behind to watch over Frozenpaw and Blossomtail. But when she expressed her anxiety about not being able to help her brother, she expected she’d get another pair of hands. Not this.

Rainfeather had elected to stay behind this moon. Frozenpaw’s wound was looking a bit concerned to him, so he wanted to take care of him himself. Mudpaw was grateful her brother was getting such treatment, but… that left her as the sole cleric in charge of the Gathering!

If there was one thing Mudpaw was bad with, it was large groups. She always felt anxious about everything she did— was she holding herself right? Was she talking right? Had she made a social blunder that would cause a war? The more cats around, the more exacerbated these fears became.

Normally, Rainfeather would shield her from the brunt of it. He had a way of making her feel safe— she supposed it was from his large stature and understanding of her irrational fears. He would take control of the conversation and steer Mudpaw in the right direction. But that safety net was totally gone this moon.

She looked over at Rainfeather, who was barking orders to Nightflower. She’d been on cleric errand duty for the past two moons, supposedly as “punishment for not telling me about that vision sooner!” Rainfeather would say. She hoped the two of them would be ok with the injured.

Tigerpaw bounded to her side as the group left the camp.

“Hey Mudpaw!” he said cheerfully. “What’s it like, being in charge?”

“Terrifying.” she admitted. Tigerpaw was the sibling she was closest with; she’d never lie to him.

Tigerpaw nudged her while walking. “Don’t even worry about it. It’ll be perfectly fine. Plus, you get to boss people around!” he grinned, “Come on, boss me around. Go for it.”

She laughed slightly. “Uh, you’re not allowed to get in any fights this Gathering! Got it?”

He groaned, “That was one time!”

“One time is still too many.” She reminded him.

“Well, if I see that stupid Jaggedpaw, I’m not liable for what happens next!”

“Quiet down back there.” Darkstar snapped.

This had been hard to get used to. Darkstar was normally the kind and lenient one. She was used to Starleaf getting on their case— Mudpaw always thought she was very cold for a former mediator. That being said, Darkstar had been a bit more agitated as of late. He looked quite bad. His eyes were sunken in, and his gait seemed weak. Rainfeather said that he believed Darkstar’s illness to be something aggravated by the stress of the last few moons. To be honest, he seemed worried about Darkstar’s health. He had given her a bundle of poppy seeds and other soothing herbs, just in case.

She bounded over to him and Starleaf. “Sorry about that.”

Darkstar just sighed. Starleaf pulled her to the side.

“Give those herbs to me. He isn’t likely to listen to you.” she stated.

Stars, she was always so harsh! “Will he listen to you?”

“No. But I’ll slip them in his meal when he isn’t looking.”

Mudpaw balked. “That’s… that’s not allowed!”

“I have Rainfeather’s permission, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Starleaf said, as if that was the problem. She noticed Mudpaw’s expression, and softened up. “Look, I know Darkstar. He works himself to the bone with no reward. He won’t take the medication because he believes someone else deserves it, not him. I’ve tried to tell him that powering through will only make it worse, but he isn’t listening.”

Mudpaw felt extremely uncomfortable. Starleaf wasn’t an open person to someone who wasn’t her family. Having the deputy bare her heart out like this to her felt strange. Is this what Rainfeather always dealt with?

Mudpaw stood her ground. “I won’t have you administering medication to someone who doesn’t consent to it. I’ll convince him to take it.”

Starleaf sighed. “Come and get me if that doesn’t work, ok?”

—

The announcements at the Gathering were extremely eventful. It seemed like Crystalclan was the only clan that hadn’t had a busy moon. Honestly, Mudpaw was glad it wasn’t that. Dealing with the injuries and lack of herbs had been hard enough. Instead of going up to the front, Darkstar had settled himself in the hay at the back of the loft. He stared into space in a way that worried Mudpaw.

Mudpaw had met up with the other clerics like any other Gathering. The usual representatives were there; Aspenstripe and Mitepaw of Treeclan, Pearlheart and Flyheart of Grangeclan, and Blackberry of Swampclan. However, today Blackberry had an apprentice with him. This apprentice had distinctive heterochromia; one green eye, and one partially red one. He must be Sharppaw, Mudpaw thought. But before they could socialize, the Gathering announcements had begun.

Treeclan had two new apprentices, Echopaw and Creekpaw. Badgerstar also announced the death of one of their senior warriors. Mudpaw could see Aspenstripe bow her head.

Redstar came next. He announced a new apprentice as well, a molly named Rosepaw. Unlike the other two apprentices, she was quite small. But what really concerned Mudpaw was the amount of scars on the kit’s tiny body. Her leg was twisted and mangled with scars. At first, she thought the kit might have been attacked by a coyote or fox. But around her neck was a large, distinct bite scar— where a warrior might make their killing blow. A cat did this to her, Mudpaw realized. Who would be so heartless to attack such a young cat so viciously? In that moment, Mudpaw’s eyes were drawn to the forever serene Redstar.

Last came Finchstar, who had both sad and good news. Apparently, some of his kin had become apprentices. Their father, Goldfoot, was beaming. That was Finchstar’s nephew, Mudpaw remembered. However, a young queen had died out in the territory, leaving behind her five kits. With this news, Mudpaw noticed Aspenstripe and Mitepaw looking at each other.

With that, Finchstar dismissed everyone to mingle and the Gathering begun.

Mudpaw quickly took the rickety stairs up to the loft to give Darkstar his medicine. She also brought a small vole. He was sitting in the hay, eyes closed.

She placed the vole and bundle of herbs next to Darkstar.

“Mmm… thank you, Mudpaw.” he said, before working on the vole.

“Eat the herbs last, they work best with a full stomach.” she reminded.

He waved her away. “I don’t need them. Take them with you.”

“Well, alright then,” she ducked down to grab the herbs, “if you want to be selfish.”

With that final word, it was like something changed in his expression. “Selfish..?”

Mudpaw looked back at him. “It’s awfully selfish of you to refuse this medication.”

His eyes narrowed. “It… what?”

“Because,” she placed it back on the ground, “the people around you care about you. And watching you refuse to let yourself feel better hurts them. Starleaf, Nightflower… what would they think, knowing you’re refusing the medication that would make you feel better? I can tell you. It makes them really sad.” she thought back to Starleaf’s worried face.

He looked at her with a strange expression that Mudpaw couldn’t recognize. Did… she maybe not tell it to him convincingly enough?

“Plus, me and Rainfeather put a lot of effort into this medicine for you. It makes us sad when our work goes to waste.” she added.

He sighed. Oh stars, was that too much?

“I get it Mudpaw.” he pulled the bundle towards himself and swallowed it. “I’m fine… but if it gets you to stop, I’ll take it!”

Oh, she had annoyed him so thoroughly he took it to get her to go away.

“Oh. Ok. Thank you.” she scampered off. It succeeded, but now she felt even more insecure. Damn it all to the lake!

She found her way to the other clerics, her stomach a twisted ball of nerves. There was no way she could eat now.

As usual, Pearlheart was the one to greet her.

“Muddy! Is it just you tonight?”

She nodded. “Rainfeather stayed behind to take care of some work.”

“Wonderful.” Blackberry grumbled. Blackberry was better mannered than Rainfeather, but he seemed to enjoy talking to him a lot.

“He’ll be back next moon.” she added.

“Don’t worry dear. You won’t have to socialize with anyone but us!” Flyheart chuckled. “We’ll scare off all the unfortunate visitors.”

“There’s one coming right now!” Pearlheart nudged her sister. Flyheart looked over and smirked. “Well, let’s teach him a lesson then.”

Mudpaw looked over. To her dismay, she saw a large orange bundle of fur barreling towards them. “That’s… not a visitor.”

“Who is it?”

“MUDPAW!” yelled the figure.

“My unfortunate littermate.” she replied.

Tigerpaw skid to a halt just before he hit Mudpaw. “Oh, emergency!”

“What is it this time?”

He looked bashful. “Well, I uh… took what you said to heart and tried to apologize to Jaggedpaw.”

Her heart sank. “Oh no.”

“She’s really angry! I think she’s gonna get me!” he wailed.

“Well, you can hide here if she hasn’t—“ Mudpaw started

“YOU!”

Never mind.

Tigerpaw shrank away from the voice. “Ah! I said I was sorry!”

Jaggedpaw narrowed her eyes at him. “By saying that I really looked like a kit and that you can’t believe Swampclan would apprentice kits so early?!”

Mudpaw looked at her brother. “Are you kidding me? That was your apology?!”

“I thought it was a good one!”

“Run them by me next time.” Mudpaw sighed.

Jaggedpaw looked like she was on the edge of tears. “Because of you, my dad— he— I—“ she didn’t finish her sentence, choking up.

The apprentice with heterochromia, Sharppaw, ran up to his sister. He pressed himself into her side. “Come on, just let this one go.”

She pulled away from him. “That’s so easy for you to say, you don’t have to worry about him!”

“I… Jaggedpaw…”

“Leave me alone!”

With that, she turned and ran.

Tigerpaw sighed. “Oh, I thought she was never going to go!” Mudpaw internally wanted to smack her brother.

But with that, he skipped away.

Sharppaw turned to Mudpaw. “I’m… sorry about my littermate.”

Mudpaw shook her head. “No, I’m sorry about mine.”

He sighed, then pulled his face into a slight smile. “I’m Sharppaw. I didn’t know there was another cleric apprentice besides me and Mitepaw.”

That made sense. His first gathering was spent next to his sister and father; his second, she had stayed in camp. He never seemed to go to half-moon gatherings.

“I’m Mudpaw. I’m the Crystalclan apprentice.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mudpaw.” Sharppaw said, “There aren’t really any cats my age in the clan, so it’s nice to make a friend.”

“You should come to the half-moon gatherings. They’re much more fun than these.” she smiled.

“Oh.” his face fell a bit. “That’s… I’ll keep that in mind!” he looked over at Redstar, who was staring at him with chilling red eyes.

“I’ve got to go.” he said. As soon as he arrived, he had left. And left Mudpaw with a lot of questions.

As much as Mudpaw made friends with the others at the Gatherings, there was no real way for her to know what life back at their clan was like. For someone like her brother, who spoke before he thought, it probably wasn’t a problem. But for Mudpaw, she was left with an aching feeling that things for the two Swampclan heirs were worse than everyone thought.

As she sat there with her thoughts, she felt a tap on her shoulder. It was Mitepaw.

“Meet me and Aspenstripe outside.” she said.

—

Aspenstripe was waiting by a willow tree, just a few bounds away from the Four Corners.

“Good, you’ve made it.” she said. “I think we can help each other.”

“Each other?” Mudpaw asked.

“You need herbs. And we need to check in on someone in another clan.” Aspenstripe continued.

Mudpaw’s ears perked up. “You… what?”

“I need you to help Mitepaw sneak into Grangeclan’s camp. If you do that, I’ll give you half of our stored herbs.”

Mudpaw balked. Half? That was enough to replace everything they lost during the flood!

“But… isn’t that against the code?”

“The pursuit of healing should be above our own clanmates.” Mitepaw said. “That trumps over everything.”

“We have reason to believe that the recently orphaned kits in Grangeclan are in trouble.” Aspenstripe added.

Mudpaw considered for a bit, though there was only one answer she would have ever really picked.

“Ok. I’ll help out.”

“You two need to be back before the moon reaches a quarter down.” Aspenstripe pointed at the moon, which was just barely leaving its place at moonhigh.

“Alright, let’s do this.” Mitepaw said, looking at Mudpaw.

“I’ll cover for you two as best as I can. Hurry!”

—

Grangeclan’s meadow felt extra bare that night. It was easier for Mudpaw than poor Mitepaw— a territory of mostly forest makes the meadow feel even more exposed. Still, the small molly trudged onwards.

“We’re looking for the father of those kits.” she reminded Mudpaw.

“Alright, what does he look like?”

Mitepaw looked sheepish “I… don’t know that.”

“How do we find him then?”

“I have a plan.” Mitepaw said. “But I don’t think you’ll like it.”

Mudpaw scoffed. “It can’t be that bad.”

“I’m going to grab one of the kits and use them to lure him out of camp.”

Mudpaw paused. “But that— how do we even know if he’ll follow?”

“This is just an educated guess, but…” Mitepaw looked ahead, her eyes filled with determination. “The father had taken the kits with him, and clearly prepared a false queen to take parentage of them. He must have cared about these kits a little.”

Mudpaw gulped. “I guess I’ll follow your lead.”

Grangeclan’s camp yawned ahead of them. The entrance was flanked by a long-forgotten Twoleg fence. There, multiple tunnels made up the dens. The clearing was an indented area, surrounded by the tunnels.

“How do we tell which one is the nursery?” Mudpaw whispered.

“Follow me.”

Mitepaw stalked over to the tunnels, keeping low. The camp was surprisingly empty— likely, due to the truce kept during the full moon. Everything was quiet— everyone was sleeping.

Mitepaw kept herself on the outskirts, over the entrances. She swung her head down and sniffed each den opening. On the last one, she paused.

“This is it.” she jumped down to the entrance.

“How did you know?”

“I smell Wanderers and milk.”

The two apprentices lightly stepped their way into the nursery. There, a Wanderers queen was wrapped around five small kits and one larger one.

“Take one of the small ones.”

Mudpaw leaned down and picked up one of the smaller kits by the scruff. Her heart broke a little— the kit looked to be no older than two weeks old. He was a mottled gray kit with a white belly and paws.

He began to stir awake, so Mudpaw quickly rushed him outside. Mitepaw ran ahead of her, going towards another den.

“Ok, now let’s stay here for a bit. Let the kit cry.”

Mudpaw didn’t need to wait long. The kit awoke, mewling his head off.

She could hear stirring in the den ahead of them.

Before long, a flat-faced gray tom emerged from the shadows. His bleary eyes eventually went from fatigue to fear.

“Breezekit!” He yowled. He lunged toward the two apprentices.

“Stop! We’re clerics!” Mitepaw barked back. “We need to talk. Quiet down before you wake the entire camp!”

—

The tom, who introduced himself as Coppereye, held tightly to his kit. He had agreed to step outside of camp to talk to the two apprentices.

“Lakeface was the mother, correct?” Mitepaw questioned. “How could you just leave her there?!”

Coppereye looked worried. “I didn’t just leave her there! I spent the entire day caring for her after she gave birth!”

Mudpaw stopped Mitepaw. “I think we’ll understand further if we ask what happened in its entirety.”

Coppereye hesitated.

“I’m a cleric of Crystalclan. As an unaffiliated party, I will judge rationally and fairly. None of this information will leave this conversation.” Mudpaw said. This must have been why they asked for her.

Coppereye sighed, then spoke. “The plan started when we found out we were expecting kits. I know how bad her clan is about half-clan relationships— that’s why I suggested taking them myself. They’d have an easier time here. My friend Tawnyheart was also expecting kits, so we came up with a plan.”

“Near the border, the three of us would meet up before the due date. Tawnyheart would have her kits, and then Lakeface would have hers. I have some emergency cleric training because my father is close with Flyheart.” he sighed. “We couldn’t trust any of the clerics to help us.”

“We would have helped.” Mitepaw replied. “It’s our job.”

“I know about the factions in Treeclan. One against half-clan because of tradition and one against half-clan out of shame. Can I trust you will obey your code over your political affiliations?!“

“Not everyone is a part of those factions.” Mitepaw replied.

“Rich of you to say, when your mother led one!”

“Stop!” Mudpaw yelled. “Coppereye, continue your story.”

He paused to glare at Mitepaw, before speaking. “Everything went well, though Tawnyheart’s kit was quite weak. We stayed there for an extra day while both recovered. Then, Tawnyheart and I left with all six kits. The clan was immensely surprised to see such a big litter, but I never had an issue. I played the role of a dutiful father. But three days ago, Tawnyheart just… disappeared on her walk.”

“Did you find her body?” Mudpaw asked.

“No.” Coppereye admitted. “But I can’t understand what would have happened. Where did she go?”

Mitepaw spoke up. “She was murdered. Just like Lakeface was.”

Coppereye looked at her with horror. “Lakeface… what?!”

“She’s dead. And you and those kits will be next.” Mitepaw looked down at Breezekit, who was sleeping in his father’s arms.

“But… that’s impossible!”

“You remember my mother’s faction?” Mitepaw said, anger in her voice. “Well, there was one of her grandchildren that was so devoted to it that she killed one of her own uncles for his half-clan relationship. And then she was exiled for that. Now, she’s back for revenge against those she believes are unworthy to live. She thought that about Lakeface, she thought that about Tawnyheart, and she thinks that about you. So I recommend stepping up defenses around this camp and not letting those kits step foot outside the nursery.”

Coppereye looked dazed. “I… I need time to think.”

“Tell your answer to Flyheart and have her tell us at the next half-moon meeting.” Mitepaw turned to leave. Mudpaw followed afterwards.

“D-Do you think he listened?” Mudpaw said.

“No, but it’s out of our paws now.” Mitepaw sighed. “We have the ability to lay claim to the kits, but that would just cause an unnecessary war. For now, we just have to hope that Grangeclan is safe enough for them.

“He’s probably going to need some time to grieve, too…” Mudpaw remembered being in the nursery with her littermates after the incident. Her mother offered a shoulder for Blossomtail to lean on after losing her mate of many moons. She was too young to understand what was happening— all she knew is that her own father was still around. He dipped his head in about five times a day to play with the kits and take over for her mother for a bit.

Mitepaw looked up at the sky. “We don’t have much time left. Let’s go back.”

—

By the time they slipped back into the Gathering, it was nearly at its conclusion. The clans had started to separate to leave.

“Did you find him?” Aspenstripe asked.

“Yes. His name is Coppereye. Tell Flyheart to increase defenses on the camp— I don’t think he really listened to us.” Mitepaw said.

Aspenstripe nodded, and took her apprentice aside. Mudpaw waved a wordless goodbye to her.

Mudpaw found her way back to her clan, where her brother stayed.

“Where’ve you been?!” Tigerpaw looked confused. “You missed it. Penny’s supposed to be staying with us this moon.”

“She is?”

“Yeah! She’s super fun to talk to. I bet Nightflower’ll wanna meet her!”

Mudpaw laughed. He was always talking about Nightflower— it seemed like she was his best friend now.

“So, what were you up to?” Tigerpaw asked.

Mudpaw thought for a moment. Her mind raced over the adventure she just had— the exhilaration of racing through Grangeclan territory, the trepidation in their camp, the reconciliation of all of the information, this plot that they had discovered.

“Oh, not much… just getting some fresh air.”

[myboyknows]

"the confidence when he's playing a role vs the insecurity when he's being himself" is such a good way to put it, and there's times I've fantasized about having a line that deft to throw at the haters. I'll keep it in my back pocket if such a situation ever arises again.

Please do!

I've been an AtS fan for a long time, and something I've always found so compelling about Angel is how easy it is for him to slip into a disguise and walk into a situation armed only with his own confidence in the role he's playing. He does it several times - especially over the course of the first two seasons of AtS - and I am absolutely enthralled by it. He's suddenly an art museum guide, a police detective in charge of a crime scene, a priest, 'cool' vampire J-Don, a lawyer, a French guy who loves fashion. Angel would never go out in a Hawaiian shirt and beach hat on his own, but he has zero problem with becoming Herb Saunders: Clueless Tourist from Baltimore in front of a mob boss. There are a lot of things this says to me about his character:

He's clever.

He's spontaneous.

He's calm under pressure.

He's good at improv/bluffing and should probably call Rebecca Lowell's agent and just become an actor already.

He doesn't care how strangers perceive him. This is the one that I think a lot of fans don't really understand about Angel. This man does not give a fuck. The reason he wouldn't wear a Hawaiian shirt on a normal day but is happy to do it in front of Little Tony isn't because he's embarrassed for other people to see him in a loud shirt - clearly - but because Angel has his own particular style that he feels comfortable in as himself and doesn't want to wear something that doesn't appeal to him, unless he himself chooses to wear it for a reason. It's like with the pink motorcycle helmet. Angel has no problem with other people mistaking him for a gay man, so when he doesn't want to wear the ladies' helmet, it's not because it might affect anyone else's perception of him but because he doesn't want to wear that helmet and he didn't get a choice. He likes his dark clothes and he likes his car, and the fake swami accuses him of developing this type of style to cultivate a persona for other people to appreciate without taking into consideration that these things appeal to Angel himself regardless of what strangers think. The only folks that he does actually care about in terms of their impressions of him are his friends, and so he'll correct them (sometimes) when they misinterpret him, but often he lets them think what they want about him, too. Which is maybe why it feels like Angel is so often misunderstood in fandom - because so many fans simply accept other characters' opinions of Angel as if they are fact rather than actually looking at Angel himself. Like with the smiling thing. There's an overwhelming fannish opinion that Angel doesn't smile very much because there are characters in the show who say he should smile more. But outside of serious or dangerous situations, Angel actually smiles all the time, and if it's any less than Wes or Gunn then it's only because he's more often in situations where it would be really weird to be smiling. He's a pleasant guy unless he's been given a reason not to be!

I also headcanon that one of the reasons Angel is so good at pretending to be someone else is because human camouflage is something that is literally built into his physiology as a vampire. Pretending to be something they aren't is a super important skill for all vampires, not just defensively in order to move through the human-dominated world but also as a means of getting close to their primary source of food. Angel spent 150ish years using his human face to deceive his prey while hunting, then a further 100ish years using it to blend in and disappear. Wolf in sheep's clothing, except the sheep's clothing is a really fucking good impression of a normal human being and he can wear it all the time. It comes naturally to vampires to pass as something they're not (we're ignoring the friend of Xanderrrrr's here) and Angel has 250 years of experience of people-watching. If he couldn't do pretty good imitations of different kinds of people by this point, I'd be surprised and disappointed in him.

But also! When we first meet Angel in the show, he's had very little experience interacting with humans while he's trying to be himself and not play some role to accomplish some kind of purpose. He's never had friends before, at least not with a soul, and he has no example of another vampire with a soul to imitate or learn from. He's flying totally blind, navigating unfamiliar territory, AND has conflicting impulses. So when he's insecure about his feelings and actions and expectations in his own life, that is also as natural for him as the confidence when it comes to pretending to be someone else.

Er, thanks for coming to my TED Talk?

[zeldahime]

Highway to Pail Day 7

[Day 1] [Prev] [Next] @do-it-with-style-events

February 7: Fire-fly

Crawly and Aziraphale hadn't said anything to each other yet. They both knew the other was there, of course. They kept running into the building, running out again with people, with papyrus, with irreplaceable treasures stored for safekeeping. They passed each other in the smokey hallways, eyes meeting, finding solidarity.

They would talk later, of course, and find out they both had orders explicitly telling them to stay out of this skirmish and go elsewhere, Aziraphale to Jerusalem and Crawly to Memphis. Alexandria, they were both told, was above their pay-grades and a Dominion and a Marquis, respectively, would temporarily be taking over their duties in the city.

But right now the library was burning, and the humans couldn't withstand the flames and the carbon monoxide, and so angel and demon charged once more unto the breach.

Neither of them dared invoke miracles, in case their bosses were watching. One of the humans Crawly rescued passed out in his arms, and he could only hope the one scholars gathered outside fretting knew how to treat smoke inhalation.* Many of the scrolls were badly damaged, and the last seemed unsalvageable to their untrained eyes.

It was the humans who stopped the fire. From the outside, it had appeared the whole building was engulfed in flames, but in fact only the north side and the roof had been. The human scholars had closed and sealed doors as they fled, confining the fire to the mathematical and astronomical collections and some of the lesser-used literature and commentaries. They ran a bucket brigade in the middle of a battlefield, collecting water from the very harbor that was being burned by Caesar's navy.

It was nearly an hour after sunset by the time the fire was extinguished, everyone exhausted and grimy and in dire need of something to drink. Aziraphale and Crawly walked away from the scholars and the scrolls in silence, their feet carrying them along. They didn't speak for a good long while, until in front of a small residential building Aziraphale said:

"Wait here, just a moment. I'll get us some wine."

Crawly did, and Aziraphale emerged with two amphorae and handed one over. They continued their silent walk, eventually turning their backs on the red-orange blaze in the harbor, taking sips from their wine until they happened into one of the gardens of the Mouseion.

Aziraphale, at first thinking the amber lights at his feet were flames, stamped at them instinctively; Crawly pulled him back. "Fireflies, angel," he whispered, "flies. It's safe."

Aziraphale shrank back, horrified. Crawly dragged him to the center of the garden and sat them both down.

They watched the fireflies together and drank for a long while.

*Aziraphale would find out later, and next time he saw Crawly inform him, that the scholar who had passed out got better and remembered only that he was saved from the flames by Erato herself, the Muse to whom he had dedicated his study. "His description of you was rather vivid," he would say, a blush decorating his cheeks, "and not at all something appropriate to repeat in public. You made quite the impression."

More than 2,000 years would pass before Aziraphale would repeat the description, nearly verbatim, to Crowley in private, and Crowley would agree. If Aziraphale had said these things at the time, Crowley-then-Crawly suspected he would have discorporated on the spot simply hearing them from the uptight and unfairly beautiful Aziraphale's lips, never mind that they were someone else's words, and doing that in public would have just been plain embarrassing.

Author's note:

The fire of the Library of Alexandria is one of those myths that just refuses to die and is designed to make me personally irritable. If Livy (well, Plutarch's citation of Livy, that part of his work has been lost) and Cassius Dio are correct in saying books burned during Caesar's attack on the Egyptian fleet in 48 BCE, it almost certainly wasn't the library proper but instead warehouses by the docks being used to store books. If any part of the library itself burned, it was back up and running and beautiful by the time Strabo was kicking around Alexandria around 20 BCE. That's 28 years, so plenty of time to rebuild of course, but hardly a complete loss of a wonder of the world, and Didymus Chalcenterus was writing commentaries pretty much the entire time, so he most likely had access to the Library during those years.

What actually killed the Library of Alexandria was centuries of rulers losing interest, cutting funds, not maintaining the building or collections properly, and crackdowns on intellectual freedom of the scholars who worked and studied there. It took until the 260s, but Rome did eventually kill the Library: not with fire, but with institutional decay. By the Palmyrene Invasion in 270-71, the other point at which people like to go "ooohhhh big fire at the Library of Alexandria!," the Library was basically an empty shell of a building.

It's not fires we have to be worried about in Libraryland (although like, do worry about fires, safety first). It's institutional decay. It's budget cuts. It's politicians who think that anyone who disagrees with them ought to be censored. If you love your library, don't worry about fires: worry about politics and whether your library is getting the institutional support it needs to be the best library it can be.

-gets off my soapbox-

All that said, it is a very sexy story and I do like the idea of Aziraphale and Crowley saving books together. So here we go.

Erato is the Muse of erotic poetry. Mr Smoke Inhalation thought Crawly was the sexiest being he'd ever seen and he was absolutely right (and also carbon monoxide poisoned). His lines about Crawly were raunchy as hell and absolutely engraved in Aziraphale's brain permanently the moment Aziraphale heard them.

And apparently fireflies live just about everywhere except 1) Antarctica, 2) England, and 3) the US Southwest/West Coast/Mountain West. I'd been lead to believe they were only in the American Southeast and had originally planned to write one of the Ineffables going down to Georgia (as made famous by the Dave Matthews CHARLIE DANIELS Band, thank you @/killingmenotatallsoftly) and seeing fireflies for the first time but had to scrap it after an extremely cursory Google.

[theresattrpgforthat]

Hi! Looking for a two person game to play with lil bro while I’m at college. Epic fantasy feel preferred, whatever mechanics though. He’s only played dnd, I’ve played dnd and lancer.

THEME: Epic Two-Player Games

Hello there friend, I’ve got quite the broad span of recommendations for you here! Some are epic, some are fantasy, and some are both! 

Godkiller: First Blood, by Connie Chang. 

GODKILLER: First Blood Edition is a holypunk PbtA (Powered by the Apocalypse) game for one player, the Godkiller, and one Game Master, the god of gods. Together, the two of you will weave a mythic, violent, and transformative tale about the only mortal in existence with the power to slay a god, rising against the challenges of the divine. Which gods will you kill to shape the realm — and which gods will you spare?

This game is still in pre-order, but it looks to be about as epic as they come. It’s designed for two players, over an extended number of sessions, as the single player does their best to kill the single GM - God. The art on the storefront page looks gorgeous, and the people behind it are stellar names in the indie games scene. You should absolutely check this out.

Dice Souls, by Chris Bissette. 

Dice Souls is a zero prep Souls-like dungeon exploration game for one or two players. Set out into a procedurally generated world filled with traps, monsters, and unbelievable bosses. Kill them. Take their souls. Die. Get better.

As you play you'll answer questions about the world and your place in it that will build the story of what happened to the world, why you're here, and what your purpose is. No two games will ever be the same.

Dice Souls is designed to emulate popular games like Elden Ring and Dark Souls, with a cycle of character death that fuels a constant cycle of progression. The story is one of pursuing rebirth against all odds, holding on to hope in a dark and stained world. The Quickstart is free, and inside it’s 16 pages it will introduce character creation in the first steps of gameplay, leading you through a pre-built Region up until your first boss fight. By the time you finish playing, you should be comfortable enough with the system to decide if it’s for you - and then pick up the full book, which is currently still in the process of being released. 

Agent of the Throne, by Toastmortem.

Agent of the Throne is an old-school inspired tabletop roleplaying game designed for two people, with one taking the role of the Game Master (GM) and the other as the Player. The player assumes the role of a Throne Agent, a man or woman charged by the emperor himself with the protection of the empire and its people. They travel through distant villages and crowded cities, hunting down alien monstrosities, twisted cults, and treasonous rebels.

This game takes a lot of nods from the OSR scene, which has some similarities to older editions of D&D. If you’re looking for recognizable bits and bobs such as to-hit modifiers, hit points, and character classes, Agent of the Throne has all of that, in a familiar dark fantasy setting. To facilitate the feeling of a party while reducing the amount of bookkeeping required, your single character will have a retinue, a small number of NPCs with their own specialties and fighting capabilities. 

One thing that might set this game apart is the inclusion of an Investigation phase in the three-part story structure of a game session. As an Agent, you’re responsible for finding out what’s causing local disturbances and tragedies, so sometimes you’ll have to examine clues and interrogate witnesses before you can start kicking down any doors. If you want to stick with traditional fantasy with rules that make it easy for a single player to get into some complex adventures, this game is absolutely worth checking out.

Anyone Can Wear the Mask, by Jeff Stormer. 

This is an imaginary story (which may never happen, but which then again may),About someone with great power, who chose to use that power only for the good of all.

Anyone Can Wear The Mask is a tabletop RPG about a superhero, a supervillain, and the city they share. Throughout play, you’ll record the adventures of a great hero as they defend their city, stand up to those in power, and eventually confront a terrible nemesis. You’ll draw maps, roll dice, pull cards from a deck, and make a living record of the city and its people.

This game can be played solo, as a duet, or with three players, depending on whether you want to play with or without a GM. You can choose to use a pre-generated city or create a city of your own, and mark the changes that both the hero and the villain wrought over the course of their struggle. The narrative gives you a chance to look at the cost of super-powered rivalry and responsibility, and how the actions of powerful people can have widespread effects on the city around them. For that reason, I’d consider it sufficiently epic for this recommendation, even if it isn’t fantasy.

Frog Knight, by Daysemay.

You are a Frog, yes a frog. Amphibian with a slimy layer of mucus moving from both in and out of the water with grace. have you always been a frog? or have you been transformed in some manner? You are also a knight, to what you are sworn you can not remember, but you carry a sword and fight with it well.

You are on a quest... to somewhere. You do know you have a rival who is also a frog and a knight on a quest just like you. It seems no matter where you go your paths cross in opposition and you must duel to proceed. This is one such duel.

Free to play, Frog Knight is a simple 3-page game that uses a deck of cards as an oracle to help you narrate a duel. The first player to run out of cards must either fall or flee, thus losing the duel. 

This game is short and has a very light-hearted tone to it. Its ability to be epic in scope depends on the quests your frogs are currently on - are they trying to save rival kingdoms? Find a princess to kiss? It’s up to you! This game is probably the farthest in style from both D&D and Lancer, as the oracles are very broad and require a lot of input from the the players involved. However, if you’re on a low budget and you want a chance to test out something radically different from what you’ve played in the past, it costs you nothing to check out!

The Serpent and the Spider, by Junk Food Games.

The Serpent and The Spider is a tiny ttrpg for 2 players. One player takes the role of The Serpent, a charismatic sword-wielder. The other player takes the role of The Spider, a highly intelligent necromancer. Your souls are bonded together. You will fight against corrupt corporations and explore your relationship.

To play the game, you need something to write with, two 4-sided dice, and two 8-sided dice. This game is inspired by the book series, The Locked Tomb, by Tamsyn Muir. 9 short session prompts, inspired by the 9 houses from the books, are included as well.

I’d describe this game as a space-fantasy, rather than your regular sword-and-sorcery game. It’s designed based on a setting that prized the bond between fighter and necromancer more than anything else, following themes about deadly power and the price of tying yourself to someone whose death could also spell your own. The premise really sets you up for great danger and big, impressive fights - but also can cover some heavy topics that you should talk about before you start play. 

[stories-and-chaos]

Tarnished pt 17

[Helluva Boss AU where Blitzø’s childhood theft from Stolas’ palace is discovered and major consequences ensue for everyone involved.]

[Part 17/?? Word count: 782 Cw: mild language]

—————

Twenty-two years ago, the day Blitzo was hired by the Goetia.

Fizzarolli had performed in a few more acts after Cash took Blitzo off. Something about a royal wanting a playmate. It was harder, performing without his friend. Yeah, Fizz was better at all the techniques, but there was an underlying nervousness to the boy. Having the ever confident Blitzo there helped. The audience didn’t seem as big, it felt more like they were practicing together.

But Cash had basically dragged Blitzo away. And Cash was the boss, the ringleader. While they were away, Cash’s understudy kept the show going. Fizz did his best, pretending Blitzo was just on the other side of the curtain.

After the last act, everyone in the circus was cleaning up, getting food and the acrobat who was their accountant was tallying up the day’s take. Cash stomped back among the tents, telling everyone to pack up. While confused, most of them complied. The acrobat accountant and the horse trainer were among the small group of protesters.

They, along with the juggler/cook, the contortionist in charge of costumes, and Blitzo’s mom, were all following Cash. Even as he was giving out orders, the five were demanding answers. “We’re supposed to be here another two weeks, what’s the big fuss, the hellhorses just ate, we gotta give them a bit before we harness up, where is Blitzo, let people have dinner before we take off boss, where is my son?!”

Cash mostly brushed them off, just saying that shit happened and they needed to leave. At his continued insistence, the four performers gave up and started their own preparations. Cash’s wife wasn’t giving up.

“Where is Blitzo, Cash?” She grabbed the shorter imp’s arm as they entered their family tent. “Fizz said you took him to a royal estate? Without asking me? So where is our son?”

“Tilly,” the older man hissed, “the boy’s staying with the Goetia. He decided he likes being the blueblood’s pet more than being our family.”

Fizzarolli and Barb, Blitzo’s twin sister, looked at Cash in shock. “What?! Papa, are you sure Blitzo doesn’t want to come home?” Barb ran up to her father, not sure if she heard right. Fizz was stuck in place, his tail winding around his legs. It felt like a chunk of ice dropped into his belly.

Did Blitzo like this royal more than Fizz? They were best friends, he did everything with Blitzo. But being with this royal kid for a day was enough to make him leave home behind.

Cash was looking down at his daughter, making his eyes big and sad. “Yeah kiddo, he said it’s much better there, not being at a run down circus. I tried to get him to come back to you and your momma and Fizz. But he wouldn’t come outta that big fancy house, said he doesn’t need us. The prince’s daddy gave us some extra money for us to leave the Ring.” Both children started tearing up as Cash told them about Blitzo’s betrayal. “So pack up your junk so we can get lost.”

Barb rubbed her eyes. “Okay Papa.” She took Fizz’s hand and tugged him over to where their gear was. “I’ll help you pack Fizz.”

Tilly was not having any of the nonsense Cash was spewing. Her face was nearly black with the ichor flushing her cheeks. She rounded on her husband once the kids were out of earshot.

“That is the biggest load of hellhorse crap I’ve ever heard in my life and that’s saying something considering how long I’ve known you.” She jabbed a long finger at his shoulder. “Blitzo is scared of royal demons, there’s no way my baby would stay there. So what’s really going on Cash. How much trouble did you get our boy in?”

He grabbed her wrist, making the bones creak under her skin. “Don’t you dare talk back to me. Don’t even think about questioning me. He’s gone, never coming back. Get used to it, Tilly.” He shoved her backward, knocking her to the ground. “And get our shit packed or you might lose your little girl too.” He grabbed a bread roll and a hunk of cheese before leaving the tent.

The entire troupe was packed up and on the road before midnight. Every member was used to quick tear downs and departures. Midnight moves weren’t uncommon either and darkness wasn’t much of a problem for imps or their animals. Cash had them heading to Greed for now. It had been years since they performed there, but they’d made good money at the time.

The All Imp Circus never went back to the Pride Ring.

—————

<<First <Prev Next>

[thegodthief]

Ever since I put my foot down at work about no longer doing work outside of my spec, there has been one person that I set aside time to do just that for. It's not because they are above me in the food chain, it's not because they are well-regarded, and it's not because I need a mental break from my usual grind.

It's because they are actively trying to learn how to do this for themselves.

There is a particular report that my office often needs, but is not readily available from corporate. Corporate prefers that we make a formal purchase of the report from a separate department, but wow, that eats up our budget like water through a sieve because the report is calendar sensitive, so we're pulling it often. And even then, the purchased report has to be refined further to be useful to our needs. (Not to mention, that department always gives us grief because it's so tedious for them to do it that it takes a week to run it, hence the report charge.)

It was one of these refinement requests that put the report in front of me. I recognized where the data in the report came from. It is a refinement of a raw database dump that we are able to get without a purchase order. I obtained permission from my boss to get into trouble and obtained a raw dump for myself to play with.

Wow. That's a lot of data being collected for no reason other than to collect data.

Well, I don't need these twenty columns, or that duplicate column. How obvious can it be that these hidden cells are merged for no other reason than to frustrate someone trying to sift this data for themselves. So when I move these remaining columns to the order we need then that reveals where a refinement needs to happen. And then, and then, and then...

Done.

Took me two hours to figure out the steps, but then once I had the process complete and verified, it only takes me fifteen minutes to do this by hand.

But that's me.

I didn't realize how complicated the process was until I made a technical manual for it. I took nothing for granted and wrote it with the assumption that the most advanced thing the reader had ever done with the necessary program is to open an already existing file. I would complete a step, write down what I did in that step, look at what I wrote, and realize that what was one step to me would be six to fifteen individual actions to my intended audience.

What was a twelve step process to me became a list of forty-five individual instructions. And some of those steps had an explanation about why it needed to be done that way, and what to do if something looked wrong.

I sent the instructions to my boss and everyone that would need the report. It was not well received. Because that meant that no one now had an excuse to bother me to do the report for them when we often had several days notice that a report would need to be pulled on such-and-such day. The only time bothering me to pull the report would be justified is if it was needed in two hours or less. (But they have to explain to our boss why they waited that long.)

And then the exec who needed the report the most actually looked at the instructions. They printed them out and literally sat down at their desk and read them, line by line.

"Hey, Keri, I just read your report instructions. Forty-five steps? Really?"

"Yea, once I broke each step apart, it really does come to that."

"So, each step is an individual action, nothing is combined?"

"Copy and Paste pairs are combined, but nothing else."

"I notice that you don't require the user to use keyboard or mouse except for... two steps."

"That's because with exception of those two steps, it's really up to the user how to do those commands. I prefer keyboard, but I know most people here prefer clicking on icons."

"... I could do this. Thank you."

Earlier this week, I was asked to come to their office "only if there's free time". Yea, whatever, here I come. Turns out my instructions were introducing them to commands and features they have never used before and they wanted me to walk them through it because they are in Very Unfamiliar Territory.

"Oh. Cool. You're one of today's Ten Thousand! Sure, let's go."

"Ten Thousand?"

"One day, once we get your geek cred advanced, I'll explain it. But take my word that this is a Good Thing, Tee Emm."

As we went, they asked what each new skill could be used for. Suddenly, this wasn't about getting this one specific report put together, but this was now about how these skills could be used to make other tasks easier for the exec to do themselves.

"I can do this!"

Readers, let me tell you, I rediscovered joy at that moment.

They explained that each time they have asked IT for help and instruction, IT just did it and told them not to worry about the how because that's what they are there for. They had taken my instructions home and asked family members to help them understand the individual steps, only for said family to complete the report process (incorrectly) and tell them not to worry about it because the report was done. They have been wanting to learn how to do more than just open files and prettify reports and my instructions were giving them the opportunity to do just that.

"You probably think I'm an old idiot for not knowing these things."

"No, I think other people have been wrong to you and I am grateful that I got to be here right now."

It took the exec two days to complete what I could do in fifteen minutes. They got some steps wrong, but rather than fixing it for them, I coached them through realizing their error, how the error impacted further steps, and how to recover from the error. Their notes were extensive, mostly about alternative ways to enter each command.

And along the way, I was reminded how good it is to learn something new, the joy of the student and the joy of the teacher. How warm it can be for someone who did something for themselves for the first time.

I didn't realize I had forgotten until then.

[linkspooky]

TITANS, ISSUE #2 THOUGHTS.

This is way late but welcome back to my continual coverage of the new Titans series currently being released by DC Comics. Goodbye anime it's time to return to my real passion cheesey super hero comics. This is the first series since the N52 and Rebirth reboots to feature the classic New Teen Titans lineup so as a fan of the old comics I'm interested to see where they're taking these characters. Especially since this is the first time in like three reboots the focus is on letting these characters grow up.

This is also running simultaneously with World's Finest! Teen Titans which is bringing back the silver age lineup + Bumble Bee and making them canon again. As a fan of the silver age comics I'll be covering that series eventually too. Anyway, issue number two under the cut.

MEET THE NEW BOSS

We open with a much younger version of the Teen Titans about to ambush Brother Blood only to find the Justice League has already taken care of them. As far as I know something like this never really happened in the old continuity. Robin always acted separate from Batman that was sort of the point, and the only time they really clashed was the crossover with Batman and the Outsiders. It culminated in a story arc where Dick Grayson realizing he'd been emulating batman a little too much realized he didn't actually want to lead people the same way that Bruce did.

Then much, much later in the JLA and Titans crossover Technis Imperative. So yeah, The Justice League never really sniped one of the Titans targets. It was more of a silver age Teen Titans thing that they were just considered the Jr. Justice League and the Justice League / Their mentors were more active in interfering with them. By the time of New Teen TItans, they were just the Titans their own independent group.

Wally's not dead (obviously), but an alternate timeline version of him does give us the interesting premise that Dick is tasked with solving a murder before it even happens. It gives Dick a chance to show off his detective training here presenting a unique challenge to his skill set.

Cyborg's question of whether or not Dick has contingencies in place is a reference to the Tower of Babel storyline where Batman prepared weapons to use against the Justice League with the knowledge of all their weaknesses, only for those same weapons to get stolen by Ra'as al Ghul who put them into place and crippled the league while at the same time sending Batman on a wild goose chase by robbing his parent's grave an forcing him to track down where Ra's moved the bodies in order to distract them. It was a pretty big deal in the pre-reboot continuity.

Dick having those same contingencies shows his control-freak Bruce foiling, but at least he's open about it I guess. I'd say that Nightwing having all of those weapons and contingency plans though does put a little too much power in his hands over the others. The whole point of Tower of Babel is it's not so much about Batman always needing to carry krytponite around in case Superman goes evil, as it is that Bruce needs to feel in control and in order to achieve that he disrespects all of his comrades agency by devising methods to control them.

THough later on Dick does have a point that it's Wally's tendency to rush off immediately without thinking because he is a speedster and therefore stretch himself too thin. IT's the right call to keep Wally close when Dick knows that he's going to get murdered soon, but it's kind of wrong to hold "I can keep you here if I want because I know your weaknesses" over his head to get him to stay.

Dick makes another controversial decision by putting Donna in charge instead of Starfire. This is probably to give Donna a character conflict.

It's funny that Dick chose Donna over Starfire considering their track record with leadership. One of the biggest fights Donna and Dick ever had is when Dick trusted Donna with leading the team in his absence and Donna let the whole team fall apart. Basically while Dick was gone Cyborg and Beast Boy ran off, Raven was kidnapped by Brother Blood and missing for months and Donna basically sat on her hands and did nothing about it. All because Donna's greatest character flaw is being unable to live up to the perfect image that everyone else has on her.

It sparked one of the biggest fights Dick and Donna ever had in the comics, they literally got into a fist fight over this. Anyway, in summary Donna does not have the best leadership skills. On the other hand Starfire led the Titans pretty succesfully when they were mentoring Young Justice in the 2003 comics and Dick walked away from the team.

Dick probably just made the call because it's his tendency to trust Donna with everything, due to their close friendship.

At least it doesn't get in the way of Donna and Starfire's friendship. There's a funny little nod here to the New Teen Titans which had pretty constant inner-group conflict, to the point Cyborg would make fun of it by calling their lives a soap opera. The Titans are pretty famously a dysfunctional found family. We'll see if they keep that element in or not.

Two more things set up for future issues, number one it's Garth's turn to be brainwashed by Brother Blood this week. Garth seems like the natural choice to get brainwashed, despite being a member of the original four he's kind of been more of an outsider to the group. In the original silver age titans he felt so insecure about his place in the group he literally developed an illness and had to quit.

The second is that it's mentioned that the explosion that started the fire is Tamaranean in origin. Considering Starfire's Tales of the Titan comic deals with her encountering a pair of sisters with a healthy relationship, and featured an off-hand mentioned of Blackfire.

This could be foreshadowing the return of Blackfire, which I'm excited but also nervous for. Blackfire is one of my favorite villains in all of comics, but her relationship with Starfire is often reduced to "Starfire is the good one, and Blackfire is the bad one" when in the New Teen Titans it became much more complicated than that and became a pretty nuanced analysis of the conflict between a golden child and a scapegoat.

However, my hot take about Blackfire and Starfire's relationship is a rat for another post, so I'll just end things here.

[thewanderingmask]

brain dump time

the other morning i accidentally workshopped a cartoon story concept

i already have too many story concepts

i have no plans to do anything with it

i am putting it here now

-

THE PREMISE: Cartoon bad guy squad. Team rocket style Evil organization. we focus on a branch office made of embarrassments who are extra bad at this

They wanna prove themselves to the big boss and the rest of the organization. (Extra big team rocket energy there) They’re in some unimportant outpost in a random city and they get no support. Their base is some crappy hole. They never even meet the heroes.

Team is 2-3 squad members who are fucking goons and a middle manager who actually has some skills and takes things seriously

Goon A "Audrey": feral.

Goon B "Basilisk": fancy.

Goon C "Clint": mad scientist

The manager seems competent because he’s serious but actually isn’t super good at being in charge. gets easily wound up, that kind of thing

They get cartoon tools and ray guns and mostly fuck up with them or use them on each other

Squad starts with 2-3 goons then they gain a new one later

The new one is a nepo baby who really wants to be evil and got shoved out here because like the others they’re a goddamn embarrassment and this is a way to keep them out of trouble

Turns out they’re actually really good at being Evil with a capital E. something no one else on this squad has the stomach for

I think a season arc would be the nepo baby coming in and getting razzed by the og squad who are relishing the power of seniority until they get shown up. then they want the new guy gone. Then nepo baby reveals they’re actually Evil beyond cartoon goon squad boundaries and stage a coup on the manager. The goons follow along because well this new guy IS real competent so they’re finally gonna get recognized and respected and also nepo baby scares them

But it turns out none of the goons have the stomach to do something like murder a kid when ordered to, and they realize oh no with a competent boss they have to do real work, and really maybe they just liked screwing around and posturing the way things were before

So they have to team up with a washed up good guy to save their imprisoned manager and take down their genuinely evil new boss

Washed up good guy is one of those characters who betrayed the good guy team but lived to regret it so now he hides out here in nowhere town and depressions his way through the days

Lives in a run down trailer, avoids human contact, still gets some hate when he’s occasionally recognized

Anyway the baddies go to him because they decide they need a good guy to fight a real villain and he’s all there is within bus fare distance

They get him on board with helping by being idiots who will clearly die without help

Also he wants an act of redemption because he lost everything by betraying his original team and now he just really wants people to stop hating him

So he tells them how villains usually fuck up: by having plans with poor logistics or by getting emotionally involved and not thinking logically. ...These are both things our main character goons do, but the new villain doesn’t. So the only other thing villains do that leads to their downfall is underestimate their opponents. Usually some kind of power of friendship thing because villains don’t have friends. The protagonists try the power of friendship in a test run. It doesn’t work.

Ex hero eventually has an epiphany that yes these people suck at everything they're typically ASKED to do, but they have weird unique strengths in specific areas. So it’s about using those. like the power of hair care and makeup can be used to make disguises, feral brute strength can work if aimed at the right wall to break down.

They make a plan to rescue their old manager using these tactic and despite looking like a disaster it actually goes as planned. They get him out. Originally they are just planning on running away forever now but the manager, who incidentally has real injuries from his imprisonment, says there’s a worse plan happening that’ll kill the whole town for Real

And the team is originally still going to run away actually

But for ENTIRELY SELFISH REASONS they eventually realize how much they don’t want that to happen

Goon A is territorial, goon B’s arbitrary personal code is offended, manager has a bone to pick and a chip on their shoulder, and the ex hero still wants to do something that’ll get him back in with the heroes

So they make their plan and it’s one of those situations where it seems like it’s working right up until they reach the macguffin at which point the bars drop and the lights come on to show the villain, who has correctly estimated all of them. And He let them get this far because he thought it would be funny

you know, to crush them

and i think the third goon, mad scientist goon C, was the most ambitious and seemingly the most reasonable. and when the villain mutiny'd on the manager, C was the one who bowed their head and joined him

so the villain totally monologues about how he correctly summed up everyone and their critical faults, because again, it's fun to crush these people. and how the villain didnt want them to just run away and live, because then he couldnt kill them in front of C. because C still cares about the others. so he fed the manager info on his plan and let them break the guy out. and now hes gonna kill everybody with his macguffin plan and he knows C wont do anything to stop it, because they're too selfish to defy him. and the villain just wanted to hurt them all one more time before killing them (except C, whose reward for betraying his team is to live having watched them die)

anyway so then C shoots the villain with a gun

then theres a showdown and at the climax all the goons unite, and some kinda thing happens where theres a glimmer of power that flows through them and protects them from a fatal blow, and no one except the ex good guy notices the and goes "wait, is that-" and then the manager punches the villain in the face

then the superweapon laser death beam is about to go off and while theyre arguing over where to point it they accidentally set it to blow up the building theyre in

so everybody books it and the last thing the villain does, as he's left to bleed out on the floor of an exploding building, is stare up in disbelief and then just start laughing at the absurdity as the whole place goes up

in the epilogue, the team manage to fucking lie about everything that happened to the main office. this flies at the exact same time as their stuff was happening the heroes attacked and defeated the high council so now the power structure is in shambles

so they basically get told "whatever just stay there and dont cause any trouble"

so as far as theyre concerned its back to business as usual, which is all they wanted in the first place

pushing over old ladies and kidnapping small dogs

stealing candy from a literal baby

getting their asses beat by literally any given random citizen

stealing things

getting wacky machinery and misusing it

everybody just agrees unspokenly to pretend nothing happened with C

the manager is back in charge and wants the ex hero to help them. ex hero says no way i only helped because i wanted the good guys to want me again. but also he keeps getting roped in from then on. the goons just start Showing Up at his place and raiding his fridge

-

so yeah

[cannoli-reader]

Fuck, marry, kill. Categories are: Wondergirls, taverin, Rand's wives, Aiel Wise One trio, Amyrlins. Go.

These are stupid games, and I will only entertain this one, because I think there is something to be gained in understanding the characters, in order to give a proper answer. Or just show everyone what an idiot you are.

So.

Wondergirls. Probably not hard to guess for people who know me.

F - Nynaeve. Yeah, she has a lot of puritan village elder vibes, but all three of them are rather uptight and killjoys. On the other hand, from the mouth of someone who has experience with Nynaeve: "...I'll miss having my back clawed."

Nynaeve is great in the sack. Per a guy who has plenty of experience.

M - Elayne. She's rich, she can cook and despite the entitlement and arrogance, has no problem letting someone else take the lead if it makes them happy, while being ready to step in and take character herself if they screw up. Unlike certain other people in this group, she's not going to be a ball-buster just for the sake of proving to the world she's in charge. Elayne is the one who works at being a partner. She doesn't need a leader, and she doesn't need to be the boss.

K - Egwene. If for no other reason, she's the shortest. She's a killjoy. She has the most attitude and the least justification for it. You'd have to work to find a trio that puts her into any other slot without actively evil or physically repulsive people.

Ta'veren.

F - Mat. Experience, and he's not going to make you work for it. He has an actual philosophy about seeking to make his partners happy. As opposed to "What are you doing, don't you know how hateful I am?"

M - Rand. The right balance between commitment-shy and clingy. Fertility also seems to be a strength. Easily the most responsible of the three as well.

K - Perrin. This is actually not a default, "Kill Perrin" was the first and easiest choice for this trio, before figuring out which to assign Rand and Mat. He's the worst friend and the least considerate of the trio, plus the first one to be an actual murderer. Even his episodes of self-pity are less interesting than Rand's.

Rand's partners.

F - Aviendha. One of the most athletic characters, and frankly, probably not qualified for the marriage one, given her very ta'veren-esque approach to understanding the opposite sex.

M - Elayne again. For the reasons above. Although Min & Aviendha are tighter competition for her than Two Rivers girls, they both seem a lot more high maintenance.

K - Min. I never really warmed to her relationship conduct with Rand or thought it cute or charming, and when you add in the fact that she uses sex to manipulate or extract promises she has no business asking for from her partner, you definitely don't want her for the other two places. And frankly, she's far and away the easiest target.

Wise Ones (I am assuming Bair, Melaine & Amys)

F - Bair. She's been around the block, she knows what she's doing. She seems like the one most prone to dirty jokes, which suggests she's fun.

M - Amys. She's pretty chill about Rhuarc doing whatever he wants, even if she apparently has the unfortunate habit of collecting teenage daughters. You don't see her trying to change him, either.

K - Melaine. She was apparently militantly single, before suddenly flipping and wanting a husband out of the blue, and seems like she's both a micromanager and not very good at it, and clingy to boot. Probably a lot of work in the sack, too. And for Aiel, having twins named Egwene and Min is probably the equivalent of "Sunshine" and "Peace". Or a suburban white lady naming her kids Mei Ling and Shaquana. Plus, she has the worst poker face in talks with Aes Sedai, and frankly, does the least useful stuff of the group in the story.

(For record, Sorilea goes into the Kill slot no matter whom she tags in for)

Amyrlins.

F - Egwene. Youngest, supposedly really good-looking. Probably the least deserving of execution in this trio, but for reasons above, not putting a ring on that.

M - Elaida. She can knit, and is the only one proven capable of maintaining a long-term functional personal relationship, retaining Morgase's trust and friendship as her advisor for a quarter of a century, before circumstances outside her control messed that up. Good with kids, too. The ability to get the kids to play outside in winter time canNOT be overvalued. And she doesn't let them get away with any crap or slacking either. She takes an interest in landscaping, which I absolutely hate. Maybe you don't want her as chairman of the board you're on, but she seems a pretty good partner in the day to day stuff. Also, I like her inclination to troll assholes who are backstabbing her, but she can't quite get rid of them yet, like Meidani.

K - Siuan. She's just about the worst of the significant good guys and people actively fighting for the Light. She's egocentric, and a classic pointy-haired boss. She is the worst combination of locked in to institutional thinking, and at the same time, willing to abandon established practices on (generally ill-advised) whims. You kind of get the sense that the Pattern put her in charge of the White Tower specifically because it couldn't be anything but an obstacle to the Dragon Reborn, and Siuan is the best bet to drive it into a ditch. She also sucks at laundry, and I seem to recall it being implied she's a bad cook, too. And from her interactions with Bryne and behavior in Duranda Tharne's establishment, she's probably a ton of work, highly critical and a dead fish in the sack, all in one horrific package.

That was more interesting and fun than I thought it would be. Thanks, Anon.