#patron: pspspspsps

[crabsnpersimmons]

This one goes out to all the slow burn enjoyers, the dense Y/Ns, and the soft robo jesters that suffer in silence!

Inspired by @bamsara's “Solar Lunacy” fic.

If you feel like reading my ramblings and want to experience more heartbreak for fictional jester blorbos, check under the cut where I detail all the planning behind the frames!

so i heard this song for the first time in a while and the opening lyrics immediately made me think of moon, so i was daydreaming some scenes and then i decided to thumbnail some ideas:

and it all went downhill from there as everything became a metaphor and a parallel to each other, which i will now go into detail on!

you thought the animatic itself was sad?

*writing muse laughs maniacally* IT'S ALL A METAPHOR

Frame 1. "turn down the lights" We start with a back view on Moon. The lights are out, the Moon is out, but we do not see his face. The music and the greyscale atmosphere are enough to establish the weight of the moment and the weight on Moon’s mind.

Frame 2. "turn down the bed" We cut to a shot of Moon's body, kneeling on the ground of the daycare, like a padded cell. Moon’s hands are twitching with the effects of the glitch, with purple sparks coming from his hands. We still do not see his face.

Frame 3. "turn down these voices inside my head" Cut to an extreme close up on the dark half of Moon’s face. Now we see his face, but only a portion of it. His left eye is wide open, red and glitching out. The voices in his head can refer to the glitch but also his repressed feelings. Or maybe it could be Sun's voice in their shared headspace.

Frame 4. "lay down with me" Y/N's hand enters the frame from the upper right corner, lowering down to meet Moon where he kneels on the ground. Only a corner of Moon's face appears on the bottom left corner of the frame, his starry nightcap beginning to cover his glitched left eye.

Frame 5. "tell me no lies" An full shot of Moon on the floor and Y/N standing in front of him with their hand stretched towards him. A light spills out from behind Y/N, creating a boundary between them.

Now we see more of Moon. It is only when Y/N enters the frame—enters his world—that Moon’s body is shown in its entirely. When Y/N is here, he is no longer fragmented. He is whole.

Frame 6. "just hold me close" pspspspsps Playfully, Moon extends his own hand, beckoning Y/N to come closer, to join him. His right hand crossed over his body as he uses the playful gesture to hide his true feelings—to put distance between him and Y/N. His hat continues to cover his glitching left eye. He doesn’t want to worry Y/N.

Frame 7. "don't patronize" In response, Y/N’s hand pats Moon on the head, returning his playfulness. Moon looks surprised by the action. Moon, notably, does not lower his hand—perhaps he has forgotten it or perhaps his invitation is still open.

Frames 8-9. "don't patronize me" Moon rotates his faceplate so Y/N��s hand is touching the side of his faceplate, a more intimate gesture than a head pat. However, his hat is in the way. At this angle, his starry nightcap fully covers his glitchy eye and the dark side of his face, hiding his defect and acting as a veil between him and Y/N. A self-imposed boundary. So close, yet thinly separated. It's better this way. It's safer this way.

The lyrics are broken up by Y/N's arm, both to illustrate how the song is sung ("patronize" is drawn out and "me" is briefly added in before the chorus starts) but also to show how Y/N interrupts Moon's resolve, highlighting the irony between the visuals and the lyrics. Demanding not to be patronized, yet Moon happily accepts this play at intimacy. Don't patronize me, I am weak for it.

This is also the only instance where the red light of Moon's eyes glow and tint the surfaces around it. Visually, it makes it look like Moon is blushing (heavily inspired by @restinsodaroni's art). But also, in this moment of honesty, Moon's intrinsic light spills out, colouring the greyscale world. In this brief moment of honesty, Moon touches the world with his own colours, his own light.

(and this is also where i forgot to clean up the shading on Y/N's arm, but it's okay it doesn't need to be perfect it simply needs to be. And Moon will still love Y/N even if they are a continuity error.)

Frame 10. "'cause I can't make you love me if you don't" A parallel to a frame 4, Y/N retrieves their hand away and immediately Moon is reduced to the corner of his faceplate in the frame. Only now his glitched eye is fully covered by his hat.

The lyrics here (and in the next frame) in particular grow lighter to emphasize Moon's diminishing resolve and agency.

From here on out, the lyrics here are broken up, carrying on this theme of fragmentation. Y/N is pulling away, Moon is breaking up, the words are breaking up. Everything is coming apart.

Frame 11. "you can't make your heart feel something it won't" Y/N turns to leave. The lyrics, broken up as before, highlight the irony of the situation. Y/N, a human, can’t feel something they simply don’t feel. Whereas, Moon, the machine, feels something his code never intended him to feel.

Frame 12. "here in the dark in these final hours" Another full shot that parallels frame 5, as Y/N steps towards the light and Moon leans forward into the space Y/N once occupied. Y/N is leaving—that which makes him whole is leaving. And he is only capable of making it to the boundary where the light cuts into the darkness. The "final hours" suggest it might be the end of Y/N’s shift, or perhaps this scene takes place right before the glitch takes over—the final hours that Y/N has with the true Moon. Either way, time is running out—and only Moon knows it.

There is a contrasting display of body language here. Moon is on the floor leaning towards Y/N with his hand still left out. Whereas Y/N is turned away, walking away, and has already slipped their hand away and into their pocket. Y/N is closed off while Moon is limply open. Y/N is actively moving while Moon is on the floor, waiting, hoping, for that which he lacks the agency to reach for himself.

Frame 13. "I will lay down my heart" A close up on Moon’s hand, rising up again, perhaps to beckon Y/N back once more. This is a slight parallel to Y/N's hand reaching out to Moon. While Y/N can freely reach out and touch Moon, Moon cannot. He can't enter the light and more importantly he can't risk potentially harming his relationship with Y/N—be it through the glitch or by his feelings. He can only lay down his heart—put aside his feelings or hope that someone will pick up his pieces and make him whole.

Frame 14. "and I'll feel the power" Still on a close up on Moon’s hand, now clenched in slightly. This initially was going to have the glitch effects. However, I felt it more meaningful for it to be left without. Leave it up for interpretation why Moon pauses his hand. What is the power that he alone feels and stays his hand?

Frame 15. "but you won't, no, you won't" A parallel to frame 1, a view of on Moon's back with his hand stretched out towards the light, and Y/N walking into the light spilling through the open daycare door.

The placement of the lyrics suggest two different “you won’t”—Y/N who won’t realize Moon’s feelings, and Moon who won’t dare speak them into reality.

Another note on the parallel to frame 1, this time we also see Y/N's back, but it is notably different from our view of Moon's back. With Moon, we literally see inside him through the hole for his loop. However, Y/N is shrouded in shadow, just a solid, obscure silhouette against the bright light of a world Moon—and Sun for that matter—are closed off from. We don’t see into Y/N, just as the Daycare Attendant doesn't have any vantage point of Y/N's life beyond their time at the PizzaPlex. (The unfortunate reality of a being a character made for the purpose of being a vessel for the reader.)

Frame 16. "'cause I can't make you love me" We finally cut to face Moon head-on, frozen in place with his hand stretched out, unable to cross the boundary into the light. His eyes have gone dark. Where we began by seeing bits and parts of Moon, and never seeing his full face—now we, the viewer, see the full Moon, open and vulnerable—unbeknownst to Y/N.

Frame 17. "if you don't" But in the dark, behind closed doors, there is no one to perceive him—no one to receive him. The light dwindles as the daycare doors are closed. Moon stays frozen where he kneels. It is no longer the glitch that plagues him, but a far deeper dread.

But a lone streak of light peaks through the gap in the daycare doors. Perhaps that is just enough. A silver lining. A frail hope. A single, ethereal thread out of darkness and into light.

Thanks for reading and watching!

We'll be back to our regularly scheduled fun and games shortly!

#fnaf moon #fnaf dca #dca fandom #so this idea had me by the throat ever since I heard this song again #I've never done an animatic before but I wanted to give it a shot #the opening lyrics already reminded me of moon right off the bat #but then i kept listening and started thumbnailing some frames #it was actually the frames with moon receiving the head pat and turning his faceplate that convinced me i had to do this lol #the sweetest images resulted in this work of angst #thank you if you read all this! #i promise to post something cute soon to balance things out #and no promises but i will say the second verse of the song is PERFECT for sun #“morning will come and I'll do what's right just give me 'till then to give up this fight” /lyrics #hahaha it hurts :') #crab art #traditional art #digital art #traditionally inked and digitally coloured #animatic

[i-turn-characters-2-warrior-cats]

hallooooo

So I feel like wc dreams has been mentioned a lot so let’s see what his deal is :3

A specific things I’m curious about is the whole dreamon arc if you could expand on it a little

Thanks again and hope you have a nice day :]]

Of course!

(I know some people on this site may have an objection due to recent accusations, so I'm going to say this in the post instead of the tags like I planned: I do not believe myself knowledgeable enough to make a decision about those accusations that I am even semi-confidant in. There's misinformation about both sides, precedent for false accusations against Dream's friends (I'm thinking of the person who falsely accused BBH here), and I doubt that your position on Dream even changed. As I believe in innocent until proven guilty, I will be treating these as if they do not exist until such time that he is proven guilty. I do not know enough to make the decision to treat him as guilty of those accusations).

For Dream, I have a rather unusual name.

Wispfoot.

Wisp is defined as "a small thin or twisted bunch, piece, or amount of something." It also is synonymous with the word "tendril", which is a word that when I think of together with Dream I go "Oh, are you two related?" And "foot" feels simple and fun, and is a reference to the speedrunner vs hunter series!

Wispfoot is strong enough, fast, a good climber, but he has one trait that's very special.

He's got friends on the other side! Wispfoot can communicate with ghosts, and they can communicate with him. This is how he got access to knowledge about reviving, and most of his knowledge actually. A change I'm going to make with WC Ghostbur's revival is that Wispfoot was able to make him permanently visible, so WC Ghostbur trusts him a little more! Heart-wrenching, I know.

He was demoted from leader of HollowClan (thinking of Sleepy Hollow when I named this one) right before he went to prison, with WC Sapnap probably being the one to receive eight lives (Think Sunstar).

I imagine that Dreamons in this universe are simply what the WC DSMP call ghosts who attempt to possess others! I don't know who the Dreamon that possessed Wispfoot was yet (though it would be really, really, really funny if I dragged a canon character into this....especially one who has an influence with my afterlife for kittypets loners and rogues.....but he would have to be really mean to not try and negotiate or something along those lines.........pspspspsp Clear Sky c'mere. Don't know if I'm gonna make that part of the story, but it would be really funny. For reference, Clear Sky is the best parallel the warriors series had to C!Dream.)

I think that Wispfoot's relationship with the ghostly plane is similar to Boarslash's relationship with whoever I decide to make the Patron of War. I'm taking inspiration from the Backrooms here after all, and I've always thought that they are somewhat aware.

That's what gives Wispfoot his skills and ability to bend distances and see ghosts, alongside his natural abilities.

That's it! Thank you for the request, it was a lot of fun! If you have another request or would like elaboration, do contact me again!

#dsmp #warrior cats #characters to warrior cats #dream #c!dream #dream smp #dreamon arc #ITAHTTW #wc #wispfoot

[rennybu]

commission of Rook for @songteller 🍃🍂🩸💀

#patron: pspspspsps #aart #dwarf #blood hunter #dungeons and dragons #dnd #THAT SKELETON WAS SO FUN TO DRAW THANK YOU AGAIN

[aceveria-art]

pspspspsps

Hi I do Spicy art too, but only on ~★ Patreon ★~  Another way you can support me is on Ko-fi!

Subscribe to my Patreon to instantly unlock all the juicy rewards from this month! There’s also a G rated tier if you’d like to support me without the spice c:

Thank you so so much to my February Patrons for your generous support - you are all the best❤️

#drarry #drarry fanart #catboy #catboy!draco #catboy!harry #draco x harry #harry x draco #draco malfoy #harry potter #hpdm #my art #patreon artist #*looks at my art style* why are you anime again..... it eez what it eez i guess #ANYWAY GOODNIGHT IT'S 2AM #the marketing team (me) is doing their best;; #tag edit 30 mins later: in case anyone wasn't wondering harry's ass is the most thicc i've ever drawn it #and draco's 🅱️enis is just.. well. he out. it was a choice. thank u for coming to my tedtalk

[iron-sides]

dsmp pantheon but for pjo au lets go

there is no like. ~king of the gods~ or wtv thats laaaame they are all just simply vibing

phil is like a wind god. he also is a bird king. listen hes a very powerful bird man he communes with the birds and has minor wind abilities. he has a secondary role as a god of death

-> phil doesnt really interact w mortals outside of like. because hes hanging out w techno lijkr4ed. also since techno's retired to to the camp he probably spends every other week w his wife

technoblade is a war god/the blood god this is a given. he runs the camp bc he's always been a protector of new soldiers and genuinely likes training young people. phil is there bc he follows techno around to carry the souls of those he kills to the afterlife. phil and techno are like. besties your honor, platonic life partners, whatever. him running the camp is retirement methinks

-> technoblade chooses mortal heroes that he blesses with the ability to hear the voices in battle and call upon the blood gods strength

phil's wife is the goddess of death. is she kristin, is the the samsung smart fridge, idk but shes married to phil. he comes to see her and brings her the souls of the dead as like a romantic gift, we know the deal

-> lady death has a soft spot for dead babies but shes not like. their mom? she doesnt really have kids or mortals that are "hers", shes not super interested in them. i think shes actually p cold and reserved, except to phil

drista is a trickster god, comes to earth and causes chaos until she is once again banished to the heavens- dionysus in pjo got grounded to camp half blood, drista gets grounded FROM camp half blood or whatever i end up calling the camp

-> drista picks out a mortal she likes and smacks them over the head in their early-ish childhood (before the age of ten) with her mark, thus labeling them as Hers. they may as well be a demigod at that point tbh shes technically their patron not their mom but the only difference is the dynamic lol

dristas older brother is dreamXD. i dont know anything about canon!dreamXD but im gonna make him a god of reality? bc as i understand it he comes to c!gnf in dreams or smth idk. hes probably the most powerful but idt he cares to be king of the gods- unless someone was claiming to be more powerful than him which theyre not dumb enough to do.

-> if gnf is a god, dxd never has mortal children, only blesses young adults and teens. if gnf isnt a god, dxd sometimes does blessings n sometimes has mortal children. his blessings work like how dristas do

foolish used to be a god of death before phil was, but when phil married the samsung smart fridge, he stepped down to become the god of life instead. he doesnt reign over births in any way, i think the ender dragon does that, but he like. u know. hes the totem of undying guy, ppl come to him when theyre trying to avoid death. or like, if theyre afraid someones gonna die- hes ya man

-> foolish fashions children out of clay ^^

herobrine is a god of destruction. you give up offerings to him to avoid, like, earthquakes n shit

-> herobrine curses ppl and then their kids are all herobrine descendants, inexplicably. i think there is almost definitely some kind of stigma? or smth? major downside. of being a herobrine kid bc of this.

gnf miiiight be a god of dreams or miight be the son of dreamXD i dont watch him so idk how/how much i wanna play into his and dreamXD's canon dynamic. ill have to watch some vods n talk to my datemates little sister and come back to it later

-> gnf does blessings if hes a god. his mortals have prophetic dreams :]

schlatt is a god of divine justice or punishment, he judges the dead and works w mumza to decide who gets what afterlife. i will not elaborate on why find the clip of wilbur reacting to the matpat video lij5rkefd

-> schlatt Has Kids

FUCK official minecraft lore the ender dragon is the benevolent ruler of the end in-game and here shes the god of like, birth/rebirth/life. bc her whole thing is that shes got this egg and shes protecting it.

-> the ender dragon fucks (love her so much)

lady prime is one of my favorites shes a god a wealth and of business endeavors of all kinds- genuine, scams, pyramid whatevers, if the aim is to get cash money in your pocket u should pray to her shell help u out if she likes u. very much a picker of favorites

-> lady prime Has Kids

the egg is here. its like a bad guy or smth doesnt have kids or anything but does possess ppl

@thenerdistrying pspspspsps give me ur takes

#pjo dsmp au #my thots #philza #technoblade #mumza goddess of death #drista #dreamxd #foolish #herobrine #gnf #schlatt #i wont tag my beloved bc this isnt abt the game mc so #church prime #the egg #tell me the name of god au

[advanced-knocking]

pspspspsps rqg fandom, how do you feel about some angsty wilde?

A Mark and a Song

Summary:

Only the highest in the ranks of Meritocratic field agents carry marks of their patron- a small tattoo of a dragon that can fly across their body.

Some regard it as a symbol of pride and importance. Some think it will hurt them if they commit treason, a myth obviously never proven.

Oscar keeps his mark close to his chest and doesn't think much about it.

Until it starts hurting

#rqg #rusty quill gaming #this is my first ever multichapter fanfic #will update this every day now #do you ever just take a thing that is said in one sentence in an outdated summary of the world and then just run away with it? #it's never even mentioned in the damn show

[halfgclden]

Anytime | Graves&Cleo (& L)

Date: May 9th, 2020

Summary: Graves needs physical and spiritual healing after Fight Night. That is provided by a child of Apollo and a child of Dionysus respectively.

The sun had just begun to set as Graves had walked up to the Apollo cabin and lightly knocked on the door. The cabin almost seemed to be surrounded by a faint gold aura; whether that was from the setting sun or a result of the cabin's patron, Graves wasn't sure but he loved it all the same.  He rubbed his shoulder, waiting for the door to open and thought about the events of the weekend thus far. The third round of 'fight night' had concluded a few hours ago, and though he hadn't won, Cam had had the time of his life. Now, showered and dressed, with the last of an ambrosia high leaving his system, he had texted L, requesting their healing expertise before he set out on the excursion he had in mind for that night. He knocked again, just in case his first attempt had been inaudible. "Hey, it's Graves."

L answered the door after the second knock, having to step over a sleeping dog to get to it. They'd spent the earlier part of the evening with their girlfriends in celebration, but they told them that they'd go to their cabin for an hour and then reconvene, in order to give people time to stop by and get any healing that they needed. They flashed a smile at Graves and stepped back so that he could step in, shoving a cat back with their foot as they did. "Hey! How's the shoulder doing?"

Graves' face lit up into a smile, first at the sight of L, then at the hairless cat trying to sneak around their leg to greet him. "George Caramel! Hey kitty!" He made the pspspspsps sound in the direction of the feline before stepping into the cabin. "Hey, long time no see," he joked. "It's doin' alright. Miranda demanded I get it checked out or - and this is a direct quote - juro que haré que te arrepientas por el resto de tu vida. I'm not entirely positive on what she said but it sounded violent. And so, here I am, at your doorstep, beggin' for your magic touch.” Graves grinned at L, "Would you be able to help me?"

L closed the door behind Graves and turned to see their cat, up on his hind legs, staring at Graves because of the sound he was making. “I don’t know what that means, but it sounds ominous, so I’ll heal you right up!” They grinned. “Do you want to sit for it? Or are you in a hurry? It’ll take, like, a minute, tops. I told my geefs I wouldn’t wear myself our before we went hard tonight.” L blinked. “Went hard in celebration,” they clarified.

"I'm headed somewhere but I'm not in a hurry. Sittin' works." Graves blinked for a second, then L's explanation sunk in and he chuckled. "Of course, don't tire yourself out on my account. Rosie would kill me." He turned to find a suitable place to take a seat. "What do I have to do?"

L took a seat on the arm of the couch and beckoned Graves over. “You don’t need to do anything, just sit there and look pretty.” They smiled. “You’re gonna feel really warm, then kinda sore, but you’ll maybe be able to move it once I’m done with you. Have you had any ambrosia yet?”

He made his way to the couch and took a seat next to L. "Lookin' pretty is my specialty," Graves smiled. His face was still bruised from the previous night's fighting but a few doses of ambrosia had healed up the cuts on his face fairly well. "I'm always warm, so I'm prepared. Yeah, Miranda made me take some right after we finished the round earlier. I feel great!"

“I know,” L said affectionately as they pat his head. “And yeah, you should have that moving real soon, but make sure you actually come to me every day until I tell you to stop.” They wagged a finger at him. “Not just when you feel okay, because then you might aggravate it and get muscle damage and I really don’t want to have to deal with that.” They pressed a hand into his shoulder and let the warmth pass from them into his arm, muttering a small prayer to Apollo as they did.

Graves looked chastised for a moment; if not for Miranda and L, he probably would've accidentally injured himself further. "I'm really not tryin' to damage any muscles so I'll be back tomorrow," he promised, closing his eyes as he felt the warmth emanating from L's hand. When it stopped, he was tempted to poke his shoulder and test how it felt. Instead, he looked at L. "Am I good to go, Nurse L?"

L nodded, happy that Graves was following their advice. They went from their stern, nurse face to their usual sunny one. After a moment, they pulled their hand away, feeling a bit tired but not fully drained. “Yeah, I’m gonna hold out a bit on ya in case someone else comes by, but make sure you do your best not to move it much, at least not until you see me tomorrow.”

"I'll be careful, swear." He stood and gave L a one-armed hug. "Thank you, thank you! You're amazin', you're wonderful, you're a ray of sunshine! Make sure you eat somethin', keep up your energy!" Graves moved to the door, stopping to wave goodbye to another one of L's cats on his way out. "See you tomorrow! Don't go too hard tonight!" He laughed and slipped out the door.

⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠  

Cleo sat in her room, playing music as she painted her nails. She sang along under her breath, blowing on her left hand as she painted the right. Between each nail, she took a moment to spin and dance around the room, changing each song just before it ended. She hadn’t thought that she was playing it very loudly, but she also didn’t notice any knocking until she was very sure that there was knocking, and she ran out to go check the door, opening it carefully so as not to smudge her nails. “Cam.” She smiled for but a moment before her face dropped, taking in his cut up face and shoulder in a sling. “What happened?” She stepped back to let him in.

Graves couldn't help but laugh; here he was, standing outside the Dionysus cabin on a whim, just knocking repeatedly. He tried not to feel too ridiculous; he wasn't even positive if the person he was looking for was here. Then again, he could hear music blasting inside and from the sound of it, she was. Graves was torn between keeping his arrival a surprise or sending Cleo a text to let him in already. When she opened the door and her expression turned to one of worry, Cam's smile faltered but only for a second before he beamed at her brightly. "Bancroft, hey." He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "Oh this?" He asked, looking at his immobilized arm as if seeing it for the first time. "I forgot to bring my good luck charm to fight night apparently."

“My gods.” Cleo exhaled a breath and raised her hand as though to touch him, then dropped it again. “I should have figured you went to that stupid thing.” She’d heard about the fight night, but being that she wasn’t a fighter, none of her friends were going, and she didn’t want to see people get maimed, she hadn’t gone herself. Zoe mentioned that there was a second part to it earlier in the day, but she took the time to herself instead, which meant that she missed out on whatever it was that caused Cameron his scuffled appearance. “Are you okay?” She drew her brows together and watched him.

He watched Cleo's hand hover for a moment before she dropped it. Graves' fingers twitched, almost tempted to- he sent the thought away, raising an eyebrow instead. "Woah, hey. It wasn't stupid, it was actually a lot of fun." Graves ran his fingers through his hair, noticing the concern etched into her features. He tried to lighten the mood, "I'm better now." He winked at her with his blackened eye.

Cleo crossed her arms, thankful that Len was at a sleepover and not watching their sister lecture a half-beaten boy in their cabin. "Just because it was fun does not negate the fact that it was stupid, Cam." She frowned at him, though she didn't see anything that she could do for him. "Do you want ice? Have you been to the healers?"

"C'mon Bancroft, I don't look that bad, do I?" A small voice in his head told him that yes, he looked like hell and should go home and rest but he was already here. It would take a little more than a frown from Cleo to send him home right now. "I stopped by the Apollo cabin on my way here." Graves chewed his lip, trying not to smile as she told him off. "Okay, maybe it was a little stupid. Was showing up here also stupid?"

Cleo wiped her hands down her face and sighed. "Ugh, Cameron, you look hurt." She looked back at him, pouting slightly, taking in the bruises that lined his jaw and collarbone. If she was honest, it was the sling that was the worrying part, and had he just shown up with a few cuts and bruises she probably would've stopped lecturing him after she made sure he was okay. She pursed her lips and took his left hand, sighing as she noticed bruising there too. "No, it wasn't stupid. I can't really do much for you." She pulled him towards the kitchen. "But I always have ice. Or at the very least something cold to press to a black eye."

Graves scrunched his nose and frowned, seeing Cleo's expression shift into a pout as she took in all his bruises. "It, um, it's not that bad. Looks a lot worse than it is, swear." He exhaled through his nose when she took his hand and watched her examine the bruises on his knuckles with her slender fingers. Graves let himself be pulled towards the kitchen; it took a moment for her words to sink in. "Oh, Bancroft, no no. I didn't- I didn't come for ice. I just came to see you." He offered her a soft smile.

Cleo looked up at Graves when he spoke and squinted at him slightly, biting her lip. She shook her head at him but couldn’t help but smile at his words. “You’re so...” She didn’t really know how to finish the sentence. She dropped his hand so that she could tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear and move to her fridge. “Well, you’re getting both. Did you want anything to drink?” She opened the freezer and pulled out a half-empty ice tray.

He quirked an eyebrow at Cleo, wondering how that sentence might have ended. But she dropped it, and his hand, so he let it be. “Both is good,” Graves laughed. “And um, water would be great. Thanks.”

Cleo grabbed a hand towel and dumped the ice into it, then handed the bundle over to him. She took two remaining cubes of ice and put them in a glass, then filled it with water from the sink. She frowned when she realized he couldn’t hold both the ice pack and the water. “Okay, I can... ice your face while you drink?”

Graves held out his hand to accept the bundle of ice from Cleo but faltered, realizing she had a point. “Hmm, uh, yeah. That works, hang on.” He hopped onto the counter with surprising grace for someone with his injuries. Graves flashed Cleo a cocky grin and tapped his ring against the edge of the counter. “Lucky jump.”

Cleo opened and closed her mouth, somewhat incredulously, when Graves jumped onto the counter. She shook her head. "Now you're gonna have to bend down more for me to ice your face, doofus." She rolled her eyes at him, but smiled and stood in front of him. She held out the water. "How'd you break your arm?"

“Didn’t think of that, oops.” He clicked his tongue, then leaned down enough to make it easier for Cleo to reach his face. Graves accepted the glass of water and took a sip. He shook his head, his smile rueful. “Not broken. I...dislocated my shoulder.”

She pressed the makeshift ice pack into his jaw carefully and frowned, sucking in a breath sympathetically. "Should I ice that instead? Is that what you're supposed to do for it?"

Graves closed his eyes as Cleo pressed the ice to his jaw, feeling the chill spread. “No no, L worked their magic on it right before I got here and I’m still cruisin’ from some ambrosia earlier. I just have to try not to move it, hence the sling. Really, Bancroft, I’m okay. You’re lookin’ at me like I might fall apart.”

Cleo huffed. "I wouldn't be looking at you like that if you didn't come to me in pieces." She shook her head and chewed her lip, raising one shoulder in a small shrug. "But, you know, you're tougher than I realize, I guess." She pursed her lips again. "Who'd you fight?"

Graves was about to protest that he wasn't in pieces anymore; Ime had seen to that when they'd popped his shoulder back in. He wrinkled his nose at the memory. "You think I'm tough?" His face lit up in a goofy smile, but he tried to play it cool. "That's good. You're right. I am." He tried not to move too much while Cleo was icing his jaw, but found he was having a hard time sitting still. He set his glass down beside him and started tapping the edge of the counter with his hand. "First round, Rosie. She climbed me like a fuckin' monkey, I threw her off the platform. Second round, Ramona and Tai. Blue and I were a team. It was a heated fight." He wondered if Cleo had heard anything about fight night and would disapprove of his word choice. "My shoulder was from fightin' Tai. Not his fault though! He got me good, I dropped my sword, I fell and landed....wrong."

"Of course I think you're tough." Cleo shook her head and resisted the urge to roll her eyes again. "Coming to me with a busted arm and jaw. The bruised knuckles are what really drove me from feeling bad to being impressed, though, honestly." She smiled at him softly and then looked to his hand, tapping against the counter. "That's... a lot of people." She tilted her head and grimaced. "Fell so wrong it took your arm out? That's disgusting, Cam."

"Impressed, huh?" Graves bit his lip, suppressing an even larger smile. "Maybe I have to win fights more often," he mused, deciding not to mention he technically hadn't won last night's fight. "I'd say I wish you were there, so you could've seen the action but...yeah, gods." He shook his head. "Fuck, Bancroft. I fell very wrong. The sound..." Graves winced. "Shoulders should not sound like that. I'm glad you didn't hear it. Or hear me when it happened." He looked away, suddenly fascinated with a vine on the wall.

Cleo dipped her head as she shook it again. "Gods, you're just..." She sighed and didn't finish her sentence again, then looked back up at him, scrunching her face in disgust. "Oh, gods, ew. Please don't tell me any more about it." She frowned, then rested a hand on his knee. "I'm really glad you're okay."

Cleo's growing habit of leaving her sentences unfinished was only making Graves more and more curious about those unsaid words. But she didn't offer them up, and again he didn't ask. He stopped tapping on the counter to hold his hand up in surrender. "I won't, you don't want to hear them. I don't want to have heard it," he tried to joke. Graves' eyes flickered down to her hand on his knee. "Bancroft, you worried about me?"

Cleo stuck out her lower lip a bit. "If you have a less scary fight, tell me about it, and maybe I'll come. I've never seen you in action." She smiled and shook her head again. "Um, duh? Wouldn't you be worried if your friend showed up to your doorstep unannounced with a black eye and a cast?"

"Next time, maybe." He winked at her. "Ah, we'll have to change that. Did you know I fight with two swords? I don't know if I ever mentioned it. It's fuckin' fun. Okay, if you put it like that, I guess I'd be a little worried." Graves gave Cleo's hand a little squeeze and smiled, before tapping a rhythm with his ring this time. "And if you showed up on my doorstep like that, I'd ask who's ass I needed to kick."

Cleo smiled slightly, tapping his knee lightly with her fingers. “I think you’ve mentioned them before, and I’m pretty sure I was as impressed by the idea of the visual as I am now.” She looked down at their hands, watching his as he tapped his rings against her counter. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever asked what prompted the skull on his hand, but was pretty sure that it was something along the lines of ‘it was fucking cool’, as his others were. She smiled and shook her head. “I won’t show up on your doorstep like that.” Cleo didn’t get into many physical fights, if any at all, and if she did get into one, it was likely not going to be someone who’s ass Graves would be willing to kick.

Graves pressed his lips together; he assumed that the only altercations Cleo might get in were ones he really should stay out of, so he changed the subject. "Did I tell you that my swords are my rings?" Graves held his hand out for Cleo's inspection. He'd caught her looking at his hands often enough; whether she was looking at his assortment of jewelry or the tattoo on his left hand, he could never be sure. He leaned closer, resting his forehead on hers. "The ones I wear on my middle fingers," he explained.

Cleo kept watching his hand as he raised his, biting her lip as she picked up the hand not pressed against the slowly melting ice pack. She shook her head slowly. “I didn’t know that,” she said, lowering her voice. Something about the proximity made her feel less as though she had to compete with the music still playing in her room for volume. She glanced up again as his forehead met hers and swallowed. “You’re always prepared to fight, then? I never see you without them.” Water slid down her arm and she looked at the bundle, then put it down on the counter at his side, doing her best not to break contact with him.

He hummed softly, watching Cleo take his hand in her own for the second time that night. "They're enchanted. I can't lose them. So I guess, yes. Can't ever be caught without a way to defend myself." He glanced at the bundle of melted ice on the counter next to him. Graves could feel a few drops of water lazily trailing along his jaw and down his neck. He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, staying as still as he could.

She ran her thumb over his knuckles as softly as she could, resting it against his ring. “They’re really pretty, so it’s nice that you don’t lose them,” she murmured. Cleo looked up, scanning his face as he closed his eyes, then reached up to brush the water from his neck. “Oh, you have...”

"They were a gift," he said, his voice low. Graves' eyes were still closed, unaware of her movement. When Cleo's fingers brushed his neck, he jolted back in surprise, knocking the glass of water over in the process. As water poured over the edge of the counter, it seemed as if a spell had been broken. Graves grimaced, "Sorry, I'll clean that up." He moved to hop off the counter, looking embarrassed and feeling strange.

Cleo moved back with a start when Gaves jolted, shocked by the sudden movement. She shook her head and grabbed another hand towel to wipe up the spill. "No, don't worry about it, I shouldn't have..." She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and put the towel down on the counter. "Did you, um, want something to eat? I have a few snacks."

Graves moved for the hand towel the same time Cleo did and their hands bumped together. “Sorry,” he repeated, feeling heat rise on his cheeks. He leaned against the counter, pondering food options. “You’re hungry? You’ve got a snack right here.” He flicked his eyebrows upward, looking at Cleo playfully.

Cleo picked up the half-melted ice bundle as well and tossed it into her sink as she laughed, shaking her head at him. Even still, she let her eyes scan over him, noting where his cropped shirt ended and his midriff began. She bit her lip, then looked up, meeting his eyes instead of staring at his torso. "Shut up. I'm surprised you didn't call yourself a meal."

"Is that your way of callin' me one?" He watched Cleo's eyes sweep over his body, catching at the hem of his shirt. Graves ran his thumb over his bottom lip, trying to hide a smile. He met her gaze and held it, expression saying caught you.

Cleo pressed her lips together and shook her head at Graves, blushing slightly. "Um, no. I was just saying that that's something you'd say." She shook her head and went back to occupying herself with wiping up the spill again, though it was already mostly soaked up by the towel.

Graves' smile widened, "Well, y'would've been right. I am a meal. But, uh, if you're actually hungry, yeah I could eat. I think you've got all the water, ma'am." He took a step closer to Cleo and was about to place his hand on her arm but thought better of it.

Cleo looked up at Graves and set her jaw, dropping the towel into the sink next to the other one. "I'm not too hungry, I was just offering because I don't know what else to do," she admitted with a laugh. She pressed her hand to her forehead and shook her head. "Um, I think I have leftover dumplings and then, like, Redvines? I have a stash of mini Snickers too, but I'll only let you take one, two if you're really nice."

"I'd take a Redvine, if you're willin' to part with them. I'll let you keep your Snickers, because I'm that nice. And I don't...really know what else to do either," Graves smiled slightly before looking away. "We could..." He mused. "Stand here and talk about how stupid I am for signin' up for fight night. Or watch a movie. Or sing along to whatever you were listening to. Or I could tell you how cute your pajamas are. Or go for a walk. Any of those sound appealin', Bancroft?"

Cleo laughed quietly. "A single Redvine? How polite." She smiled, looking down at herself when he commented on her pajamas, then looked back up at him, taking a step forward, but leaned against the counter. "I would like nothing more than to sing along to music or go for a walk right now."

Graves gave a little half-shrug, the best he could do right now. Still, he winced a little and grit his teeth to hide it. He raised an eyebrow as she stepped closer, leaning casually into the conversation. "Walk first? Dramatic karaoke after?"

Cleo reached into her cabinet and grabbed a pack of Redvines, then held one out to Graves, and took two for herself. "Sounds amazing. I should probably shut my music off first, unless it makes people think I'm home, keeps me from getting robbed."

Accepting the Redvine from Cleo, Graves laughed. "I doubt you'll get robbed. Maybe the music will drive people away." He took a bite of the candy, smiling innocently.

Cleo chewed her candy and shrugged one shoulder at Graves. "It's a good strategy, no?" She laughed and took his good hand carefully. "Where do you want to walk to? Woods, beach, lake?"

"An excellent strategy. You claim to know every inch of the woods, if I recall correctly." He finished his Redvine, letting Cleo take his hand. He ran his thumb over her hand. "I'm ready when you are. You can borrow my flannel if you're not warm enough."

"Every inch," Cleo repeated incredulously as she rolled her eyes, still smiling. "I know the woods super well, yeah, so I can acquaint you with it." She looked down at his hand, then to the flannel at his waist, and then back up to him. "Would you need a sweater from me then?"

Graves couldn't help but grin as Cleo rolled her eyes. His gaze drifted down to their hands, fingers laced together. The flowers inked on her skin caught his eye and he tried to trace the one on her thumb. He looked up, "Oh, no. Thanks, but I run warm. I'll be okay."

Cleo kept an eye on their hands, looking up so that she could smile at him. "Fine, then we should go, because I'm okay too." She tugged him slightly as she led them out of her kitchen, but dropped his hand so that she could run into her room and turn off her music. "I don't want my speaker to die," she explained as she returned to his side.

He tilted his head, waiting for Cleo to reappear from her room. "Makes sense," Graves nodded. He held out his hand, almost shyly, for her to take. "Lead the way, Bancroft."

Cleo took his hand, not really expecting him to offer his hand up when she returned. She led him out of the cabin and into the twilight. She inhaled and closed her eyes, smiling. "This is my favourite time of day. Dusk."

Graves followed Cleo outside, looking up at the sky. "I think I like golden hour best. But this is real decent." He smiled, letting her pull him onto a path that led to the woods. "D'you spend a lot of time out here?"

“How else do you think I know every inch?” Cleo asked with a smile. She ran her thumb over Graves’s knuckles softly. “You spend more time at the lava wall than in the woods?”

“Ah, duh. Stupid question.” He mentally smacked himself and hoped he wasn’t blushing in embarrassment. He flicked his eyes down at their hands, watching Cleo run her thumb over his knuckles. Graves trusted her to lead him while he wasn’t paying attention, knowing she wouldn’t let him trip or fall. “I spend more time at the lake or river I think. Although you know I love the lava wall.”

Cleo smiled at him, then pulled him off of the path to a section of trees that were fairly close together. There was a sort of man-made path there, only indicated by the trampled grass and other markers, if you looked closely. “Always need to be close to the water?”

Graves couldn’t tell where they were going on the fading light but Cleo moved with such ease, it was clear she’d walked this trail often. He stepped over a raised tree root, careful not to trip. “Mhm, yeah. I always feel more grounded when I can hear the waves.” He avoided another root. “Ma’am where are you taking me?”

Cleo walked slowly, aware of the fact that Graves wasn't as used to this part of the woods as she was. "Ah." She nodded in understanding. "Ocean boy." She flashed a small smile at him. "Do you like surprises?"

“Bancroft. Who doesn’t like surprises?” He tapped her knuckles with his thumb. “Of course I do. I’m just impatient is all.”

Cleo laughed and pulled him further into the forest, past gnarled roots, which she stepped over carefully, and around large trees, which she skirted around. She obviously knew this path well, with the way she was walking it in the fading light, and she pointed out a few tricky spots to get over to Graves. Eventually, they emerged into a clearing, which was fairly well-lit, due to the clear sky and waning but near-full moon. Fireflies dotted the clearing, and floated in patterns around the center of it. As they stepped out, Cleo smiled up at Graves. "Surprise?"

Graves felt like they’d stepped into the labyrinth with all the twists and turns their path took. With help from Cleo, he managed not to stumble at all on their way to the clearing. When they stepped into the open, Graves blinked in surprise, his eyes adjusting to the light. The moon was big and the sky glittered with stars. “Woah...this, this is awesome.” He let go of Cleo’s hand, reaching out to catch a firefly. With a soft smile, Graves held his hand out to her, firefly faintly glowing in his palm.

Cleo beamed at him, happy that he seemed so pleased with their destination. She stepped further into the clearing as he let go of her hand, but turned so that she was still facing him. "Gods, I remember when I first found this place. I thought it was, like, enchanted or something. Now I know it is."

The firefly took off, light flickering as it left Graves’ palm. He took a few steps forward, following Cleo into the heart of the clearing. “Enchanted?” He asked. He held out his hand, trying to scoop another firefly out of the air.

Cleo caught a firefly and opened her hands to examine the blinking bug. "Yeah. Isn't it magical? I legitimately thought these were, like, floating lights or fairies or something."

"I love that," Graves said. He looked over at Cleo, grinning proudly to show her the two fireflies he'd caught. "I definitely thought fireflies were fairies as a kid." He took another step towards her before moving to sit in the grass. He patted the spot next to him, looking up at her.

Cleo grinned approvingly at Graves's catch, then took a seat next to him. "I was fourteen, but I'd never seen them before, so that's my excuse."

Graves stuck his tongue out at Cleo. "I grew up hearing all these wild stories about gods and monsters and prophecies from my grandma. That is my excuse." He leaned back in the grass, propping himself up with his good arm and looked up at the sky. "The stars are so bright," he said quietly.

Cleo laughed. "I wasn't making fun of you! I was just saying I wasn't a kid. Or, I guess I was. Fourteen is still a kid." She tipped her head back and leaned back on her hands, then her elbows. "Yeah. The moon was full two nights ago."

He scooted a little closer to Cleo, then laid down fully, the soft ground comfortable beneath his back. Graves raised his arm, pointing to a cluster of stars in the sky. "There's the Big Dipper," he smiled.

Cleo smiled as she noticed him move closer, then laid down fully. She moved his arm over so that he was pointing elsewhere in the sky. "And there's Orion."

Keeping their hands together, Graves steered their pointed fingers to another constellation. He squinted. "That's Leo." He turned his head to look at Cleo, "Do you have a favorite?"

Cleo smiled as her hand was taken in Graves’s and turned her head to look at him. “Gemini.” She watched him through blades of grass. “I like the story. What about you?”

"Draco. I've always liked the story too." He looked back up at the sky and sighed contentedly. "I didn't expect my day to go like this."

"Do you like dragons?" Cleo felt her arm growing tired but did not want to let go of his hand, and left it. She watched him as he watched the sky. "How were you expecting it to go?"

“Who doesn’t like dragons? They’re so cool. I can’t believe they’re real, honestly. The gods? No problem. Dragons? Mind-blowing.” Graves pointed out another constellation, the Big Dipper, before lowering his arm. He didn’t let go of Cleo’s hand, resting their arms in the grass between them. “I don’t know. No brainer that I lost round 3 today, like this. But I didn’t even know if you’d be home. Or want to hang out, I just kinda, showed up.” He laughed a little.

Cleo laughed. “Was that a byproduct of being raised by a psychic? Like, ‘oh yeah, gods and that– wait, did you say dragons?’” She smiled and looked up finally as he lowered their hands. “The fact that you even competed is impressive, honestly.” She scanned the sky, almost in disbelief of how clear the night was. “Why wouldn’t I want to hang out?” She turned to look at him again, running her thumb over the back of his hand. “I’m glad you showed up.”

Graves smiled, shaking his head slightly. "Maybe. My gran used to tell me the craziest stories." His smile widened, and he bumped her shoulder gently, moving a little closer to her. "Impressive, mhm. That's twice tonight you've said that." He turned his head to look and Cleo and winked before looking back up at the sky. "I dunno, maybe you had other plans." He laughed. Graves turned to look at her again, running his thumb over her hand as well, "I'm glad you brought me here."

Cleo looked at him again when he bumped her shoulder and smiled at him. "Keeping track? Should I say it more?" She laughed. "Am I lame for not doing anything but sit in my room doing my nails on a Saturday night?" She smiled and checked the hand that wasn't holding Graves's. The polish was smudged, but she didn't care. She dropped her hand again and turned onto her side, facing him. "I'm glad too. This is one of my favourite places in the world."

"Actually, you've said it three times, but one of them you were referrin' to my swords so..." He gave her hand a little squeeze then rolled onto his side to face her. "Y'can say it as many time as you like. Nah, nah that's not lame at all. Maybe I should paint my nails." Graves laughed a little. "In the world? And you brought me here?" He raised an eyebrow at Cleo, teasing her.

Cleo smiled as Graves turned to face her. “Maybe I won’t say it at all, now that I know you like it so much.” She glanced down, as though she would be able to see his hand in the dim lighting, then looked back up. “I can do your nails for you. Not now, obvi, but sometime.” She pressed her cheek into the earth, obscuring her face slightly behind the grass. “Yeah, but only because you looked so hapless. I guess I won’t make a habit of it, if you don’t like it.”

Graves exhaled through his nose. "I knew I shouldn't've said a thing." He peered at Cleo through the blades of grass between them. "That would be fun. I could...try to do yours? No promises on how they turn out." He scoffed. "Hapless?" He shook his head. "Nah, nah I love it. I could come here every day and it would be just as enchanting."

Cleo found that she had a hard time not smiling at him. "Maybe so." She ran her thumb over his. "I'd like that. Maybe it's your hidden talent." She moved her legs so that her knee was against his. "Yeah, like, you look all sad and unfortunate, so I needed to take you somewhere to cheer you up." She smiled somehow wider and turned her head to try to look up out of the clearing at the stars again. "Yeah," she exhaled the word with a breath. "It's... near perfect. Maybe just perfect."

"Yeah," he snorted. "With my luck, it might be." Graves was very aware of Cleo's knee pressed against his; he edged a little closer, pressing more of his leg against her own. Reluctantly, he let go of her hand and propped himself up on his elbow, trying to get more comfortable. He rested the side of his head in his hand and studied Cleo's face as she looked at the stars, a faint smile on his lips. A lock of hair was curled against her neck and Graves wished his arm wasn't in a sling, wished that he could reach out and tuck her hair behind her ear. He blinked a few times and swallowed, surprised at himself, then glanced up at the sky. "Near perfect?" Graves turned to look at Cleo, a gleam in his eye. His voice was low as he spoke. "And how, ma'am, can I make this night perfect?"

"With your luck." Cleo smiled. "You're saying that like you aren't lucky. Aren't you supposed to be my good luck charm? If you're defective, I might have to send you back." When he let go of her hand, she turned over a bit more, resting her hand on her stomach as she scanned over constellations. As he spoke, she looked at him again, then propped herself up on an elbow to bring herself to his level. She smiled slightly, somewhat sadly, and reached out to brush her fingertips over his cheek, down across his jaw, then dropped her hand. "Don't be so hurt?" She sighed and then sat up, tilting her head back to observe the sky fully. "Bring me back to Portland?"

"Dislocated shoulder certainly sounds defective, you better ship me back," he joked. Graves closed his eyes, exhaling softly as he felt Cleo's fingertips on his jaw. He tilted his head into her touch without realizing it, but as quickly as her touch had come, it was gone. "Bancroft..." he breathed, but even as he started his sentence, he knew it had no end. He opened his eyes and frowned a little as she leaned away, then looked up at the sky again. Graves found the moon and focused on it, trying to ground himself. "I'll be better in a few days. L said I can probably use my arm again by the weekend. It's not too bad." He glanced at Cleo before looking back at the moon. "I would drive you to Portland if you really wanted. You miss it?"

When Graves said her name, Cleo glanced back over to him, but it didn’t look as though he had any intention of finishing his sentence. She wrapped her arms around her bare legs, suddenly noticing that she was cold out in the woods in pajama shorts and a big shirt. “That’s good,” she said as she looked back at him, happy that magic would be able to help her friend. She rested her chin on her knees. “Yeah,” she confirmed with a small sigh. “A drive might be pretty long though.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Graves saw Cleo wrap her arms around herself and he realized she was cold. Without much difficulty, he pushed himself into a sitting position and untied the flannel from around his waist with his good hand. "Hey, here. Put this on," he held it out to her before turning back to the sky. His eyes fell on the mermaid on her leg and Graves quickly looked away. "Yeah," he nodded, in response to her earlier comment. "I can't wait to be out of this sling. And it would be a long drive, but who doesn't like a roadtrip?" He drew his knees up to his chest and rested his chin on them, looking at Cleo again. "Are you warm enough now?"

Cleo noticed the movement behind her, but didn’t turn around until he was holding his flannel out for her. She accepted it with a soft smile and pulled it on, noticing his glance at her leg, but choosing not to comment on it. “Do you like me enough to go on a roadtrip with me?” she teased, then pulled her shirt up a bit so that she could shove her knees into it. “Um, yeah. Are you?”

"Fuck no, Bancroft. I'd get sick of you after a day." Graves stuck his tongue out at Cleo and laughed lightly, making sure she knew he was teasing as well. When she tucked her knees into her shirt, his playful expression turned soft. He scrubbed his face with his hand, mumbling, "oh my gods." He shook his head. "Huh? Oh yeah, I run warm. I'm like a furnace. See?" He held out his arm to her.

“A day?” Cleo asked, somewhat incredulous as she laughed. She tilted her head at him when he rubbed his face, then rested her cheek on her knees. “What?” She scooted a bit closer to him and took his hand, then pressed it to her cheek. “Very warm. Why do boys run so hot?”

"Nah, I take it back. Maybe after a week." He smiled, then shook his head before burying his face in his knees. "You're adorable Bancroft," Graves' voice came out muffled. He didn't raise his head until she took his hand. His bashful expression was gone, replaced with a cocky grin. He arched an eyebrow. "I don't know about other boys, but I run hot because I am hot." He winked.

“Okay, a week I can work with.” She laughed, then bit her lip when he called her adorable. Cleo felt the heat in her cheeks begin to rise slightly, but didn’t drop his hand until after she turned her face and kissed his palm. “You’re the one who says things like ‘ma’am’ and gives me his sweater.” She exhaled a small laugh. “Let’s go with that. So can you be my good luck charm and my personal space heater?”

Graves was surprised when Cleo kissed his palm, the feel of her lips sending a shiver across his skin. It took everything he had to keep his expression neutral as she dropped his hand. He fidgeted with the cropped hem of his shirt. "I was raised in the south! 'Course I say 'ma'am'." He shook his head, exhaling. "I'll always offer you my sweater when you're cold, Bancroft." The way he said it, it sounded like a promise. He held his arm out and nodded his head with a laugh. "Yeah, I think I can do that. C'mere."

Cleo let her eyes drop to his midriff again and she balled her hands around the fabric of his sweater, letting the sleeves cover her hands. She smiled, looking back up at his face. "And that makes you adorable, Cameron." She hadn't expected him to offer her a hug, but she tried to scoot over when he held his arm out. With the way her legs were tucked into her shirt, she ended up flopping over next to him instead, and looked up at him, laughing. "Oh my gods." She wiggled her legs free and then sat up again, this time to lean against him. "This is amazing. I'm hijacking your heat."

Normally, Graves would’ve protested at being called ‘adorable’ but between the sight of Cleo wrapped in his too-large flannel and the glances she kept stealing at him as if he wouldn’t notice, he found that he didn’t really mind. When Cleo toppled over, he put his hand out to help her back up, laughing. He pulled her into his side and after a moment, rested his head on hers. “Take as much of it as you need, I’ve got warmth to spare.”

Cleo wiggled ever closer to Graves, resting her head back against his shoulder. She pulled her hands out from the sleeves finally and pressed one up his shirt, against his back, partially for the shock, but also to see if he was being serious about letting her take as much heat as she wanted. "What if I need it all?"

Graves jolted when Cleo pressed her icy hand against his back, his eyes wide. He never thought someone’s hands could get so cold. “Oh my gods! Bancroft!” He laughed, dodging to the side to escape the chill of her touch. He leaned a little too far to the right, and without his arm to steady himself, started to fall over. “Shit!” He twisted, tipping backwards with a laugh and pulling Cleo down into the grass with him. “How are you that cold?”

Cleo squeaked as she fell beside Graves, but laughed once she was on the ground. “Um, because I’m not wearing pants out in the middle of the woods? You should feel my legs right now, I sure can’t.” She sighed and rolled over to look at the sky again. “Speaking of, I know we haven’t been here long, but would you mind if we headed back to camp soon? Before I turn into a human icicle.”

"Shit, if your hands are that cold, I bet your legs are freezing. I can't have a Croftsicle on my hands." Graves slowly climbed to his feet and reached his hand out to help Cleo up. "C'mon, let's get you home before you're frozen solid. I can't carry you right now," he laughed and flashed her a grin.

Cleo laughed and pushed herself up, taking his hand once she was sitting, and not dropping it once she was standing. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you tried, honestly.” She smiled back at him and pulled him back the way they came, pulling out her phone to use the flashlight this time.

Graves followed Cleo down the path back to the cabins. “I’d be lyin’ if I said I didn’t think about tryin’.” He smiled, even though she couldn’t see that he had, and gave her hand a squeeze. “I promised L I wouldn’t do anythin’ that could make my shoulder worse though.” His foot caught on a tree root and he stumbled for a second but quickly righted himself.(edited)

“You dope,” Cleo chastised with a shake of her head, clearly amused. She squeezed his hand back when he almost fell, stopping so that she might be able to help him up. “Oh my gods. You’re gonna have L find me and kill me herself if you fall.” She slowed down a bit so that they could step over roots and branches more easily, eventually finding themselves back out on the path. Once back to her cabin, she kissed his knuckles before dropping his hand so that she could unlock and open the door. “Did you leave anything inside?”

"I'll be fine, I'm fine! L won't come hunt you down," Graves swallowed a laugh, being extra careful not to trip for the remainder of their walk. He bit his lip as Cleo kissed his knuckles, looking away, trying to hide the smile tugging at his the corner of his lips. He looked back at her as she opened the door. "Hmm, I can't remember what I had, other than my flannel."

Cleo tilted her head as she smiled at him and stepped inside. "Huh, that's funny. I don't remember you having a flannel at all."

He stepped inside, right behind her and caught her hand. A grin was plastered to his face. "Ma'am, am I, the son of the god of thieves, bein' robbed right now?"

Cleo turned to look at Graves, grinning mischievously. "Are you? That'd be such a shame."

Graves tugged on Cleo’s hand, pulling her closer. He raised an eyebrow. “That’d be a damn shame, considering that’s my favorite flannel.”

"Oh my gods," Cleo smiled up at Graves as she was pulled in. "You lost your favourite flannel? That's so sad."

“Heartbreakin', really.” He couldn’t stop smiling at her.

"Heartbreaking?" Cleo asked dramatically, touching her hand to her cheek as she gasped softly. "What will we ever do about this?"

"Heartbreakin'," Graves repeated, his expression mournful. He squeezed her hand then tilted his head. "Did you hear that? That, darlin', was the sound of my heart, just shatterin'. It's in a million pieces now." He looked at her with his best puppy dog eyes and sighed dramatically. "I don't know how I'll ever put it back together."

Cleo tried to keep up with the playful energy, but upon being called darlin’ and then immediately being flashed puppy dog eyes, she melted. “Oh my gods, Cameron, don’t look at me like that.” She laughed as she spoked, then stepped backwards, pulling him along by his hand toward her room. “I know about heartbreak, and if there’s anything that can put it back together, it’s ABBA.”

"Like what?! I don't know what you're talkin' about," he laughed, following Cleo as she pulled him into her room. Once inside, he dramatically sank to his knees, still clutching her hand. "Yes, please. I'm beggin' you, Bancroft. Put my heart back together before I just die."

“You know what I’m talking about,” Cleo scoffed. She shook her head at him, then laughed as he dropped down to his knees. “You, Cameron middle name Graves, are too much.” She laughed and pulled her hand free to grab her phone, then pulled up the ABBA radio, put it on shuffle, and pressed a hand to her chest as SOS began to play. She reached for him dramatically and then put a hand to her head as though feeling faint, acting out the lyrics.

"Alexander," he offered simply. Still on his knees, Graves looked up as Cleo put on some music. He ran his hand through his hair and smirked at her, "Cameron Alexander Graves. For future reference." When she began to sing, his expression morphed into one of delight and he burst into laughter, reaching for her just as dramatically.

“Okay,” Cleo answered. “Cameron Alexander Graves, you are too much.” She grabbed his cheeks. “So when you’re near me, darling can’t you hear me S.O.S” She laughed as she sang and then backed up. “Do you not know this song? Should I change it to another?”

Graves smiled and his nose crinkled as Cleo grabbed his face. He watched her act out the performance, his smile growing as she sang to him. "I've heard it? But I don't know the words. It's a crime, I know." He reached his hand out when she backed up to change the song, "Help me up?"

“You don’t know the words?” Cleo gasped dramatically and reached out to take his hand to help him up. “It is a crime!”

“I know this one!” Once he was on his feet, Graves dramatically clutched his heart and spun around Cleo, acting out the song as he sang. “I've been cheated by you since you know when.”

Cleo laughed at Graves's dramatization. "You should have stayed on your knees for this!" She picked up a hairbrush from her desk and sang into it as though it was a microphone.

"You prefer that?" He raised his eyebrows at her and sunk to his knees again with a smirk, still singing along. Cleo's makeshift microphone made him laugh and he stopped singing for a moment, smiling up at her.

Cleo laughed harder and touched her hand to his cheek as she sang. When the song was over, she smiled, then dropped down to her knees as well so that she could press a palm to his chest. “How’s the heart?”

"It's doin' a little better. Not quite repaired yet, though." Graves covered her hand with his own. "That thief really did a number on me, ma'am. A shame we'll never catch her."

Cleo tossed her hairbrush onto her bed and smiled at him, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “Can I do anything to help?”

"Hmm..." He dropped Cleo's hand and stood, walking over to her desk chair. Before he sat down, he tapped the flannel draped along the back of the chair and raised an eyebrow at her. It was another one of his; he recognized it immediately but didn't say a word as he their eyes met. Graves sat down in the chair and spun to face Cleo. "Serenade me some more maybe?"

As Graves stood, Cleo pretended not to notice the fact that there was another stolen flannel on her chair. She got to her feet once he was sitting and grinned at him. As the next song began, she clasped her hands. “Ugh, okay, perfect timing. This is my favourite one.” She danced around the room at the intro to Voulez-Vous. She sang along to the song and eventually rested a hand on his shoulder to sing directly to him, taking a break only to laugh.

"Your favorite? Okay, okay." He listened to the song for a moment and realization dawned; she had the title of the song tattooed on her inner elbow, Graves had seen it a few times. He watched her dance and sing along with the song, unable to keep a smile off his face. When Cleo placed her hand on his shoulder, he bit his lip to stifle a laugh and shook his head lightly. "And you say I'm too much, Bancroft."

"You are too much!" She grinned widely at him. "But that doesn't mean that I am not also too much." Cleo pressed her hand into the side of Graves's neck and took a seat on his left leg. "It makes us a good pair, yeah?"

"I- yeah," Graves faltered at her touch. He tilted his chin upward slightly, the movement automatic. "Too much, " he inhaled as she sat down. He felt his cheeks get hot and gave Cleo a curious look. "Debatable," he hummed, wrapping his arm around her waist to make sure she didn't fall if he moved. "Who's askin'?"

Cleo tilted her head at him, pleased as he moved his arm around her. She ran her thumb over his jaw. "I just did, didn't you hear me?" she joked.

Graves closed his eyes, leaning into her touch for a moment. After Cleo's comment, he tried to come up with a clever retort, but found himself to flustered to say anything at all. Not wanting to ignore her completely, Graves made a sound in acknowledgement. He opened his eyes and stared at her in a daze, chin still tilted upward, feeling her fingers trace their way across his jaw.

Cleo was glad that the music was still playing, since the moment of silence between them was enough to make her stomach flip. She lifted her hand to rest in her lap instead and looked away from him, but didn't move. "What's your favourite ABBA song?"

When Cleo dropped her hand from his jaw, a small frown flashed across Graves' face, but as quick as it had appeared, it vanished. Since she made no move to get up, he kept his arm around her waist, reclining slightly in the chair. "Hmm...'Does Your Mother Know?' is a good one. But 'Waterloo' and 'Andante' are also great." He smiled at her. "I assume your favorites are the two inked on your arms?" His gaze drifted from her eyes, across her lips, and finally arrived at the words tattooed to her inner elbows.

Cleo looked back at him as he leaned back, and rested a hand on his chest with a small smile. "Those are all amazing songs. I think they're in my top five more often than not." She turned a bit to face him as she flipped her arms out to show them off, as though they were visible under the flannel she was wearing. "Sure are. It'd be kinda silly otherwise." She laughed.

"Did you doubt my taste in music?" Graves asked, willfully ignoring the accelerated pace of his heart. He silently prayed to the gods that Cleo couldn't feel it racing through his chest. He grinned, "I love that. I don't have any musical tattoos...yet."

"Not too much, but not knowing the words earlier knocked you down a peg." Cleo smiled as she shook her head. "Do you know what you'd get, and where?" She leaned against him and tilted her head, looking down at him as if surveying where she'd put a tattoo on his body.

He laughed at that and gave her a one-shoulder shrug. “I’m not sure, but...” Graves paused, shifting so Cleo could lean against him without pressing again his injured arm. He followed her gaze and smiled, continuing his train of thought. “Maybe you could help me decide.”

Cleo made sure not to put too much of her weight down into Graves, pushing some of the weight into where her toes met the ground. “Hm.” She pressed her lips together and ran her fingers along the collar of her shirt, running them from his collarbone to the nape of his neck. She met his eyes once more. “Both? What’s your favorite song? One you could never get sick of?”

Cleo’s fingers on his neck tickled and Graves tried not to squirm beneath her touch. He closed his eyes briefly, breathing in through his nose. When he opened them again, he met Cleo’s brown eyes with his hazel ones and smiled softly. “Both, why not? That’s your thing right?” Graves dropped his arm for a second, so that he could tap two fingers to the tattoos on her leg. Tapping turned into lightly tracing one of her tattoos and he quickly stopped himself, feeling heat rise in his cheeks. “My favorite song? Bancroft, gods.” He hooked his arm around her waist again, this time pulling her slightly closer, humming as he thought of a song. “Fuck, I dunno. Something by the Front Bottoms probably,” he paused, then mumbled. “Can’t think...um...maybe ‘Twin Sized Mattress’? Have you, um, heard of them?”

As she reached the nape of his neck, Cleo rested her arm on Graves’s shoulder and played with the hair at the back of his head idly, glancing down as he touched her leg. She bit her lip, smiling slightly when he started tracing over her tattoos, goosebumps prickling her arms as he did. She leaned into him as he pulled her closer, and tilted her head to scan his face. “I, uh, no, I don’t think so. Maybe if you played one of their songs?” She checked the front pocket of the flannel and pulled out her phone with the hand not playing with Graves’s hair. “What were they called?”

Graves relaxed, feeling Cleo run her fingers through his hair. Even though his hair was  trimmed shorter in the back than on top, his waves were still long enough for her fingers to twine through. He smiled and bit his lip as Cleo tilted her head towards him. “The Front Bottoms, thought I’m not sure if you’ll like ‘em.”

Cleo turned on the song once she found it, and leaned against Graves as she listened, letting her hand travel further up the back of his head through his hair. She waited until the song was over to speak again, looking at him seriously. "They're not really my kind of music, but... they seem very you." She nodded. "I don't think I got all the lyrics, but it seems potent. You should get the words jaws theme song tattooed onto you."

He tipped his head back so Cleo didn’t have to reach very far to play with his hair. As the song played, Graves was hit with a wave of nostalgia. The song reminded him of summers back home, spent driving his friends around in his beat-up pickup truck: windows down, music blasting. The song ended and the weight of Cleo’s look dragged him out of his memory. “I love them, they make me think of summer.” Graves grinned, trying not to laugh. “I dunno about that phrase, but I’d let you give me a tiny shark tooth tattoo. Maybe. As for lyrics I’d want tattooed? I’ve always liked contribute to the chaos - what do you think?” He nudged her with his shoulder. “Put on ‘Peach’, you’ll like that one better.”

"I love things like that." She smiled, thinking about things that reminded her of home, of a certain feeling. "It's like how a smell can whip you straight back into a classroom when you were in third grade." Cleo grinned. "You'd let me give you a shark tooth tattoo? I'll absolutely hold you to that, you know. I think that phrase is pretty perfect for you, though," she said, still carding her fingers through his hair. She nodded and changed the song, slowly untangling herself from him so that she could sit up and press her hand to her hot cheek. "Gods," she exhaled the word. "This song is really cute."

“What smell takes you back to your third grade classroom?” Graves pressed his cheek to his shoulder, hiding his laughter. He turned back to face her. “Absolutely, yeah. I love that line. Honestly, Bancroft, I’d let you give me a few tattoos.” He nuzzled his head into her hand, enjoying the feeling of her fingers in his unruly hair. When she changed the song, he turned to watch her face, humming softly along. “Cute, yeah. I love that one. I don’t know if they have any other songs you’d like, though. What’s your favorite non-ABBA song?”

“Hush up, I was talking figuratively.” Cleo laughed, trying not to sound too embarrassed. “Like you know when you hear a song or smell something and it takes you right back to a specific moment and it’s just so... whatever.” She shook her head and then smiled at him again. “Good. Once you’re healed up, come to me and I can give you one. It’ll be hand-poked so make sure you want something small or are prepared for it to hurt a bit.” She squinted as she tried to think, though it seemed like all the songs she knew left her head the moment he asked. “At the moment? Do you know Tegan and Sara?”

"Hey, I knew what you were talkin' about! There's a lot of songs that do that for me." He nudged her again and smiled, reassuring her that he hadn't been making fun of her. As she talked about tattoos, Graves' eyes glinted with mischief. "Only one? Well, alright. I think I can handle one hand-poke. Haven't you seen how many tattoos I have?" He laughed, pausing for a moment to think of the artist Cleo had named. "I don't think so? Play me your favorite of their songs?" With a soft smile, he quietly added, "Please?"

Cleo pouted down at Graves but smiled at him after a moment. "Okay, tough guy, in that case, I'll give you ten." She pressed her lips together and flushed, ducking her face away from him as he asked for her to play the song. She played it and stood, shaking her head at him. "You asked for this song without knowing... but it's impossible not to dance to." She laughed and started swaying around, then started jumping around as the beat picked up, laughing as she spun and held out a hand to him.

Graves scrunched his nose and laughed. "Ten? I can handle it, bring it on." He grinned and flexed his bicep, as if that would prove just how tough he was. He bopped his head along to the first few notes of the song, standing to take Cleo's hand with a bright smile. They danced for a few minutes, Graves laughing as he tried to keep up with her. He lifted his arm to twirl Cleo and pulled her close to him just before the song ended. His cheeks flushed and he looked away, breathless from dancing.

Cleo laughed, dancing along with him as she sang a few parts of the song. She took a moment to catch her breath and then grinned up at him and pulled away. “So that’s walk, check, dramatic karaoke, check. Anything else on the agenda?”

“Nah, I think we just about covered it all.” Graves stifled a yawn with the back of his hand. “Sorry,” he mumbled, flashing Cleo a sheepish grin.

“How dare you yawn.” Cleo laughed, stifling her own yawn as she took a seat on her bed. “It’s cool, I’m getting tired too. Gods, what an exciting Saturday night. Karaoke and in bed before midnight.”

Graves yawned again, trying not to laugh. "Don't forget hiking and stargazing. Ma'am you've had too much excitement for one night. I should- um," he gestured vaguely in the direction of the door.

Cleo smiled and watched him from where she sat on her bed. “Yeah.” She bit her lip. “Is it, um, hard to sleep with your shoulder like that?”

Graves blinked, “Oh, um. Yeah, I‘m supposed to keep the sling on and try sleep on my back but it’s not...that easy.”

She pursed her lips. “Would it be easier if, like, someone slept with you to make sure you stayed on your back? I mean, maybe you’re just a back sleeper, but, I dunno, I was just... thinking, I guess.”

His ears pinked as Graves tried not to smile. “It...would definitely be easier. I usually, um, sleep on my side.” He raised an eyebrow, “Is that, like, are you asking me to stay?”

Cleo half-rolled her eyes but stopped herself because yes, that was indeed what she was asking him. “Not if you don’t want to. Just, like, if you wanted to.” She felt her face grow hot.

“Really?” Graves looked away, hiding his goofy smile. “Yeah, I want to. You sure that’s okay?” He glanced back up at her, grinning from ear to ear.

Cleo pulled her shirt collar up over her nose so that he couldn’t see her smile. “Um, yeah, so long as you don’t mind a twin-point-five,” she said, letting her shirt drop back down as she patted her bed. “And do you need to borrow some sort of toothbrush? Or a shirt to sleep in?”

“Nah, I don’t- I don’t mind at all. A toothbrush would be great.” Graves rubbed his eye, a wave of exhaustion settling in now that they were talking about sleep. “Um, I can just? Sleep in this, I guess.”

"Okay." Cleo nodded and stood. She walked through her door and motioned for him to follow, leading them to her bathroom. She squatted down to look below the sink and pulled out a pack of cheap toothbrushes, then handed him one. "Got these a while back. So handy when your friends need to stay over because they're too drunk." She glanced up at him. "Or just cause." She smiled a bit and picked up her own toothbrush so that she could brush her teeth.

He followed Cleo into the bathroom, accepting the toothbrush with a quiet, “Thanks.” Graves brushed his teeth in silence, standing shoulder to shoulder with Cleo. He met her eyes in the bathroom mirror and winked, smiling around the toothbrush.

As she brushed her teeth, Cleo tried not to think about Bring it On, and instead tried to think about dental hygiene. She exhaled a small laugh through her nose, then spit, rinsed, and raised her eyebrows at him as she continues to brush her teeth.

Graves raised his eyebrows in return, spit, rinsed, and continued to brush his teeth, trying all the while not to laugh.

Cleo spit again and snorted as she rinsed out her mouth, leaning against the sink as she descended into a fit of giggles.

Graves finished brushing his teeth, looking at Cleo as he rinsed his toothbrush. "What? Do I have toothpaste on my face?"

“No.” She laughed, not quite sure as to why she was laughing. “You were giving me a look.”

Graves squinted, smirking. "Was I? Maybe it was just my normal expression."

Cleo shook her head, still grinning, as she clipped her hair back. “Well I guess you just have a funny normal expression, then.” She splashed water on her face.

"Harsh, Bancroft," he laughed, running a hand through his hair and moving to lean against the doorframe.

After Cleo washed her face, she turned to Graves, flushed, and led him back to her room, where she took off his flannel and draped it over his other flannel on the back of her chair. She looked from her bed to him and tilted her head. “I guess you can sleep on the outside and I’ll weigh you down on your left side? So you can’t roll over.”

Graves eyed Cleo's desk chair, shaking his head. "Are you just collectin' my flannels? Is that the fee to be graced with your presence?" He eyed her bed. "Um, yeah. That works, I guess." He blushed.

Cleo exhaled a laugh and climbed into bed. “Fee for being graced with my presence. I like that, yeah, let’s call it that.” She patted the space beside her. “If you wanna just walk home and not have me wrapped around you like an anchor that cool too.”

"Oh, no. Please. No, I'm stayin'." Graves blinked a few times, feeling his contacts still in his eyes. He knew he was going to regret sleeping in them come morning, but right now, he couldn't give a damn. He adjusted the strap of his sling and got into bed, taking the spot beside Cleo a little hesitantly.

Cleo shifted over as he got into bed and leaned over to turn her lamp off. She waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness to adjust her position against him. She rested her head on his shoulder but didn’t immediately wrap around him. “Comfy?”

Graves blinked in the darkness, then stretched out his arm so Cleo could rest more comfortably on him. He took a deep breath, feeling his cheeks get hot. "Um, yeah. Yes. Are you?"

Cleo cuddled closer to him, shifting a bit so that she was more comfortable. She hummed, then rolled over, still against him, and wrapped both of her arms around his, hugging it to her chest. “Yeah.”

"Okay, good," he answered, his voice low. Graves smiled as Cleo wrapped herself around his arm and pulled her a tiny bit closer. "Thanks for letting me stay," he whispered.

Cleo pressed her cheek against his arm and hooked her foot around his ankle. “Thanks for being my body pillow space heater,” she whispered back.

Graves let his eyes drift closed. "Anytime, Bancroft," he mumbled, voice heavy with sleep now that his head was on a pillow.

#c: cleo #c: L #c: lgraves #c: cleograves #anytime