#the clients are great but fuck me this is chump work with how they run it and speak to their staff (management of course)

[avvocarlo]

god it honestly pisses me off to no end that my work acts like I'm crazy for speaking out about how stupid it is that we have to check our rosters on a shitty tablet after every single client. they will say that with a straight face as if I'm some kind of idiot. I should blow up our headquarters 🤨

[buriednurbckyrd]

The Breakup Box (3)

Not here, was her first thought.  It was too personal, too intimate to have the conversation when she slept.  But where?  What could be neutral ground but also private enough that no one else could overhear what needed to be said?  

“The water,” she blurted out.  “I mean...”  She paused and swallowed the lump in her throat.  “Yes.  We do need to talk, but can you meet me over by the water in a few minutes?”  Bucky's face remained impassive but Steve nodded.  

“Okay, five minutes.  We'll meet you there.”  He started to turn but Bucky held his arm out to stop him.

“So you can have a chance to bolt?  I don't think so, we'll go together.”

“Come on, Buck.”  Steve sighed.  

“No, that's fair.”  Y/N said quietly.  “I wasn't going to leave,” she shot Bucky a pleading look as if silently begging him to believe her.  “But I haven't exactly given either of you reason to trust me not to.”  She turned and took a zippered hoodie from her closet and slipped it on.  There was a chill around her and she expected it would linger until the air was cleared.  Knowing they would follow behind, she started walking.  

What would she even say?  Before she had seen them she thought she had known.  It was completely foreign experience for her.  There were never awkward silences between the three of them, she could tell them anything and everything.  Hadn't Bucky been willing to share the darkest parts of his past?  And Steve was always telling her stories of their childhood, good and bad.  She hesitated for a moment at the door, overwhelmed by the onslaught of emotions.  Fear licked up her spine and her entire body went numb with it.    

“Y/N?” Steve touched her shoulder gently and it jolted her back to reality. She shoved the door open and forced her legs to continue to move. Her chest tightened and she fought the urge to hyperventilate and kept her breaths deep and even.  She realized the only thing she wanted was one of their hugs which never failed to make her feel safe and secure.  Another icy shard bloomed in her belly at the thought.  She prayed after it was over that could still be an option.  

They followed her to the casual seating area by the large pond on the property.  The late afternoon sun gleamed over the water.  It was tranquil and quiet.  Y/N was too full of anxious energy to sit so she paced.  Steve nudged Bucky with his elbow.

“Be patient, okay?”  He said quietly.  “She's here, that's half the battle.  Let her go at her own pace.”  Bucky replied with an annoyed sound, but he made no move to prod Y/N along.  

“Could you, I don't know…just sit down or something?”  She finally said after a long silence.  “You're making me more nervous standing like that.”  Steve settled down on a bench and gestured at Bucky to join him.  She stopped in front of them and looked up.  “I don't even know where to begin.”  She told them, misery written all over her face.  

“Could start with an apology.”  Bucky muttered under his breath and grunted when Steve kicked his shin.  

“I really do apologize for how I acted,” she wrung her hands together.  “Neither of you did anything wrong and I should have just been honest.”  She pressed her fingers over her eyes, refusing to cry.  “I'm so, so sorry.  I've been dealing with a lot of shit but there's no excuse for treating either of you like I did.”  Steve leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.  

“What happened, Y/N?  I just want to understand.”  He looked over at the other man.  “We want to understand.”  

“Short story?  I got dumped.  And before that, I was totally humiliated.” Bucky crossed his arms.

“Gonna need the long story, sweetheart.”  The pet name, however briskly delivered gave her a small flame of hope.  

“I figured.”  She began to pace again.  “I was a fucking idiot.  I planned this whole getaway because I couldn't see what was right in front of me.  And that's embarrassing enough on its own, but it gets worse.  I told him, hey, you always plan our dates let me do this. Booked a fancy hotel room, probably the nicest place I've ever stayed in my whole life.  Tony helped me get a reservation at this amazing new sushi restaurant, which I thought would be such a great surprise since he had mentioned wanting to try it when it opened.  

And like a chump I didn't notice how antsy he was about it all.  Disappeared when I checked us in.  Practically sprinted to the room.”  She let out a bitter laugh.  “Tried to sweet talk me out of going to dinner.  Which I almost fell for, but I had a brand new dress and I wanted to wear it.  I wanted to go eat world class cuisine with my boyfriend and feel like a princess.”  She chewed on her thumbnail. “Everything went smooth a silk.  I felt pretty, the food was incredible, so far it was a perfect night.  Then on our way out he suddenly turns green.  Not because the food didn't agree with him, but because we run into a group of his friends.  And introduces me as a client.”  

“Excuse me?”  Steve sounds stunned.  

“Yup. Not his girlfriend of nearly ten months.  A client of the company he works for.”  

“Why?” Bucky demands.  

“Oh believe me, as soon as we were alone I asked.  Kind of wish I didn't.”  She gestured at her body.  “Because of this.  Because according to him, I don't look like a believable romantic partner for him.”  

“You're fucking joking.”  

“Hand to god, Buck.  I have more stamina than he could ever hope to achieve, not to mention the fact that I could literally hand him his own ass.  But because I don't look a certain way, don't meet some set of societal standards I wasn't good enough to be seen with him by people he knew.  Then all those nagging little red flags were suddenly clear as day.  He always took me to obscure little places.  Never any place popular or busy if we went out.  Most of the time he invited me to his place for dinner and I thought it was sweet and romantic that he wanted to cook for me. He made me into a fool.”

“Please tell me you don't believe that,”  Steve stood up and grabbed her hands.  “Y/N, you're one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen in my life, inside and out.  That guy is the one that should be ashamed.”  She smiled softly and drew her hands back.  

“Thanks. I know he's the one that's lacking.  He's the one that isn't good enough for me.  But it doesn't mean that it didn't sting.”  She blew out a long breath. “Him coming back to the hotel to drop of that box of my belongings was a pretty big slap in the face too.  Just let all the hotel staff know how stupid I was.”  

“Stop saying that,” Bucky finally spoke up.  “I can't stand it when you put yourself down.”  

“Sorry,” she scrubbed her hands over her face.  “I know it's a bad habit.”

“Y/N, why didn't you end it then and there?  Why did you let him break it off?”  Steve asked.

“Because I was a coward, don't argue with me right now Bucky, I was.  And even though he was wrong about almost everything he wasn't about the biggest issue.”  Her heart started to race, was she actually going to do this?  

“What issue?”  Bucky prompted.  She looked at the both of them, eyes sad.

“I didn't really want to be with him.  If I had, I never would have overlooked all the ways he mistreated me, disrespected me.  Every resentment and accusation just spilled out then, and there was absolutely nothing I could do or say because it was all true.”  She couldn't stop the tears any more, and it felt like weakness.  “Shit, I wasn't going to cry.  I'm not trying to get pity or anything.”

“Didn't think that for a second.”  Bucky said softly, his heart ached for his friend.  

“Everything is my fault,” she said bitterly.  “I did the only thing I promised I would never do, I lied.  To him, to myself.”  She choked on a sob.  “To both of you.”  Steve reached out for her.  “No, don't.”

“What are you talking about?  What did you lie about?”  His blue eyes were so full of concern.  She shook her head violently.  

“I can't tell you!”  She yelled.  “But I can't not tell you either!”

“Y/N, please whatever it is-”  

“I can't be around you anymore and keep it in, that's why I keep running away.  But if I tell you and lost you both I couldn't bear it!” She held her head in her hands and trembled.  Both men tried to get a hold of her but she dodged them.

“There's nothing you could say that would make us walk away from you.” Bucky said in a thick voice.  

“He's right, you're our girl, Y/N.”  Steve meant it to be comforting but it only upset her more.  

“Am I though?”  She wiped her eyes furiously.  “Because I love you.” She looked at them both, and her shoulders slumped.  “I'm in love with you, both of you.”  Steve and Bucky could only stare at her in shock.  “That's why I kept running, I can't keep all this,” she pressed her hands over her heart.  “Locked away anymore.  I was hoping maybe I could get it under control, but I can't.  Being around you both is so overwhelming.  I don't deserve your forgiveness because it was selfish.  It's selfish telling you, and I never wanted to put you in this position.”  

“Y/N...” Steve reached for her again.  

“I don't expect anything.”  Her voice was flat, as if all the wind had gone out of her sails.  “You have each other and all I want is you to be happy together.”  She gasped when Bucky's vibranium hand closed over her wrist, pulling her roughly towards him.  His other hand was warm and gentle when it cupped her cheek, and before she knew what was happening his lips were on hers.  When he pulled away her eyes were as big as saucers. “What?”  Steve swept in before she could finish her thought and kissed her too, holding her against his body.  

“Our girl.”  He murmured into her ear.  She found herself sandwiched between the two of them.  

“You always were.”  Bucky told her and she could the smile in his voice.

next

[overtrolled-liveblog]

[2003]  You were allowed to design this hive when you were young, after you emerged victorious from your trials deep in the brooding caverns... It's almost as if your people have placed great cultural importance on teaching children to become architecturally adept while very young. It has been this way since ancient times. No one seems to know why that is.

This foreshadowing about the role of the game in Alternian society is pretty on the nose, isn’t it? But the thing that catches my eye is the thing about the brooding caverns. If I recall correctly, these caverns, and the trials, are alluded to but not described in any detail. However, fandom had pieced together a few common ideas about how it worked by the time I started reading fanfiction. newly hatched grubs would hatch in these caverns and struggle to survive until pupating into a wiggler.

[2004] The lawnrings are empty. Blood skims the voids in your porous cranial plates, as if grazing the hollow of a threshed stem, or say, an abandoned cocoon. A sour note is produced. It's the one Agitation plays to make its audience squirm. It is your sixth wriggling day, and as with all five preceding it blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah. Look. [2005]  You don't have time for fancy poetry. It's almost as useless as those arm-swing flappy things on mailboxes, assuming you even knew what those were, which you don't. Trolls don't have mail. Mail is almost as useless as poetry to them. Poetry is the swing arm flappy dealy of words, and mail is the red tilty lever doodad of giving people shit. Frankly you don't know about things skimming voids or grazing hollows or whatever. You've got AMBITION. You were meant to be a bigshot. To be in charge of something huge and really important, and to be totally ruthless about it. You just haven't found the dominion in which you're destined for greatness yet. Or even a vague concept of it.

The running narrative impatience continues. The recurring character “theme” or whatever I called them back in Act One is designed to evoke the theme of the beta kids, especially John Egbert, tying the two. Once again, Hussie seems to believe that reaping and threshing are the same thing.

During the dark seasons, it remains dusk for most of the day. It can stay dark for many bilunar perigees at a time. But even if it didn't, you would still have this feeling... You have a feeling it's going to be a long night.

Again I have to wonder how the hell the orbital mechanics of this fucking planet work. It’s driving me a little insane to be honest.

[2008] is one of my favorite pages in this whole comic. Just a great bit of worldbuilding tied with humor. “Their blood is literally blue. Lousy snobs.” I think this is the first reference to troll blood color in the comic. For a thing that becomes so immense a part of homestuck fan consciousness, it has such humble beginnings.

[2009] oh god. It figures that installing this new beta chat client would open the floodgates. All your moron friends are going to be hounding you relentlessly. Not that they needed an excuse before. You wonder what this chump wants.

I have to wonder how sincere this is. Karkat is definitely the kind of character who would say this sort of thing, but I don’t really know whether he really feels that way about his friends. 

[magagerie]

A Con Gone Wrong

“How did you meet him?”

The long black nails stopped their trek through auburn locks. Julian made a small groan at their ceasing and looked up to the small apprentice beneath him. Wally’s talons stilled on his head where it lay against her chest. Her kohl lined eyes lay fixed on the scratchy sheets just besides Julian’s knee where they laid in Mazelinka’s home. She’d slipped out of the palace for the day, the drovel of court hurting her eyes with how much she rolled them at the pompous officials around her.

“Who?” her voice vibrated against Julian’s cheek, the rising and falling of her breath lulling the man into comfort. “Asra?”

“Mhm.” Julian rubbed his face into her satin blouse before flicking his gaze back to her face.

“Oh.” She nodded nonchalantly into the distance, lavender blinking the gangly man into focus with a smile. The gold hoop on the center of her lip caught in the faint candlelight with her grin, the deep blue they were painted today complimenting her brown complexion.

“Well that’s an awfully long story.” Wally teased, her finger going back to smooth through his hair.

“I’m not going anywhere.” A smirked flashed across his face before it fell once more. “Are you?”

She regarded him impassively, a wide smile soon breaking across the magician’s face. “Not unless you’re coming with me.” Her arched brows waggled down at Julian, a strand of hair falling from her powder blue mohawk.

“Then tell me a story, Cadwallader.” Julian encouraged with a proper grin, his neck stretching to look at her.

“Okay, okay.” Wally maneuvered into the pillows further, “Get off me first, my toes are fucking cold.” They wiggled for emphasis.

He huffed a laugh and granted her request. Julian rolled off the small woman with a faint wobble, his long legs nearly falling off the bed with the motion. His large hand trailed down her thigh as he left her long enough for Wally to shove her feet under the cotton blanket covering the bed. He made sure to keep his palm over the light lavender slacks obscuring parts of her leg, Julian too aware of the large expanses of skin still left bare to his wandering eye.

“Alright, come here.” The apprentice waved the fugitive doctor closer once she was properly settled. Wally did nothing to hide the smirk that settled on her face from his staring, seemed to preen under it even.

Julian raised his eyebrows at Wally (definitely without a blush beginning to color his face) and followed suit, laying on his side and placing his head on her bare shoulder, “You wouldn’t be so cold if you wore more clothes.” He poked the wide cutout on her thigh, the tawny skin soft under his touch.

“You wear too many clothes!” Wally countered, sticking her tongue out. The pair piercings at the tip winked as they made their way back into her mouth, after which a wrinkled nose met him instead. “I can’t understand how you’ve lived in Vesuvia for ages and still think that 5 layers of clothes are necessary.”

“I only wear three.”

“Still too many. You look much better in none, dear.” Wally’s long fingernails dug into Julian’s hair once more and tugged at the strands for emphasis. A moan slipped from Julian’s lips before he could stop it.

“You’re-” Julian’s face turned upward with the pulling of Wally’s grip. His tongue flicked out over his dry lips, eyes glazing over momentarily. A flush painted most of his face before he swallowed and tried again, “you’re changing the subject.”

“Nope!” Wally grinned down and dark blue lipstick branded itself on his temple, “I’m just teasing you.” she spoke into his skin.

“Wally,” Julian had to fight the whine bubbling to the surface, “please don’t.”

“Fine,” she leaned away from him, smirk still firmly in place, “You’re no fun.”

A beat of silence.

“So you wanted to know how I met Asra?” she finally began, sounding like she’d forgotten his original question.

Julian nodded.

“Alright, so~” she drew out the ‘o’ for a few seconds, attention grabbed instead by the wax dripping down the candle. She stayed transfixed, the slow bead moving down to the wooden table beneath and stilling as it cooled. With a shake of her head, Wally realized she’d still been holding out the vowel and a blink later, her mouth closed.

“So I met him in the marketplace, or was it by the old plague wards? I don’t know, but either way it was in a back alley! I had my shitty little table set up, a bunch of rings on my hands to cover the green marks they left behind from the day before. Do you know how easy it is the make cheap ass rings look expensive? Even without magic! You just shine them up right and make sure the paint doesn’t flake in noticeable places and you’re good to go! Honestly, if you wanted me to spiff up your-”

“Wally.”

“What?”

“You’re getting off topic.”

“Oh fuck.” A flush crept over Cadwallader’s freckled cheeks, the subtle red dusting over her nose as a pout pursed her lips, “Where was I?”

“Literally at the beginning.”

“Shit.” She took a deep breath. “Okay, time to get serious. Just punch me if I derail again, okay?”

“I-”

“Thanks for agreeing! So, as I was saying, I met him in some random back alley at my divination stand. I had the usual shit up that you see at a fortune teller’s table, right? Like the cards and crystal ball and everything. Well this fucker just walked up and his clothes look travelled. Like exotic silks and embroidered shit and just seemed like he had money to burn, and who was I to deny him the pleasure of giving me money? So I called him over with my best smile and batted my eyes dramatically cause it’d worked on all the other bastards before him, and I was all like ‘for 4 gold pieces I’ll read your palm and tell you your dead girlfriend’s name’ or some shit and guess what? He bought it!”

Wally was using her hands at this point, back bent over Julian’s head where it had slid down to her hip as she gestured into the air, obviously enjoying her story as much as Julian enjoyed hearing it. “This poor sap came up to my booth and gave me his money and bought into my stupid, vague reading. It was all ‘she died tragically before her time’ and ‘you’ve gone to great lengths to preserve her memory, but fret not, she’ll always be close to you. Closer than you may think.’ and all that other mumbo jumbo that crackpots usually give you like shitty fortune cookies. Do you know what those are? My father use to get them all the time from his homeland, just these plain ass cookies that didn’t even have sugar- barely any vanilla!- and the outer edge had runes scrawled into it like a stamp just giving you something stupid like ‘your future is bright but only if you keep your gaze on the sun’. But like, which sun? And why would you do that anyway, you’ll lose your eyes if you look too long, even babies know that! What kind of dumbass-”

“Wally.”

She stopped, blinked, looked down at him.

“I told you to punch me.”

“Maybe next time.” The Doctor smiled at her fondly before waving a hand into the air, “Please, continue.”

Wally blew a raspberry at him. “I gave him his reading, took his money, and watched his smile with a ‘what the fuck’ expression. It was like he knew I was full of shit but humored me anyway. There wasn’t pity in his eyes, but it felt like it so it made me mad. I swindled 15 more coins from him by giving two 3 card spreads and a ball gaze. Hey shut up, don’t laugh, I haven’t actually seen his balls, I’m sure you know more about them than I do, Ilya. What, are you mad now? Don’t poke the bear if you don’t want it to shove your dirty laundry in your face, boy.”

“He eventually left and I did too. There was a few more customers after him, but they were are simpletons. They didn’t weird me out as much as he had. His final remark was ‘I look forward to my next reading, Cadwallader’ and it was bonkers cause that was before I gave my name to clients. Usually I’d just draw them in and then run as soon as I got their money so they couldn’t find me once they realized I was full of shit. But, Asra was different. He didn’t give me his name either, but I knew it. And that was fucking weird. I barely remember my mother’s name… Actually, I don’t remember her name, but I knew his? The fuck is up with that? But that’s how it was. It rattled me, but not enough to stop conning chumps. That was the only way I was living at that point!”

“It was about two weeks after that that I saw him again.” Wally’s voice shifted, more distant in her memories than it had been. Julian looked at her through his eyelashes, good eye finding her face blank, the magician too lost in thought to notice his staring.

“What happened then?” his voice barely broke a whisper.

“Well at first I didn’t think much of it! I’m use to seeing people dicking around in the square, it didn’t feel anything special. Until he made eye contact.” The scam artist shivered at the memory. “It was fuckin’ terrifying, Julian. Like, if I could describe to you just how close I was to shitting my pants in that moment, I would. It was like,” A pause. “if Count Lucio’s goat painting showed up and offered to give me a blowjob at 2:37 in the morning. In front of his wife. It was bananas. Well, not to say I wouldn’t enjoy a blowjob at that time, but what about the repercussions? I don’t wanna get caught fucking a dead noble! Which would I get hung for: being a homewrecker or a necrophiliac? That’s just too close for comfort man, I’d rather keep the freaky shit in the privacy of my own slice of Hell, not in the common for the world to see. Having my bits out in public is something I’m willing to try once but that’s not how, I’d much pre-”

A love tap knocked Wally on the side of her cheek, stopping her in her tracks. Her mouth hung open mid sentence briefly before her tongue flicked out to wet her lips and she closed them.

“Sorry.” she looked sheepishly at the man at her side.

“Why were you scared?”

“I’ve never-” She stopped of her own volition this time, eyebrows knit together as she tried to pick her words, “I’m not- I’m not use to people seeing me like that. Like they know me. People usually just glance over me or stare because of my dashing good looks,” a smug smile crept across Wally’s lips before she could stop it, “but his stare just got me. It knew me. Honestly, the only time I’ve ever seen that look, it was followed by a curse and a fist in my direction so I booked it. I only grabbed my decks and just hauled ass down the alleys until I thought I was a good distance away.”

Laughter cut through beside her and the magician stopped, “What?” she asked.

Julian’s grin softened and he glanced back up at his living cushion, “The image of you running. As you couldn’t have ran off with your whole stand.”

“Hey, it’s a lot bulkier than you are! Do you know how hard it would be run with a table?”

He laughed harder, a tear pricking at his good eye.

Wally’s hands extended as she mimed its size, “It was this big, Julian! I can’t throw it over my shoulder like I can you! It wasn’t as noodly, the shape it was was the shape it was going to be, no bending allowed. Now I could have maybe ran with it over my head and tried to pole vault over a wall with it. Gods, that would have been fucking hilarious. Just running from the law and all of the sudden boing! out of that bitch like those rubber balls kids chuck at walls to see how far it’ll bounce back. But I wouldn’t bounce back, I’d bounce away into the night like a fucking lemur.” A pause. “Fuck, I did it again. You’re no help at all Julian.”

“Hey now-”

“No, this one is entirely your fault and you can’t tell me otherwise. You’re the one who interrupted. And you wanted to hear this story in the first place.”

“I’m sorry.” His tone of voice said this was only half true.

“Shit, where was I? Right!” Wally’s manicured finger went in the air as she remembered. “So I booked it, right? And I finally got far enough where I felt safe and took a breather. I’m use to running through the streets and all. With what I do, especially when people realize that I’m full of shit most of the time, they tend to want their money back. Or to leave me another gift in a black eye. Either way, they keep my calves in great shape, as you can tell-” A toned leg popped out from beneath the blanket.

“I can, they’re very nice.”

“Thank you.” Wally nodded proudly. “So I’d gotten a fair distance away. But like a weed, he just popped up outta nowhere at the end of the alleyway! I didn’t even have enough time to pull out Susan!” Her arm flung out towards the small stack of cards sitting alone on the dresser. It was a deck Julian had never seen before, different than the set Asra had used to read him in their past. There were fewer in this one, only 40 cards, and the images depicted on their faces were unlike any he’d ever encountered.

In their short time together, Julian had only asked once to get a reading from Wally.

Her response?

‘Even you don’t hate yourself enough to want that.’

“He was just on me! And I tried to be like ‘oh hello, stranger, can I help you on this fine day?’ but we both knew that was bullshit. As I sat there, waiting for the retribution that the gods had promised me ever since I used Susan to change that first legal document, I felt no fear. For it was to be, a just ass whooping. And plus, you’ve seen my biceps, I’m good. They were even more impressive 2 years ago. But he didn’t want to strangle me for telling him his dog that died seven years ago was the reason he could never find the socks he was clearly wearing that day. Nah, that was when he offered to teach me proper magic. And it was fucking wild, man!”

She looked back at Julian, eyes wide, “I know I’ve said that a lot during this tale, but that doesn’t make it any less true. I was so confused by it I was tempted to flick him in the forehead to prove he was real, and was really close to doing it too! And then Faust popped out, and she reminded me of a slightly less cool Lysander, and I was gone. My contract was binding, my shit was moved in, and that was all she wrote. My tale of ‘holy shit that story is just wild enough to get me to this wild moment in my life’ is over and now you know more bullshit about me than you probably wanted.”

Julian was quiet. “I can’t believe it.”

“It’s the truth, man.” Wally shrugged, jostling the man resting on her shoulder.

“I can’t believe you almost cursed Asra.” There was a beat and Julian started laughing, the whole bed shaking with him.

“Hey, he woulda deserved it.” The smile that found its way on Wally’s face soon broke into her own giggles. She flung her head back into the pillows and wiggled down into the mattress so she and Julian were eye level.

“You’re not wrong.” The laughter didn’t leave his voice when he replied and regarded her fondly. Julian’s light eye found hers and a sigh left his lungs.

“You’ll find I rarely am.” Wally smiled before quickly stealing a kiss from his still parted lips.

Julian blinked as an impish grin spread across Wally’s face. The slight smudging of her lipstick caught his notice when she pulled back. “What was that for?”

“You’re attractive and I have no impulse control.” She said flatly before stealing another one.

This time, Julian’s arms snaked around the small magician’s back before she could pull away, his larger frame dwarfing hers as he deepened the kiss. A giggle bubbled up Wally’s throat and she reciprocated, eager to feel more of him across her skin. A lavender clad leg lazily slid up Julian’s as she slotted herself into his empty spacing, filling her senses with nothing but his touch and taste as she claimed him with her own. Nails and teeth and soft groans filled the air the further the past got from their minds. It all fell away until the only thing left was Wally’s fingers pressed into Julian’s hips and the touch of his lips against her ribs. But it still wasn’t enough.

She wouldn’t be sated until he was a mess beneath her, drunk off her touch and begging like he did best.

ao3

[mystery-moose]

FIC: Angus McDonald and the Flight of the Flying V (5/?)

[AO3 link]

They’ve come a long way, but even ten years after the world was saved, they’re still not quite where they should be. A whim, a missing painting, and a handful of near-death experiences help a flip wizard and his apprentice bridge the gap.

Taako does his best. Angus takes some risks. Introductions are made, bonds are tested, and lessons are learned — better late than never.

The route Angus chose led them to a big square near the center of Neverwinter, a crossroads of a dozen different streets converging onto a central marketplace packed with people from every corner of Faerun. There was a clock tower here, covered in ornate golden filigree, stretching up into the sky. It was one of the tallest buildings outside the noble quarter, and besides serving as an easily visible landmark, kept excellent time.

It was a little past eleven, now. Angus knew the schedules well enough to figure they'd be able to score tickets easy enough, but he wanted to avoid the afternoon rush.

Taako wasn't exactly cooperating.

"How much?"

The aarakocra merchant pointed to the sign hanging from his cart. "Fifty gold, sixty for the shawl."

Taako blanched, the cloak he'd been admiring draped over his hands. "Sixty?! I wouldn't pay thirty for this thing!"

"Price is the price, wingless," the merchant said firmly. "You wanna haggle, go bother the rakshasa."

"Why would I haggle?" Taako scoffed, rolling up the cloak. "Stuff ain't worth my time, anyway."

Angus stood behind Taako, glancing around. He always kept one eye open and a hand on his coin purse whenever he traveled through the market square; getting his pocket picked one unlucky afternoon had taught him that lesson.

Good thing, too, since he was attentive enough to see Taako slip a scarf from underneath the cloak he was replacing on the cart. He tucked it behind his back with the practiced ease of a petty thief.

"This is all fine-count Calimshan silk, dunce," the merchant shot back, his feathers ruffling. "You won't find better prices north of Memnon!"

"Don't bullshit a bullshitter, thug," Taako drawled with a smug grin. "This is a big-ass brand-name markup for chumps, and we both know it."

"Markup?!"

"This is some cast-off outlet shit you got from a thrift store in Tethyr, my dude! You're tripling your money at thirty gold."

Angus touched Taako's shoulder. "Sir? We should really get moving."

As Taako turned to face Angus, he reached over and discreetly pulled the scarf from Taako's belt. Taako's eyebrow twitched, but he grinned and laughed it off.

"No big shakes, boychik," he said casually. "Nothing here worth these prices, anyway."

The aarakocra grumbled, his wings unfurling slightly. "Forty five!"

"For the shawl?"

"No, the cloak!"

He turned away again, disinterested. The merchant made a disgusted noise.

"Fine! Forty five for the shawl!" He grumbled. "You're scaring off my business."

Taako turned and grinned. "Deal!" he said triumphantly, reaching for his coin purse while Angus tried to stealthily replace the scarf on the cart.

Suddenly, Taako spun and his ears pricked up visibly. Angus was about to ask what was wrong when he heard it himself — a sudden crash, loud and clattering, followed by the sound of screams almost drowned out by the noise of the crowd. He barely had time to react before Taako tackled him to the ground.

A wagon, small and built for city travel, crashed through the market stall behind them. People scattered in every direction as it raced through the square, heedless of pedestrians, bouncing over the cobblestones and coming within two feet of where Taako and Angus lay. They watched as the aarakocra took to the air while the wagon splintered his cart, then, accompanied by the screeching crash of wood and metal, it was suddenly stopped by a spell — Bigby's Hand, glowing a neon red, had appeared in front of the wagon and blocked its path.

Angus pushed himself to his feet. Taako was alongside him, dusting himself off. "The hell did that come from?"

"Alright, everyone, please step back!"

A woman, tall and broad shouldered with a long braid wrapped around her neck and a scar on her forehead, marched out of the crowd. She wore shiny full-plate armor and a tabard bearing the sigil of Neverwinter. Angus recognized her instantly as Dierdre Boudicca, Lord-Commander of the militia.

"This isn't a show!" she shouted, marching forward towards the wreckage. "If you need medical attention, speak up! Healers are on their way!"

"Hey! You still have to pay for that!"

He glanced over his shoulder — Taako was halfway through stuffing a shawl into his purse, smiling innocently while the merchant perched with his arms crossed on the ruins of his cart. Angus gave him a look, and Taako rolled his eyes before pulling out his coin purse.

Angus turned back to the crime scene. Militia men and women swarmed around Boudicca, pushing people away and trying to establish a cordon. The massive spectral hand disappeared as another woman he recognized stepped out of the crowd — shorter, younger, and clad in typical militia leathers and longcoat rather than heavy armor. Angus waved and managed to catch her attention.

He liked Silvia a lot. She was clever, compassionate, and had a strong sense of right and wrong. They'd collaborated on a few cases together, and though he'd been prepared for obstinacy, she'd helped as much as she could. It was more than he'd expected from anyone in the militia; private detectives weren't exactly popular with law enforcement. Angus had come to think of her as a very good friend, and he appreciated her help.

(He also appreciated her hair, thick and curly and tied behind her head. And her eyes, hazel brown set against mahogany skin. And her nose, a bit bigger than his, which scrunched up when she laughed. He didn't make any particular judgments about these things, of course. He just noticed them, that's all.)

"McDonald!" Silvia said with a grin as she approached. "Don't tell me this is one of yours?"

Angus smiled back. "No such luck. Can't expect every crook to just fall into your lap."

"You'd be surprised," she said, glancing back towards the wagon. Boudicca was directing others as they hauled the driver out. "Just sort of stumbled into this one, believe it or not. Wanted thief rounds a corner right into the Lord-Commander doing her weekly inspection. He bolts, hijacks a wagon, and there I am doing my rounds when he peels around a corner into the market."

"Jeez. Talk about bad luck."

"For him, sure." She turned back and smirked. "It's all a matter of perspective, right?"

Angus chuckled. Then his eyebrows rose. "Oh, hey, can I ask you for a favor?"

"Sure. What's up?"

He pulled out his notebook, tore out half a page and handed it to her.

"I'm working a new case," he explained. "Nothing I can talk about, yet, but if you happen to hear anything about a noted thief in town, or run into any seventh-level Evocation, could you let me know?"

"Real hush-hush, huh?" she drawled, taking the scrap of paper from him.

"Sorry," Angus said sincerely. "Client privilege."

"It's cool. I get it." Silvia stuck it in her pocket. "I'll keep an ear to the ground."

"Thanks, lieutenant. Really."

"No problem." Silvia leaned around to look past him. "Who's your friend?"

Uh oh.

Taako shoved Angus to the side as he stepped forward. "Hail and well met and stuff," he said, tipping his hat and grinning his Cheshire cat grin. "Name's Taako. What's your handle, maydl?"

Silvia's eyes widened as she glanced briefly at Angus. "So you're Taako, huh?"

"That's what it says on the merch! Why?" Taako leaned in conspiratorially. "Has Agnes been telling stories? Because I can guarantee at least half of them are true. Which half is up to you!"

She laughed, and extended her hand. "Lieutenant Silvia Hayden, Neverwinter militia. Nice to finally meet you, Taako."

Taako shook her hand firmly. He cocked an eyebrow. "You moisturize?"

"Got to, in this climate."

He nodded approvingly. "Nice."

Angus cleared his throat. "We're, uh, actually in a hurry, so—"

"News to me, my dude!" said Taako. Then he turned back to Silvia. "Why don't we do lunch? Boy's rail thin, needs to put on some ell-bees."

Angus sputtered. Silvia grinned, but shook her head.

"Can't," she said apologetically. "Got some legwork of my own to do. Angus isn't the only one who has to work for a living."

"Yeah, speaking of—"

"How about dinner then? His place." Taako leaned forward. "I make a mean risotto!"

"We should really get going—"

"Sounds great," Silvia said, barely restraining a laugh as she glanced between the two of them. "But I've got a thing. Rain check?"

"Sure, sure! Anytime's cool for us!" Taako said cheerily, elbowing Angus in the ribs. "Ain't that right, Angarang?"

Angus got between them and started to push Taako away. "Sorry, really gotta go! Talk to you later, lieutenant!"

"Give us a buzz!" Taako shouted over Angus' shoulder.

The moment they were through the crowd and out of the market, Taako burst into laughter.

"That wasn't funny!" Angus said, stamping his foot like he was eleven years old again.

"Au contraire, mon frere!" Taako managed to gasp. "That was fantastic!"

Angus moaned and rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses while Taako steadied himself on his shoulder.

"Oh, kiddo," he sighed. "What a gift."

"To whom?"

"Me, mostly," Taako said honestly. "But don't worry, we'll get you that date yet."

Angus took off his cap and hit Taako over the head with it, which only made him laugh harder. "She is a friend and colleague!"

"Oh, don't play dumb!" he retorted, grinning wickedly. "She's your fucking crush, dipshit!"

Angus continued to hit Taako with his cap as the elf cackled maniacally. The final blow knocked his hat off. With a harrumph, Angus slammed his cap back on his head and stomped off down the street. He heard Taako follow close behind, still giggling, and the telltale sound of his umbrella wooshing through the air as he swung it idly.

In all honesty, that had gone about as well as he'd expected it to.