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#also sorry for so many starstruck posts again; i sometimes do these when i have limited time and can bang out a quick answer

thatchubbypillow · 1 year

Text

Reminiscence (that I should've written 2 years ago) about meeting Dan Stevens in person and a heart-warming anecdote :)

OK, I don't know why do I suddenly want to write about this now. Not a special day, not a special occasion, I just remembered that I have never really written a detailed "journal" about this and I don't want this memory to become very blurry over time, so yeah, out of the blue I'm writing this, after more than 2 years. I did post my photo with him on some social medias, but I only wrote like less than 100 words (and 60 of them are about the play not about him lol). And I didn't post anything anywhere about what happened after I met him, so I…I kinda want to share it now. Also, English is not my first language, so forgive me if some words were used incorrectly 😅

Reading the title, I bet you guys already knew that I was talking about Hangmen on broadway. The play closed because of covid, after only two weeks of performance, which was…very unfortunate (the play reopened later but with different actor). But lucky me bought a ticket for a very early date (Mar 02), so I had the opportunity to meet him at the stage door. I did have some experience in meeting actors on broadway (I met Josh Groban for a few times), so I had a rough idea about what's gonna happen…I was less nervous than first-timers, I guess.

Before watching the show, I was a big fan of Legion. His performance really impressed me a lot so I also watched some other works of him, but I liked his appearances/costumes(?)(basically his looks) in Legion and Night at the Museum 3 the most (at that time). Then…I liked drawing sketches of people (though I wasn't very good at it…), so I decided to draw a brief sketch of the still from Legion and another one from NATM3, and planned to give them to him as a gift. And…I don't remember what I was thinking at that time, but I wrote a short letter on a greeting card, about how much I loved his performance in those shows/movies etcetc…then I added my instagram username at the sign-off (this was quite inappropriate…I won't ever do that again but 2 years ago I was just overly excited and immature I guess). So I put them in a gift box and carried it to the show.

During the whole performance all I did was looking at him (I brought a binoculars and my sight just followed him and only him lol), well, I tried to understand the plot but the unusual British accent (it's not the "common" British accent you could see in some tv shows) just drove me insane so I gave up in following the plot halfway (sorry!). When waiting at the stage door I was extremely nervous because there is a high possibility that some actors would choose to leave through another exit and not to do the signing when they had other things to deal with (that happened a few time to me, not only on broadway, but also in Met Opera), and normally the staff would tell the audience whether an actor will appear at the stage door or not, but sometimes they won't. So it largely depends on my luck.

Therefore when I saw him showing up at the door, my first reaction was "thank God…", rather than being starstruck. Then after a few seconds of telling myself "OK, this is happening, this is real, he is actually here" I just started to observe how he's signing other people's playbill and how he talked with people, and of course, how absolutely ANGELIC he looked. What really amazed me was how conflicted I felt: yes, he was breathtakingly GORGEOUS for sure, but on the other hand his "aura" was surprisingly down-to-earth and genial, like he's just an ordinary human being rather than a movie star. And in these brief moments when he's signing and chatting with fans, he always had a very genuine smile on his face. It's not my first time meeting celebrities, I would know it if they're just faking. (Well, it's possible that he's just very very good at it, but I don't care lol).

There weren't that many people at the stage door, I would say maybe 50? 70? I'm bad at estimating those so don't trust me. And the security divided the crowd into two groups, one on the left side of the door and one on the right. He started from the right side, and I thought he's gonna come to the left side later, but he didn't!!! (Maybe he's in a hurry? I had no idea) I saw that he seemed to be leaving and I was like NOOOO I'M NOT GIVING UP ON THIS so I exited the crowd and ran. Fortunately he didn't leave yet, he was talking with another audience (away from the crowd tho). So I waited for a few moments for them to finish the convo, then went in front of him, trying my best not to lose consciousness or my verbal communication ability (I'm not exaggerating!)

I supposed that he might be in a hurry so I spoke in the fastest way I could, about how amazing he was in this play (well, of course I won't tell him I didn't understand the plot at all lmao), and the gift I was giving him, he seemed to be quite surprised about it, I don't remember what exactly he said but I do remember him saying "Oh God" and a lot of "Thank you" (what's funny was that the way he said "Oh God" was quite similar to how he said the same thing in an interview about The Guest, when the host asked him to create an online dating profile for David lol), his soft voice and British accent (the one I was more familiar with, instead of the one in the play) just MELTED MY HEART 😭 good lord…I mean I watched quite a few interviews of him online and listened to some audiobooks too but in real life, from such close distance, it was totally different. Like, I mentioned earlier that I met Josh Groban a few times and I really loved his singing voice, but his speaking voice was rather normal, if compared to Dan's. Dan's voice was simply mesmerizing, like, his audiobooks are already charming enough but every time I recall the moment when he talked to me I just feel my whole being weakened (I'm not exaggerating!) (maybe I'm in too deep 😥)

Then, another thing that I could remember was, he was apparently taller than me. I was around 5'9-5'10, already taller than most of my friends, so it feels good meeting someone whom I had to raise my head a little bit to look at (and who was also unbelievably good-looking). The only thing that still saddens me is that I was too nervous or too afraid to look straightly into his eyes when talking with him. I probably caught a few glimpse at first, but currently I don't have very detailed memory of his facial expressions. Finally I asked him if I could take a photo with him and he gladly agreed. But I was so nervous at that moment that the angle of the lighting was absolutely terrible, I've tried using some editing app to improve it but they didn't really work 😣 Here is the photo…if anyone still wanted to see it lol.

On my way back home I just couldn't stop replaying the conversation in my head over and over again while smiling like an idiot, it was like a dream. I remember in Black Mirror there was an episode where the protagonist could store his memories as videos which he could review, gosh I wish I had something like that. After the show I didn't think too much and just went on living my ordinary life, even though I included that letter/greeting card, I don't remember writing stuff like "looking forward to your reply" or something, and even if I did, he is an international movie star and he has no obligation to respond to some random fans, so I tried to keep myself busy and not taking it too seriously. But after two days…

It happened. It really happened. I had to pinch myself and do the silliest reality check to make sure I wasn't dreaming. The first thing I did was taking a screenshot, so I won't click the wrong button and accidentally delete the message with no way to prove that I actually got his reply. Then I started to rack my brain to decide what should I write back, without sounding like a desperately infatuated fangirl, but I failed and still sounded like a crazy fangirl (so I prefer to hide my reply in this screenshot lol).

To be honest, it crossed my mind that there was a possibility that it might not be himself who sent the message, it could be his assistant or someone else (I heard that many celebs don't run their social medias by themselves, idk if that's the case here), but I'm still extremely happy. The smiling emoji made me feel like it's really him. If it really was him…gosh, how could a man be so perfect??? Possessing such unrivaled beauty while being THIS KINDHEARTED??? Jesus…

Anyways…that's my memory, I'm sorry that I unconsciously wrote sooooo long (1600 words, MS Office said…), but I hope that you enjoyed reading it 😊 Even though I now realized I only love him as an actor and his roles, not exactly himself, if I could get another chance to meet him, I would still do it. Because knowing that such angelic-looking human being really exists, always made me regain some hope for humanity. (Just kidding XD)

#dan stevens #reminiscence #starstruck #celebrity #actor #british #broadway #wholesome moments

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fluffimemes · 3 years

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Okay i sended my request before i finished it basicly MC died became a angel and is dating 1 of the most powerfull demon that their is then threw whine at God to become a demon (luke and simeon saw it all happen) cause they want to be with the brothers and their reasons?

They wanted to be a demon, they are gonna live their life however they want and nobody is stop them not even fucking God himself and how many people get to say they threw whine at God only 1 and thats MC *proud MC noises*🥴😁🤪

Just how would everyone react? or if you don't want to do everyone just the brothers

HELLO, I JUST WANTED TO SAY I LOVE YOU /p

It's not everyday that you get to write about someone throwing wine at God.

Also, I decided to do the brothers with Simeon and Luke!

I'M SO SORRY THIS IS LATE, MY BRAIN HASN'T BEEN WORKING SO IT'S HARD TO THINK

I also went off track, if you want me to rewrite it, please tell me </3

Requests open! Please request at @local-pansexual-writer !

The brothers, Simeon, and Luke reacting to Angel MC throwing wine at God to become a demon

Warning: A little angst (MC's death) and a little vulgar language

I hope I got that right-

I also did not proof read this

Lucifer

When MC died, Lucifer already knew that they were becoming an angel.

He didn't like that but he didn't want to be selfish, so he overworked himself to not think about it.

That is until MC comes to his office, in a demon form with a proud look on their face.

Lucifer first thought he was imagining things until MC ran to him and gave him a hug while he was sitting down.

He was in shock for almost a minute but he quickly gave MC a hug, got them on his lap, and pulled them in for a kiss, not caring that he broke his composure.

But then Lucifer realized that they were a demon, what happened?

MC quickly told him the story.

"Well, being an angel wasn't so fun, I just missed you guys. So I decided to throw wine at God because he has the audacity to boss me around!"

Lucifer was very starstruck, MC threw wine... at God?

Fucking loves MC so much.

It's hard to see someone else living your dream. Marry him now.

Of course he's still concerned for MC because they did just become a demon.

Lucifer will take in the pride of having a partner who threw wine at fucking God.

He may or may not tease MC sometimes.

"You never learn do you?"

Mammon

Mammon became depressed after MC's death, they were like his other half.

Now they're probably with the angels so he'll never see them again.

He just gambled away all his money and got into more debt.

That was until Mammon came back to his room and seeing MC sitting on his bed, waving at him.

Didn't even think for a minute and ran to them, hugging and kissing them while they both sunk on the bed.

But after they stand up from the bed, he finally starts thinking and is confused on how they're in the Devildom.

MC tells him the story while having a proud face.

"I threw wine at God! I just want to be free and not follow so many rules."

Starts laughing nonstop, imagining his Father's face.

Ruffles MC's hair.

"I'm proud of ya!"

Leviathan

When MC died, he would not get out of his room.

Games and anime abandoned because they somehow remind him of MC.

His brothers needed to force him to eat and get some fresh air.

While he was ranting to Henry, MC bursts into his room.

Levi was SHOOK and was a little frightened thinking that it was one of his brothers to force him out until he heard their voice.

"I'm back!~"

Levi never got up so fast and ran to MC, hugging them hard.

His awkward attitude got thrown out the window, he was just relieved to see MC again.

That was until he remembered they were in the Devildom, he has lots of questions.

MC excitedly told him what happened.

"Well, I was starting to get bored and tired as an angel so I decided to throw wine at God!"

Needed a minute to comprehend it but when he did, he started laughing.

Wishes MC got a picture of it.

"I wish I had your confidence!"

Satan

When MC died, he really didn't know what to do.

Satan tried reading books but it was hard when there's a slight comparison to MC.

He tried going to cat cafes but it just reminded him of MC.

Satan was cleaning a classroom when someone hugged him from behind.

He quickly turned around, ready to push them away until he saw it was MC.

Quickly hugs and kisses MC, he's really excited to see them back and already starts thinking of date plans.

Until he realizes that MC was in their demon form, weren't they suppose to be an angel?

MC's face lights up and quickly tells him.

"God was giving me a lot of orders to do so I decided to throw wine at him!"

Takes a minute to process.

But then Satan starts laughing and pats their head.

Secretly, he was REAL proud of them. I mean, God did kill his sister right?

New date idea: Drinking wine.

"You will always be a troublemaker, won't you?"

Asmodeus

Starts going out to parties less and less after MC's death.

Asmo tries to keep up with appearance but it feels like a chore.

He'll sulk around his room, trying to think that MC is happy in the Celestial Realm.

Until someone kicks open his door. Asmo is ready to scold one of his brothers (Mammon) but his words get stuck in his throat when he sees MC.

They both run to each other and Asmo will hug h a r d that MC needs to ask to breathe.

MC only gets 1 second to breathe until they get attacked with kisses all around their face.

Asmo only realizes that MC is a demon when he remembers why he was sulking around.

MC excitedly tells him the story.

"I threw wine at God! You should've seen his face!"

H u h . . H U H

Kind of worried? I mean, MC did throw wine at GOD.

But that was kind of hot of MC?

That's one of his reasons on why he loves MC, they're fearless! It's kind of a problem sometimes

Though, Asmo is disappointed you didn't take any pictures. He could've posted it on Devilgram!

"You're so fearless!~ But I think we should set up on some boundaries..."

Beelzebub

Didn't eat a lot after MC died, even if his stomach growled REALLY loud.

His brothers forced him to eat because it was too loud.

Everyone was concerned for him.

While he was sitting at the dining table, looking at his plate of food, until he heard MC's voice.

"You're not gonna eat that?"

Never hugged someone so fast.

Even if he hugged MC fast, he was still surprised to see them.

Weren't they suppose to be in the Celestial Realm?

"Oh yeah... The Celestial Realm... Well I threw wine at God so I could come back here! He was kind of a bitch too..."

W-What

Yeah he was happy that MC was back with him but throwing WINE at GOD?

Worry chuckle.

He's also kind of proud though?

God deserved that honestly.

"You should be more careful MC... But since you're back, how about we eat? I'm hungry..."

Belphegor

Would not stop sleeping.

But even in his sleep, he felt cold, no matter how many blankets.

Belphie was used to MC's warmth.

On some nights he can't sleep, he tries to hold one of MC's favorite plushies.

While sleeping, he suddenly woke up because he felt a familiar warmth.

Quickly opened his eyes to see MC grinning at him.

Belphie became WOKE and hugged them tightly.

But then he realized, slowly but surely, that they aren't an angel.

MC told him the story.

"Well... I threw wine at God because he's so bossy. I just wanted freedom, y'know? You should've seen his face!

Belphie being Belphie, broke out laughing.

Is PROUD of MC.

Belphie kept imagining God's face, he wishes MC took a picture, he would've made it his lockscreen and laugh at it.

"Good job MC! I wish I could do that too!"

Simeon and Luke

(Writing them together)

What did they just watch?

Simeon and Luke saw how angry MC was to be in the Celestial Realm but didn't think they would throw WINE AT GOD.

Luke quickly brings napkins to God while Simeon calms MC down.

They are both thinking "Is this a dream??"

Didn't think MC would have that AUDACITY.

Simeon and Luke visit MC in the Devildom.

"Why would you do that! That was really unreasonable of you MC! Good thing we were there to calm God down!" Luke yelled out of concern.

"MC, you shouldn't pull stunts like that." said Simeon, also concerned.

"Serves him right! Shouldn't have been so bossy with me." Huffs MC.

In the end, Simeon and Luke are happy that MC is okay.

***

SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONGGGG

AND SORRY IF IT WASN'T WHAT YOU WANTED </3

BUT THANKS FOR REQUESTING!! :D

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221bshrlocked · 3 years

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Show Me Your True Colors

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Fem!Reader

Words: 14092 (I swear this was supposed to be a short oneshot but it got out of hand. I'm so so sorry.)

Warnings: 28% smut, 72% plot. Penetrative, unprotected sex (wrap the shlong before you king kong my dudes). Oral (male and female receiving). Fingering and Squirting due to overstimulation. Some dom/sub elements but not full-on. Creampie. Rough handling (e.g. hair-pulling, spanking, hand-binding, some more hair-pulling). I think that's all?!

Inspired by these posts [x] [x] and by this lovely artist. Thanks @danniburgh for humoring me with my thots.

A/N: I came back from my temporary hiatus to post this because I couldn't wait. And now I shall return to my little corner again. Sorry guys these school/administrative issues are taking longer to deal with so I'm for the most part still away. This is not beta'd. Let me know how I'm doing in the comments please and reblogs are always appreciated. Enjoy. And you can add yourself to the taglist here.

It’s such a different atmosphere, from what he remembers at least. It’s been so long since he stepped foot on a university campus, and he can’t help but smile at the spectrum of personalities all around him. While some students lounge underneath the trees and on the grass, others ran hastily to their courses. Those were probably freshmen.

As he makes his way through the campus, he has to look at his phone numerous times to figure out where exactly he was going. That’s definitely one thing he didn’t miss about being in school, the fact that he was shit in directions and how he almost always got lost during the beginning of each semester.

When he does finally find the art history department, he silences his phone and heads to the first office he can find.

“Good afternoon, my name is Nicola. How can I help you?”

“Hi Nicola, I’m here to see Dr. Y/N Y/L/N. I was wondering if you could direct me to her office please?” Marcus smiles as he unbuttons his suit jacket, not realizing that his FBI tag was now visible to the world.

“She’s currently in one of her lectures, you could-” Marcus follows Nicola’s line of sight when she grows quiet and groans when he sees that she noticed his FBI tag.

“Please, she’s not in trouble. I am part of the FBI Art Crime Team, and I’m actually coming to ask if we could get her professional opinion on an artifact. Just need her to consult on something.” He smiles at Nicola and waits for her expression to relax before he continues.

“Do you mind telling me which lecture hall she’s in?”

“Y-yes, she’s in H140. Make a right at the door and it’s the hall all the way at the end.”

“Thank you Nicola, have a good day.” Marcus nods at her before he buttons his jacket again to avoid any suspicious, terrified looks as he makes his way to the lecture hall. He walks quietly, avoiding the students walking past him as they exit the rooms. When he reaches the door, he turns the knob slowly to not make any noise, hoping that he wasn’t being too disruptive once he walks in. As he shuts it behind him and looks around, his eyes almost fall out of their sockets.

There are at least 250, maybe 300 students filling the seats of the room. He awkwardly smiles when some students look to the side and see him standing at the foot of the door. He quickly takes a seat and says nothing as the students return their attention to the large projected screen. Marcus hears what he assumes is your voice through the large speakers but he can’t place your position. As he looks at the projected images, he finally catches you through his peripheral vision as you step off the railing near the exit doors at the front of the room.

“Because of this association with the gods, many amulets used to ward off the evil eye include depictions of mythological figures and deities who are almost, if not always, female. To the Greeks and Romans, the most common fascinations with an evil eye were women in any shape or form. They were thought to have the most powerful and harmful gaze that might kill if eye contact was established. That’s basically me telling you to never look me in the eye or else I will curse the cow of your second cousin twice removed.” Laughter reverberates off the walls at your joke and only grows louder when you whisper, “just kidding...or am I?” Marcus can’t help but smile at your jokes, watching with fascination as you move up and down the stairs of one side of the lecture hall once you continue to speak.

“Now, I know what some of you are thinking...isn’t that a bit sexist? Well, to the ancients, no. And to us, it’s kind of a meh thing. I know that doesn’t sound very feminist of me but it all comes down to the culture and the ancient practices that carried over. Just remember that it wasn’t because they were women, it was because they were thought to be powerful...a glass half-full kinda thing.” Marcus watches you closely as you maintain your focus on the students before you switch the slide and stand in the middle of the stairway with your back towards the projector.

“So, we find goddesses such as Erinnyes or the Furies associated with the evil eye because of their avenging nature. Their heads were covered in serpents and their eyes were always bloodshot and one of the Furies by the name of Megaera was considered in late antiquity as the personification of envy and whose eyes were the most envious and deadly of all the Furies. She was described by poets as baskanon omma pherousa...bearing the evil eye. Naturally, many children in late antiquity constantly wore amulets of stone galactite to protect them from the eyes of Megaera, and sometimes even wore necklaces with her face on it to counteract the evil eye of someone else and have her curse the ones who tried to harm them. Basically, the ancients were playing a game of tag with the evil eye.” You descend the stairs and walk to the other side of the hall, and Marcus feels his chest tighten with how much confidence you exude, not just through your words but with how you carry yourself as well.

“Perhaps the most famous of these dangerous women is Medusa who was one of the Gorgones in Greek mythology. The Gorgones were one of many female beings such as the Harpies, the Erinnyes, the Graiae, and the Keres, who were said to be grim-faced, and who held horrible looks. Briefly, the story tells of how she was one of the most beautiful women to ever walk the earth and later became hateful-looking by Athena as punishment for being raped by Poseidon in the middle of the huntress’ temple. Her hair became serpents and she was so furious that anyone who would look at her would turn into stone...at least that is the version you will hear from the “all-knowing” male scholars within this field. But, and I know I’m going on a rant here, if you’re like me, you’re more likely to argue that Athena pretended to hate Medusa. The serpents were no punishment! The goddess looked at the poor woman and gave her a weapon to use against men because unfortunately, she couldn’t do anything to avenge her...not only because she didn’t get along with Poseidon but also because he was a god as well. Anyway, back to Medusa’s amazing power which I would love to have so I could use it whenever I’m talking to some professors in this department...don’t quote me on that.” Again, Marcus chuckles at your side commentary and notices how calm and enjoyable the atmosphere of the lecture is. If only he had professors like you when he was in university.

“Even after she was decapitated by Perseus, her powers were very much alive and it is said that Athena placed Medusa’s image on her shield, once Perseus returned it, in order to use it when she hunted. This suggests that depictions of her severed head held apotropaic power and like earlier, one could use a creature who held the power of the evil eye against another being who is said to use the evil eye. Following this principle of similia similibus, it is not surprising that most of the amulets found in Greece and Rome contained illustrations of Medusa’s decapitated head on them. What was once the possessor of the evil eye became a protective symbol against the very same thing.” Just as you are about to continue with the next image, an alarm goes off and Marcus frowns in shock at how inconsiderate it was that phones weren’t silenced. But his surprise only heightens when he sees you running down the steps to your desk and picking up the phone sitting in the middle of the table.

“Ahhhh man, we were just about to get to the cavalier. That’s okay. Remember, the second response is due first thing on Friday. If you can’t turn it in during class, shoot me an email and we can work something out with my TAs. Go forth my clever spawns!” Marcus stands up and glues himself to the wall when he sees students emptying the lecture hall, his eyes on your form at the front of the class. He hopes you don’t leave out of the front exit and begins to make his way to you through the multitude of undergrads leaving. When he reaches your desk, he stands to the side until you finish chatting with one of the students and begins to collect your work.

“Dr. Y/L/N?”

“Please, it’s just Y/N. Who are you and how can I help you today?” You almost do a double take when you look up from your bag and see the man standing in front of you. To say that you were starstruck by the man in front of you would have been the understatement of the century.

“I’m Special Agent Marcus Pike,” he holds out his FBI tag for you and watches as you raise an eyebrow at him before you swing your bag across your shoulders and motion for him to follow you out of the hall.

“I would like to put it on record that I do not, in fact, wish to turn any of my colleagues to stone.” You joke, and Marcus senses that you are perhaps nervous at seeing his tag.

“Believe me, I would like to do that to some of mine as well...but no, not why I’m here.” Marcus clips the tag below his jacket as he walks with you.

“May I ask what I have done that caught the FBI’s attention?” You walk ahead of him, and ask him if it was okay for him to head over to your office with you.

“I’m with the FBI Art Crime Team and I’m here on a request. We would like to consult you on an open investigation and I came here to ask what your availability is.” Marcus follows you up the stairs, barely forcing his eyes to remain on your feet instead of elsewhere.

“Oh, me? That’s...wow. Of all the things I thought I would accomplish in my life, that’s definitely not one of them. May I ask what it is you need my opinion on?” You push open the doorway of the staircase and point at your office across the quiet hall.

“Unfortunately, there is a lot of paperwork you need to fill out before we get to work so I can’t disclose anything about the case until you sign in.” Marcus steps into the office behind you and watches as you set your things down before you move to your desk. He can’t help but feel his muscles loosen at the sight of the bookshelves across your room.

“This is probably the most exciting thing to happen to me all year long so yes, hundred percent. I’m available for the rest of the day today as well as tomorrow and Friday after lecture which ends at the same time as today’s.” You beam up at him as you take two books out of your bag and replace them with a folder that was sitting in the middle of your desk. Marcus looks at you quizzically, marveling at how much easier this was going. He genuinely thought he was going to meet with someone who was probably a bit proud and perhaps as much of an asshole as his previous professors but you were so much different than anyone he’s ever met within this field.

“Are you sure? I understand if you need to take a week or two-”

“No please, you’ll be saving me from faculty lunches and two seminars by colleagues that I genuinely cannot fucking stand- oh, sorry. Sorry, didn’t mean to-” You swing your leather bag around your shoulder again and shut the blinds of the windows before you walk to the door.

“Please, you don’t have to worry about that with me.” Marcus chuckles at the excitement rolling off of you and bites his lower lip when he watches you quickly fix your hair.

“I might need to have lunch on the way to your office though if that’s okay?” You take a plastic container out of your bag and smile sheepishly at him as you lock your door.

“Wow...is your bag bigger on the inside or something? And, yeah fine by me.” He pushes his hands into his pockets again and walks next to you, a little corner in his heart gradually filling with hope letting him know that he should be cautious. He didn’t want a repeat of last time.

You both chat briefly on your way to headquarters and Marcus apologizes every time he looks over and sees you struggling with your food. By the time you make it to the building, Marcus can tell you are a bit nervous and he assures you once more that this was merely a consultation.

“Wait how did you even find me?” You take your jacket off along with everything in your pockets, laying them down near your bag as they go through the scanner. Marcus passes through with his badge and waits for you on the other side, picking up your things as you put your jacket back on.

“I made some calls and a friend suggested to get in touch with you because of your expertise.”

“Oh now we’re getting somewhere. You have a Greek artifact don’t you?” Marcus halts in his steps and looks over to you as he shuts his eyes in irritation. He should have watched what he said.

“S-sorry I couldn’t help it. I’ll stop until I fill out whatever paperwork you have for me.” You take your things from him and walk quietly as he leads you to the elevators.

“I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s not personal, it’s just-”

“Business I know. I know. I’m so used to watching this kind of stuff in movies that I tend to forget it’s all fake and you’re...the real deal.” You hope he doesn’t see the way your eyes trail over his taller form, silently cursing yourself when you meet his eyes and notice how he’s already staring at you with a smile.

“Sorry.” You apologize again and look straight ahead, hands tightening around the leather strap when you realize that he’s still looking at you.

Marcus fists the hands in his pockets to prevent himself from saying anything else that might make you uncomfortable, and he looks at the increasing numbers as they reach his floor. A loud ring signals your arrival and Marcus stretches out his hand so you could walk ahead of him. You wait until he tells you where to go and say nothing when he stops for a second and whispers something to another agent.

When you arrive at his office, you stand to the side and wait for him to tell you what to do.

“What’re you doing all the way over there? Come here.” Marcus calls you over to his desk and smiles, hoping to put you a little at ease. You step towards him and set your stuff on the floor as you sit opposite him on one of the two chairs. He pulls out a couple of files and sets them in front of you in four different piles.

“That’s a lot of paperwork.” You chuckle nervously as you take out a pen from your bag.

“I know, I’m sorry. But that’s why I’m here. These are the building rules and your signature is basically you telling us you’ll abide by all of them.”

“I don’t know any of them.” You respond immediately, and rub harshly at the pen between your fingers.

“I’ll be with you at all times so you don’t have to worry about that.” His smile throws you off guard and you nod before you sign the highlighted areas.

“And these are you swearing that you will tell no one of whatever you see, hear, do, etc. within the building.” You nod and sign through the stapled paperwork before sliding them his way.

“We’re almost done. These two are like the second pile but they have to do with this case specifically. And they extend to outside the premises, meaning that if I or another agent on the case tells you anything that has to do with your work here today while we’re grabbing coffee from across the street, you can’t say it to a living soul.” Marcus points at the four highlighted boxes and tells you to sign the date next to them as well.

“So I can say it to my dead cousin?” You ask as you sign the two papers and hand them to him, unable to hold your laughter when he shakes his head as he pushes the last pile towards you.

“I had a feeling you were going to say that.”

“Can’t help it.”

“And finally, these are you swearing that whatever you tell us today, be it an opinion, a fact, or anything else, is the absolute truth. Basically, you’re not fucking with us.” You raise an eyebrow at his choice in words and he shrugs his shoulders as he motions for the empty spaces again. When you’re done, Marcus collects all the files and places them in a folder before he unlocks his desk and pushes them inside.

“I don’t ever want to see my signature again.” You whisper as he leads you out of the office towards a conference room. He holds the door for you and nods ahead, waiting for you to step in before he shuts the door behind him and turns around. You try to ignore the hand pushing on your lower back as you walk in and spot three gentlemen and one woman standing towards the end of the long table.

“Wow, that was quick.” The female agent is first to speak and you say nothing as Marcus introduces you to them.

“Thank you for coming on such a short notice.”

“Of course. This is very exciting for me so I’m happy to help in any way.” You shake her hand and stand to the side as Marcus motions for you to sit down.

“This is Lydia, Ethan, Henry, and Noah.” Marcus points to each member of his team as he pulls out a chair next to you and sits down.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You nod towards them and look at the folder that Lydia hands to you. Marcus says something as you flip open the folder but you can’t respond, eyes almost falling out of their sockets as you take in the large image on the page. You look up at Marcus and everyone else before you return your attention to the picture.

“You recognize what this is then?” Ethan breaks the silence and watches as you move through the pages quickly.

“Umm, that seems like an oversimplification but yes.” You continue to study the images in front of you for another few minutes before you set them down and look up at Marcus.

“Some explanation would really help me out right now.” You tap softly on the papers, and your mind conjures up the wildest possible stories behind the images currently displayed in front of you.

“Oh right yes. We received a tip from the Smithsonian’s acquisitions department about a man trying to sell them this artifact for three million dollars,” Marcus notices your eyes widen but he continues, “but they’re not sure if it’s stolen or not. And he refuses to cooperate.”

“Which is where you come in. Have you seen anything like this before and if so, where?” Lydia stares at you as you return your attention to the pictures again.

“And the Smithsonian can’t confirm this?”

“Far from it. Marcus here is just afraid they’ll eventually get greedy and do anything to get their hands on it.” You look next to you and watch a faint blush take over the agent’s handsome features.

“I mean I don’t blame you. There are a bunch of real assholes in this field.” You laugh when he gives Lydia a ‘told you’ look.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’ll be able to help you if I don’t see the actual pendant.” You shut the folder and push it away from you.

“That might be a problem.” Henry takes his glasses off and proceeds to clean them as he looks at his co-workers.

“Why? Do you not have it anymore?” Your heart skips a beat at the prospect of the FBI losing such an object.

“Oh no we have it. Our guy is afraid we’ll switch it out with a fake so he refuses to hand it to us unless he’s in the same room.”

“That’s funny. Is there a rule that says I can’t look at it while this man is in the room?” You ask Marcus and he can’t help but notice how giddy you’re being all of a sudden. Your excitement is almost palpable and he wills himself to focus on the question and not how you bite your lower lip as you wait for him.

“I mean…”

“You’re all going to be in the room aren’t you?” You cut him off before he says anything and when they all nod, you turn to Marcus once more and wait for his response.

“I guess it’s fine.” Marcus reluctantly answers before he asks Ethan and Noah to bring the man from the interrogation room he’s been in for the past couple of hours. Lydia and Henry let you in on more details and Marcus watches as you furrow your eyebrows in focus, occasionally cutting them off to ask them a question.

Fifteen minutes later and a knock on the door breaks you out of your haze. You look up just as Ethan and Noah walk in with a man in front of them. You say nothing as they bring him to your side of the room and set him down across from you.

“How many times do I have to tell you, I didn’t steal it. I found it!” Your ears perk at his comment but you say nothing as he crosses his arms and narrows his eyes at you.

“May I see it?” You ask before anyone else says anything and the man continues to stare at you before he ignores your question.

“Please, I’m just here to confirm your story. I know for a fact there isn’t a museum out there that has this.” You notice the hardened expression on Henry’s face but he says nothing. A few long moments pass by and the man shifts to take something out of the inside his jacket. You inhale deeply and watch as he unwraps the cloth before he places the small pendant on the table in front of you.

“May I?” You ask again and if Marcus didn’t know any better, he’d think that you’re just trying to put the man at ease. If you were nervous around five FBI agents and you did nothing wrong, then his little thief must have been scared shitless.

When the man nods, you bring out a pair of gloves from your handbag and put them on, forcing yourself to remain calm as you pick up the pendant.

“What a beautiful work of art you are baby. Red jasper, my favorite!” Your excited words break the silence and you look up at the man in front of you with a smile, feeling your hands sweat when he slowly returns the expression.

Got you.

“Greek is marvelous...crystal clear, grammatically correct, unique placement.” It’s as silent as a cemetery and Marcus watches you closely as you narrow your eyes and adjust the stone under the light. If he wasn’t dealing with a criminal and a potentially stolen artifact, he would have told you how beautiful you looked when you were deep in the middle of a task.

“Hmm, what is this 6th century-ish spell? Oh my bad, no no no, I tend to mix them up sometimes. It’s definitely a 7th century formula.” You make an awkward face and watch as Lydia shakes her head at your little mix up.

“Now, let’s see what you got on the other side sweetheart.” You carefully turn the amulet around in the palm of your hand and barely hold back from gasping dramatically.

“My god...what a goddamn sight...oh oops sorry, that was probably blasphemous. A perfectly etched crucifixion...cross with 4 sides, with a plaque at the top...and of course, can’t forget the clothed Christ. The detail on this is truly unlike anything I’ve ever seen, down to the ‘Iesous Xristos Theou Yios Sotare’ around the figure. Where did you say you found it again?” You casually ask as you continue to inspect the stone, almost laughing when the man responds immediately to your question.

“Mount Athos.” Marcus turns to his team in shock. You’d managed to get the information out of him so easily while they spent an entire day trying to get him to say anything. It was a little funny how at ease the man seemed now, leaning forward towards you as you flipped the stone around.

“Ohh the hub of Eastern monasteries. Boy is this the most valuable artifact I’ve ever had the pleasure of looking at then.” You set it down on the cloth and wrap it up before taking your gloves off and leaning back on the chair.

“See, told you its one of a kind. No one’s ever found anything like it before.” The man beams at you before he takes the object and puts it back in his jacket.

“Oh yeah it’s one of a kind alright...because it’s the most fake amulet I’ve ever had the misfortune of examining. I honestly don’t think I’ve ever been this disappointed in my life. And here I thought another one of these was out there. Did you even bother to do any research on this?” You frown at him and cross your arms in irritation, completely missing Marcus’ reaction and how he turns to Lydia to confirm that yes, you just said that it was a fake artifact.

“W-what?”

“I’d love to know where you got the red jasper because you could have fooled me with that. Let’s break this down shall we? The Greek is perfect, too perfect if I’m being honest. You never have grammatically correct syntax etched on a magical amulet, let alone proper diction. Oh and you should have probably used Classical Greek instead of modern Greek, like were you even trying? Really bad move to use a 7th century formula with a non-altered 6th century spell. The formula didn’t even exist yet!” You tilt your head to the side and watch as the man in front of you begins to fidget. His smile is replaced with a shocked expression and you watch as it slowly becomes angry.

Marcus was speechless. He never saw this coming and was looking at you with a mixture of awe and surprise at the turn of events. He could only stare at you as he took in your energy, the same confidence and intelligence he saw earlier in the day when he walked into your lecture.

“As for the back, you never get 4-sided crosses with these, only three, and the head of Christ makes up the fourth which you don’t actually see because of his head. No plaque, too detailed and non-existent in protection spells. Christ is always nude on magical amulets by the way...yes it’s weird, but it’s a fucking amulet and he was just some extra deity. And finally, never, ever, write out ‘Iesous Xristos Theou Yios Sotare.’ You write the acronym IXOYE.” You flip open the folder that was in front of you and grab a sharpie from Marcus’ file, circling the first letter of each Greek word and holding it up as if he was one of your students and you were trying to lecture him.

“Don’t even get me started on your provenance. Mount Athos? I mean for fuck’s sake, Constanza would have been a better option. At least we actually found amulets out there. How much was he asking for this?” You turn to Marcus and completely miss the starstruck eyes he’s giving you. When you raise an eyebrow at him, he finally realizes that you asked him a question.

“Uhhh 3 mil.”

“Oh boy...yeah, this is worth jack shit. Wouldn’t even do it’s intended job if you actually wore it as a protection pendant.” You watch as the man’s expression changes from anger to outrage and you barely have any time to push away your chair and hide behind Marcus before the man tries to jump on top of the table towards you. It takes Ethan and Noah approximately five seconds to tackle him down before they take him out of the room. You watch as they reach for the amulet in his pocket and give it to Henry just as they push him out.

You’re still coming down from the adrenaline rush when Marcus turns around and asks you if you are alright. As soon as you see the gun in his hands, your hold on his jacket tightens and you gulp nervously when you meet his eyes. He apologizes quickly once he sees where you’re looking and quickly puts the gun back in its holster.

“You okay?” Marcus holds your wrist and rubs his thumb over your pulse point until you begin to relax. You fix your jacket and take a deep breath before you meet his eyes, almost gasping when you see how dark and oddly calming they are.

“Didn’t think a consultation would get this exciting but uhh, yeah I’m good. I think.” You try to laugh it off but looking at the object in Henry’s hand makes you realize that the last five minutes did really happen and you actually managed to piss off someone to the point where he tried to attack you.

“And we were worried it was stolen…” Lydia shakes her head when she takes the amulet and swirls it around in her hand.

“I might be wrong but I think you should try to find out who made it, especially because of the red jasper. This came real close to a fake. And you should also try to date it as well...there might be more of these out there.” You smile when Lydia agrees and collects the folders on the table, thanking you on her way out.

“My pleasure...apart from that last bit.” You laugh it off and watch as she exits the conference room with Henry.

“So…” You turn to Marcus and whisper a quick thank you when he hands you your bag.

“So, this definitely wasn’t what I had in mind when I asked you to consult on this case. I- I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am that this happened. It’s not always like this, I promise. The exciting stuff usually happens when we find guys like him in abandoned warehouses.” Marcus continues to word vomit as he leads you back to his office.

“It’s okay really. My advisor always warned me about this.”

“About working with the FBI?”

“No no, about rambling so much that I piss off someone to the point where they try to kill me.” You’re taken aback by Marcus’ laugh and can’t help but giggle along with him as he leans back in his chair and continues to laugh.

“I hope that doesn’t mean you won’t work with us again?” There’s something in his voice that doesn’t ease the butterflies in your stomach and you place your hand on your chest dramatically as you bat your eyes at him.

“Why Agent Pike, are you trying to recruit me to the FBI?” You ask sarcastically and watch as he shrugs his shoulders before shutting off his computer and standing up.

“Just a consult here and there, should we meet another Greco-Roman artifact? Or...a fake one I guess.” You swallow the lump in your throat when you see the way he’s looking at you and hope that you’re not misreading any signs.

“Can I take you out to dinner? As a thank you and an apology for putting your life in danger?” Marcus is reluctant to ask but he takes the leap of faith and hopes that you wouldn’t reject him.

“I- actually...in all honesty, I don’t think I’ll do well in public after that whole thing.” You gesture towards the outside offices, and Marcus nods in disappointment and contemplates on whether he should ask you to dinner some other time. You never give him a chance to follow-up though.

“How about take-out at my place?” You stand up and smile when you see his eyes beam with excitement as he fixes his tie and motions towards the door.

“Lead the way doctor.” You flush under the title and walk ahead so he doesn’t notice the obvious effect he’s having on you. You glance at Marcus every now and then as you make your way out of the building and towards his car.

You chat about random things as he drives through the busy streets, and you feel your heart skip a beat when he says something scandalous about your favorite Impressionist artwork, not because of the comment but because of the way he winks at you as he slides his hand to your thighs and nudges them to let you know he was just joking. You hope that Marcus asks for your number by the end of the night, maybe even invite you to dinner again, because if you’re being honest, it’s been a while since you met a decent guy and he’s been checking all of your boxes all day long.

Kind. Intelligent. Hard-working. Funny. And of course, attractive. There was something about the way he smiles and you kept on replaying the moment he hid you behind him and continued to ask if you were alright.

“What do you mean you don’t like Bal du moulin de la Galette? It’s one of the most magnificent paintings out there. Best of Renoir’s if you ask me.” You unlock the door and switch on the lights, throwing your coat and bag on the wall before telling Marcus to make himself at him. He takes his jacket off and hangs it as well, turning around to continue his argument.

“Listen, I’m just not a crowd kind of guy. I’m more of a Paris Street, Rainy Day man okay so-”

“Why am I not surprised by that?” You laugh as you bring him a cup of water, hoping you were being subtle as you continued to check out the gun resting in his holster. Shaking your head, you take your phone out again and tell him that it’ll take you a few minutes to order pizza since neither of you can make up your mind.

Marcus looks around when you walk away to place the order, his eyes taking in the three bookshelves behind your couch. It’s almost as if the office space wasn’t enough so you had to make more room for all of your textbooks and novels. Maybe it was the other way around…

He takes a sip of water and glances to the side, instantly choking on the liquid when his eyes zero in on the three watercolor paintings hanging above your television. Marcus blinks rapidly and rubs his eyes to make sure that he wasn’t seeing things. He approaches the wall and looks between the three artworks, unable to tear his gaze away. He notices new details every time he focuses on a different corner of each painting, and his pants suddenly feel uncomfortable when he shifts closer.

“Pizza will be here in thirty-ish minutes and-” You almost drop the phone when Marcus jumps back and almost trips over his own feet. “Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.” When you walk closer and see the blush creeping down his neck, you can’t help but giggle and glance at your paintings, almost as if you were taunting him into commenting on your choice in decoration.

“These are...interesting.” Marcus avoids looking at them when you stand next to him, merely pointing to the side as he looks at you.

“Oh no...here we go. I know what that means. You don’t like them?” You tilt your head to the side and hold back from smiling when he takes a long sip of water before he sets down the glass.

“N-no no, that’s not...I didn’t mean- I just...it’s a bold choice.” His stutter makes you laugh even harder and you apologize when his blush deepens. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh. It’s always really funny when people come over because I get all kinds of reactions but you’re definitely the first guy that doesn’t call me a slut because I have pornographic paintings hanging in my living room.”

“Why not? The Dutch lords and the Italian merchants did it, why can’t you?” Marcus is almost offended by the remark and he forgets all about the awkwardness of the paintings when he sees you nod aggressively in agreement.

“Exactly!? Why is a guy allowed to hang an Odalisque in his home but I can’t hang some BDSM scenes?” You take the glass from the table and ask him if he wants more. Marcus shakes his head and quickly attempts to fix himself through his pants before you return.

“So you like them then?” You lounge on one chair and wait for Marcus to sit on the couch before you ask him.

“It’s a different aesthetic I think, and it somehow goes well with your bookshelves. Something about textbooks and nude paintings depicting sex just goes together...can’t explain how. And kudos to the artist too! The brushstrokes, the layering, the complementary colors...the scenes and positions are so natural. They’re perfect combinations. Did you pick them or did you commission them?”

“Oh I commissioned two of them. The third was just too good to not order. I’ll ask you this then, which ones do you think I commissioned?” Marcus glances to the canvases again and grows quiet for a few moments, his eyes switching from one painting to another before he meets your gaze.

“I think you commissioned the two on the left.”

“Why?” You try to hide how impressed you are by how he correctly figured you out, almost cringing when the question leaves your mouth before you could stop yourself. As much as you enjoy where this conversation was going, you really hope this wouldn’t lead to some misogynistic response on his part. Just as Marcus is about to respond, the doorbell rings and you tell him you’ll be right back.

Marcus thanks the heavens that the pizza arrives because he isn’t sure how he could respond to that question without accidentally giving his train of thoughts away. When you come back with plates and napkins, Marcus thanks you and proceeds to separate the pizza slices.

“It was the closest I could get to owning something that resembled the area I study.” You say through chewing and Marcus furrows his eyebrows, silently asking you to elaborate on your comment.

“Nudity I mean. I can’t afford sculptures so I settled with these.”

“They are beautiful. And the positions are-” Marcus stops abruptly when he realizes that his inner monologue just rolled off of his tongue.

“Go on, what were you going to say?”

“I- uh, I just think that the positions are intimate. And they become more intimate the longer you look at them.” He chews faster when you nod and take another slice of pizza.

“You have a favorite?” You ask and pretend you aren’t paying attention to every single word he says. You get the sense that he has a lot to say about the paintings but is choosing to hold back so you don’t get the wrong idea about why he is having dinner with you in your apartment after only knowing you for a few hours.

“Definitely the middle one.” His answer surprises you, especially because the one on the right has handcuffs and you genuinely thought he’d be into that because of his line of work.

“Really? Why?”

“Oh...I- this might sound weird but I think the scene is intense and- and close? Private? I’m not sure what it is I’m trying to say but the fact that she’s completely nude except for the panties around her thighs while he’s fully clothed and is focusing on her pleasure is- it’s intimate. And the hand on her back is a mixture of dominance and care, like he’s letting her know that she has his undivided attention but she has to behave for him.” You’re not sure when exactly you stopped eating and you clear your throat when you realize that Marcus was looking at you to gauge your reaction.

“Y-yeah that...ahuh.” Something about the way he says the word ‘behave’ twists your insides and you immediately stand up and head to the kitchen, whispering something about needing to wash down the food with something. Marcus eats quietly and hopes he hasn’t just made things even more awkward. When you come back and hand him a glass of red wine, Marcus relaxes and continues to eat.

“Have you ever drawn something like this?” You shake your head as you take a sip of the wine, laying against the back of the couch and crossing your legs.

“I wish. Human anatomy is so fascinating I think. I sometimes get this adrenaline rush when I look at the far right one and I tell myself that I’ll sketch all the risque and open positions I can think of but then I remember how long it would take me to finish one piece and I- I don’t have time for that sadly.”

“You can always start out with simpler ones? Maybe solo pieces, and move up from there.” Marcus mirrors you and sits back with the wine glass in his hand.

“Yeah, but I just love this kind of genre so much. It needs to be passionate, and sexy and out there you know.” Marcus smiles at the energetic response, feeling much more relaxed now that he’s had a cup of wine and found chatting about your choice in decoration less awkward.

“I get you. It’s why that lifestyle is interesting to so many people. The whole dynamic, whether we’re talking about the figures in the scene or actual partners, is based on that trust. You- you have to create that sense of trust and comfort for the scene to be enjoyable...pleasurable. It’s not as easy as some think it to be. As a Dom, you have to be aware of your partner at all times and the effect you have on them. And the same goes for a Sub too. You need to ensure that your Dom knows how much trust you put in them and the level of dedication that’s going into the scene. Both parties are depending on each other and it’s- it’s amazing.” Marcus smiles when he notices the intensity swimming in your eyes and he gives you a few seconds to collect your bearings before he asks his next question.

“Would you draw something as intimate as that?” He breaks the silence and watches your train of thought come and go.

“Would you?” You throw the question right back at him, holding in a breath when you see him lean forward with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“I would...but only if I have the right model.” Marcus doesn’t know where all of this is coming from but he can’t find it in himself to break whatever bubble the two of you found yourselves in. You’re silent for a few moments, long enough for Marcus to think that maybe, just maybe, he’s crossed the line.

But then you’re smiling at him mischievously, chugging down the rest of the wine before standing up and heading towards the hallway.

“I have an easel and some 16x20 papers lying around...I hope you don’t mind working with chalk.” You throw back at him before you walk down the hallway and Marcus has to give himself a quick pep talk before he follows you. He slowly makes his way into your bedroom and stands at the doorstep until you allow him to come in.

“I think the lighting is best in this corner but you’ll be the one working so sit wherever you prefer.” You bring over a chair and set it in front of the easel before you grab the large box of supplies and pull out all the chalk sticks that you have. Marcus nods in silence as he pushes the easel closer to your bed and begins to choose which of the chalk sticks he wants. There is a variety of shapes and sizes, and he’s not sure if he should start out bold or if he should ease himself into this. It’s been a while since he’s drawn a model and he really doesn’t want to screw up, especially because it is you.

Marcus is so busy preparing his workstation that he doesn’t notice you stripping off your clothes. You keep your eyes on him and find the little scrunch he does with his eyebrows when he focuses on something endearing. Taking a deep breath, you take off your bra and panties before laying on the bed and getting in a comfortable position. Your movements are minimal, and you stretch out your legs in wait for him. You fight the part of you that’s yelling at you to cover yourself and keep your focus on him to gauge his reaction.

“Pose however you want and we can work on the postures once we-” The words die in his throat as soon as he looks up from the easel and sees your state of dress, or lack thereof. The thick chalk stick he’s holding between his fingers snaps in half and breaks the blanket of silence that fell on the room. He visibly gulps and doesn’t try to hide the way his eyes trail down your form slowly before they return to look into your dilated ones. Marcus knows for a fact that the image of your heaving chest and hardened nipples will forever be etched in his mind.

“I- uhh, are you...c-comfortable?” He hates how much he’s stuttering and you smile at him when you notice how he is focusing on the wall behind you and not you.

You look around for a few moments, grabbing a couple of pillows and placing them behind your back before you stretch out one leg and bend the other one to your chest. Marcus almost chokes on his breath when he sees how open you are being with him but he says nothing and turns his attention to the blank piece of paper underneath his hand.

“I’m ready.” Your voice brings him out of his stupor and he nods briefly as he tries to reason with himself. He cannot draw you unless he looks at you. But he is well aware of the hardening predicament he’s currently suffering from and he’s sure you probably noticed by now the effect you were having on him.

“I won’t tell you how to do your job Agent, but artists usually have to look at the models they’re drawing to...you know, draw them.” Marcus rolls his eyes at the teasing remark, briefly glancing at you with a raised eyebrow before he begins to softly outline the shape of your shoulders. His cock twitches in his pants and he tries his hardest to not squirm too much in his seat. But every time his eyes move towards your nude form laying not five feet away from him, he silently curses himself and pretends he’s fine and that he isn’t imagining pushing you down and shoving his tongue deep into your wet cunt.

“Are you usually this quiet when you’re sketching, Agent Pike?” Something about the way you’re addressing him makes him clench his jaw tightly and he unintentionally whispers a little louder than he intends in response.

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

Your giggles let him know that you heard his remark and he is sure his face is growing a deeper shade of red but he shrugs his shoulders and ignores your obvious amusement. Marcus swallows the lump in his throat as he shifts his focus below your neck, parting his lips when he notices the tilt of your head from his peripheral vision as he ceases all movement and continues to stare at your chest.

“Oh sorry, is my arm in the way,” you lower your arms and move them behind you to support your weight, never breaking eye contact with him as you rock your bent leg back and forth and give him a full view of your most intimate parts.

Marcus is almost shaking in his seat at the sight of your breasts, unaware that he’s harshly rubbing the chalk stick with his thumb the more your leg sways to the side and reveals the outer folds of your pussy.

“P-perfect, thank you.” He whispers and returns to the sheet in front of him, biting into his lower lip as he rolls the chalk across and sketches the curves of your breasts. For a moment, he forgets what he is doing and narrows his eyes at the shapes in front of him before he smudges the black material across to shade in the skin. He looks back and forth for a couple of minutes until he’s happy with the shading of your body.

You marvel at how he’s managing to keep it together for this long when all you can think about is begging for him to fuck you into the mattress. You thought it would be easy for him to break but ever the gentleman, he takes the task seriously and tries his hardest to not dwell on your skin for longer than necessary.

A thought comes through your mind and you smile to yourself as you shift your bent leg to the side and move the other one until it falls from the side of the bed. You stare at him and hope this is what finally does the trick. And you don’t have to wait for too long because the next time Marcus looks at you, he takes a double-take and doesn’t bother to hide how he’s only focusing on the skin between your thighs.

“I thought it would be easier for you, you know. Easier access and everything.” You’re not sure what you’re going on about but you can tell that it’s taking every ounce of control in his body to not pounce on you. You hold your breath when Marcus stands up and meets your eyes, and you think this is it. This is the moment you’ve been waiting for.

But then he’s freeing the paper from the easel and moving towards you, his expression never once giving his plan away. You gulp when he kneels at the foot of your bed and sets the paper between your thighs.

“You’re right, easier access,” Marcus says as he brings the chalk down on the paper and sketches your thighs, not bothering for propriety as his eyes zero in on your slit. You know you’re wet and you can feel slick easing down your folds but you don’t move a muscle, watching him as he expertly outlines your skin before he rubs the chalk with his thumb to shade the area again.

“It’s not quite how I want it…” His remark makes you shiver and you’re about to beg him to forgo the sketch when he leans forward and nudges your legs apart, perhaps a little carelessly, before he collects your arousal with his middle finger and swipes it across your folds. You’re shocked by the turn of events and barely hold back from moaning as he dips the clean finger into your pussy and rubs your walls for a few more seconds, his soft brown eyes turning dangerous as pushes his finger a little deeper and bites his lower lip when he feels you clenching around him. Marcus turns his attention back to you, his jaw tensing when he sees sheer bliss etched on your expression. Your little gasps are music to his ears and just as he feels your hips moving against him, he pulls his hand away.

You watch him like a hawk as he inspects his finger, gasping when he smudges at the chalk on the sketch to create darker shades around your center.

“Hmm, that’s more like it.” Marcus turns to you and smirks when he sees your parted lips turn into a frown.

“Do you not like it?” He feigns ignorance and raises an eyebrow when your frown deepens as you move back into your pillows. You lean back but continue to hold his gaze as you part your thighs and lazily stroke your cunt. Marcus slowly puts down the paper and chalk onto the floor and stands up just as you begin to pinch your nipples.

“Please…” Your whispered plea shoots straight to his cock and he laughs when it turns into a whine once he makes his way to the bathroom in your room. He says nothing as he quickly washes his hands and dries them before moving back and standing next to your bed.

You don’t stop touching yourself, hoping the needy sight of you is all the push he needs to take what he wants.

“What’s your safeword doctor?” Marcus keeps his hands in his pockets as he trails his eyes down your shivering body. He’s itching to touch you but he remains still and waits for confirmation that you do, in fact, want this as much as him. A part of him knows that the two of you should probably slow down and perhaps discuss whatever this is before you go any further. But it feels right being here with you. And he doesn’t want to give it up just yet.

“J-Jasper.” Your voice breaks when you see the hunger swimming in his eyes and you shift to the center of your bed as Marcus kicks off his shoes before taking off his socks.

“Hmm.” Marcus hums as he takes off the holster from his belt and quietly places the gun on your nightstand. When he turns back and sees you watching the gun and increasing your movements, he groans down at you before walking around the bed.

“Maybe another time baby...when you and I are a little more acquainted with each other.” You flush at the implications behind his words and nod at him. You watch as he begins to roll up his sleeves and your anticipation grows with each inch of skin he reveals.

“You look so pretty sweetheart, all needy and desperate for my touch. Do you want to cum baby?” Marcus asks teasingly and you nod frantically as you begin to push two fingers into your cunt.

“Nuh uh, use your words. I’ll let it go this time but from now on, you use your words if you want something from me.” His tone is less gentle and your inner walls spasm at the thought of hearing that same commanding voice telling you to get on your knees for him.

“S-sorry yes...yes please. I- I want to cum, please.” Marcus smiles in amusement as he steps closer to the bed until his knees touch the mattress.

“Good girl. Now, if you really want to cum, then you better come here and suck me off. Be a good girl for me and show me what that sweet fucking mouth of yours can do.” His chest puffs out proudly when he sees how quickly you’re moving to please him. You lay on your stomach and palm him through his pants, moaning along with him when you find him hard and ready for you.

“May I undress you?”

“Go on sweetheart, take what you want.” Marcus caresses your cheek as you excitedly unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. He doesn’t dare look away as you shove his pants down his thighs before leaning forward and nuzzling your nose into the bulge of his boxer briefs.

“Fuck baby, are you trying to kill me?” You giggle and shake your head in response, purposely rubbing his length with your nose just before you feel his fingers combing through your hair and tugging on it.

“Remember sweetheart...bad girls don’t get to cum. Stop your teasing before I shove my cock down your throat.” Marcus pulls on your hair harshly and groans when he sees you smiling up at him.

“Is that a promise Agent Pike?” You know you’re pushing his buttons and don’t hold back from gasping his name as he rolls you onto your back and aggressively pushes his boxer briefs down far enough to free his cock. He’s not really a vain man but seeing you lick your lips and inch closer to him as you stare at his hard dick makes him just a little cocky.

“Go on baby, open your mouth. Part those pretty fucking lips for me.” Marcus pats your lips softly and shivers when you respond to him right before you shut your eyes and wait for him to give you his cock.

“Yes sir.”

His knees buckle for a second the moment you take his tip into your mouth and suck on it. Marcus is torn between throwing his head back to enjoy the softness of your mouth and keeping his eyes on you as you suck on his cock. He leans forward and bites his cheek when you relax your throat and take more of his cock down your throat.

“P-part your legs for me baby please. Let me- oh fuck, your mouth is made of magic sweetheart. Let me- let me see how wet that pretty cunt is.” Marcus is already breathing heavily and he furrows his eyebrows in focus, not wanting to end this night early. You swallow around him a few times and hum when you feel his hand cupping your breasts while the other rests around your throat.

Taking a deep breath through your nose, you try to take him down as deep as possible just as you part your thighs and begin to play with your pussy. Marcus groans and swears above you as you work him expertly and he can’t hold back from pushing the palm of his hand a little harder on your throat. He can feel his cock passing across your pharynx and moans your name over and over again when he looks down and sees drool rolling down your cheeks.

“Ahh fuck oh god, s-sweetheart you’re a fucking dream. W-where have you been all my life?” Marcus continues to kneed at your tits, but when he gets a little irritated when he sees your fingers rubbing your clit. Without warning, he leans forward as far as he can and slaps your hand away, replacing it with his own and biting his cheek when he finds you soaking.

“Shit baby, you’re so wet. Is this all for me?” You hum around him and twitch in surprise when you feel two of his thick fingers pushing past your wet folds and into your cunt. You’re already so close to coming from his teasing and you whimper when he nudges your thighs apart aggressively.

“Keep those legs open for me baby. Shit, the smell of you is fucking intoxicating. Fuck, that it’s, get on your hands and knees for me.” Marcus moves away and silences you with one look when you start to whine and reach for his cock.

“Unless you want to call it a night, you’ll get on your fucking hands and knees for me. Shit baby I’ve wanted to shove my tongue in that pussy as soon as you stripped for me.” He never breaks eye contact as he kicks away his pants and briefs before he makes quick work of his shirt. You quickly turn around and bite into your wrist as you get on all fours and try to look at him through your elbow. You reach down and ease two fingers into your cunt as you take in his broad shoulders and lean form. You swear his muscles flex the longer you stare at him and when you finally look at him, you’re a little embarrassed at being caught openly ogling him.

“Look at you, like a bitch in heat.” Regret rolls off of him as soon as he registers what he just said. An apology is on the tip of his tongue but then you’re arching your back and shifting closer to him, giving him a show as you curve your knuckles to try and hit that sweet spot inside of you.

“Oh aren’t you the prettiest sweetheart in the world.” You moan his name when he caresses your back and kneels behind you, laying soft kisses across your back as he palms and lightly smacks your ass. Marcus removes your hand away slowly but not before licking your fingers and humming around them as the taste of you fills his mouth.

“Marcus please...I- I need you inside me.”

“What do you need from me? You want my tongue and fingers? Or do you think this cunt is ready to take my cock?” Marcus nips at your skin and pushes a hand on your lower back when you try and move away from him.

“W-whatever you want...just- need to feel you inside me. I don’t care, please. Oh fuck...please.” You squeal when Marcus spreads your cheeks apart and spits on your slit right before licking across your cunt. You fist your hands into the sheets and bite down on your wrist when you feel his nose nudge at your entrance as his tongue flicks your engorged clit.

“Good answer sweetheart,” you hear him whisper just as he kisses across your folds and dips his tongue into your core. You’re already shaking with need and rock back against him, hoping he’d end your agony and give you his fingers as well. Marcus is losing his mind and he tries his hardest to focus on pleasuring you. But it’s so hard to hold back when you’re whimpering at his touch and shoving your pussy in his face to get more friction.

“Stop moving,” Marcus growls against you, and you cry out his name when his palms land on your ass cheeks three consecutive times before he rubs the reddening skin.

“Oh god, your tongue feels so good Marcus. D-don’t stop, please. I want to cum, l-let me cum. You’re so fucking- ahh s-shit.” You think you feel him smile against you as he pushes two fingers into your pussy but you can’t be sure because you suddenly feel full. Fuck, and it’s only his fingers.

“Jesus Christ sweetheart, you’re so fucking tight. Can’t wait to feel you around my cock.” He slowly parts you with his fingers and groans when he feels you squeezing his fingers. When you try to move against him again, Marcus slithers his hand across your back and grabs your neck, pushing your face into the bed as he leans over to whisper in your ears.

“You’re being such a bad girl tonight. I won’t give you another warning baby. Move again and I won’t fuck you.” You shiver when you hear his hoarse voice on your ears, grasping the pillows as hard as you can when he pushes his fingers as deep as possible and curls his knuckles.

“N-no please...I’m s-sorry- ahh gahd I’ll stop. I’ll stop.” Marcus is pleased with the effect he’s clearly having on you and almost gives in. But he wants you to cum before he takes you. From the looks of it, you aren’t looking for anything gentle, and with how hard he is, has been for the entire day, he doesn’t have the self-control to be anything but rough.

“Good girl...sweet fucking girl.” You force yourself to remain immobile as you feel him reaching deeper and applying more pressure on your spongy walls. The hand on your neck moves to your back and massages your heated skin. It takes you a while to realize that he’s reenacting the paintings in your living room and the thought shakes you to your core. Before you can even warn him, you feel a familiar pressure growing in the depths of your stomach and your heart hammers in your chest as you lose yourself to the sudden swelling sensation. You gasp his name over and over again as you cum around his fingers, and Marcus fists his hand in your hair when he feels you shuddering beneath him.

He’s shocked at how quickly you unravel at his ministrations and he doesn’t look away as he brushes his thumb against your clit and watches your body fight to not move away from him.

“M-Marcus wait- I...too much.” You can barely form a coherent sentence, let alone a thought, and you bite into the sheets when you feel his scruff scratch your skin deliciously as he licks off your juices.

“Use your safeword sweetheart and I’ll stop. But you came without asking so now I have to punish you...fuck, you taste as good as you smell baby, shit, maybe even better.” Marcus slows down but continues to move his digits across your tightening walls and when you say nothing, he sits up and twists his hand, waiting for your breathing to slow down before he begins to fuck you with his fingers.

“Oh oh f-fuck I- Marcus M-Marcus oh god...yes please fuck ahh I- I’m…” You try to warn him but he doesn’t slow down once, continuing his assault on your abused cunt until he feels you tightening around him again.

“Beg!”

“Can I- oh god, can I cum? Please fuck, I- I can’t s-stah ahh fuck.” You reach around and dig your nails into the hand fisting in your hair. You try to warn him again of what’s about to happen but he doesn’t give you a chance, picking up the pace just as he curves his digits and rubs at your sensitive spot.

“Drench me baby.” It’s all you need to fall over the edge again and your vision whites out as you convulse around him. Marcus smiles proudly when you listen to his command but his expression changes to one of awe when he feels you gush around his hand and wet his arm and thighs. He doesn’t stop once, completely captivated by the sight of your juices flowing around him so easily. When you try to move up the bed, Marcus lets go of your neck and pushes down on your lower back to keep you still. The damp spot beneath you is growing and something primal takes over Marcus. He wants nothing more than to soak the entire bed.

But he snaps out of his haze when you cry out his name and beg him to slow down. He looks at you as he gradually comes to a halt but keeps his fingers in your pussy. Marcus massages your muscles as he eases his wet fingers out of you and carefully maneuvers you until you’re laying on your back. You hiss at the sudden feeling of emptiness and almost jump away when you feel his tongue passing across the skin of your thighs. When you finally have enough mind to look at him, you’re taken aback by the sheer bliss written on his face as he closes his eyes and cleans you up. Your eyes widen in horror and embarrassment when you look at his glistening skin and you call for him shyly to grab his attention.

“I-I’m so sorry...I- I’ve never-”

“Don’t you dare apologize. That was the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen and the fact that I’m the first to make you squirt...best feedback I’ve ever gotten.” Marcus cuts you off as he licks at his forearm and fingers before he sits up behind you. You find his gaze much more intense than before and you hide behind your arm to avoid it.

“Marcus, stop.” He laughs at your sudden shyness and leans over to pull your arms away from your face.

“Please baby, don’t hide from me. Please.” You feel exposed underneath him and it’s a stupid thought considering what the two of you have been doing so far. But something about the way he’s staring at you with those deep, brown, soulful eyes makes you want to hide under the sheets. But instead, you take his hand and pull him close until he’s flush against you.

“K-kiss me.” You watch as his expression intensifies just as he leans forward and molds his lips with yours. You expected him to be rough but the way he parts his lips and allows you access to his mouth leaves you breathless. His scruff and mustache heighten the sensation and you instantly shove your tongue in his mouth when he melts against you. You hum when you finally taste yourself on his tongue and Marcus growls as the kiss grows more desperate. Just as you run out of breath, Marcus pulls away and holds back from smiling when you chase after him.

“Sweetheart, c-can I have you?” You’re amazed by how he’s still asking you if you want to do this even after the events of the past hour or so.

“Yes, please.” You respond as you push him off to resume your previous position again. Marcus feels his cock harden at the sight of you on your knees for him. But the moment shatters into a million pieces when he looks down and realizes that he doesn’t have any condoms.

“Fuck.” He hisses and begins to move away when he feels your hands reach for his thighs to stop him.

“What? What is it?”

“I- I didn’t think this would...I don’t have any condoms baby.” You stare at him for a few seconds before you break the silence and hope he doesn’t think any less of you. “I was tested after the last time and I’m clear. A-are you?” Marcus pins you with his eyes as he nods along. “I’m clean too...and, it’s been a while.” He hates to admit that last bit but he wants you to know that this, whatever it is, is serious.

“Same.” Your answer surprises him and he’s about to ask how that’s possible but forgets the question when you shift closer to him and dig your nails into his thighs to grab his attention.

“Fuck me.” The vulgar request sounds so pure rolling off of your tongue and Marcus pushes your knees wide open and settles between them. You continue to stare at him with hunger in your eyes as he strokes his cock a few times before he slides it across your wet slit. You’re already so sensitive from earlier but you can’t care less because you’ve only wanted to feel him inside you for the better half of the day. Marcus bites his lower lip and grasps your hips with one hand as he positions himself against your entrance and slowly pushes past your wet folds. He feels your walls already clenching around him and he hesitates for a moment as he moves his hands across your back to try and get you to loosen up.

“F-fuck...relax sweetheart. Relax for me please. I- I don’t- oh god, h-how are you this tight?” Your walls flutter around him when his hoarse, almost pained voice sounds through the room. “You’re doing so good baby, taking my cock in that pretty little cunt. Fuck, that’s it. Let me in sweetheart...could make you feel so good. Shit, that’s it.” Marcus cooes above you as he feels you slowly sucking him in. You sigh heavily when he finally sheathes himself completely inside you and it’s not until a few moments later that you realize he hasn’t moved a muscle.

“Marcus, m-move. Fuck, just- move.” Your impatient groans make him twitch inside you and the two of you hiss when his hips jut forward at your gasped requests. His hands hold onto you a little harshly, squeezing the skin of your hips and making you giddy at the thought of seeing those bruises the following day.

“Just wait...please baby I- I don’t want to hurt you. You feel so fucking good around me and- and I...oh fuck, f-fuck...squeezing the shit out of me. Please I-”

“Fuck. Me.” You turn your head around enough to look at him and find the sight of his sweaty forehead and furrowed eyebrows intoxicating. He can sense your eyes on him and reluctantly looks down at you when you pronounce those two words, watching as you pierce him with a harsh gaze as you roll your hips against him.

“I- are you…”

“Fucking please...take what you want.” The desperate tone of your voice breaks him and he pulls away until the tip of his cock is nudged in between your folds before he snaps his hips forward aggressively.

You shut your eyes and cry into your pillows as Marcus lets go and pounds into you. He’s no longer trying to hold back and you feel proud of the effect you have on him. Thinking back to the past hour, you realize that Marcus was going out of his way to control himself and not hurt you. But with every brush of his cock against your inner walls, with every groaned swear word and whispered affirmation, you can’t help but beg for him to fuck you harder. To take you like a crazed man. Because now that you’ve had a taste of what he’s capable of, you don’t want him to ease up on you.

“Shit baby, you’re perfect. Fucking perfect. Your cunt is begging for my cock sweetheart. Can you feel how deep I am? How deep this tight pussy is sucking me in?” Marcus nudges your knees a little farther apart as he plunges into you over and over again. You’re a moaning mess beneath him and as you try to reach back to hold onto his hands, Marcus lets go of your hips and grabs your wrists, using them as leverage to fuck you deeper.

You scream his name as his thrusts become relentless, the resonating sound of skin against skin reminding you of how sore you were going to feel for the rest of the week. You can’t really pay attention to what he’s saying anymore, choosing to focus on the way his dick fills you up completely and hits your special spot with precision. The thought of knowing that you’re at this man’s mercy and that he’s using you like he owns you makes you shudder and Marcus doesn’t realize you’re coming around him until he feels a pressure push out of you. He looks down and watches your cunt gushes on his cock and thighs again, the sight somehow even prettier the second time than the first.

He waits until you’re no longer convulsing in his arms before he thrusts his cock back into your pussy. Marcus leans down and wraps his arms around your front to bring you flush against his chest. Marcus brushes your hair aside and nuzzles into your neck as he begins to roll his hips against your ass, trying to drive his cock into you even further without hurting you. You reach around and pull on his hair when he bites on the juncture of your neck.

“You’re amazing, sweetheart.” The confession feels more intimate than anything he’s said to you thus far and you throw your head back and smile when his hands roam your front and settle on your navel.

“Marcus...please.”

“What do you need, baby? I’ll give you anything. Tell me...oh god, I- I’m so close.” Marcus kisses across your shoulder as one hand cups your breasts while the other descends to your clit. He feels you convulse around him but he doesn’t move his hand away, wanting to feel you cum one last time around his cock.

“I- I need you to cum for me...cum inside me. Fill me up baby...wanna feel you so deep inside me. Make a mess of my cunt. Please.”

“C-can you give me another?” He’s breathless, his pace faltering when he feels your walls squeeze around him tightly with every pass of his cock against your heated core.

‘I- I don’t think I can...too much baby.”

“Please, for me. Cum for me o-one last time...oh god, I’m close sweetheart. B-but I wanna cum with you. Please oh fuck- oh god, I- I’m fucking coming.” He growls into the crook of your neck as he rubs at your clit harshly, crying your name like a prayer as he feels you milk him dry. His thrusts are desperate and you pull on his hair harder than you intend when you feel his cum fill you up. Marcus can barely breathe as he shoots his seed deep in your pussy and feels you pulse around him. He continues to buck against you, the caveman mindset telling him to breed you and fill you up until you can’t take it anymore.

He stays motionless for a few minutes before he finally registers that you probably need to rest. As carefully as possible, Marcus pulls out and cradles your body against him as he lays you on your back. He looks down at you and smiles when he sees the mess he’s made between your thighs. He tries to get off the bed to bring you a cup of water and grab a wet towel when you reach out and pull him by his wrist.

“I need to clean you up sweetheart.” He tries to reason with you but you shake your head and pull harder on his hand so he could sit next to you.

“No just- come here. I need you. Please.” Marcus doesn’t have to be told twice. He lays down next to you and kisses your forehead when you cuddle into his arms. He draws circles on your shoulder and back when he feels your fingers play with his chest hair.

“Are you alright baby?” Marcus asks and pulls his head back when you hum a soft ‘yes.’ He searches your expression for any sign of discomfort, and when he finds none, he rests his head back again and lets you explore his skin.

“Hmm...did you know that hair was used in some ancient spells to ensure that the desired outcome occurred?” You break the silence after a while and Marcus furrows his eyebrows at you when you look up from his chest and meet his face.

“Uhh should I be worried Y/N?” He asks almost immediately and laughs when you panic and try to retract what you just said.

“Oh god sorry that- I didn’t mean...Jesus, I still need to work on my bedside manner.”

“I was kidding sweetheart. I actually enjoy listening to people talking about their interests, it’s a little calming. And no, I didn’t know that. What kind of spells are we talking about here?” You’re surprised by his response but say nothing and continue to follow the soft trail of hairs down his chest.

“Well, there are lots of curses that didn’t need hair but it was better if they were added...for efficacy and such. But the most common spells that required little curls like these were love spells, which technically are also curses but it sounds better when you say that it’s just a spell.”

“Are you trying to tell me something doctor?” Marcus can’t help but tease you again and he snorts when you sit up on your elbow and try to justify what you just said. He pulls you back into his arms and brushes your hair aside to take a better look at you.

“Oh no no, I just- I tend to think about this stuff at random times. Sorry. I swear I’m too much of a wimp to actually try anything. You never know if the desired outcome has any side effects...”

“No need to apologize baby. Besides, I don’t think you’ll ever need love magic with me.” The admission is out before he can stop himself and he cringes at himself, hoping that you don’t misunderstand him.

“Oh yeah, and why is that Agent Pike?” The hint of amusement in your tone lets him know that you didn’t mind teasing him back and he blinks a few times at the ceiling before he turns to gaze into your eyes.

“Well, you’re doing fine on your own being this amazing human being. You’re mesmerizing when you’re lecturing, you’re confident in your skills and knowledge, your intelligence is- I’m sure I’ve only scratched the surface with the case today. And you’re the prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen...we could work a bit on your art choices but-”

“Hey!” You slap his shoulder and try to slither away from him but he’s too quick and wraps his arms around you before you can get off the bed.

“I’m kidding, I'm kidding...your art choices are the cherry on top.” Marcus nudges your nose with his and leans down to kiss you. He smiles when you moan beneath him. But the kiss is cut short when you push him away suddenly and narrow your eyes at him.

“You never told me how you knew which ones I commissioned.”

“Ugh no please, you’re going to think I’m a pervert.” Marcus falls back on the bed and tries to hide behind his arms.

“Oh yeah?” You slowly trail your hand down his stomach and wrap it around his cock. It’s all Marcus needs to lower his arm and look down to where you’re touching him. He shuts his eyes and lets his head fall back when you lean forward and nip at his jaw.

“B-baby fuck...oh god, please. I- I need a few more minutes and-”

“Tell me, please.” You cut him off with a bite to the shoulder, giggling when he thrusts up into your loose hold to get more friction.

“I- I was picturing the two of us...fuck, re-reenacting those scenes and those two jumped out more...more than the third.” He can barely speak through the haze you’ve put him in, and moans your name when you reach down and fondle his balls just as you whisper in his ears.

“How scandalous of you Agent Pike!”

“Sweetheart, please.” Marcus whines for you, the arm around your back pulling you flush to him and giving him perfect access to your breasts. He wraps his lips around one nipple and softly sucks on it as you continue to stroke his cock.

“Hmm, I like the sound of you begging...baby. Tell me, do you by any chance have your handcuffs on you?” The question catches him off guard, and he pulls away to look at you, finding a different kind of fire dancing behind your eyes.

“Fuck…I- uhh, they’re in the car. W-wait where are you going?” Marcus regrets his answer as soon as you let go of him and jump off of the bed. He watches as you run to the bathroom without answering him, only to return a few seconds later with bright red handcuffs clanking between your fingers.

“To get my own set Agent. Like you said, you and I need to get acquainted.” You unlock them as you walk back to the bed and straddle his thighs. Marcus looks at you with adoration and softly nods at you when you silently ask him if you could cuff him to the headboard of your bed.

“I’m yours sweetheart, take what you want.”

Taglist (some aren't working):

@pastel-0-princess @feelmyroarrrr @libbymouse @its--fandom--darling @spideysimpossiblegirl @princess76179 @cheekygeek05 @miraclesoflove @purple-mango @freeshavocadoooo @metalarmsandmanbuns @acthenerd @greeneyedblondie44 @cannedsoupsucks @purplepascal042 @talesfromtheguild @f0rever15elf @vibin-hippie @onesmokinbabe @leaiorganas @words-way-of-life @kideyz @lovesickmadsadpoet @niall7inches @rosiefridayrogersunday @tati-adventures @sleep-tight1 @itsfreeekinbats @cybergroupie @vibin-hippie @marsplsstop @fan-of-encouragement @evelynseventyr

#marcus pike x reader #marcus pike/reader #marcus pike #marcus pike fanfiction #the mentalist #pedro pascal #yall don't understand how much I love this fucking character #he's literally the softest #and he deserves the world #ugh #anyway

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dahniwitchoflight · 3 years

Text

man, a lot been happening on the internet lately, talking about content creators and parasocial relationships being a big topic recently

I almost don’t wanna post anything about it, cuz I’m not sure how to avoid any sort of stirring of the pot, but there’s an angle to this situation that I think a lot of people are confused about, and that’s “where does the fault lie when a person gets hurt in a parasocial relationship?”

And people I guess are thinking this is some sort of case of power dynamic’s, but I think thinking of it in these terms is incorrect to be perfectly honest

does a content creator seem to have a lot of sway over someone who’s fallen into a parasocial relationship with them? sure it can seem that way

but is that the content creator’s fault? No, as bad as that sounds to the tumblr crowd

this is NOT the power dynamic between an abusive father and their child, or a skeezy boss and their secretary, or any other real abusive power dynamic where the victim faces some sort of real consequence for not being compliant with the abuser’s wishes

this is the dynamic between a casino and someone with a gambling addiction.

can you argue that the gambling addiction/parasocial relationship wouldn’t exist without the casino/creator existing? sure you can

can you argue that it’s within the interests of the casino/content creator to get customers and fans? absolutely

but can you also say that the problem in the situation here is inherent to the person with the actual addiction problem here? someone who gets too invested in the scenario through their own desires and or addiction problems? That many people can go to a casino or be a fan of a person in a perfectly reasonable healthy amount and never get hurt or encounter any issues? Yeah

Even if you dislike the casino/creator and have hard feelings for putting you into a situation where you believed you were gonna win it all, even though the odds of that happening were never in your favor, and rightfully feel you’ve been victimized by them, the casino/creator existing and doing there thing I really don’t believe is the thing at fault here

I think there’s something to the idea that people who are vulnerable to addictions like gambling and thinking that theyll win the jackpot of millions against impossible odds is not too dissimilar from a singular fan of some content creator thinking, this is it, I’m the one theyll fall in love with over everyone else, against all the odds itll be me

and also whatever prevents them from realizing that the consequences of losing would apply to them as well, other people in the casino might lose all their savings, but it wont happen to me. Other people might get lost in the fantasy and then end up being dumped, but it wont be me

I think the brain juice would see these as very similar situations, and this addiction angle I think explains a lot for how people get into parasocial relationships in the first place and why they feel like it’s so hard to get out

but people are still free to believe that casino’s/content creators are morally corrupt institutions, just from their nature of the fact that their livelihood depends on people and fans crowding to their type of entertainment

At the end of the day, they cannot control what their fans are going to do, they can’t read the minds of anyone who chooses to come to their establishment, they can’t know at a glance or through conversation who’s going to get addicted and who isn’t, they can only see warnings signs after the fact and then damage control, it’s just a messy reality of life that it happens

There are best practices to prevent these types of things sure but those don’t catch every case and inevitably there are going to be people who fall through the cracks anyway

the correct approach here is to mitigate the addiction problem. that’s the real thing at fault here, not any one person

so to answer the question, where does the fault lie when someone gets hurt in a parasocial relationship?

you might be a victim yes, but not a victim of the casino, as much as it can feel like that, your a victim of an unfortunate affliction

people can be dismissive and yell all they want about alcoholics being drunks, or gamblers having no spine and should just be able to not go to a casino, or people who are overinvested fans should just be able to stop back and not care about a creator so much, but I understand that it’s not that easy

but it still doesn’t make it the fault of whatever you got addicted to, It doesn’t make it anyone’s fault, and the casino/creator has less power over an addicted individual than you think, short of banning them entirely, there isn’t much they can do from their end to mitigate an individual’s behavior, I think that is something some people need to hear, I hope people don’t think I’m callous or believe that people weren’t genuinely hurt by the events that happened to them or something

but the fix to this problem doesn’t lie on the casino’s/creator’s end, it lies in mitigating the addictive disorder in the individual’s in particular’s end

this is purely speaking from someone who runs a blog and has thoughts for a fandom that once upon a time a lot of people seem really invested in, (not so much nowadays lol)

I cannot control anyone of you, I don’t know any one of you, no matter how much I might try or get close or how close any person out there gets to me, I still can’t predict when I might encounter someone who seems overly starstruck, and in no way do I have the ability to navigate those kinds of relationships properly. I simply do not have that sort of therapeutic training and I think it’s a little bit unreasonable for people to expect that from me, despite how charismatic or not I seem like

I just have indeed had instances where another person got really overinvested in “Dahni Witch of Light” and wanted to be in my inner circle of socialness and friends and might have been hurt when I declined that, but at the same time, I can’t do anything about that (thankfully I’m not any sort of real popular LOL and it’s only really happened like once or twice, that I know of, since they made their feelings clear to me in private, but that’s still one or two people that might have gotten hurt)

So what does this all have to do with stuff?

I’ve read all the anecdotes about both Dan Avidan and Vinny Vinesauce, read all the docs, see all these people’s point of view, and yeah it sucks that they got hurt by the circumstances, but all that stuff meant to paint these people in a bad light? did more to me to paint them in a really good light

I saw nothing but people making sure they had the comfort and consent of everything they were involved in, doing best practices when it comes to relationships, talking about their feelings, about their expectations and also doing what they can to protect themselves and their privacy

again the worst things I saw about either of them, is danny building up the fantasy of being with a rockstar a bit too much, egging on any potential parasocial relationship issues that might have already existed, and vinny giving someone HPV (which, is debunked in of itself because that’s not how HPV works in men, even outside of vinny that’s just not how it works.)

the rest of all the stuff I saw esp in the vinny doc, was people not even accusing vinny of saying or doing anything wrong either, but miles and miles of “I assumed he was thinking x” or ”I assumed he was feeling y” and no attempts to communicate with him about any issues they had with him, because they felt awkward doing so, and instead let it fester inside them until they got hurt by it

this is not sexual assault, their mild discomfort about stuff never even happened over sexual topics, just bland things like him over-venting to them sometimes or having lowkey mental issues like being paranoid a little, this is not even being intentionally hurt by someone, this is being bad at communicating with your partner and letting yourself endure a relationship you weren’t actually happy with, because you didn’t want to get dumped by the person you were invested in

and if you feel like you can’t honestly communicate with your partner, not because of anything they did to you, but because of your own internal conflict over how famous he is, and feeling like you’re forced to endure things you aren’t vibing with in a personal relationship

(mind you, I mean the things they said they endured in the doc which was, they didn’t like when vinny would get ranty about his friends or previous sexual encounters he had that went bad or they got weirded out because they thought he was too paranoid about stuff when they were together....which... okay so like tell him you don’t want to hear about that stuff? communicate your problems to your partner? end of story? you never even attempted that, you never even gave examples of things you thought he would do to you other than dump you if you spoke up...... which, I’m sorry, but that’s not some sort of consequence a victim faces from their abuser.... so you can’t even say he would have had a bad reaction, especially when you give examples of him doing exactly the opposite, apologizing for things that made other people uncomfortable WHEN theyve actually communicated to him that they were uncomfortable with it)

-Those are signs that you are too overinvested and too parasocially invested with a person to have an honest relationship with them

like, heck these things aren’t even unique to partnerships, you should be able to communicate when anyone around you is making you uncomfortable, even friends, but if you can’t and the only reason you can’t is because of a parasocial investment in that person, that’s not healthy on your end

Danny sure seems to have been a little bit at fault for building up the fantasy of catching feelings for a famous dude when he intended one night stands, is that the best way to have navigated the situation? No probably not, but to a person who doesn’t have a parasocial relationship with him, this behavior would just be disappointing when the fantasy fizzled out, it’s not inherently harmful

after that point, if after the fact a person who had any sort of interaction with them felt hurt by the experience, there honestly is not much more a content creator could have done to mitigate that, in fact Vinesauce I think seems at least more aware of the parasocial thing and tried more strongly to vet the people he was with to not be those kind of people, but again people aren’t mind readers and nothing will ever be foolproof like that, and I guess some people even took him trying to vet that kind of behavior as hurtful in and of itself, (they took him venting about previous parasocial relationships he had and how paranoid and upsetting they were to him, and took it as some sort of threat against them personally, like they were trying to mindgame what exactly he was telling them, assuming he was saying something else that he wasn’t, which, is assumptions that live entirely in their own minds) but I’m just sitting here like, what else could they have done?

I get that people who had sexual relationships with these people could come away feeling really awful about it, feeling manipulated or duped in some way, but what else could have been done to prevent that from happening other than the people in question just, never interacting with anyone? Which is not a realistic solution, and doesn’t fix the problem of the victim in question moving on and getting starstruck by someone else and having it happen it all over again

If these people want to make friends, want to make relationships with anyone, want to have casual sex, want to have any sort of human connection, there unfortunately gonna have to sort the people they encounter into two different groups, people who have parasocial relationships with them and people who don’t, (and this is NOT people are fans of them and people who are not, you can be a fan and not get caught into the parasocial thing) and it is impossible to get this correct in every single individual social experience that theyre gonna have with every single individual human being, regardless if it’s a sexual relationship or not

in conclusion, I really do hope the people who were hurt by all this can truly heal and move on eventually from this, in no way am I trying to lessen their experiences, but I really don’t think other people deserved to be hung from the gallows over this, it’s no one person’s fault, neither the fan’s or the content creator’s, it’s just a messy interpersonal situation

I believe the correct thing to do is spread awareness about the warnings signs that you might be falling into a parasocial relationship, more effort needs to be put into what this looks like, what it feels like, how to avoid it, how to mitigate it, and how to regulate the very real feelings of love and affection someone might have for a person they see all the time in media but don’t have a real connection with, with the understanding of yeah, if you really can’t enter a casino without losing your life savings, a very real conversation needs to be had if you should even be entering these casino’s/watching their content at all

#my main conflict over this post is is this actually helpful at all or is this just hurting stirring things up more #I don't believe my position is an unreasonable one to have #and i do believe there is something to be gained from reading it #but i don't want to hurt anyone either

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wntersfire · 3 years

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GET TO KNOW ME TAG GAME

Before I start I would just like to say (tw alcohol for now and question 19) sorry for any spelling mistakes or if I ramble a little. To cut a long fuckin story short I mis read the measurements of my shot glasses and so instead of having two cocktails I’ve had the equivalent of four in the space of an hour and a half. Being british, im not gonna let a good drink go to waste either so im onto my third/sixth now.

Tagged by @clints-lucky-arrow (an actual goddess among us mortals)

1. Why did you choose your URL?

So this reason is two-fold. One, I didn’t watch star wars growing up because I was dumb and didn’t understand the politics (it wasn’t until my boyfriend sat me down and explained it literally in January of this year that I actually got it) but I loved Sci-fi and space so the next best thing was Treasure Planet (2003 film, Available on didney+) My favourite scene is the ending when Long John Silver (spoilers) is about leave before he can be arrested and Jim confronts him. Seeing how much his character has grown, Silver says to Jim, “Look at you, glowing like a silver fire. You’re something special, Jim. You’re gonna rattle the stars, you are.” It literally makes me tear up every single time I watch it and its one of my favourite lines of all time. Second, this was actually quoted in one of my favourite book series ‘Throne of glass’ by Sarah J Maas. I adore the character of Celeana and again one of my favourite quotes from TOG is when Queen Elena says to Celeana“ You could rattle the stars. You could do anything, if only you dared.” Every time I read that line I literally get chills and I actually have plans to get this tattooed on me lmao

2. Any side blogs?

Yes my fanfic blog @second-stars-totheright (I like puns and I used to love peter pan)

3. How long have you been on tumblr?

I joined when I was 13 for the fanfiction and lurked for a very long time, just reblogging and liking things until I deleted it when I was 17. Re downloaded the app and got my account back back around February of this year (when I was 19, now 20) and since then I’ve found it much friendlier and actually interacted with people this time around, and actually started posting my work on here!

4. Do you have a queueue tag?

No. This is my general postings blog so I just kind of stick anything funny or worth keeping here, but I probably should make one!

5. Why did you start your blog in the first place?

As I said to read fanfiction (anyone wondering it was 5 seconds of summer fanfiction. Anyone who judges me in the comments its fair game 🥺) but I re-downloaded it this year because I noticed with my work on Wattpad, while I had some do really well (one has gotten 130k+ views) its very difficult to actually interact with readers and get feedback. I’ve only accumulated that high of a number after 5 years of it being on there, and so tumblr is just so much more personal!

6. Why did you choose your icon/pfp?

I did it this morning as I was getting tagged in this lmao. I wanted a cartoon girl who looked like me but because I had a specific colouring (ie my hair is black with a blonde streak at the front & my eyes have both blue and green segments because I have heterochromia) I couldn’t find any that looked like me so I recoloured a cartoon girl I found on pinterest.

7. Why did you choose you header?

The white clouds fit the stars theme and it looks pretty with the purple. ✨💜

8. Whats your post with the most notes?

“That girl is a problem | Javier Pena x Agent!Reader part 1” with 105 notes on my fanfic blog.

9. How many mutuals do you have?

I am still a little tumblr idiot when it comes to this so if someone could tell me how to find out I'll edit this

10. How many followers do you have?

72 on here, 107 on my fanfic blog (AND I LOVE ALL OF YOU ACROSS BOTH OF THEM MWAH, MWAH KISSES FOR YOU ALL 💜💜💜)

11. How many people do you follow?

165 (it was 700+ but the other day I unfollowed a bunch of accounts that haven’t been active since I followed them when I was 13. There were LOTS)

12. Have you ever made a shit post?

I mean all you have to do is look at the Nomad memes I make (UNAPOLOGETICALLY I might add 😤) for @clints-lucky-arrow to know I absolutely have. That series has a hold over me im telling you. I black out when I start reading and I awake with a bunch of meme editing apps open and my feelings tugged at from her amazing writing.

13. How often do you use Tumblr each day?

If I’m with my boyfriend which is like two days a week, rarely, but now I’ve finished uni, I’m on here all the god damn time. I feel so comfy and safe interacting with you all, not to mention some of you guys are funny as hell.

14. Did you have a fight with a blog once?

Not really on here, I haven’t received any hate luckily but I prefer not to spoil how comfy I am here with arguing.

15. How do you feel about ‘you need to re-blog this’ posts?

I’m a little confused by this I dunno whether I’ve just never come across any like this or if Stars is being a bimbo on the tl again. However, I only reblog things I’d like to keep for future reference or if something deserves to be shared to everyone else like a fic rec or a piece of art. (As Mack said, I’ve re-blogged so many in the past promising me money or luck and I am still broke as shit so what does that tell you).

16. Do you like tag games?

Yes!! I love reading everyone elses and getting to know my mutals better!

17. Do you like ask games?

Again yesss because it means I get to send love to my mutuals and get to know them better! I tend to not participate though just read their responses because I sometimes feel like I’m bugging people clogging their inboxes even though I know that’s the point idk I’m a hell of an over thinker sometimes 🥳

18. Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

It’s been said before but @clints-lucky-arrow (wow you rlly owning this post bby girl) but I just remember lurking on Nomad early February and liking and reblogging her chapters so I could keep them to re-read cause that’s how much I instantly loved it and when she followed me I realised who she was and lowkey had a starstruck moment bcus id been ciaght up in her work for weeks and too nervous to make contact. Also @arduadastra, I saw her work all over the pedro tags for so long and now I’ve gotten to know her she is the sweetest girl!! We usually fan over Javier Pena gifs together, she’s solely responsible for ‘That girl is a problem’ bcus of her gif sending at 1am giving me Javi thots and now it’s my most successful one on my blog. And most recently @pedrosgirlx followed me this morning and her work is genuinely some of the best I've seen on here, as I said this morning it is the Sistine Chapel ceiling of Mando art it is actually jaw dropping!! I cant believe all these creators are rlly giving us this content for free and yet being so talented AND the nicest people I’ve ever met!!

19. Do you have a crush on a mutual?

No, although I hold a lot of them dearly as friends. 15/10 would treat you lovelies to a drink of your choice if we ever met (any of you from the uk who drink I’d get you a pitcher from Whetherspoons)

20. Absolutely no pressure tags:

anyone who wants to join! a lot of people I would have tagged have already posted theirs so go for it if you like the look of it!

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tbtssstuff · 4 years

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BTS meeting you for the first time

+RE-POST+

AN: I would like to say that when I originally made this, I had a WHOLE different series thing in my mind, but after I posted it I got my first ever request! So then I forgot what I was going to do 😔 But oh well! It can be a stand alone. Also I changed the song y/n was humming in Yoongi’s part... Seemed more fitting 👀 👀

Masterlist

-TJ/ TacoAdmin 🌮

Seokjin

You were the head chef of a very high end restaurant

Jin was always recommend your restaurant so he decided “eh why not?” and took the boys out for dinner

Almost moaned when he tasted your food

He had never tasted anything so amazing and he’s had his own cooking!

Demands (but asks politely) to meet the chef in charge

One of the waiters came to get you and told you everything

You almost fainted hearing the KIM SEOKJIN from BTS wanted to meet you over your cooking

Everyone who worked with you knew how much of an ARMY you are, so they are happy for you

When meeting him you appear completely calm, though you are screaming on the inside

Gotta keep things professional

He promises to come back again

Says it’s for your cooking, but he really wants to see the beautiful chef again

Namjoon

He’s always seen you around the park, going on a jog or walking your dog

Thinks you’re absolutely stunning

One day Namjoon decides to go sit in the park to clear his head

That’s when he sees you again

You had your headphones in and didn’t seem to notice when you bumped into him

“I’m so sorry!” You both exclaim at the same time

He goes to reach for your phone (which you dropped) and sees that you were listening to Converse High

Which seemed appropriate once he saw you were actually in converse, jeans, and a white shirt

Namjoon wanted to know you

While you already knew who he was and when he smiled that adorable dimple smile while handing you your phone, you were smitten… again

“Nice taste in music” he would joke

“Only the best” you smiled

Yoongi

Yoongi only wanted one thing

Coffee

He just didn’t seem to account for was the new very attractive barista who had 3 stickers of shooky on her name tag

Instant panic would have ensued and he would have left, but he was so damn coffee deprived that he sucked it up and walked to the counter

You were humming Daechwita when he approached you

“Hi. what can I get for you to-“

You immediately got starstruck when you saw him

He was so much better looking in person

Like damn

But he also looked super tired

“Hi. What can I get for you today?” You tried again

Yoongi smiled

You knew who he was, obviously freaked when you saw him, but tried not to make a big deal out of it

Which he appreciates because causing a scene will attract a lot of unwanted attention

“One coffee. Black.”

“And maybe your number”

Hoseok

Two things that Hoseok was known for was dancing and helping his friends. So when a friend who ran a dance studio asked him to come teach a class, he couldn’t resist

What are friends for right?

You had been going to that dance studio for about 3 years now, loving every second of it

Most of it you spent freestyle dancing, but you would also learn a bunch of BTS choreograph

Which is definitely nothing to sneeze at because a lot of them were really difficult

You weren’t even going to go to the dance class, you were extremely tired from work and just wanted to go home, but your friends convinced you to

You were sitting on the floor stretching when he came in

Once you saw him you about jumped out of your skin

Your friends laughed at you

Of course they would. They knew he was your bias too

Half way through the class he came behind you and re-positioned you

God his hands felt nice on you

This man must have read your mind because he leaned in close to your ear

“You’re cute. Meet me after class.”

Jimin

Jimin loved to preform for ARMY, but sometimes it was nice to be in the audience

Which is why he loves open mic karaoke night at a bar in down town

He always wore a hat and glasses

And sat in the back

Can’t be too careful

Most of the people going up to sing weren’t bad, but they weren’t good either

That didn’t matter though. It was just nice to see them

Then it was your turn

Not only did he almost fall out of his chair because of how beautiful you were, but he heard Serendipity come over the speakers

Sure he has heard many ARMYs sing it, but you

Wow

He wanted to record it and use it on an album instead of his own voice

Once you were done and got off the stage he was determined to find you again

“You know you sounded absolutely amazing up there”

Taehyung

To say you were freaking out would be an understatement

Of course right after the BTS concert ended you would lose your phone

Why does the world hate you?

The only good thing was security pitied you so they let you back in to look

Of course not without them being too far from you, which was fair

You rummage through the floor seats just praying no one stole it

You just went to a concert of course your ass was broke! You can’t afford a new phone!

You sat in a seat frustrated

Then someone laughed at you

Rude

You snapped your head up to glare at whoever decided it was okay to laugh at you

But then you saw Taehyung sitting on the edge of the stage in front of you

Suddenly you weren’t as mad anymore

“Why are you laughing?” You asked

“I’m guessing it was you that lost this.”

And then he held up your phone, which was lit up to show your lock screen

A picture of him and above it says “don’t touch my fucking phone unless you are Kim Taehyung”

“Looks like it’s a good thing I found it” he smiled and winked

Jungkook

Welp it was official

You were dead

Deceased

No more

As you stood in front of Jeon Jungkook at a fan meet, you held his and and told him how amazing his tattoos were and how you wish he could show them

And he smiled at you

Then kissed YOUR hands

Y/N.EXE has stopped working

He smiled at your bright red face and thought you were the cutest thing he’d ever seen

“Why don’t you tell me your name? Seeing as you know mine and we can maybe get lunch sometime”

Yep. You were dead

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thepearlyone · 3 years

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Artific-ial Desires

Pearly’s Notes: this one feels like one of my best ones yet! Not that this didn’t take a while, but it feels like I went through like nine or ten good, working drafts on this. Though it didn’t end up how I initially envisioned, the beast it has become is still so beautiful.

~for kiera~

(or, read it on google docs here! )

~~~~

The triangle-shaped corner store had recently sold- which wouldn’t have been notable in the slightest, except for the buyer. In just the past few days, grime was stripped away, windows were sparkled, new furniture rushed in, all at a breakneck pace- which was typical only for the most elite. And what’s more, the construction company was not the ‘ol reliable mom and pop’ kind, but a very specific one most people in the area didn’t even know. Therefore, someone had to be asking the gossip to spread like wildfire- and all signs pointed to the Lady Von-Quirandra.

The throng filled the entranceway to the newly refurbished boutique, packing themselves all into a doorway and front hallway meant for at least twenty people fewer. There was something about this kind of crowd that meant a spectacle- and Cassandra wasn’t about to miss out on one. It looked like she’d missed out on whatever the first showcase was, as the artificer had their back turned and was clearly answering a question while herding the crowd to another.

“Oh, they’re my own creation- you wouldn’t be able to even find anything remotely similar anywhere else, much less a shop that can match the level of intricate craftsmanship.” She muttered under her breath something about arrogance leading before a great fall, but the speaker’s bold claim definitely seemed apt.

Everything in the shop was dripping with quality, sometimes literally. The fine swirls of one of the displayed rings caught everyone’s eyes initially- the crowd even rushed forward in an attempt to prevent it from melting. Each ring in that display was set up and carefully lit (inside each box, of course) to appear as though it was melting, but each one was so solidly constructed that no one could say anything unpleasant about the effect.

“Now, onto another small invention of mine, I’m proud to finally unveil these-“ It was just a simple pair of diamond-shaped earrings. They looked impressive, but there really wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. At least, if there was, it wasn’t visible at the first blush, and the crowd was hurried over to the next booth quickly enough. However, Cassandra definitely wanted to ask about them, as if a one-on-one were even possible with such a famous artificer. She noticed the crowd thinning, as some of the younger members quickly fanned out to run home- after all, entering artificers’ shops were the kind of thing that mothers gave strict punishments for- and she could tell that a couple more of those leaving couldn’t have afforded the ‘intricate craftsmanship’ but wanted to have hope talked into them.

She tarried for as long as she could to look at the diamond-shaped earrings. The gems seemed to be simple studs, although she knew that a lot of concentration had been poured into the project. It was simple- but that made it all the more dangerous, as it could lure people into a false sense of security. The posts seemed to be a material similar to silver, but in the right lighting, Cassandra swore she saw it shimmer.

Ushered kindly to the next booth by everyone’s absence, she admired the plentiful array- sets, fully decked out in black velvet backing, laid out for the finest of society. These had to be personal commissions, things made for specific people in mind- either the artificer knew some slaves or nobles in need of their services, or perhaps they contacted THEM-

She chided herself on even considering that possibility- what the hell was she thinking? No noble-born family, especially not anyone the D’Antonias knew, would ever consider reaching out-artificing was dangerous business. No one ever cared how it happened, either, because if you stuck your neck too close to find out- it could end up adorned in the next showcase.

“Now, we’ve not yet gotten a private room, but those of you interested in our… New Acquisitions, please step this way. I’d be delighted to… guide each of you to them.” Even more fanned out, leaving a still rather sizeable crowd, with only a handful of them taking the opportunity to privately take an appointment.

New Acquisitions- the not-so-secret code word for slaves, either legal or illegal. Slaves had been quite controversial when first introduced a few decades ago, but now every family worth their weight in gold had them, and it was almost just another job. Slave applications were valuable and showed that you were selflessly serving another family- but there were still criminals. Unscrupulous individuals, people who might seek out an artificer to do the dirty work rather than submit their findings to the Justice Computer… Unhappy spouses, unruly coworkers, anyone who might be able to scrape up enough cash.

Then again, they could end up in the same position they wished for someone else- when trying to trick an artificer… It was always hard to tell with them. Everything was.

The lucky moment meant that she could go back to examining what she pleased- the simple earrings. Cassandra was very careful not to touch anything, but she drew quite close to them. The plain diamond-shaped crystals didn’t seem to hold any secrets, and as she carefully maneuvered the box into the light, it merely added to her curiosity. The earrings’ posts still sparkled slightly, meaning this had to be some sort of odd material- but it would only mean that Cassandra would have to ask. Why one pedestal and ‘proud to unveil’ for one pair of earrings that didn’t have anything odd to them?

~~~~

The individual meetings went by faster than anyone could imagine, with more of the crowd flowing out of either the showroom or shop- dazzled at the spectacle. Cassandra carefully slinked back towards the main group, acting as though she was admiring other pieces- a ring here, passing the couple of sets, until-

“Ah, hello there- I hope you’re enjoying the new opening?” She gasped, as they drew much closer to her. The fourteen people now left in the shop began to spread throughout the shop’s layout, leaving her in a far more intimate setting than she previously thought possible. The crowd cover had certainly been nice- but they were now milling up and down the aisles to gawk at the dainty jewelry, the tinkered toys, and the gorgeous gadgets.

Her attention snapped back to the artificer, who was now holding a curious device, one that seemed to be purifying the air. Cassandra had heard about them before, but never seen one so close, or so small- much larger versions were used in air factories. It only took her a few seconds to understand it- the small embroidered gas-bag at the back would fill, and slowly get puffed out by the user- and her mind dismissed it from any chance of danger.

She gave a polite yet faint smile, her mind racing to prepare some sort of platitude that would be enough to avoid detection.

“I certainly admired many of your pieces.” This was said with more than a little trepidation, which the artificer seemed to enjoy, bringing out a smile from underneath their goggles and wide-brimmed smithing hat.

“oh? So you know the rules…” And she did. She was very well-acquainted with them: her mother had even had a few friends whisked away under the Equal Rites, she’d seen them happily smiling with enchanted collars and enchanted rings… of course, for some of them she had been too young to understand, but now-

The slight puff of air brought her quickly back to reality, where the artificer stood next to her. They were clad in a soft shimmering gown, one that played off of their curves just like some of the rings on display. It wasn’t as frilly or poofy, and yet seemed to accentuate their body shape with an extra dimension- lending an odd effect to the gown. Cassandra wasn’t familiar with the material- as many artificers used off-world or off-dimension materials in their own creation… And now it was clear she was staring again, so she had to clear her throat and ask a question or else seem like a buffoon.

“Your own design?” This elicited a knowing smile, and a slow circular glide from their feet in a twirl around. This was to show the dress off, undoubtedly, and Cassandra delighted in it.

“No, unfortunately- but it was my material. The dressmaker from that forest with the slightly lewd name, in case you’re wondering how to get a matching set.” The reply almost seemed teasing, knowing- as if they could know her life story with just a glance. Again, not as if she’d be able to afford anything close to a single piece from the shop without serious considerations both conceptual and legal, financial (and legal) assistance, and magical ward prevention insurance. Even drafting up a contract would be far above her abilities and pay grade, but it could be the only surefire way to avoid any nastiness from anyone involved- especially an artificer.

“Hmm.. I would typically ask if there was one piece that stuck out to you, but I get the feeling I already know what it is. Given your silence… I’d like your name before I guess.” The remnants of the crowd had been slowly filtering out, unbeknownst to her, with one or two pieces being sold- the in-shop lawyer was already beaming and haggling with clients which Cassandra *had* seen- and the corner-store size lent the appearance of being quaint or familial. She had to admit it was a clever arrangement.

“I- sorry. Between the dress and the other pieces, I guess I’m a little starstruck. It’s not every day you get to ‘meet’ one, you know.” She hoped that her cheeks hadn’t blossomed into a blush- although there was no way to know for sure, only to hope and observe the artificer. She also hadn’t meant to any malice, although the hint of a second meaning was merely waiting to be picked up.

They were dangerous folk- many artificers had been caught with entire houses or brothels full of newly-rited thralls. Even tales of just one catching the eye of an entire town, using nothing but forks or pushpins or paperclips or slivers of metal and the inimitable inextricable tool that was their own wit, danced around the fringes of villages. Artificers were not to be listened to, a ‘boogeyman’ that assisted everyday life, that generously acted while greedily taking- in the same instance. Payment could very well be ‘your firstborn’ when dealing with them, and if it was… You’d best hope you weren’t an eldest child.

They took just another second to respond, a hand darting out from the gown. An immaculate white glove, made from plain cloth- which caused her internal tension to unwind quite a bit- which asked for her own hand.

“The name is Von-Quirandra, as I’m sure you’re no doubt aware. The shop is mine, recently acquired with… a little help.” The slight break made Cassandra take note, but she was careful not to advertise it as they continued-

“You may be wondering about the lawyer, he’s a family friend and came with the store.” She noticed a slight glint in the light, and this may have tipped them off because they continued, “Any and all gifts would be voluntary, non-contractual, and specifically not enchanted.”

“After all, I couldn’t expect someone to willingly accept things from an artificer without proper vetting or lineage- so you may view his, in the back office.”

They cleared their throat again, “As I requested, your name would be..?”

“Cassandra.” She didn’t know why she offered it so plainly.

“Cassandra…” The soft utterance, a shower of heavenly stars captured and smoothed into a ribbon off of which the word slid. They said it plainly yet perfectly, her skin crawling with delight and disquiet- but more of the former.

“Cassandra. Quite a lovely name. May I guess which piece caught your eye?” She nodded gently, as if trying to quiet and push aside the thoughts that yelled about the danger of even talking to an artificer.

“My first guess would be the Quirmian Collar- oh, I mean- the one on display towards the front of the store that you must have seen as you entered.” Truth be told, that was the one she’d missed, although the light was quite pretty on it. A highborn slave might wear such a necklace, so it wasn’t something Cassandra could have or even aspired to. No, their family didn’t wish for slaves- or wish to be them.

“Judging by the way you haven’t lit up like a firework, I’d say another one.. Allow me to try again- a private commission of mine? Perhaps the jade engraved set- I bet…” This time, their face moved even closer to her, as if quizzically judging her.

“No.” The terse response plopped out after another moment of silence.

“I see, Cassandra. Might I be permitted one last guess?” They matched her grin, and Cassandra hoped with all her heart that she didn’t appear to be blushing. With how both afraid and stimulated she was, her brain continued to rattle off reasons to leave, but her feet stayed put.

“The third and final guess is… Hmm. I don’t wish to waste it… I can rule one thing out, though- I know you didn’t request a private showing, so I’ll guess… the melting rings, using the sands of Terr-sichoré?”

Their previous smile began to curl into a frown. Their eyebrows, too-

“You seem to be much more of a mystery than you let on, Cassandra. Please.”

She blinked, unsure of what exactly to do and yet still recovering from the way they said her name.

“Please, tell me some more- what did you like? How might I know you?”

“I-uh, well, you know my name, and I come from the D’Antonia-“

“Oh!! Oh my goodness, Cassandra D’Antonia… I am humbled to have you in my presence.” Their crimson lips whispered the word with a soft affect- the perfect shiver traveling up her back in accordance with it. Her cheeks were now a beet-red. There was no chance of hiding it anymore.

“Thank you. I, erm, happened across the crowd, and…”

“There’s nothing to apologize for. The crowd seemed to mostly be there to be talked to, but I did get quite a few purchases. More than I expected, if I may confide in such a prestigious family. It’s a shame that-“

Cassandra turned, hearing rather loud footsteps, which revealed just how startled and absorbed in each other they both were. She swore that despite her own reddening cheeks, the Lady Von-Quirandra seemed to be blushing as well. They turned back towards the lawyer, and were handed a report- although it only needed a quick scan of her attention.

“Ah, thank you. If you could, I think we could use a little more privacy.” The Lady Von-Quirandra handed it back to the lawyer, who withdrew to the office again, but that comment stuck in her mind. It caused her to notice-

She was alone. With an artificer. In their own shop.

“So, Cassandra- I understand you are just a bit afraid. There’s plenty of reason to be… but for a lady such as yourself, I wouldn’t dare try anything unless you asked for it.” their gown swished gently as they drew within whispering distance, voice so soft and smooth.

“I would be wonderfully glad to show the D’Antonia house around. If there is anything you can think of…”

The answer leapt from her mouth before she had time to realize it.

“The earrings.” Realizing she’d said it out loud, her eyes widened in intertwined surprise and fear, her arm now moving up to clamp her mouth shut.

Their eyes flashed in shock behind the goggles, so much so that they removed them.

“Oh my… Cassandra… I didn’t think it would be you who might fall prey to them.” The reverence that they had for her name… Goddesses be damned, the artificer might as well be kissing her right on the-

Her cheeks were barely able to burn a brighter red, as the flame colors spread up her ears and forehead. Banishing the thought, she blinked- only to look into the Lady Von-Quirandra’s… beautiful eyes. Their visage was so soft yet toned, pale- but it had a moonlight brilliance to it.

Even more striking, they took her hand- guiding it back towards the pedestal where the earrings await. The simple box, with the inelaborate studs… soon, the answers would be revealed. But did she really want them?

Their cotton enveloped hand began to caress her cheek, sending a wave of calm throughout her body.

“Oh, Cassandra… such a pretty darling. You’d like to know what’s so special about these?” They cooed, their normally charismatic voice turning lower and smoother- almost sultry… She nodded, her eyes fluttering under their careful ministrations- as if they were massaging her oh so wonderfully.

“You’re right about them. They’re so very special. One thing I’ve been working on for, well, years. My little personal project. They’re made with specific people in mind…” Her ears (and arousal) perked up slightly, but the soothing hands made sure it was only barely noticeable as she relaxed further.

“First, I do suppose a quick lesson in magic is required.” Their soft little titter revealed a delight in Cassandra she hadn’t thought was requited- but must have been all along.. The workshop entrance was right near them, and The Lady closed the door- hanging up their goggles carefully and continuing to explain.

“Magic requires power- the ability to mold the natural world… A focus or desire for that change… and some method to focus both power and desire into a physical good. A contract.” Some of this was purred delicately into Cassandra’s ear, and some was simply stated- as the hat slipped off and was put away on top of the goggles.

“We artificers simply adore making contracts-it’s much of the sparkle that helps each of us enjoy life. Having even just one minute of someone else’s life… access to their own imbued power, to their thoughts, their memories… I find it delectable.”

“So… I’m sure that you wish to draw up a contract… properly. Before you try them on, and for you to understand what they can do. I’ll ask for an hour, minimum of ten minutes…” Their moonlight skin had turned to a soft flushed rose now, having clearly… warmed up to Cassandra. This line of thoughts seemed to meander aimlessly, ending with a soft bump into the word ‘please’- whispered pleadingly to Cassandra.

She certainly was curious. Although her fears about artificers couldn’t be assuaged, The Lady certainly had an interest in her. Her mind was racing, risks thrown aside- filled with the new possibilities and the desire of pleasing someone who was interested in her rather than her family’s wealth or status. The ideas whirred in front of her-

Well, the lawyer would be available to draw up the contract. She’d be able to give just ten minutes… It could possibly endear her to The Lady, and it would be a way to get a free piece- which could be given off to another for disenchanting and selling… it, just in case. Presuming it didn’t do anything first. At the very least, she could talk to the lawyer alone.

And if… if the Lady did harbor certain unsavory desires for her, it might be… beneficial to get in- get out- and then use the money from the other artificer she found to disappear. See? There was definitely a way to escape. She’d be fine.

~~~~

Entering the lawyer’s office was strikingly different, as everything was simultaneously neatly organized and a sprawling jungle of paperwork. Cassandra was able to find it oddly relaxing- far enough away from the Lady Von-Quirandra to be immune from anything untoward, but close enough to still feel her influence on everything in the room. The finely crafted chairs, the softwood desk, the carefully stacked papers…

“So- I’m sure you understand the typical thoughts most clients have. Rest assured, you aren’t alone here- I’m also here to help. I’ve got some preliminary documents drawn up, although I’d need your help and name to complete them.” He was about six feet tall, making him just a bit shorter than The Lady (but larger, and certainly more mountainous than Cassandra). He had an awfully kind smile, and definitely seemed to be groomed daily in order to keep up appearances- the suit was certainly professional enough. However, her eyes were drawn to-

“Sir… your ears..!” Cassandra was quite surprised to find a pair of earrings in his ears, not quite matching the ones out there in the box- diamond shaped, but certainly of a much plainer material. It didn’t shimmer in the light, but still had the same design…

He shrugged this off with a chuckle, taking them out and showing them to her. “They’re quite plain, unlike the ones Milady has been working on. I requested the first prototype as payment for a rather unruly client.” Seeing them alone, with no box, made them feel so… Unremarkable. Tame, almost.

“I assure you, they are not enchanted in any way. Shall we get down to business now?” She nodded curtly, offering her name- which elicited a soft gasp from the lawyer, but did not pause his diligent writing. The D’Antonia name was still weighty enough to cause a dent- even though they’d fallen on harder times lately.

“Well, with that finished… How much time are you willing to give her? Would you like to give the full hour, or just the ten-minute minimum?” She paused, faltering…

“Sir… I still don’t know what it does.”

“I know.” His response was curt and quick.

“And that doesn’t seem odd to you?” Her eyebrows furled in shock, examining his haptics, trying to find any sign that she might be given a ‘free’ preview. One where she might not be risking anything.

“Of course not. It’s part of the guarantee- you won’t be able to share anything about the piece with Milady’s competitors if you walk away, and if you’re given an enforceable contract, you’ll have to abide by it. On the other hand, signing this contract will also protect Milady from anything untoward, as you can see from these paragraphs right here.” Well, he certainly was a good lawyer- she noticed those paragraphs, and her own family’s training told her that it was close enough to airtight for her safety…

“I see. So instead of a trial period, this contract is a trial period, and after the ten minutes, it will come off. Is that right?”

“Yes. If you’d like, we can draft up another contract for purchase when you’re done.”

“We’ll see.” She finished with the four-page document, taking the offered pen. “How is the time determined?”

“I’ve got the proper stopwatch right here, Ms. D’Antonia.” He pulled it out of his drawer, presenting her with a silver stopwatch- and she instantly noted the protective runes carved in it. Not only would it be protected from any magical interference, but it would undo any magical changes if it surpassed 30 seconds from the allotted time. And since there would be no way for either of them to mess with it… She turned it over in her hands before setting it down and sliding the contract under it.

“Are you ready, Ms. D’Antonia? The time will start when you exit the doorway.”

Cassandra’s signature and smug smile was enough to prove that she was. She’d find out about these mysterious earrings, and prove to herself that all the danger about artificers was nonsense. After all, she had this contract to protect her.

~~~~

The Lady met her right as she opened the door outwards, leaning against the pedestal they’d placed. Their smirk was much more graceful than before, although it still betrayed a particular interest in her.

“You haven’t left the doorway yet… Cassandra.~” Yet again, their words were a fluttering crescendo of affection.

“Well, ‘Milady’, you do have me ‘captive’ for ten minutes.” They cracked open the plain box, nodding… Their artificing gear was entirely gone, as well as the cotton gloves- allowing Cassandra a look at their face. It was rather smooth, with only a couple of wrinkled scars, as well as the common ‘forge-tan’… and yet it was so gorgeous Cassandra couldn’t help but look at it.

They brought the earrings forth, allowing Cassandra to examine them even more, but teasingly pulling them away at the last second. Only once she extended her fingers… finally touching the object of her intrigue, turning it over carefully. The earring backs seemed to be new, since she hadn’t been able to take it out previously, but she quickly found herself slipping them into one ear, and then the other.

That must have been what was so alluring about them, their simplicity…

Her foot involuntarily moved forward at the same time she heard a very loud CLICK in both ears. She felt the earring backs twist slightly, something fall to the ground…

and her thoughts vanished. Everything except what was directly in front of her faded, her mind shutting down instantly, only able to track what They.. no, Milady, was doing. The clack of Milady’s heels felt so dull, only picking up when something slipped from Milady’s lips.

“Cassandra? Are you still in there?” Their voice seemed almost… afraid. Had she been able to think properly, she would have known it was tinged with their concern and affection for her.

The response was a dry, dull, almost robotic “Yes, Milady.” Her head could not move an inch, she was so deeply and utterly enthralled.

“You’re not uncomfortable, are you?” And now this demanded the reverse- she wasn’t uncomfortable, which was the oddest thing to her. Everything in her body must have been stiff, and yet she felt as if she were laying on a fine cushion.

“Good. I… I would like you to tell me of yourself. Then, how you feel about… me. Artificers.” Milady looked exhausted, but so wonderfully happy- their eyes welled with tears from seeing their invention so perfected. They pulled up an ornate chair in front of her, listening attentively with their head perched atop one of their palms. They seemed so at ease… resting into the chair’s natural shape and the armrests to listen to their little subject.

“Where should… should…” This quickly brought out a gasp, and widened eyes from Milady-

“Is Cassandra unsure how to refer to herself at the moment, with the backs in place?” It seemed like they had some experience with this, then- perhaps only one other, though, given their tone and reactions.

“Yes Milady.”

“Cassandra ought to use the third person for now. Understood? Nod, please, then continue from the beginning- starting with how she’s feeling, and then when she entered the shop.”

A gentle nod from Cassandra’s head, along with an odd feeling- bliss… presumably from following Milady’s order. Is this what artificers did normally? Have the thralls talk to them? If she could have a consistent thought, she would have tried to hold onto that one, but it was pushed down into nothingness by the calming backs.

“Cassandra is unsure what she is experiencing. She is… feeling odd. Although she stopped in to examine the spectacle, she felt… drawn to these earrings. Curious about them. There was something special about them.” Her speaking paused, as she saw Milady holding up one finger.

“Cassandra, please speak normally. Although… just a hint like this. Nod if you understand, and continue.” She felt her vocal cords unlock with a curt nod, utterly freeing her except for one- mouth finally able to move at her own will… but there was still the lingering urge to simply say what she was directed to.

“Cassandra is now aware of what might be so special about them. They make Cassandra unable to think. Unable to disobey, Milady.” At least her speaking had returned to normal- but that thought, too, slipped down into the void.

“I… Would normal Cassandra… How does Cassandra feel about me?”

“Cassandra feels intrigued, interested, stimulated, a-“

“I meant… Does Cassandra like me?” Now Milady was easily blushing, covering their face slightly.

After a very slight pause… “Yes, Milady.” was uttered from her lips, much of the affection she still felt dripping from her words.

“Does… Cassandra know how I feel about her as well?” This was clearly said with a tinge of embarrassment, but curiosity had taken Milady over.

“Cassandra feels that… yes, Milady may perhaps like her. Especially now, like this.”

“O-oh. I see. The attention is, ah, requited. Good! I, ah, believe we’ll move on now…” Milady was covering their head with their hands, clearly turning a deeper flushed red. Had Cassandra been able to properly recall this later, she would have noticed that Milady had turned away from her vision and towards a clipboard to assist hiding their shame.

“Very well… increase vision to normal parameters-“ which meant she could see again, able to focus and look around normally, “standard head mobility as well, and increase thoughts to twenty percent.” She…

Cassandra was thinking. In front of an artificer.

“Kneel.”

Cassandra was kneeling and looking up at an artificer. The sheer danger of what she had done pumped through her veins, but she could not bring herself to move any more than turning away her head slightly- but she didn’t want to look away from the beautiful Lady Von Quirandra.

“Oh my, that feels much better… more domineering, don’t you think?” This brought out an electrified smile, one that she stared at, enraptured and terrified alike. Their hand reached out to tip up her chin with a giggle, stroking her cheek and calming her in the process.

“Please… I know you’re probably afraid, but I don’t wish you to be. I wanted you to experience… this.” It was certainly blissful, not to have to think. Not to be a noble. Not to occupy oneself with all these preconceived notions, manners, passions, etiquette that had to be followed every second of being –

“Cassandra.” That name again, the one that made her eyelids flutter from simply hearing The Lady Von Quirandra say it. However, her eyes had to be open again- so they were opened.

“Please increase thoughts to full. How are you feeling?”

“I… what the hell did you do to me?” She couldn’t help but ask this in the kindest way possible, filled with a curiosity and a wistful arousal- this thought a balloon, inflating with potential.

“The backs have a certain enthralling power. One to eliminate potential thought, even as it happens, to allow for someone to control the wearer entirely. What’s more, they keep their wearers nice and obedient.” The Lady almost said this a little lustily, clearly enjoying the moment- but also playfully and reassuringly… looking down straight into Cassandra’s hazel eyes.

“I hope you understand their power well, now. At the end of your time, you’ll make a decision. It may not be today, perhaps in a few days, or weeks. I hope that you’ll choose to become my.. ah, well… ‘apprentice’.” The Lady went back to covering their face and peeking out at the kneeling figure below them

Her face contorted in shock, stretching in disbelief- before snapping back to a central position. Apparently her shoulders were not allowed to move much, but her face and brain were still ‘allowed’ to move. An apprentice? To an artificer? She couldn’t believe the offer- not least of which for being one of the least qualified people on the planet, but also for the incredulity of it all.

“I understand that you might be a-“

“Your apprentice, Lady??? I don’t know the first thing about-!~”

“Hush, please. I don’t wish for Ashton to be disturbed.” Her jaw instantly slipped shut.

“And that’s not quite true- I taught you ‘the first thing about magic’, and really all you would need to know. I… I need someone acquainted with selling. It truly takes a toll on me to do these kinds of shows. I can’t always afford the… showmanship to get up and move every time that a lot of nobles say I ought to show off my work more.” They slumped further into the chair, clearly sulking.

“I’m skilled, as you can see, but… not there, in that kind of arena. I’d rather be sticking my head in the oil jar than trying to upsell a ring that I didn’t even put that much effort into.”

Throughout this rant, Cassandra could see the lines on their face- clearly an exhausted person, much like her family- trying to get by the best they could.

“…besides, it would be… more than that.” The Lady cleared their throat before continuing, leaving a hefty dramatic pause.

“You could be free from your family name.”

The impossible idea spread through her mind in stages. Relief from the D’Antonias’ strict rules, the imposed penny-pinching, the etiquette- then that she would be with someone. Of course, the idea settled back in of artificers, and much worse-

“And you would only have one restricted hour at most. Maybe two, if we both feel… intimate that night.” This was said in increasingly hushed tones, causing an outbreak of blushing on both of their parts.

“Are you… proposing??” The Lady squealed in shame, answering-

“O-oonly to be my… girlfriend! I don’t want you to get any ideas of that just yet, but… I think I’d like that as well… I could make us a pair of rings, later…”

The flustered D’Antonia heiress couldn’t help but keep opening and closing her mouth, flabbergasted by the idea that seemed

“Keep your mouth shut, dear. Just… think about it for when you’re done. Which is… hm, soon. Too soon…” The backs pulsed gently with enchanted power, and the carefully wound silver pocketwatch chimed with one minute left.

“Return to thrall mode, just for now- but keep the vocal modifiers.” She felt her thoughts be blasted into the wind again, her body relaxing even further, letting go of all the tension inside her…

“Just keep relaxing, little Cassandra… I want you to understand what this is like. How blissful this can be for you. How obedient you can be made. And that this is an offer unlike any other- one where I will use you, remold you, make you into a new beautiful piece- one worthy of your own name. No more silly D’Antonia to hold you back and keep you inside a gilded prison.”

The Lady seemed much calmer, maintaining that more dominant affect, but… if Cassandra were able to think, she’d know it was as if a heavy weight had been lifted from each of them. For the few seconds, they smiled and admired their thrall, four cheeks blushing in turn.

~~~~

The timer went off, returning Cassandra to her normal thoughts instantly- though it left her blushing as red as the first dress she’d ever worn to her family’s elegant ball. She rose, tentatively, under the gaze of The Lady. They slightly rose and-

It was just her instincts acting now, her base fear- and she ran out of the small corner shop into the rain. The thump of her heart pounding in her ears drove out the surprised shriek of the lawyer, the splash of mud against the cobblestone street, leaving behind only the knowledge of which street to take- left, right, center down the path here…

Cassandra arrived at the manor steps, and collapsed to her knees… a relentless sob had taken hold of her, tears and rain both streaking across her face.

Truth be told, she hadn’t realized she’d even stolen the backs until she’d taken them out of her ears, and yet- the urge to still treat them with care was there. All of this was happening so suddenly. There was so much that she just… didn’t know. Her own feelings were a jumble of butterflies, swirling and fluttering around inside…

She tried to sort them, to herd them- the way her mother had taught her, giving them all names and pretty colors, making them butterflies in her own mind-[herbarium].

But as soon as she’d plucked one out from the swirling horde, visualizing its soft iridescent wings, picturing the soft caress of Their glove again-

no.

Her legs crumpled weakly, pleading that no one would see her like this, so disheveled and undone by… the new shop.

She’d return to the shop tomorrow, return the backs, leave a note of thanks just to be… cordial enough, and just… flee. Run away somewhere. Get away from this ancient town and its horrid artificer.

The offer was just too good to be true.

~~~~

Some time later…

“Ah, hello, Missus Val-Periton! May I escort you to the back? Your pendant is ready.” Cassandra beamed happily at the couple that had strolled into the shop, her own earrings sparkling in the multitude of framed lights. The new verdant dress she strolled around the shop in was almost the shop’s mascot- with the new sign painted with a cartoonish version of it draped alongside the logo. Business was booming, especially since a familiar face could help ease the fears about artificers.

Her Lady Von Quirandra was placing the finishing touches on the precious pendant, and the couple was more than glad to finish paying- the pendant sparkled brilliantly in Her Lady’s hands. As the couple strolled out of the shop proudly, Her Lady gently brushed their hand against her cheek, repeating with the softest possible murmur the most precious words they both knew.

“You did so well for Me, Thrall Cassandra. I love you.” And with an idolizing sigh, Cassandra D’arvon Quirandra returned them.

fin

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canyouhearthelight · 4 years

Text

The Miys, Ch. 105

I’ve managed to get slightly ahead on these, so: A belated thank you to @littleshydragon, @dark-chocolat-cupcake, @overusedblur, and @allegrochicken for all the love I have seen blowing up my notes recently (I’m queuing this on Aug 25, even if it won’t post until Sept 8).

Also, to the 30 new followers who I have somehow acquired: Welcome! Ask box is always open, and I don’t get nearly enough of them. I love to interact with y’all, so don’t be afraid to ask me every little question you think of as you read. Anon is on if you feel you need that.

Other than that, thanks for this chapter goes out to @baelpenrose for beta reading. Also @quantumizedinsanity, @charlylimph-blog, @wildforestferret, @creakingcryptid, for the characters you gave me to play with in chapters like this.

Later that same ‘day’, I was forcefully reminded of Noah’s observation regarding human communication. Things were generally calm, and an impromptu family meal-snack-thing was happening in my quarters. Antoine had been over to visit, as he seemed to be making up for lost time caused by infiltrating Jokul’s accidental cult. Zach and Hannah were over, as well, so when dinner time rolled around, I just threw together some small po-boy sandwiches and banh mi for us to snack on while we kept visiting, rather than making a full meal.

Hey, I was allowed lazy days, too.

As it happened sometimes, conversation turned to things we either did or didn’t miss from Before. Tonight was very firmly in the ‘do not miss’ category.

“Plagues started by dumb experiments,” Maverick pointed out, smirking.

Catching on, Conor swatted him playfully. “I said I was sorry about that! And Else is an alright person, turns out.”

Snorting, Hannah covered her face with one hand. “Tell that to Nixe.”

“Her new tail is gorgeous,” I gushed. “If I got reparations like that, I’d at least consider forgiving someone.”

“For almost killing you?”

“It was an accident,” I brushed the comment off, reminded of explaining that gesture to Noah. “Besides, there are a lot of other things I genuinely don’t miss.”

“Aunt Flo,” Hannah intoned seriously.

“Tyche and I already did that one, so it’s not admissible,” I admonished. “But spoiled food? Do not miss.”

Zach shuddered. “Hell, that’s not even from Before. I don’t miss that at all.”

Antoine lifted his coffee in a mock-toast. “To all the people we lost to antibiotics.” After a few confused looks banded around the room, I laughed and waved at him to clarify. Rolling his eyes dramatically, he sighed. “Bread mold. This is why people died in the After of antibiotic allergies: they didn’t know it was derived from bread mold.”

“Dude, that’s dark,” Zach whispered.

Clearing his throat, Conor soldiered on. “I never lived through one, but wildfires were pretty bad, yeah?”

Nodding seriously, Maverick - who had lived on the western coast of NorthAm - added “Yeah, fuck THOSE things. Australia had it worse, but still.”

Raising her hand and waving it, Hannah started making eager noises to ask for her turn. “Absolutely idiotic job requirements, am I right?” Nods abounded, and she took the opportunity to vent the spleen I hadn’t even guessed her to possess. “The number of jobs I didn’t get because I didn’t have a degree were absurd. I don’t even know why they even required them, for some! I’m sure most of you had that happen.”

I kept my silence, but Conor was right behind her. “A Master’s in Engineering, to be a foreman. You’re babysitting a bunch of knuckleheads pounding rebar and pouring concrete! And they’ve had a decade of learning to do it right, I would’ve just been there to make sure it was compliant. And they wanted a Master’s for that!”

Hannah took a sip of her drink and nodded eagerly. “That’s what I’m talking about! There was a job I qualified for that was basically a glorified secretary… They wanted a four-year degree and paid peanuts. Absurd. But I was unemployed for way more of my life than I should have been, because I didn’t have that piece of paper.”

Idly, Zach stared at his drink. Like me, he had one of said-degrees, so this was something of a conversation we couldn’t really take part in. “I wonder how many Councillors we would have if those kind of requirements were put in place here.” Arching an eyebrow, he glanced up at me and inclined his head knowingly.

“Well,” I exhaled. “It depends. If they asked for a Master’s degree of any kind, I wouldn’t be a Councillor.” A thought struck me. “Hey - “

“No, Sophia, you cannot recommend that as a way to retire from the Council,” Antoine scolded with a laugh. “You would be grandfathered in with everyone else.”

The laughter broke the serious tone that had descended, and led to everyone speculating jovially, starting with Conor. “Well, we know Grey would still be a Councillor in that case - they admitted they had a PhD when Else was still getting sorted, rather than an MD.”

“Pretty sure Eino has a Master’s, at least,” Zach pointed.

Maverick shook his head, firmly disagreeing. “Doctorate in Education. I saw it on his wall. Don’t sell that one short.”

“So that’s two.” Hannah leaned forward eagerly. “Conor, what about Huynh?”

“Masters in Engineering,” he confirmed ruefully. “But he’s no PhD.”

“Pranav,” Zach interjected. “Post grad in robotics. Even worked on some of the Padrugoi mission stuff, early on.”

A respectful murmur filled the room, accompanied by appropriately impressed nods. Maverick had to actually shake the starstruck look out of his eyes before he could speak. “So that’s three PhDs, one Master’s, and a Bachelor’s on the Council. Not bad, honestly.”

Antoine cleared his throat politely. “Grey actually has two doctorates, if I am recalling correctly.”

I shook my head firmly. “Three. Biochemistry, genetics, and molecular chemistry.”

With a low whistle, Conor shook his head. “So, we have a clear leader as far as ‘most degrees on the Council’. Would Eino or Pranav be second, though?”

An argument erupted, and when it looked like Zach was about to say something, I shook my head. I knew the same thing he was about to point out, as a by-blow of fixing some of Derek’s more… enthusiastic shenanigans, but I wanted to see if anyone would figure it out or even question it. A solid half-hour later, Tyche arrived and scooped up a mini-sandwich before she even registered the conversation/argument taking place.

Whirling to face me, she pointed at the rest of the room and glared at me disdainfully. “Seriously? How long has this been going on?”

“Forty five minutes?” I admitted sheepishly. “Maybe an hour if you include the ‘what we don’t miss’ portion of the conversation. But ‘degrees on the Council’ has been at least forty five minutes.”

“And you said fuck all?”

I shrugged. “I know it’s not me who has the most or even second most. I have the least formal education of any Councillor.”

Tyche pinched the bridge of her nose and blew out a long breath. “Okay, everyone. What do you know so far?”

Without hesitation, Maverick rattled it off. “Grey has three doctorates, Eino has one and a Master’s, it turns out. Pranav has one doctorate and a Bachelor’s. Huynh has a Master’s, and Sophia has a Bachelor’s.”

“And the Councillor you have left out?” she interrogated wearily, while Zach and I tried to restrain our laughter.

“Xiomara?” he asked, face scrunched in confusion. “She was career military, but I don’t know if she has any degrees. Maybe a Bachelor’s?”

Tyche shook her head, glaring again when I started gasping for breath. “Wrong. And you know what? Soph knew this, so I’m going to make her tell all of you. Like she should have. From the beginning.”

“Hey!” I cried, still giggling. “I was giving them a whole other 5 minutes before I broke the news. I just wanted to see if they would even question their reasoning.” Antoine’s eyes got wide, sending me into another giggling fit. “None of you even mentioned the idea of Xiomara having any degree,” I gasped, almost in hysterics. “Mav was in the military, so I get that he just assumed she was busy as fuck, but… et tu, everyone?”

Hannah’s head turned slowly to stare down Zach. In self defense, he held up both hands with one pointing at me. “She told me not to say anything.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I did!”

Carefully, Conor slowly asked the question that was on everyone else’s minds. “Sophie? What’s so funny?”

Tears were pouring down my face at this point - not because I thought the situation was funny, because it wasn’t. Not really. I was hysterical because I was so caught off guard that we still brought something like this with us. “I don’t know the real reason why nobody considered Xiomara, and I’m scared to ask at this point. I’m hoping it’s because she looks tough as hell and like the kind of person who would beat up highly educated people rather than be one.” Wiping a tear from my face, I glanced at Tyche. Her jaw was tight, clearly thinking the same things I was. “But the fact that she is the only other woman on the Council, that hurts, honestly.”

I took a few deep breaths to compose myself. “The fact is, Xiomara has five degrees. Five. Along with her military career. Tyche and I have to know this, since we handle staffing.” Counting on my fingers, I started ticking them off. “Two doctorates, one in international law and one in experimental economics - as in, yes, the calorie economy was her idea. A Master’s in military history, along with two Bachelor’s degrees: one in experimental chemistry and one in nuclear physics.” Shaking my head, I glanced at the shocked and guilty expressions in the room. “It isn’t three PhDs, but damn, y’all. The woman has five degrees!”

“How did she do that, and a military career, so young?” Maverick asked, his tone nothing but awed.

Antoine looked confused at the question. “My friend, how old do you think Xiomara is?”

He shrugged. “Sophie’s age? So, thirtyish?”

Conor poked him. “Mav. You know how old Sophie is.”

Maverick rolled his eyes. “Fine. So maybe forty? The whole healing stuff messes with me, I’ll be honest.”

Smiling, I cut him some slack. “Xiomara is just over ten years older than me,” I clarified.

Hannah’s eyes widened, and Zach looked like he had been punched in the gut. “So hot-scary-lady is fifty?” After Tyche and I nodded, he shook his head. “That’s still super-impressive for fifty. For seventy, even!” Zach shook his head. “Grey, I could understand. They seem like the type to just live for education, you know? But, Xio? I’ve known for a year and I still get dizzy thinking about it.”

“It does explain why she’s so intimidating,” Conor pointed out. When I opened my mouth to scold him, he held up one hand. “No! No. Doctorates have to be argued and defended, right? Plus one of those is in law. And she balanced a military career on top of all that. If I accomplished all that, people would look at me with respect and expect me to be a direct, take-no-prisoners kind of person.” He glanced at Antoine, who winced and nodded in confirmation.

“She isn’t though,” I complained. “She’s a leader.”

“Definitely not ruthless, but she is intimidating to the general population,” Hannah pointed out gently. “That’s part of what Jokul was talking about, right? The Ark, as a whole, doesn’t get to see her get excited over her favorite foods, or pictures of baby pandas, or…. Cherries? Is it cherries she’s crazy for?”

“Pomegranate,” I corrected, begrudgingly.

“Pomegranate,” Hannah asserted. “They don’t get to see that. They get to see ‘hot-scary-lady who lays down the law’. Not ‘Xiomara who gets googly eyed when Parvati Fletcher wears that one violet shirt’.”

“Or hates plantains,” Tyche pointed out. “Which never made sense to me, because fried plantains are basically dessert with dinner.”

I started to giggle a bit. “It makes even less sense when you’ve seen her order coffee.” Tyche groaned, but more confused looks bounded about the room. Full out laughing, I explained. “She… she puts… maybe three ounces of coffee? Not espresso, just regular coffee… with what looks like a gallon - “ I snorted so hard it hurt my nose, but couldn’t stop. “Of milk! And sugar! Oh gods, she must put a cup of sugar in her coffee, I swear!”

Hannah and Zach exchanged glances, as did Conor and Maverick. Within seconds, the entire room erupted in laughter. “That?” Conor gasped. “That is hilarious….”

“I...I always thought… she took her coffee blacker than sin….” Zach wheezed. “And baby pandas?”

Sobering suddenly, I straightened and glared at the entire room. “OI!” I shouted. “Baby pandas are fucking cute, and if you don’t think so, you aren’t human, and I will ask Noah to do genetic testing to prove that.”

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#the miys #science fiction #humans are weird #found family #humans are space orcs #earth is space australia #aliens #apocalypse #found family tropes #hfy #humans are awesome #humans are space fae

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cozy-the-overlord · 4 years

Text

Until Tomorrow

Summary: Quarantine by itself is lonely enough. Quarantine amidst a rainstorm of biblical proportions is downright depressing. Lucky for you, a visitor arrives just in time to keep you company.

Word Count: 2,463

Pairing: Loki x Reader

A/N: Sooo..... I did a thing. I’ve never written fanfiction or reader-inserts before, but it was pouring rain last night and I’ve been reading so many quarantine fics on Ao3 that I thought I’d give it a whirl. I’ve never been more nervous about posting a story before... I hope you like it!

Also, I got an Ao3 account now, so you can read it here if you’d like

It was raining.

Although raining didn’t seem to do the weather justice. You couldn’t remember the last time you had witnessed such a torrential downpour. The pattering of raindrops rushing down your slanted roof had been drowned out by the wooshing of the fast-moving river that a few hours ago had been your street. Between the dark storm clouds and fog so thick you could cut it with a knife, you couldn’t make out exactly how bad the road was, but the waves that crashed against your window every time a car came skidding past your house told you that you weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Not that you currently had any great travel plans.

You sat on the couch at your front window, a book lying open and ignored in your lap, watching water droplets race down the glass as a shiver raced down your spine. Usually, you loved the rain. You had grown where storms were a treasured rarity, where you’d insist your mother buy you rainboots for your birthday only for her to give them away a year later when they became too small, balls of paper still stuffed into their toes. Usually, when it poured, you’d run into your driveway with your head back and arms out, belting out “Singin’ in the Rain” as you attempted dance moves that would make Gene Kelly role in his grave, just because you could.

But today, you didn’t feel like dancing. With everything going on right now, the rain seemed less like a cause for celebration and more like a sign of impending doom. It had been weeks since you left the sanctuary of your tiny suburban house. You were lucky, everything considered— your parents were safely quarantined in your childhood home on the other side of the country, from where they FaceTimed with you at least once a day.

Your job was secure. That was one of the wonderful things about working for Tony Stark: the day everyone was sent home, the head man himself sent out an email swearing to keep everyone on the payroll through the quarantine, regardless of how long it lasted. He had even set up a system for delivering groceries to his employees: you texted a number with your order, and a few hours later a red and gold drone dumped a box of overflowing plastic bags on your doorstep. That was something your mom couldn’t get over—Iron Man bringing you milk!— and honestly the ridiculousness of it all made you want to giggle, too.

Sometimes, though, it was all too much. It had been ages since you’d seen anybody, ages since you had heard another voice unfiltered by the garbled speaker of your cell phone. You had never considered yourself to be an overtly social person, but damn did you wish you had somebody here to talk to. Your mother had been trying for years to convince you to adopt a pet, insisting that it wasn’t healthy for you to be living completely alone, but you had always brushed her off, saying that you were working so often that you were rarely at home and it would be cruel to the animal. Now, you promised yourself that as soon as this was over, you were heading to the Humane Society.

If this was ever over.

Outside, the rain kept pouring. The trickling water seemed to be whispering to you—sinister promises of something worse yet to come. You curled tighter upon yourself, pressing your cheek to your knees.

Let this end. Please, just let this end.

A crash behind you startled you out of your thoughts. You shrieked, whipping around to see a figure standing in your living room, soaking bags sprawled about him, staining the carpet. He scowled.

“Bloody rainstorm. You can’t see a damn thing out there.” He shook his head and began wringing out his hair, muttering in a language you didn’t understand.

It was several moments before you could find your voice. Once you did, it slipped out cautiously. “Loki?”

“At your service, my lady.” He gave a grand bow, his words dripping with sarcasm.

You stared. You knew Loki, of course. You were familiar with all of the Avengers who lived in the tower—your office was located on one of the higher levels, and as a result it wasn’t uncommon to see celebrities like Dr. Banner or Captain Rodgers making their way across the floor to meet with one of your coworkers. Unlike the others, however, you had actually spoken with Loki.

The two of you had a little run in a few months ago, when you were refilling your coffee mug at the break room. You were already on edge because Dr. Foster was visiting, Dr. Jane Foster, and word about the floor was that she would be stopping by with Thor to meet some of the higher-level workers at some point during the day. You felt silly for feeling so starstruck, but Dr. Foster’s work was on another level of world-shattering, and the thought that you might be shaking her hand by the end of the day had you all sorts of jittery.

Then the coffee pot exploded.

Exploded wasn’t exactly the right word. It was more like an eruption— all at once the pitcher just vomited its contents across the counter, up to the ceiling, all over the floor, writing like an animal and spitting out more coffee than it possibly could’ve been holding previously. With a scream, you threw the anthropomorphic pot to the floor, adding shattered glass to the absolute mess in the break room.

There wasn’t time to comprehend what just happened before he was there, pulling you out of the puddle of lukewarm coffee.

“Forgive me, that was not supposed to happen. Are you hurt?” Loki scanned your form with an anxious sort of urgency. There was a tinge of pink on his cheeks—if you hadn’t known better, you would’ve said he was blushing. “Are you hurt?” he asked again when you only gaped at him like a dead fish. “Burned? That was not meant—forgive me.”

“No,” you finally said. The coffee hadn’t been warm enough to do any damage. “Just… my clothes—”

He waved his hand, and the sticky moisture clinging to your front disappeared. You ran your hand over your shirt, now dry and stainless. That’s useful.

“Are you certain you are uninjured?” he asked. “I swear, that was not what I intended—”

“I’m fine.” Now that the shock had worn off, you found yourself stifling the urge to giggle. “What were you trying to do?”

Loki looked embarrassed. “My brother has the tendency of laying claim to the refreshments of any floor he visits, without leaving anything for those working on said floors. I thought I’d teach him a lesson.” He cast a glance back at the mess behind him. “The charm was meant only to react to him. I suppose I made a mistake in casting it.” He turned back to you. “I am sorry.”

You smiled. “It’s alright. I guess I could use a bit of excitement in my life.”

He grinned. “Words to live by.”

After that, you had been friendly. You’d greet each other when you walked by one another, you’d make small talk in the elevator if you were riding together, he’d hold the door for you if he had the chance. Nothing serious, nothing even that personal really, just office-friendly.

Definitely not crashing-unannounced-into-your-living-room-during-a-rainstorm-in-the-middle-of-a-pandemic friendly.

“What—?” you sputtered, springing off the couch. “What are you doing here?”

Loki dramatically gestured to the bags on the floor. “It seems I have been relegated to the status of a delivery boy.”

Craning your neck, you recognized the label of your local grocery market. You frowned. “Did—did you bring me groceries?”

The Asgardian in your living room huffed irritably. “You had an order for today, did you not?”

You nodded slowly. Yes, you were waiting on an order today, and now that you were looking you could see that it was sprawled across the floor at Loki’s feet: a carton of orange juice, a tub of ice cream, a bag of potato chips… but what was Loki doing dropping off food for you?

He sighed. “Stark, in his infinite wisdom, failed to consider the effect of such the elements—” he gestured to the monsoon outside your window “—on his mechanical messengers. As I am the only individual he knows with means of instantaneous travel, I have been encouraged to assist with deliveries. I am—what is the phrase?—making the rounds, if you will. ”

“Oh.” You found yourself at a loss for words, likely looking every bit as dumbfounded as when you first met in the break room. You mentally slapped yourself. “Um… thank you. Here,” you moved to collect to foodstuff off the carpet, “I can, uh, start putting things away—”

With one swift motion, Loki scooped everything up. “Allow me. Just tell me where you want me to put it.” You glanced up at him cautiously. He raised his eyebrows.

“Uh, okay.”

He followed you into your kitchen, and you cringed as you realized how truly disgusting your sink was. It had been ages since you had the motivation to do the dishes, and they had been piling up in your sink like the leaning tower of cheap ceramics for at least a week now. Loki didn’t say anything though. At your direction, he placed the bags on the counter and watched as you silently put the contents away.

Even amidst all the awkwardness, there was something soothing about his presence. For the first time in weeks, there was a living, breathing person in your house, someone real to talk to and laugh with. So when Loki said that he had to finish his deliveries, the question that popped out of your mouth was birthed by pure desperation.

“Do you want something to drink before you go?” you asked. “Like, a glass of water? Or… I have coffee, if you don’t mind it being reheated.”

If Loki was surprised by your offer, he masked the emotion quickly with a smirk. “Do you really trust me with coffee?”

You giggled. “I don’t know. Can I?”

“You shouldn’t trust me with anything,” he said, slipping into one of the seats at your kitchen table. “But I think we can make an exception just this once.”

You sat and talked for nearly an hour, sipping your microwaved coffee as the rain pounded on the roof. Loki had plenty of quarantine stories from the Tower, stories that always seemed to end with Thor accidentally blowing something up.

“He is not used to staying in such a limited space for this long of a time period,” he said reflectively. “I think perhaps confinement is having a detrimental effect on his intellect. Stark has installed a ‘Days Without an Accident’ count at the kitchen table, and thus far my brother has managed to reset it every day.”

You snorted. “That sounds hilarious. I wish I was there to see that.”

“No, you don’t. Everyone is fed up with everyone else.” Loki stared into his mug absently. “They have been starting altercations over the minutest details. It’s quite chaotic.”

You frowned. “Aren’t you supposed to like chaos?”

“When it’s within my control. This is far beyond that.” He took another sip, emptying it. “You are lucky to live alone. I would gladly welcome the peace you have here.”

“I don’t know. There’s not much to do in here.” You held in a sigh. “It gets kind of depressing after a while.”

Loki cocked his head, brow furrowed. “You are lonely?”

Your cheeks heated with embarrassment. It was such a menial complaint to have, especially when so many others were suffering. “Kind of,” you muttered. “It’s not so bad, though.”

Loki continued pressing. “You have access to communication, yes?” he asked, leaning forward. “I thought all of you mortals were addicted to your cellular devices.”

“Yeah,” you replied slowly. “But it’s not the same thing as, you know, actually talking to someone. Like, when they’re actually there.”

“I understand.” He reached out to set his mug on the table. Somewhere hidden under your smile, your heart sank. He’d be leaving soon.

Loki cleared his throat. “If you would like,” he said, “I could pay you a visit every so often, as we are doing now.”

What?

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” you rushed to say, even though the thought of having a regular visitor sent your pulse thrumming.

“No, but I think I would appreciate the respite. Today has been quite lovely, if I may say so.” He smiled— a genuine smile, not a smirk or a grin—and you felt rather silly for the way your heart seemed to soar. “Of course,” he added quickly, “if you don’t wish for my company, I completely—”

“No!” The volume of your voice made you cringe. Jeez, he must think you haven’t spoken to anyone in months. “No, I—if you want to come over, then…” For a moment, you fumbled with your words, searching for an eloquent way to accept his offer. “I’d like that,” you finally said, giving up. “I’d like that a lot.”

He laughed. “In that case, I’ll stop by tomorrow.” When he stood, you stood with him, following him back to your living room where he had left the groceries you hadn’t claimed. “I do need to be going now, though,” he said, scooping up the remaining bags. “The last thing I need is Stark having a fit over my failure to deliver his employees’ groceries on time.” He nodded at you. “Thank you very much for the coffee.”

“No problem,” you said. “Thanks for—thanks.”

He chuckled. “Until tomorrow, my lady.”

“Until tomorrow.”

And just like that, he was gone. It was a noiseless disappearance: one moment he was there, the next, you were once again alone with the pouring rain. With a sigh, you made your way back to the couch, scooping up your book off the floor. Once again, however, you found your attention drifting to the water running down the window, the rushing waves of your street outside. Nothing had changed, and yet it seemed so much less frightening than it had an hour before. No, now, it was almost soothing. You had the sudden urge to run out on to your driveway and belt “Singin’ In the Rain.”

I should’ve done that while Loki was here, you thought sleepily, pressing your cheek to the cushion. He would’ve gotten a kick out of that.

Maybe you could, if it was still raining tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

You dozed off to the peaceful lullaby of the rainfall, smiling softly and thinking of tomorrow.

#loki oneshot #loki fanfic #loki x reader #loki marvel #loki laufeyson #cozy writes

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artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

A Road to Somewhere, Chapter 3 (Adore Delaska) - Puppy

Chapter Summary: Adore meets up with the infamous Grand Witch and finally gets that job! But at what costs?

A/N: Happy belated Halloween and Samhain to all who celebrate. It’s Halloween when I’m submitting this my time, but it’ll be November when it gets posted. I figured the sentiment was still nice. Anyway, I figured a good thing to ring in the holiday was yet another story of spirits and witches.

This chapter is surprisingly longer than I thought it was going to be, but it was still nice to write. Thanks again to @chaoticnachokitten and @thackeryisatop for beta-ing.

I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 3

TW: emotional abuse.

Adore found herself in a smaller storage room; it was probably a loading dock in the past. She passed by a small sink with a towel on a hanger. It was probably Raja’s whenever they decided to leave their post. Wrapped boxes and jars still had tags on them, and there were a few planks of wood and coils of rope neatly placed nearby. She didn’t have much time to take everything in though; there was somewhere she needed to be sooner than later.

Rio knew what she was doing; she looked like she went through this route for years. “The Grand Witch lives way up at the top, in the back of the house.” She said, beckoning the human to follow her down this path.

Following suit, she was led to an entrance marked by large moving gears. Adore looked up, admiring the mechanisms for a short second. There was a myriad of pulley systems, presumably enchanted as well, that made her severely underestimate how tall and large the bathhouse really was. It seemed endless, but perhaps that was the point. Not everyone could visit a witch who claimed to have such high esteem. Two elevators moved along the wires: two metal cabinets labelled on the outside. She didn’t have too much time to wonder about that, though.

“Get over here! We don’t have all night.”

“Coming!” Adore shook herself out of her state of awe and ran into another elevator where her guide was. It was a smaller wooden lift that didn’t have a door or proper walls, but it was made up for it being surrounded mainly by stone. There wasn’t any risk of her falling out any time soon. The redhead clung to the back wall (more like the back piece of plywood, if she could be more accurate), staring as it went farther up the bathhouse.

“You wanna lose your nose, kid?” She was pulled back by Rio’s forceful grip, and she thus threw her arms around the older spirit. “Hey, what are you doing?!“ Rio questioned.

"Aaaah! Sorry,” Adore answered, backing away from the older woman.

The elevator passed through many floors, and the human couldn’t keep track of what was going on on each one. They all reeked of opulence; this witch practically owned everything. The railings and beams supporting the house were made of cherry red wood with ornate gold carvings. The hardwood floors were barely even noticeable from the amount of workers who were there. She could never really tell how many of them were on said floor since they all blurred together. Some were carrying trays of food, or were they herbal soaks? Maybe some were pushing a dolly of some substance. The world was passing right before her eyes; plus her view was partly obscured by Rio’s body, hiding her from any suspicion.

The lift eventually stopped, letting Rio and Adore off on a higher floor. They faced a hallway of painted floral walls. Empty woven containers rested on yet another wall; they almost looked like birdhouses, but could easily be taken apart to build a nest of sorts. Above the walls, were small golden plates, also painted with flower arrangements. This witch must really like her flowers, Adore pondered as she started skipping on the hardwood. She didn’t have time to take in every little detail; hopefully her new motions would make her go faster. The loudest sounds the two could hear were their own footsteps. “So…” she attempted to start some conversation, “how long have you been here?”

“Hell if I know.” Rio continued, wanting to bash her head into one of those walls. Being part of an escort mission was the last thing she wanted to do today. “And watch your volume. The point of this is not to get discovered, remember?”

The human covered her mouth for a bit as they passed by chefs in dark, cone shaped hats and face masks preparing a kind of banquet. Some ladled soup into small red bowls while others placed cherry tomatoes in black bowls. There were off-handed comments and complaints about how it wasn’t spicy enough or how it was going to get cold before they could serve it. Adore nearly wanted to dive into the buffet for whatever she liked, but she found herself turning the corner and into yet another elevator. Thankfully, they were able to make it in before it closed, and before the woman who exited noticed their presence.

“We’re about halfway there. Just… stay close, y’hear?” The woman with the raccoon-like eyes pulled down a lever and up they went.

“Uh… party.” She smiled awkwardly and retreated to the back of the lift. This elevator was a little different as one part of the back wall wasn’t solid stone. It acted as a window to another part of the house. It looked like a series of tubs with guests destressing in its waters, but she couldn’t make out many details. Her vision was shrouded with a blanket of steam. Before she could take in anything more, the elevator stopped on another floor. The two of them were not as lucky this time.

A rather large patron was standing in front of them. From further inspection, he seemed furry with two large tusk-like appendages dangling from his face.The only articles of clothing that it wore were a large red bowl for a hat and an equally red loincloth on his torso. He looked at the worker and the invasive human pensively. Rio’s face grimaced at the sight of another spirit who desired to use the lift.

“Welcome…” Rio gasped and forced a toothy smile on her face as Adore slinked behind her. “What can I do for you?” The radish spirit didn’t really respond; he grumbled as he slowly pointed a finger upwards. “I’m sorry, sir. This elevator is out of service. Can’t go any higher. Have to take another one.” She maintained that smile as she walked out of the elevator. As soon she couldn’t see the spirit, her smile dropped. “Glad that’s taken care of,” she whispered when she was out of earshot. As they continued on, Adore swore she heard footsteps, but didn’t want to say anything just yet.

The two made their way onto an arched bridge, and it was then the redhead was starstruck by the interior of the bathhouse. The floral patterning was not confined to that one hallway, as it seemed to decorate many other parts of that floor. She looked down, getting a better glimpse of what she saw on the elevator ride. There definitely was a series of tubs, and she could make out some of the figures on that bottom floor.

The ducks from earlier fit in one of the larger tubs, but there were more than she had seen before. Did they multiply like gremlins? Never mind that; there were more interesting sights than large ducks overflowing a pool. A worker in a blue kimono gave an antlered spirit a massage, while two others were filing some oblong entity’s nails. They massaged and pampered these creatures to their heart’s content.

As soon as the two stepped off the bridge, the two women turned a corner. Adore looked back, the radish spirit leering back at them from where they just left. “Rio, I think he’s following us…” She whispered, pulling at Rio’s free arm.

“Quit gawking. It’s rude.”

The human quickly whipped her head back forward and sooner than later they found themselves in front of an elevator. Rio pressed the button as Adore squished herself between the corner and the spirit in front of her. The radish spirit finally caught up to them, staring at the door in earnest; his undulating chest directly in Rio’s line of sight. Anyone around him could hear his breathing. She closed her eyes and turned her head the other way. Unfortunately, she didn’t have much time to rest. The elevator doors opened, but it wasn’t full, much to her surprise.

Three monsters in fluffy white bathrobes stepped out of the elevator with a frog-like worker following behind them, escorting them to their rooms. He wore a white and blue version of what Rio was wearing and was about as tall as her too. The frogman stopped his conversation, sniffing his nose as he turned around looking his coworker dead in the eyes. “Rio!” He barked.

Surprised, and annoyed at being discovered, she pushed Adore into the elevator and plastered that retail smile back on her face. “What is it?” she asked through gritted teeth. The radish spirit followed the young girl into the elevator, clearly not aware of her existence. Or perhaps he was and he refused to say anything about the intruder’s presence.

“What’s that smell?” The frogman sniffed his nose again and widened his eyes, “Aha! A human! You reek of human!” Adore turned her head and sniffed herself; was her odor that strong? Yes, she hadn’t showered since the morning, but not everyone needed to point it out.

“Never would have guessed.” Rio retorted.

“You’re hiding something, aren’t you? Come on! Spill!”

The woman reached into her pocket and pulled out the newt Raja had given her. “Is this what you’re looking for?” She dangled it in front of his face.

The frog’s mouth watered at the sight of it, moaning out of hunger. “Give me that!”

His attempt was thwarted by Rio pulling it out of his grasp. “Well, I was gonna share this with the other girls. But since you asked so nicely…”

“Please? At least a leg! Just a leg will do!”

She kept pulling the newt farther and farther away, sometimes shifting her position to get it out of the man’s grasp. “If you wanna go up,” Rio instructed, “just pull the lever on the right.” Adore gave a thumbs up from her currently cramped state and managed to pull the lever from the ends of her fingertips. The last thing she saw before the doors finally closed was her guide popping the roasted lizard into her mouth, as one final act of spite.

The elevator ride was a little uncomfortable; one could easily cut the awkward tension with a butterknife. Adore took it upon herself to study more of her companion’s appearance. He had curly green hair… or was it leaves. He was called the “radish spirit”, so was he one? Or did he just look like one. Hell, this isn’t the strangest shit I’ve seen today… She pondered as she stopped herself from paying attention to the radish spirit’s dad bod.

The first floor the lift stopped at wasn’t the floor she needed to be. It was mostly empty hallways with pairs of sandals neatly decorating the hardwood. There were many shadows behind a series of patterned changing screens. Was this some sort of sleeping arrangements? Before Adore could think about exploring the place, the radish spirit realized this wasn’t the floor he was looking for, pulling the lever yet again. The human huffed a complaint. On the other hand, there wasn’t any time to explore; she had somewhere important to be.

After the awkward detour, the elevator finally stopped at the first floor. They both stepped out and scanned the area. If the scenery of the bathhouse didn’t stun her enough, then this top floor definitely did. This floor screamed wealth and was even more opulent than the floors she traversed earlier. Instead of the hardwood, the two were standing on some sort of marble with other colored tiles neatly placed in pretty patterns. Surrounding the middle sat large expensive vases accentuated by architecture embossed with more floral patterns. Adore let out a breath she never realized she held as her widened eyes soaked in all of the intricacies. The radish spirit stepped back into the elevator, bowing to her before the doors closed.

She quickly bowed back and was alone yet again. She wearily walked down the hall, her breath loud and her shoulders practically to her ears. The girl nearly flinched as she heard the echoes of her own footsteps. I should have asked Lask before this shit happened… she thought, playing with her sleeves. This needed to be over with soon. How hard could getting a job be? She stopped at a small staircase and looked up.

Two bright red doors stood before her underneath a bird-like crest embossed with the symbol she saw earlier that day. There was something off about the right door, though. As she approached that door, she took careful watch of the knocker. It was engraved with the face of a woman, but not just any woman. She seemed to be the bird woman who patrolled when she first met Lask. Come to think of it, the crest looked vaguely familiar too, but that had to be a coincidence. Adore grabbed the handle and started to pull, but she was quickly stopped by an unseen voice.

“Well, aren’t you going to knock?”

She flinched back as if she had just touched a hot iron.

“Gods, you’re honestly the most pathetic thing I’ve seen all day!” The voice continued. She sounded mature for her age. Was that the Grand Witch she had been looking for? After insulting the human, whoever was speaking must have made a decision to pity her. The door opened by itself, revealing more doors that opened in sync. The hallway that stood before Adore was fascinating. There was a small chandelier in every little intersection, like every hallway in front of her had been Xeroxed multiple times. “Don’t be shy, you can come in.”

No matter how inviting the woman sounded, the human was still starstruck. She shook and clung to her shirt, but not out of fear. Or at least that was what Adore wanted to believe. She was thirteen; she shouldn’t be afraid of things anymore, or at least things as silly as a jumpscare.

“I said, come IN.” Adore felt something slowly tugging at the front of her shirt. She pulled back, but she stopped for a bit. The tugging quickly came back, grabbing at the collar and yanking her down the hallway at an impeccable speed, about the same speed when she tripped on the stairs. Doors seemed to close as soon as she entered them, and as soon as there weren’t any more doors, the force sharply turned its subject around the corner. She barely had any time to take in any more intricate patterns. For all she knew, she was floating across a sea of garnet and gold. The invisible grip let her go as soon as she went through a last set of doors, throwing her down and letting her fall face first into the patterned red carpet.

Sitting herself back up, the human caught her breath, tempted to hop on one of the two plush red armchairs that surrounded her. The fireplace crackled, causing Adore to jump a little bit. She looked around the room a little more until she caught the gaze of a woman working at her desk. If she was the Grand Witch Visage, she wasn’t like anything the girl was expecting. The woman was a lot younger than she first expected, but not too young. She seemed practically old enough to be her mother… or at least a mother. She had well-defined cheekbones and a sharp chin. Her dark hair was up in a tight bun, while the top of her chest practically spilled out of her dress as she was working on some sort of paperwork. Her bony fingers picked up the pen and continued her writing. “Oh good, you didn’t break anything,” she barely noticed the human in front of her. Then again, the room always had a thin layer of smoke surrounding everything. “That’s more than I expected from you.”

The human brushed off her shorts and cautiously approached the woman. “Hey…umm… Please give me a job.” The witch simply stared at her for a split second, then returned to her work. With every movement of the pen, she felt something strange. Adore attempted to speak again, but as soon as she took a breath, her mouth was slowly closing, like some invisible seamstress sewed her lips together. Upon that realization, she quickly panicked, trying to force her mouth back open with as much force her fingers could allow, but it was merely in vain. Brute strength was nothing against a witch’s spell.

“There… much better,” Michelle smirked, continuing her work and avoiding eye contact with the shaken human. “You open your mouth for one second and you’ve already said too much. Especially with that request of yours. Get you a job… This isn’t the place for a human. This is a bathhouse, where eight million spirits can rest their bones.” She placed a small bag of gold in a coin box with her free hand as she continued her rant. The witch stopped for a moment and set her pen down, picking up a long cigarette in its holder instead. She twiddled it around, clinking with the many rings adorning her fingers. She then stopped and stared directly at Adore. “Your mother had some nerve, didn’t she?”

Adore’s brow furrowed; anger started coming to her in a slow boil. If circumstances were normal, she would be throwing a punch towards the woman’s direction, or she’d pull out a knife. However, all she could do was just stand there and take this beatdown.

“Now my customers are hungry and it’s all her fault. It’s a good thing in time that she’ll be next on the menu.” Michelle continued, her voice dripping with venomous honey. “Wait a second,” she lit the cigarette with her fingers and took a drag , blowing some smoke in the human’s general direction. “It’s not entirely her fault… It was yours!” Her jaw would have been on the floor by now. “You could’ve stopped her. You could have even avoided entering this realm… but you didn’t. And now you can’t go home! Now what do you have to say about that?”

As expected, there was only muffled nonsense coming from the human’s mouth. Adore was practically shaking at this point: mostly out of fear and panic. Neither of them could have known that this land was sacred. Logically, it couldn’t be her fault, but why was she believing it? Was that… monster just that persuasive?

“Just as I thought…” She tapped at the holder, a few ashes piled onto the table. “You’d make a good piglet. It fits with that body of yours… or maybe a lump of coal. That way you’ll be useful for once…” The Grand Witch laughed seeing the human’s now frazzled state, blowing another cloud of smoke. “You’re trembling… Actually, I’m impressed you made it this far,” she spoke with a twinge of sincerity, “but I know you couldn’t have done it alone. Someone had to have helped you.” She slowed down her speech slightly as if she was talking down to a child. Then again, for all she knew Adore could have been a young child; Michelle stopped caring about age a long time ago.“All… you have.. to do… is tell me… who… it… was….”

Adore let out a heavy breath when the witch finally broke the enchantment on her lips. She balled her fists. “I just want a job here.”

“Again with this, aren’t you done with th-”

“PLEASE! I JUST WANT A FUCKIN’ JOB, GODDAMMIT!”

“SHUT UP!” This angered the witch further as the pile of paperwork began to flutter around her as she tensed up. Shortly afterwards, she shot herself into the air and knocked her things off the desk. Michelle Visage landed directly in front of Adore, intimidating the teen. She forced her to make eye contact, towering her body over her. “Why should I hire you?! Anybody with half a brain can see that you’re a whiny, foul-mouthed, lazy, spoiled crybaby. And stupid to boot.” Her long nails dug into the girl’s chest with every insult. “There’s nothing here for you. This is a HIGH CLASS business, and I have all the lazy bums I need.” She then moved behind the frightened woman. “Or maybe… you’d like the nastiest job I’ve got, and work

you until you breathe your very last breath. How does that sound?” The witch asked, walking her fingers along Adore’s arm until they reached her neck. As she was about to apply more pressure, the room began to violently shake.

The contents of her desk, plus a candelabra atop the fireplace, crashed onto the carpet. Michelle stopped and stood back as she heard the cries of a child from within the room. Momentarily forgetting about the human nuisance, she rushed to the other side where she was met by splinters from the door nearing her face. “Stop that,” her voice showed genuine concern and passion as she poked her head in through the door hole. “What’s the matter, baby?” She was met with a large foot kicking her face. Chunks of green painted wood ended up in her bun. “It’s okay… Mama’s here…” After attending to her child’s needs, she turned back to the human, her demeanor turning 180 degrees. “What are you still doing? Can’t you tell this is a private moment?”

“YES, BUT I WANT A JOB. IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK FOR?” Adore yelled over the various other sounds in the room.

“Be quiet! You’re scaring the baby!” She turned back towards her child, continuing her baby voice. “Hi, sweetie. She’ll be gone soon enough. Don’t be mad.

“I’ll leave your office if you give me a job.” She smirked, not moving an inch..

Michelle sighed, comforting the baby one last time. “It’s okay.. Mommy will be with you in a bit.” As she entered, the contents that had been knocked over slowly floated back to their respective places. Adore waited for the business to be over with, tapping her foot impatiently. She knew she won in this situation. Her mom was gonna be saved soon enough. How bad could this be?

The witch returned, pulling planks out of her hair as a pen and empty piece of parchment found Adore’s hands. “That’s your contract,” Michelle explained as she returned to her desk, “just sign your name, and I’ll put you to work. And if I hear one little complaint out of you, you’ll be joining your family in the pigpen.”

She nodded in response and stared at the contract, squinting her eyes to see if there was anything funny about it. If there were any added things about turning her anyway, she was going to be more than disappointed. This girl didn’t care if she was a middle-aged woman, she’d punch the living daylights out of her. “So… I just sign?”

“Yes,” Michelle responded.

“Right there?”

“Yes! Quit wasting time. It’s almost like you don’t want this job with how you’re dilly-dallying…” Upon that remark, Adore kneeled down to find a flat surface to sign. “I can’t believe I took that oath. ‘Give a job to anyone who asks’…” Michelle mocked as she fixed a crooked lampshade and turned on that light. “She should be lucky I’m so nice… Are you done there?” As soon as Adore lifted the pen from the parchment, it flew into Michelle’s hands. “Perfect. So, you’re Adore Delano, yes?”

She nodded her head.

“Lovely name for someone like you.” The witch placed a hand over the paper. The human could only gasp as she saw what happened next. Most of the letters from her signature floated from the paper and into Visage’s open fist. She grasped the letters as a smirk stretched across her name. “From now on, your name is Red… You understand that? That’s easy enough to remember, right? You’re Red now. Answer me, Red!”

The sudden change in tone made Ado- Red jump in her place. “Y-yes ma’am…” For the first time that day, she hesitated. She straightened her posture and held her arms closer together, holding back things she shouldn’t be feeling until a familiar voice made her happier.

“You called for me?” Lask had entered the witch’s quarters seemingly unnoticed. Red wondered how much of the interaction she had seen.

“Yes,” the Grand Witch responded, “this child is starting work as of now. Set her up with a job.”

The other spirit nodded her head, turning to the human with a solemn look on her face. “What’s your name?”

Red quietly gasped. You know me… why are you acting like a narc, lady? She wanted to say that, but she had her life and humanity on the line. “It’s Ad-” She stopped herself mid-sentence. “Red. It’s Red.”

A moment of silence broke between the two old friends… or were they ever friends. “Follow me then.” Lask commanded for the newest hire to follow. They kept the silence as they walked down the halls again.

As they entered the elevator, the silence still continued. The human’s puppy dog eyes brightened. They were alone now! Things could get back to how they were. She then broke the eyes “Lask! I am so fuckin’ happy to se-”

“Don’t talk to me unless it’s something important.” Those words lashed at Red. “And address me as Madame Lask.”

Red refused to say anything more as she slumped along one of the lift’s walls. This ride somehow felt longer than all of the other ones.

#rpdr fanfiction #adore delano #alaska thunderfuck #bianca del rio #michelle visage #adore delaska #supernatural au #spirited away au #lesbian au #a road to somewhere #puppy #tw emotional abuse #concrit welcome

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heybabybird · 4 years

Text

Shit I think My Roommate’s a Crime Lord #4(end)

(part 1)(part 2)(part 3)(part 4)(ao3)

Week ?(Saturday + Sunday(again))

---

Saturday

When Tim woke up Jason was gone. He checked the board, noting the red post-it note on his roommate’s side today. Though written haisty, it told him Jason was feeling better and had to tend to some ‘family emergrncy’ Tim knew was an excuse for bat business. Jason avoided his family if he could

His phone had been going off all morning with discussion of the latest Arkham break out- the first one since he’d moved back to Gotham-, Tim can only assumed it was an all hands on deck situation. A quick check on a news site and social media confirms his suspicion. Batman and Robin were spotted earlier that day and there were even blurry pictures speculate to be Nightwing, Batgirl or Black Bat. Even Red Hood and Star City’s Arsenal were trending on twitter!

The more logical part of his brain concludes that he should stay home until the whole shitshow is over but Tim’s inner fanboy was screaming. He had spent a majority of his childhood trailing Batman and Robin all over the rooftops of Gotham, camera clutched tightly in his tiny hands. His fingers itches to capture Gotham’s vigilante in action; it had been too long.

For the most part of the day Tim was having the time of his life, having captured a great picture of Batgirl tag teaming with Nightwing to take down Killer Croc. It soon became apparent local gangs were taking advantage of the fiasco to transport a large shipment of illegal firearms. Tim shadowed the two large men until they came to a warehouse, listening in to their conversation. The ferry was scheduled to leave at dawn tomorrow, disguised as an international courier serice. He qickly snapped a few photos with his phone and forward it to the GCPD as an anonymous tip.

Heavy footprints appraoch where he was hiding. Without a secon’d thought, Tim ducked inside a shipping container, crouched between two crates to be hidden from view. His breathing shallow, too afraid to make any small amount of noise that’d draw attention. The men outside were shuffling about, loading more crates into the container. His blood ran cold when the door slammed shut. Shit.

Tim knew how to keep a secret. Of course he do, he kept Batman’s secret for a whole decade afterall. He’s also really good at playing oblivious to the elephant in the room but god, sometimes Jason comes up with the worst excuses ever. He rejoiced over the fact he still have bars and thought over the possible outcome if he were to text his roommate for help, unquestionably it means letting the cat out of the bag. Maybe Batman would let him off easy and erase his memories with those memory erasing stick thingy, or have him sign an NDA.

Tim only hope the GCPD took his tip and bust the scene, then he’d bang the door for help... Or not.

After contemplating for what felt like an hour, Tim decides he really really doesn’t want to risk getting shipped off and die in the middle of the alantic ocean from malnourishment. He opened a message app, suddenly realized that Jason might not be checking his usual phone at all, but sent a quick SOS just in case.

Now all he have to do is... wait.

Sunday(again)

“Don’t worry, Fluttershy, I’ll get you outta there.”

“Mr. Hood, uh, I’m really sorry about this. Actually, you can probably just leave me here I’m sure the GCPD will get me out sooner or later-”

“Tim, shut the fuck up- Stand back.”

“Okay. Shutting up now.”

“This is two Sundays in a row I had to bust your ass out of trouble, Babybird,” Red Hood mused, sucessfully opening the crate Tim was trapped in, “you should probably stay in on weekends.”

“I- wait, what?” Tim squints at the sudden glare of sunlight.

“Alright! Out of the birdcage, let’s get you home.”

Tim recalled the first time he met Jason Todd, officially; he’d been running on two hours of sleep and double that amount of coffee when the taller man knocked on their door and introduced himself as the new roomie. Tim was starstruck because that’s Robin. His Robin! While he had a fair amount of photos of Dick’s Robin in action, Tim have many, so much many more candid photos of Jason’s Robin tripping or nearly swinging into things.They were safely stashed away in a secret compartment in his childhood bedroom, to this day still collecting dust until someone uncovers them again.

When Jason died little Tim was devastated, it was also around the time his parents decided to ship him off to boarding school. By the time he returned there seems to be an influx of Bat-clan vigilante, too many to keep track of.

And somehow Jason was alive again to the public.

Tim wasn’t sure if he was even awake and not, you know- dreaming, and blurted out: “I’m your biggest fan,” the moment words were working again. Jason looked at him oodly, eyebrow crooked in a questioning manner.

“Thanks? What’d I do?”

Shit.

“Shit. Sorry. Jason Todd, right? I follow your twitter,” Tim offered a small grin, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, “that charity foundation you were working on, I mean- I find that really inspiring. I’m Tim.”

“Oh. Hey, thanks. Nice to meetcha, Tim.”

That was... a nearly year ago.

Now he felt that same brand of embarrassment standing in a shipping container at the crack of dawn, surrounded by crates and crates of ammunition while his vigilante roommate had just taken down an entire gang to save his ass.

The Red Hood strongly insist on accompanying Tim home, something he was extremly thankful for and they quickly hightailed out of there before the police arrived. It’s been quiet when they rode back on Hood’s bike, an unspoken agreement that neither wants to talk about this.

Granted, he didn’t realized his legs were jello until later on. In front of student lodging Tim lunged for a hug, to which Hood’s body froze, hands clutched tightly onto the leather material of his jacket; the sharp scent of motor oil and gunpowder were oddly comforting.

“Thanks.”

#jason todd #tim drake #jaytim #ish #drabbles #roommate au #friendly reminder you can read it as romance or bromance whatever floats ur boars #boats*#i'm done with this au whew fresh out of ideas!!!!#thank u for following this mini series ;w;<3

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things-we-used-tc-share · 5 years

Text

a little laughter

Warnings: Sympathetic Deceit, v minor angst, overall this is extreme fluff

Ship: Roceit, background logicality

Plot: Roman hits gay panic when he hears Deceit laugh properly, the sort of laughter that isn’t forced at all.

Inspired by this art

It’s strange how very little things can make you realize something entirely new about yourself, and others. Take Logan, for example, Logan took three years and four days (and three hours and forty-two minutes) to realize he was in love with Patton, it didn’t happen in a split second, but an abundance of little things made his realization complete.

It takes Roman two seconds to fall in love. He can’t even remember the joke he told, or what could have possibly been so funny, but he does remember the laugh, no it was more like a giggle, that came from Deceit’s lips. His cheeks flush a little, his hand coming up to his mouth but not fast enough to cover the softest smile that Roman has ever seen on the other’s face.

And Roman just breaks, his entire mind spins backward and his heart skips a beat and all that terrible, mushy stuff that he’s born from. Deceit’s eyes crinkle as his entire body language seems to shift just a little, just for a few seconds, before he stiffens and fixes a frown on his face, returning to his usual face. “I’ve been blessed,” Roman whispered.

“You saw nothing,” Deceit growls a little, but Roman’s face splits into two, and the other falters at the sheer happiness and adoration plastered across the creative facet’s face. “Stop that,” Deceit huffs, folding his arms “Stop looking at me like that,”

“But you’re so cute!” Roman fawns a little, resting his face in his hands as his voice comes out as a squeak. Deceit tries to remain mad, but he’s not exactly aced the art of being mad at Roman, Roman is the only one of them he struggles to remain pissed off at, despite being so...uh...naive. “Why have I never seen you laugh before?”

“I am not cute, and you have seen me laugh before,”

“Not like that you haven’t!” Deceit can’t argue, Roman had never seen him genuinely laugh before, no-one has. It makes Roman wonder how much else is an act, he can’t help it, that laugh was so small and soft and cute. All the things he hadn’t thought the other to be.

But he drops the conversation because he can see the reptilian man squirm just a little, uncomfortable, and doesn’t want to press the issue. So instead, for the next few weeks, he simply observes.

Sometimes, Deceit will take his gloves off when he thinks no one else is looking. Roman keeps quietly observing this as he turns the pages of his book, there are scales all over the back of his left hand, they look like they would be nice to touch. Roman blushes to himself and averts his gaze elsewhere, not wanting to think about that specific train of thought.

Occasionally, Deceit also sings to himself and not just cheesy villain songs, soft songs, the sort of songs Patton might listen too when he’s baking. Quiet little love songs that Roman could not have expected from the other.

He’s starting to think maybe Deceit is more than just how he presents himself, and then he wonders why that’s a shock when so many of them are exactly the same. Virgil cracked first, not always being angry and scary as he presents himself, but actually being soft-hearted. Logan, pretending he can’t feel, Patton, pretending he can’t feel sad, even he himself is guilty of lying about his pride.

He decides to pay the other a visit, just to solidify what he’s already thinking. To get to Deceit is hard, as in his room, with them you can just wander in and out whenever you please because they actually have doors to their rooms. When it comes to the others, you have to focus on what you want, what they’re specialty is. So Roman lies to himself, he lies to himself about many things all the time, and focusing on all the lies at once can be overwhelming but it’s for a good cause.

Deceit’s room in excessive, gold and black and surprisingly well decorated, with pale yellow curtains and...glow in the dark stars? Thomas really does not get that dark, does he? But Roman’s question is answered before he even asks it, because Deceit is there, lying on his bed with a book in his hands. The gloves are off, but so is his usual outfit. He’s dressed in a t-shirt, black with a little gold snake on the left breast, and black jeans, lying back as he reads. His hair is messy and the hat is gone, and he looks so much more...calm.

Until he looks up at Roman “What are you doing here?” he startles a little, cheeks going red “This part of Thomas’ mind isn’t good for you, Roman!” He stands up as if going to usher Roman out, but the other is still a little starstruck by how small the scaled man looks in clothes that aren’t made for him to look bigger.

“I was uh...” He trails off “I’m sorry but you really are cute,” He whispers, “And I’m the epitome of hopeless and gay so I can’t really think about anything else right now,”

“Did you come all the way here just to tell me that, you couldn’t have just summoned me, or anything,”

“Oh, uh no, I was trying to see if you were lying to me, well to us, but specifically to me,” He flushes “I realize that’s a dumb thing to say to a liar,” Deceit sighs in response, looking down at his feet “I’m sorry if I intruded,” He looks away for a second “I just...I really had to know,”

“Well now you know, are you satisfied with your conclusion?” He sounds a little irritated, so he really doesn’t only speak in lies.

“I don’t know,” Roman whispers, he can see the annoyance flicker across Deceit’s face as he steps closer, jaw tense “Why are you upset?” He doesn’t know, he really doesn’t know, he just knows he is upset, somehow or some way about the fact that Roman knows him, the person who exists to keep things close to his chest and lie his way out of situations. Roman knows him, no he’s not upset with Roman, he’s terrified of the power that he now has.

“Don’t tell anyone,” He whispers.

“If you don’t want me too, then I won’t, I don’t...I don’t want to upset you,”

“But I’m the villain, that’s who I’m supposed to be, I’m so supposed to be mysterious and angry and you’re supposed to hate me and...” He’s ranting; Roman sighs. And then he kisses him. “Oh,” Like a snake, Deceit recoils, his hands faltering from waving around and falling limply by his sides, even his scales seem to tint a little red. “I see,”

“Sorry,”

“If you apologise one more time I’m legally allowed to kill you,”

“Good luck,” Deceit laughs, and Roman inhales sharply, that laugh, the laugh that had started all this. He leans a little closer, and the smile on the other man’s face just seals his fate all over again, as he cups Deceit’s jaw, feeling the scales underneath his fingertips (they’re so smooth).

And kisses him again.

Taglist:

@analogical-mess // @unikornavenger // @mycatshuman // @creativity-killed-thekitten// @theresneverenoughfandoms // @charmingprincey // @aclickonapostwillchangeyourlife // @heck-im-lost//@k9cat//@stilljittery//@romansleftshoulderpad// @sanderssideslibrary // @max-is-tired //@therealmoshar// @punsterterry // @trashypansexual// //@demigodnamedathena//@sevencrashing// @misunderstood-shadow//@aphriteblack//@jemthebookworm//@sandersandthesides//@penguinkool//@georganabanana// @importantrunawaystudentstuff // @ao-koshka// @dangerous-doodle // @river-waterfall // @hell-or-high-waters // @no-sleep-gang-posts// @wxlcomxtothxjunglx //@marshmallow-the-panda// @flix-net // @omni-hamiltrash

–

Ko-Fi

#roceit #sympathetic deceit #sanders sides

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astarlightmonbebe · 5 years

Text

~DMing the Wrong Person; Stray Kids Hyung Line~

Bang Chan

So, Chan is a music producer and he has around 300k followers on Instagram

You honestly only followed him because he was good looking (yeah that’s a bit shallow but you actually bothered to listen to some of his beats and now you stan his music, too)

You’re just a chill fan of his, only have his post and story notifs on because you like to keep up but you’re not obsessive

Anyways so you found this really funny post with some screenshots of his recent live (which was at like midnight...and Chan was pretty tired...you love memes, you had to take advantage of him)

Chan’s insta is @prod_cb97 and you’re just scrolling through your contacts to ‘p’ to send to your friend, but it’s late and you accidentally click Chan’s name and send it before realizing your mistake

Of course you’re like ‘omg, I have to unsend that now’, but by the time you’ve exited over to it, it already says ‘seen’???

Cue: major freakout because what the heck is happening, why is he looking at your messages

AND THEN IT SHOWS HE’S TYPING?

911 is this a drill it’s 2 a.m. in the morning

He finally sends a message, ‘ik i’m a meme why do you guys bully me like this’

And you’re like; ‘jkdahfds I’M SO SORRY I’LL ESCORT MYSELF OUT’

But he’s all ‘noo, I was kidding’

Then he also adds; ‘those are high quality memes, I saved them’

Like, please, Chan, those memes were so ugly and you both knew it

You don’t know what else to say so you end up being all; ‘it’s two a.m., you should be sleeping !! us fans want you to be well rested :)’ and it sounds so weird???

You’re not that big of the fan...

It takes him a couple minutes, but he responds; ‘music doesn’t sleep :), but thank you for the concern!’

How is he so cute and cool at the same time...you’re a little bit starstruck because you’re follower account waves at 502 and his has a big ‘k’ on the end

You decide it’s time to get sleep, but then he sends you !! another !! message !!

‘Well...you know all about me, can I know a little bit about you? Anyone who creates such wholesome memes is worth getting to know’

Hmm, it almost sounds like a pickup line, but you’re not crazy

(okay, maybe a little, because you respond back with probably a little too much information than he had wanted and/or expected)

‘hi, I’m y/n and I’m just a uni student who likes way too many groups and people, I’m an art major at my college...’

He probably didn’t need to know that, you should stop, definitely

He replies back with three laughing emojis

Laughing emojis???? WHAT DOES THAT MEAN??

You panic and say; ‘why are you laughing at me???!!!!’

‘oh...I’m sorry if that offended you, I just wasn’t expecting your present life story’.

Oh. You feel bad now. He was just being a nice person :(((.

‘No...I’m the one who is sorry.’

There is silence

It says ‘seen’ but he’s not typing?

Oh gosh you messed up for real this time

Ahhhhhh who let you be on Instagram at two a.m. again?????

Then, out of the darkness of that ‘seen’, there comes the sweetest words you’ve ever seen.

‘Tbh I actually was really touched at those memes because I sometimes really feel like I’m only appreciated for being handsome and not for my music...but you really made me feel like a real music person who even has memes made for them, and it made me happy 💗’

You’re over here in a puddle of tears because literally you feel like a fake fan since you don’t really keep up with him and you were so shallow in the beginning.

What comes out of your fingers is; ‘haha wow. that’s so sad because honestly you’re amazing and I have mega respect for you for being so young and doing all this stuff, also living off two hours of sleep (don’t do that). So my tbh is that you’re awesome and I’m not and like...2 a.m. feels???’

Someone stop you before you fully word vomit all over this conversation

Yet, he replies with a ‘:)’

After five minutes, the ‘typing’ icon pops up again, and he sends; ‘i hope we can talk more, y/n’

Uhhhh heck yeah you would love that, Chan would probably regret it when he learns you’re a mess all the time, but anyways!!!

‘me too’ you opt to say, and then; ‘but first, we should both sleep’

Chan likes your message; ‘we have an agreement’ he says, and then his online flag disappears, leaving you smiling at your phone.

Kim Woojin

Woojin actually goes to the same college as you

You have a few mutual friends and at a meet up one day you all exchanged numbers and instagram handles

Though you unfollowed a lot of those people, you personally found Woojin very cute and he posted song covers with his guitar too! and as you know, you’re a big music fan :) so you kept on following him

And he kept following you! You guys even comment on each other’s posts sometimes and join lives, as well as say hello to each other on campus

So maybe you started having an interest in him...but who’s to say?

Anyways one day you’re just bored and looking through insta stories instead of working on that big assignment that requires way to much work

Woojin’s posted a clip of a coming up cover on his story and you’re all like ‘oh that’s super cool’

Yet you have no courage to tell him that, so you’re just swiping past again when you’re sweaty fingers are all like ‘oh we would rather slide up instead of go right’ and suddenly you’ve sent a 100 sticker to him?

You’ve done what now?

You’re blessing instagram for being able to unsend things, but he has, once again, already seen it

It’s just your luck, really

‘thx so much’ he replies after liking your story response

‘ahaha...np’ you say, then add tentatively, ‘you’re so good at music, like you’re voice is so beautiful??’

‘aww, thank you~’ he says, and you let out a breath because you think the crisis has been averted, but suddenly...

‘you’re actually so good yourself! I really love your art, you’re super talented!’

(you personally think you SUCK at art but like,,,if Woojin thinks you’re good you must be a little, right?)

‘thanks but I’m not that good’ you reply with a laughing emoji

He sends you angry emojis next! and you’re like ??? what did I do wrong??

You wait anxiously as he’s typing

‘y/n, believe me when I say you and you’re art is so breathtaking’

It’s so short but...so good...you’re heart...is fluttering

Unsure of what to say, you like his message and send some soft heart emojis, unable to convey the emotion you feel right now

He sends a heart emoji right back, along with a blushy face

(what does that mean???)

You send one more heart and then the conversation is over, but you have a feeling that maybe something new has started as well

Maybe

Lee Minho

Minho is a famous model under JYP entertainment, and his handle is @youknow_itsminho

Firstly, you’re in love with his aesthetic, because every model picture he posts is like looking at an angel without wings.

Secondly, he always goes live all the time and it’s with his cats

People who respect and love their pets??? Yes.

Lives is how it happens, actually

You’re clicking around on Instagram, watching his live, and a notification from your friend comes in. You click on it, but your phone shorts out suddenly.

When it turns back on, it opens back up to your messages, so you quickly type out a response ‘lol’ and hit send.

It sends...but, ummm...that was not the convo you were having with your friend.

In fact, it’s to someone you’ve never even had a convo with

You quickly check the handle and, omg, it’s Minho’s account djshjkad!

When you clicked on the notification, you’re finger must have accidentally hit his account name instead.

‘At least he’s live still, so he probably won’t notice and doesn’t bother to check...’ you thought to yourself, because you were sure many people tried to talk to him since he had almost one million followers.

Haha...right?

So you go to sleep, turn off your phone and put it face down

But you forgot to turn off your ringer

At three in the morning it goes off right in your ear, really loudly

You’re already pissed at being awake and still half asleep, so when you see it’s an Instagram notification, you automatically assume it’s your friends and reply as you would to them without bothering to read the message.

‘WHY ARE YOU GUYS UP AT THREE A.M., LET ME SLEEP FOR GOODNESS SAKE I’M GOING TO BEAT YOU UP TOMORROW’

Not your finest moment,...but please, you need your beauty sleep

With that, you roll over and go back to sleep

In the morning, you wake up and go check Instagram, like you do every morning

You check your pms, but the top one shocks you so much you have to blink several times to make sure you’re not dreaming.

Minho??? He saw your ‘lol’?

Ahh...as it turns out he saw much more than just ‘lol’.

Remind you to never respond to notifications at three a.m. x.x

Then-this dude- sends you a selfie he took from snapchat or whatever with the caption ‘woken up at three a.m. from my fans’

Yes??? That’s you??? You’re sorry???

‘I’m sorry about that but dang man, no need to be so salty...’; you send

Also, you realize as you’re looking through instagram, he posted the snapshots of your message to him on his story with all these laughing emojis...THIS BOY NOW YOU’RE MAD

I mean he crossed out the handle and profile picture but you know that’s you and, really, that’s what matters right now

So you dm him again; ‘hey did you really need to post that I DIDN’T THINK I WAS THAT FUNNY’

More laughing emojis

You’re about ready to snap, but he sends you another picture with ‘i’m sorry’ scrawled over his beautiful face

You can’t help but smile at that, especially when he adds ‘i’ll talk to you tomorrow?’

‘to clear up this misunderstanding of course :)’ he is quick to add

‘of course’; you say, smiling as you log off

Seo Changbin

Changbin is your best friend’s scary older brother

He followed you first so you followed him back for courtesy’s sake

Plus you like to laugh at his bucket hat posts...

The bucket hat posts is how it all starts

He posts another one and you’re sending it to your friend to laugh about how he looks so soulless, but...ahah...their contacts are right next to each other and maybe you accidentally clicked his?

You’re really not sure how it happened, except the message is sent to Changbin and definitely not your friend

And wow, reading it back, that sounds so mean, especially considering you sent it to the person the message was about

He’s seen it

Oh...wow...you’re really screwed

You immediately try and send an apology that goes something along the lines of ‘I AM SO SO SORRY I SWEAR I DIDN’T MEAN FOR THAT TO COME OFF SO MEAN OR ANYTHING REALLY’

He sees it again

And leaves you like that for a whole hour

Where you just kind of turn your phone off and try and do something else but the anxiety keeps you checking your phone constantly

Finally he says ‘I’m used to people making fun of me and my hat, no big deal’

But that’s actually kind of sad, so you’re all like ‘:(((’

And he’s all ‘is this conversation done’

Which kind of slaps but like it’s all your fault anyways so whatever

You find some hug gif and send it to him, and then you get radio silence before he actually sends a ‘thanks’

Hmm...you can’t read sarcasm online...

‘are you being sarcastic?’ you ask

‘no, that made me smile’ he tells you and wow, you weren’t expecting him to be quite so touched by a random gif you found

‘i’m glad!’ you send him, and he actually sends a smiley face?

(he uses emojis? in all your years you had never pegged Seo Changbin as the emoji sending type of person. surprises happen, you guess)

‘I really am very sorry though :(’ you send again because you’re REALLY sorry

‘you’re forgiven, so don’t sweat over it haha’ he tells you

You guess that’s that but you still feel really bad about the whole situation, like you never thought you were a mean person, but that was pretty mean of you

You don’t want to bother him by apologizing again

So you just say ‘ah okay, I won’t~I hope you have a good day’

And he’s like ‘you too’

You can’t tell if he’s just using etiquette or if he really means it, but you’ll take what you can get

(you also never make fun of him or anyone ever again, having learned your lesson)

(your friend also finds out about this exchange and mercilessly teases both of you)

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sendingmyrevenge · 5 years

Text

It’s A Date - Jeff Skinner

A/N: Another fic posted once in a blue moon? You bet! Should I make a part 2 or turn this into a series?

Warnings: None

Summary: Your youngest brother wanted nothing more than to see his idol, Jeff Skinner, play in person. Because he was born deaf, you come to his aid to translate what was happening and Jeff just happens to notice.

*Quotes in italics is Finn signing

The KeyBank Center bustled with fans covered head-to-toe in navy blue and gold. You were no exception to this, blending right in with the rest of arena.

In half an hour, the Buffalo Sabres will be playing against the Vancouver Canucks.

Today’s game was special for you. Not only was it between your two favorite teams, it was also your youngest brother’s, Finn’s, 9th birthday.

Due to a pregnancy complications, Finn was born deaf. You were 14 and your other brother, Parker, was 13 when your mother became pregnant with Finn. With your mother’s age, everyone knew what risks were to come with the pregnancy. You were just thankful Finn was born as healthy as he could be.

As he grew and entered elementary school, Finn had trouble making friends. None of his classmates knew sign language, so it was difficult to communicate with his peers. The only people he was comfortable around with were his family, especially you and your other brother.

Coming from a hockey-loving family, Finn found the sport as his getaway. You didn’t need to hear to understand the sport. Everything was visual and exhilarating. Finn loved watching the speed of the hockey players skating on the ice. He was mesmerized by their agility and skills, especially Jeff Skinner’s.

The dimpled, 5’11”, brunette haired man who always wore a smile on his face eased his way into Finn’s heart, and ultimately the whole family’s hearts. Jeff meant a lot to Finn. It was a mixture of Jeff’s talents and his bubbly personality that won Finn over.

For Finn’s birthday, your family decided to surprise him with tickets to the Sabres game. When he received the tickets, Finn almost fell out of his seat. He gave everyone the tightest hug he could muster up and would not stop jumping around. He frantically signed “Thank you!” and “This is the best present ever!” The words he mouthed were not up to speed with his hands.

It would be you, Finn, and Parker that would be attending. Your parents stayed home since your family could only afford three tickets, and it was even more costly because of where the seats were.

Now here you were, past security and currently waiting next to the men’s bathroom because Parker didn’t go before you left the house. Finn held onto your hand, rocking back and forth impatiently.

You felt him tug your arm and looked down at Finn. He signed to you, “Can we just leave Parker? I wanna see the warmups!”

You laughed and ruffled his hair. Finn obviously couldn’t contain his excitement any longer. You signed back, “Easy there, bud. We still have a lot of time.”

Finn huffed, but nodded in understanding. Not a moment later, Parker exited the bathroom with a cheeky grin.

“Well that was relieving. I was holding in that doozy the whole ride here.” He spoke to you and also signed so Finn could understand.

“Ugh, I didn’t need to know that.” You grimaced.

“Alrighty then,” Parker rolled down the sleeves to his Eichel jersey. “Wanna get food first and then find our seats?”

Finn furiously shook his head. “Seats now. Food later.”

You and Parker complied. You held your hand out for Finn to hold and followed Parker to your seats. Finn had no clue where you guys would be sitting, and boy was he was in for a treat.

The three of you didn’t have to take that many escalators to get to your lodge. In fact, you only had to go up one floor. Finn’s grip tightened the closer you guys walked to the ice. A smirk creeped onto your face when Parker stopped at the very first row.

“Here we are.” He beamed at Finn. Your seats were right next to the Sabres bench. With the biggest smile on his face, Finn let go of your hand and crashed into Parker to give him another hug.

When they let go and Finn turned to face you, you signed, “What, no hug for me? I’m the one who bought the tickets!” The smile on your face showed that you were only joking. Nevertheless, Finn gave you his infamous bear hug.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. Do you guys want anything?” Parker asked.

“Pizza.”

“Fries.”

While Parker went to the concessions, you situated self in your seat and checked your phone. 20 minutes until the game started.

Finn sat in the seat closest to the bench. He looked around in awe, taking in his surroundings. The zamboni made its final lap around the rink, fans unknowingly appeared on the jumbotron, and the refs and linesmen were huddled around the net. The arena seemed so small on the television screen. But in reality, the size was overwhelming.

Occupied with replying to your boss’ email, you didn’t realize the players began skating on the ice. Finn smacked your arm repeatedly to get your attention, pointing at a familiar #53.

“It’s Jeff Skinner! It’s Jeff Skinner!” He signed.

Finn banged on the glass trying to get Jeff’s attention whenever he skated past them. Moments later, Jeff skated towards your area again and stopped. He worked on some puck control techniques while watching his other teammates warm up.

Jeff stood right in front of Finn. Only the glass separated you and Finn from him. All your little brother could do was stare up at him in shock and admiration.

You quickly unlocked your phone to take a photo of the sight and text it to the family groupchat. The photo came out perfectly. Finn had his mouth wide open, looking up at Jeff. Jeff, oblivious to what was going on, had his back turned towards Finn.

Being the amazing big sister you were, you pounded on the glass in hopes of gaining Jeff’s attention. Fortunately, it worked. Jeff turned around and waved. The smile on his face deepened when he saw you.

Your heart skipped a beat. He was more attractive in person and his dimples made him even more adorable. What could you say, sometimes a girl’s gotta fangirl.

“It’s my little brother’s birthday. It would make his day if he got a puck!” You screamed over the music.

“Of course!” Jeff smiled. He picked the puck up with his stick and threw it over the glass. You caught it with ease, handing it to a starstruck Finn.

Finn snapped out of his daze, hugging the puck close to him. You thanked Jeff on behalf of Finn, hugging your brother close to your side in glee.

“It’s no problem.” Jeff stated. “How old are your turning, bud?”

You translated Jeff’s question to Finn, and he held up nine fingers.

“Oh... Is he deaf?” He asked upon seeing your hand gestures.

“Yeah he is. But he loves watching hockey, especially his favorite team.” You replied.

“Ah, I see. Who’s his favorite player?”

“That would be you! You’re his idol.”

Jeff’s face reddened upon hearing your answer. He held his gloved fist against the glass, motioning for Finn to give him a fist bump.

“Thanks, buddy. That means a lot.” You translated his words to Finn. He fist bumped Jeff and signed, “Can you sign my jersey?”

“He wants to know if you could sign his jersey.”

“For sure! How about after the game, you meet in the locker room? I can give him a tour. Meet some other players too.”

“Oh my gosh, that would make his entire year!” You beamed. You couldn’t wait to give Finn the news.

“What’s your name so I can tell security?”

“Y/N L/N. And this is my brother Finn!”

“Y/N. Finn. Got it.”

Your name rolled easily off of Jeff’s tongue. Jeff could finally put a name to your face and he would be lying if he said he didn’t find you attractive.

“I gotta go, but security will come and get you after the game. Bye Y/N! Happy birthday, Finn! Wait... you’ll translate what I said to him, right?” He awkwardly scratched the back of his head. Jeff was never in this situation before, but he wanted to make sure Finn knew what he said.

You let out a laugh. “Of course.”

“Okay great. Well, enjoy the game!” He waved at the two of you and skated away.

The people sitting in the seats around you stared at you with wide eyes. Oh, how they wish they had gotten a player’s attention.

Finn looked up at you with curious eyes. He really wanted to know what you and Jeff were talking about. You signed to him everything Jeff said and Finn’s reaction was well worth it.

Parker came back with the food and drinks, annoyance lingering on his face. “The damn mustard packet exploded and it got on my jersey.” He placed the trays on the ground now able to sign so Finn could be included in the conversation. “So, did I miss anything?”

---

Throughout the game, Finn would wave at Jeff whenever he sat down on the bench and he’d always wave back. Other players waved at him as well and you caught it all on video. You couldn’t wait to show your friends the adorable sight. You caught Parker up on everything he missed and he wouldn’t shut up about it. “Next time you’re getting the food and I’ll woo the players.” He joked.

The game ended in OT with Jeff scoring the winning goal. Everyone was leaving the arena in happy spirits while the three of you were escorted to the locker room doors by security. Finn was on Parker’s back, trying hard not to fall asleep because the post-game interviews were taking too long. When Jeff walked out of the locker room showered and dressed in his finest suit, you had to do a double take. The black on black suit was doing miracles to him.

“Sorry about that. Sometimes the press likes to hold us up with useless questions.” He glanced at Parker and held out his hand. “Hi, I’m Jeff. And you are?”

“I’m their brother Parker and a big fan of yours. You game-winning goal was amazing!” So much for him playing it cool.

“Thanks man. It means a lot.” He smiled sheepishly.

Jeff then turned to you. “It’s nice to see you again, Y/N.” He shook your hand longer than he had done with Parker, smiling gently.

“Likewise.” You blushed.

Finn jumped down from Parker’s back, now fully awake. His presence caused you and Jeff to separate.

“Finn, my man! Did you like the game?” Jeff crouched down to Finn’s level and gave him a hug. When they separated you translated to Finn, who nodded his head vigorously.

After all the formalities, Jeff led you guys inside the locker rooms with Finn holding his hand. He introduced the team to Finn and they all gave him hugs and fist bumps. Parker was with them to translate while you stayed back to take photos.

As Eichel was helping Finn try on his jersey and gear, Jeff took the opportunity to walk over to you.

“Hey,” He stood next to you with his hands deep in his pockets. You greeted him back. The both of you watching Finn laugh at something Jack did.

“You’re an amazing sister, you know.” Jeff spoke up.

“Thanks, I’d do anything to make him happy.” You blushed. “He’s idolized you even when you were with the Canes.” Now it was Jeff’s turn to blush.

“Finn has us all wrapped around his fingers already. He’s a special kid.”

“Yeah. He has that effect on people.” You laughed.

“Um... if it’s alright with you, I’d like to invite Finn to one of our practices and get him on the ice with us.” You stared at him gobsmacked. Jeff was already doing so much for Finn. You didn’t expect him to go out of his way again - not that you were complaining.

“Of course! Finn would love that so much!” You gushed.

The two of you exchanged numbers so you could plan out the details.

“I hope you’re not a crazy fan who’ll sell my number.” He joked.

“Aw man, you got me. Guess I won’t be paying off my student loans tonight.” You nudged him. Jeff threw his head back and laughed. You couldn’t help but laugh as well, and you subconsciously leaned into him for support.

When the laughs started to die down, he cleared his throat noticing how close the two of you were. You stepped back embarrassed and apologizing, but his dimpled smile appeared on his face again to let you know it was fine.

“So, um. Uh...” Jeff looked down at his shoes, trying to find the right words.

“Do you think we can get together before Finn comes to our practice so you can teach me some basic sign language? It’s cool if you can’t. I mean, I just thought it would be nice if I can talk - I mean sign - to him so he can feel right at home. You’ll still be there to translate, of course. So I guess we don’t need to meet up...”

You let him ramble on. The extra length Jeff was willing to go to for your brother made your heart melt. It was truly one of the most adorable things you’ve ever seen.

“If you want, we can meet up during my lunch breaks any day you’re free. It would make Finn’s day if you could learn a little bit of sign language.” You offered. His face broke out into a relieved smile.

“Great! I’ll text you when I’m free and we can start from there.” He beamed.

“It’s a date.” You confirmed, smiling widely.

Jeff mirrored your expression. “I guess it is.”

He gave you one final look and walked back to Finn, ready to show him more of the arena.

#jeff skinner #jeff skinner x reader #jeff skinner imagine #jeff skinner fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl #nhl x reader #nhl fanfiction #buffalo sabres #hockey imagine #hockey x reader #hockey fanfiction #hockey

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maxmcyfield · 4 years

Photo

Peyton Chua Shares Her Firsts | Teen Vogue - Youtube

posted on 12 October 2021

[...]

First Big Career Decision?

I think... Like the first time I turned down a dance job to do a role. Yeah. Like I was offered to do a pretty big dance tour, and I had done a couple rehearsals at that point, and then I got called that I got the role for Ladybird. It was a really big decision for me because I felt like I was being pulled in two different directions but ultimately I took a stand and told my mom I wanted to act. I think it was then when I was filming Ladybird and I got to watch Winnie Ramsey work and act her heart out that I realized how much I loved it and that I could just... really do it - that I thought ‘Oh okay, I want to do this for real’. Because of that I got to be where I am now and doing all this acting that I love! And I still love dancing and I get to do it so it was a win-win. Thankfully. Thank god.

First Movie Premiere?

It was for Pitch Perfect 2! Wow I remember this way too well. Me and my sister and a couple other Dance Moms girls were invited and it was so exhilarating? Like we got to pick out our dresses and got our hair and makeup done and everything. I remember being so nervous on the carpet for some reason so I was holding on to Lily’s hand so tightly while we were taking pictures. I was wearing like a

First Time Abroad?

I don’t remember it I know but we used to always go to China to visit my grandparents. It was usually for Chinese New Year for a couple days a year. So I was on planes even before I realized what I was doing, really.

First New Language?

I used to speak some Hokkien and Mandarin to my grandparents when I was younger. But then when my grandma moved here to live with us when I was around fourteen? I think? I spoke to her a lot in Mandarin and became pretty fluent because of that. [in Mandarin:] I was really the only one who tried to learn Mandarin with my grandmother so no one else except my mom really speaks Mandarin. My little sister does, a little, enough that we use it sometimes when we don’t want anyone else to know what we’re saying.

First Los Angeles Moment?

Sia brought my brothers, Elias and Oliver, Lily and I out to go eat In N’ Out. It’s simple, but it was just a really nice thing after we got settled into our new house after moving from Pittsburgh, she wanted to spend time with us before we had to start dance rehearsals again so we just ate some really good burgers and then hit up an arcade and had ice cream after. It really helped me ground myself in that moment of “Wow! I’m in LA!” but in the best way possible. Like I’m still here with my family and we’re having fun together as a family and not everything is show business and dance.

[...]

First Dancing On Stage Experience?

It was my first mini elite dance competition! I was five and it was great, surprisingly. Like I felt like a star on that stage. There weren’t that many people in the audience either so that helped because it was just between the Pittsburgh dance studios. My first ever number was a tap number titled ‘Over the Clouds’! I had a cute little sky blue leotard with a flowy skirt and I danced my tiny heart away into a third placing.

First Role That Inspired Me to be an Actress or a Dancer?

But when I was really tiny? This is gonna sound so dumb, but genuinely? The first Step Up movie. Like these people were doing real dancing and they were acting? Blew my little mind. Also Joy Luck Club - it was the first time I saw people who looked like me on stage leading a movie. Yes, I love the Step Up series. I was never really a hip hop dancer but watching those movies made me fall in love with the art of it and made me want to try it out in classes at my old studio. Really kind of changed the trajectory of the type of dancer I’d become even though I didn’t realize it at first. Of course, I’d love to be in one in the future - if they ever make them anymore?

[...]

First Best Friend?

Jean! Jean Harlow. Who was on Dance Moms with me and we still hang out sometimes today too! Like I plan to meet her tomorrow before I go to Charleston. I remember it was before our tap class together. We had seen each other before a couple of times, but that specific time, we were both earlier than everyone else and we set our stuff next to each other and something just clicked, you know?

First Instant Connection?

If we’re talking about people and not wi-fi or something then Link and I when we first met... it was an instant feeling of closeness. He’s just so warm and personable that the initial awkwardness of meeting someone new I usually feel just disappeared. Our director, after our first rehearsal, got us to just walk around New York for a bit and we got ice cream and we just talked for a long time. I probably told him far too much about me like... TMI stuff, but it never felt wrong. I’m lucky he still wanted to date me after all that. But yeah... that’s kind of when I knew I’d have him in my life for a long time.

First Kiss?

I think everyone knows the answer to this. It was on Dance Moms! Everyone saw me run away when I had to do it! But yes, I was ten and it was with Paolo - who I talk to sometimes still today, he’s doing amazing things in dance right now - and... full disclosure, I hated it. Sorry Paolo. But sometimes I like to think that my first kiss was with Tristan Falkenrath from Permafrost. Why? Because that was the next time I ever kissed anyone! It was for a movie we shot together, and he was so nice especially because I was so nervous, and like I was so so happy because I had basically fulfilled the dreams of twelve-year-old Pey.

First Time Being Starstruck?

Oh, meeting Permafrost for sure. I remember this so clearly I was fourteen, and it was straight after dance rehearsals. It was my first concert too. I begged my mom to let me go and my step dad got me meet and greet passes as a treat and my older sister brought me. It was crazy like I remember just barely saying anything I felt so dumb but I also remember Minzy smiled at me to like encourage me which was the coolest thing. Then I was crying immediately after I took the pictures with them and then also crying during the concert. And yes, anyone that knows me knows that I do still feel very strongly for Permafrost.

#peyton #anom #i love... she...#also since he's mentioned #o:lincoln #peyton x lincoln #otp:can't hide it

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