I cant help but think that the staff of creation being used to raise atlas high onto the air will still happen but it will then drop onto salem and the whale grimm as a reference to how the first wicked witch in wizard of oz was crushed by dorothys house and the whale grimm will help cushion the fall of atlas
Jon’s startled jolt awake is nothing out of the ordinary, but his reaction after--his blank, ashen face and the rabbit-scared dart of his unfocused eyes to the doorway...whatever he sees there is obviously not Tim.
But then he blinks, and his breathing evens, and his expression transitions smoothly from fear into his signature irritation. “Can I help you, Tim,” he snaps, acerbic delivery undermining the actual question, and Tim raises his eyebrows and shrugs.
2. depressing au--honestly I should probably change the placeholder to depressed au, it’s more the characters than the actual plot (RWBY)
Qrow had to give it to their idiot sentry—the guy didn’t look like much. He was tall, sure, but Qrow had never seen a person look so...insubstantial was the word that came to mind. Everything about him faded into the background—his dark, dusty suit; his rail-thin frame; his pale skin and hair; the vague, fragile way he carried himself. He didn’t even scream ‘non-threatening’ so much as he did ‘gave up on life years ago.’
The man looked like a damn ghost.
3. Erosion (RWBY) - an Ozpin centric thing
An earlier version of the story starts like this:
At seventeen years old on a Wednesday evening, a boy hears a voice in his head.
This is nothing new for the voice. It is, however, very new for the boy.
I finally finished my piece for the writer @itsclydebitches whos fic is titled ‘A Thing With Feathers’ and can be found on AO3 here as part of the good omens big bang. This was supposed to have been posted yesterday but better late than never.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Jupiter Ascending (2015)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Jupiter Jones/Caine Wise
Characters: Jupiter Jones (Jupiter Ascending), Caine Wise, Kalique Abrasax, Original Child Character(s)
Additional Tags: jupiter ascending secret santa 2018, Secret Santa, Tabloids, Press and Tabloids, Post-Canon, Brief descriptions of smut
Summary:
A trashy intergalactic tabloid, The Restless Sun, has the scoop of the century when an unnamed source in Jupiter Jones' entourage spills all the details about her and her family being trapped on an ice planet in a vacation gone wrong.
another way to break the ordinary, it's all a blur as far as I can see
the other secret santa thing for @itsclydebitches!!! i think i like the star wars one more tbeh But hopefully she likes this as well <3 <3 <3 i Love U
ao3 link | cassidy and jesse drive a few hours away from annville to go rock climbing. cassidy is acting weird about it. jesse finds out why
They’re watching some hyper-censored version of a movie on TV when Cassidy asks,
“Do you like rock climbing?”
His back is to Jesse, leaning on him while his legs take up the rest of the couch, but Jesse can practically see him grinning through the back of his head.
“Like, on mountains?”
“Nah, ‘s bloody dangerous. Y’never seen 127 Hours? James Franco? Fuck that.” He makes a tired gesture with his hand. “Indoors.”
“Don’t know,” Jesse says. “Never done it.”
Cassidy nods, but doesn’t say anything else.
Almost five minutes later, on a commercial break, Jesse looks at him again and finally asks, “Why?”
Cassidy shrugs against his side.
“We should go rock climbing.”
Jesse snorts and looks back at the TV.
“I mean it,” Cassidy says. “I already looked a place up and everything, actually.”
“You’re serious?”
Cassidy sits up from against him and turns toward him.
“Yeah. Came into some money, thought it’d be fun.”
Jesse squints at him.
“You came into some money,” he drones, not believing for a second it isn’t stolen or hustled.
“Mmhmm,” Cassidy hums, “In a very legal way.”
It’s a lie, but it’s one of those lies where Jesse probably doesn’t want to know what he actually did, so he just… Doesn’t ask.
They’d asked Tulip if they should get a ticket for her too (God knows Cassidy would love to see her sweaty, stretching her legs, determination set in her face), but between her suspicions about the sudden trip and her genuine disinterest in climbing plastic, she declines.
“Just you ‘n’ me Padre, huh?”
Jesse kind of wishes he kept a newspaper around. Just… Rolled up. To swat Cassidy with once in a while.
“Looks like it.”
Cassidy confirms the address of the nearest place, a solid three hours away, but he doesn’t seem discouraged by Google Maps’ numbers.
Which makes sense, he guesses. What’s three hours to a 120 year old vampire?
The trip sucks. That far away, it doesn’t make sense to drive out, climb rocks, and then drive back in the same day, so they get a motel room for the night they get there and the night after. Drive out, sleep, climb rocks, sleep, drive back.
Cassidy spends the whole three hours under a blanket, alternating violently and unpredictably between complaining about the sun and heat and gushing about how long it’s been since he rock climbed, and how fun it is, and how much fun Jesse’s going to have.
He really doubts it, because it doesn’t sound like too much fun at all, but the way Cassidy talks about it makes him feel guilty for being uninterested. He’s still going to try, but he just can’t imagine he’ll enjoy it.
He’s not going to burst his bubble yet, though. It’s a smiley goddamn bubble.
Cassidy makes a few jokes as they approach the motel in town that he’s not against sharing a bed if it’s necessary, but Jesse will have to at least buy him dinner first. (Jesse gives him a dry, sarcastic “Ha, ha” and reminds him that with the exception of the tickets themselves, he is buying everything else on this trip anyway. It shuts Cassidy up for a little. Never long enough, though.)
The motel room has two beds, thankfully. Jesse grins as he opens the door fully for Cassidy to come in too, and it makes him throw his arms up and scoff, and sarcastically ask, “Well, now how am I going to get you into my bed? Bullshit.”
He throws his backpack at the bed furthest from the door (and furthest from the windows along the same wall) and goes to secure the curtains while Jesse heads into the bathroom to piss.
He’ll never enjoy Cassidy continuing conversation through a bathroom door, but he’s gotten used to it.
“You excited?”
“Sure,” Jesse lies. He’s not, but he’s glad Cassidy’s going to have fun. “How hard can it be?”
Cassidy laughs on the other side of the door.
“Dunno. You flexible?”
Jesse flushes the toilet, washes his hands, and lets Cassidy stumble when he opens the door he’s leaning on.
“You need to be flexible to climb a wall that’s meant for climbing?” he asks skeptically.
Once he’s righted himself and stepped to the toilet too, pissing without bothering closing the door, he answers from inside the bathroom.
“To some extent, sure.”
Jesse pulls his bible out of his own backpack and sets it on the nightstand.
“Don’t know how well I’ll do, then.”
The toilet flushes again and, once he comes out and gets a glare from Jesse, Cassidy washes his hands too.
“I can help you limber up before we start tomorrow.”
Jesse grins back at him, because ha, yes, innuendo, but despite the raised eyebrows, Cassidy does actually look excited to rock climb.
“I’m sure you can,” he says, rather than asking why it’s so fun or how someone like him has such a normal hobby or why he’s so fucking excited about it. He doesn’t even get this excited about drugs or alcohol or when Tulip changes clothes in the same room as them.
Despite his skinny, sickly-looking frame and his obnoxious grin, the athletic shorts and loose shirt on him actually make him look like someone that works out. Jesse doesn’t know how, because they’re wearing the same outfit, both from the same shitty little clothing store they found on the way out there, and Jesse still just looks like kind of a redneck.
“It’s not that awful,” Cassidy tries. “Plenty of people don’t look good in work-out clothes. I think you still look fine.”
“We’re wearing the same clothes,” Jesse hoots, voice crack and all. “I look like a… I look like someone’s dad.”
Cassidy just laughs.
Okay. Jesse can confess it would be fun to get to the top.
If he could get to the top.
“C’mon!” Cassidy yells, his own personal cheerleader. “Get your right foot up a little farther, you can get it!”
He’d yell at him to stop acting like an asshole, because he knows the whole place must be staring, but something about Cassidy truly trying to help him keeps his mouth shut.
Sure enough, if he can get his foot up just a little more, there’s a ‘rock’ about the size of a pebble, but Cassidy can’t mean that one. There’s no way in hell he can get a foothold on it.
He tests it anyway, and Cassidy gives him another “Fuck, yeah! Go, Jesse!”. They’re absolutely going to be banned from this place, he knows it. He can already see someone official-looking heading their way, glaring at Cassidy and glancing suspiciously up at Jesse.
Trying to smile apologetically at the official-looking guy breaks his concentration enough that he slips, and finds himself falling just-barely-slower-than-he-should back to the ground.
“Shit,” he mutters.
Cassidy claps his hand on his back anyway, grin wide as ever.
“You’ve really never done that before? Could have fuckin’ fooled me.”
“Whoa,” the man says, in a tone intended to shush them. “I’m sorry, but we don’t allow that kind of profanity here.”
The cliché ’this is a family-friendly environment’ lingers unsaid. Jesse’s about to apologize and assure him they won’t swear any more, but Cassidy snorts.
“Piss off,” he says. “‘S not even any kids here, just teenagers and people our age.”
Jesse bites back a smile at ‘our age’, like Jesse’s mid-30s can compare to Cassidy’s minimum of a century and a quarter. The official man doesn’t seem to find humor in any of it, though.
“Okay, well, I’ll need to ask you to leave.”
Regret pulls Cassidy’s grin down, realizing he was serious and probably shouldn’t have told this guy to piss off.
“Hey,” Jesse says quickly, “Could I speak to you privately?”
The guy looks suspicious, but allows Jesse to lead him a few feet away.
“Let him climb,” Jesse whispers. It’s an abuse of his power, but they drove three hours out to do this. Cassidy went out of his way to pay for their hour here. Cassidy’s right, there aren’t even young kids here, just teenagers and adults; he’s not letting some uptight guy in khakis ruin Cassidy’s day.
The man’s demeanor changes, and while he still looks annoyed, he sighs.
“Fine, but tell him to watch the swearing.”
Jesse nods.
“Of course.”
Cassidy is beaming.
There’s not even anything attractive about someone climbing a steep wall, knee shoved in his armpit and skinny arm stretching for another grip, but here Jesse is, feeling a little too warm watching Cassidy get higher and higher up.
It’s impressive, sure, and he sure as hell couldn’t do it, but why can’t...
He swallows. His throat feels too dry.
Why can’t he stop staring at him? His awful pale thighs, even more exposed with his shorts riding up, and his back arching while he tries to keep his center of gravity close to the wall. He looks like he’s in his element, and it’s weird; who knew ‘his element’ was, like, 30 feet up a plastic wall?
Cassidy’s reached the top while Jesse’s been daydreaming, and the harness lets him jump off the top and fall safely down. He’s grinning like it’s Christmas, and his birthday, and he just won the lottery.
He must see the look on Jesse’s face, because his grin splits so he can laugh.
“I know,” he says. “I’m pretty good.”
Jesse laughs along while he desperately wills his skin to cool down.
“Yeah, you are,” he agrees. “Next wall?”
Cassidy is already heading for it when he nods, and fuck if that isn’t cute, too.
Maybe the Texas heat has finally gotten to him.
Once they’re back in their hotel room, Cassidy peels off his shirt and stretches long and high.
Jesse could murder him.
”Oh, fuck, Jesse,” he groans. It’s hard to be so smug when Jesse’s got him on his toes trying to put it off, trying to soothe the heat in his groin before he cums just from Jesse’s cock in him.
He makes another desperate noise against the wall, and Jesse has to let go of one of his hips to keep Cassidy’s hand away from himself.
“Please, Jess,” he squeaks, but lets him pin his hand beside his shoulder again. Cassidy grabs onto a hold on the wall to keep his hand busy.
Right. They’re at the… The rock gym. That’s a weird place to have sex.
They shouldn’t be doing this there, but it’s okay, somehow. Something in the back of his mind tells him he doesn’t need to worry, just needs to focus on Cassidy and enjoy this.
He feels bad denying something Cassidy so desperately wants, so he slides a hand down Cassidy’s front and starts stroking his cock.
“Preacher,” he purrs.
He doesn’t sound nearly as desperate as he should, especially not when Jesse’s finally got his hand on him.
“What’re you dreaming about, Jess?”
Dreaming?
He’s very suddenly righted into reality. Horizontal, on something soft, covered by something soft. Bed? Hotel. The trip.
Shit. Cassidy.
He sits up as quickly as he can, the world still not quite aligned with where his brain thinks it’s supposed to be.
He can hear Cassidy laughing over the blood pounding in his ears, but only barely. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, head turned toward him. Can definitely see Jesse’s dick under the blanket.
“Well,” Cassidy huffs, “Having some nice dreams?”
“Sorry,” is Jesse’s first instinct, for some reason. “I… Sorry.”
Cassidy laughs again, pleased with himself for waking up Jesse so flustered.
“No, no,” he says, “it’s fine. It’s great. Who was the lucky lady?”
Jesse tries to pull the blankets up so they’re bunched over his lap and his erection isn’t quite as obvious, but with Cassidy sitting on them, all he can manage is downgrading the view from Nearly Full Exposure to Definitely A Dick, But A Vague One.
“No one,” Jesse says. His voice sounds so rough.
“C’mon, Jess!” Cassidy readjusts himself so he’s sitting completely facing Jesse, and closer. “You woke me up with all that racket, the least you can do is humor me.”
Fuck, what racket? Was he talking in his sleep? He might actually prefer that to the thought that him grunting and gasping was loud enough to wake someone up.
“Sorry, I’ll -- I’ll try not to -- I won’t,” he stutters.
“Jess,” Cassidy pleads, and he tries so hard not to think about how different the context of him begging was just moments ago. “I won’t tell.”
Cassidy’s hand settles over his knee through the blanket, and Jesse watches him inch it up.
“I promise,” Cassidy says, softer, and suspiciously close to his face now.
“What are you doing?” Jesse asks.
That’s it.
Cassidy leans back and throws his arms up with a scoff and a “Jesus, Mary, and goddamn Joseph” before he puts his whole face in his hands.
“I’ve been trying to fuck you this whole trip, Jesse.” He sighs, breath heavy with frustration and something like defeat. “You do not pick up on innuendo well, has anyone ever told you that?”
Jesse wheezes, which is close enough to a laugh for now. He’s always picked up on it fine from Tulip. Maybe Cassidy’s just bad at innuendo.
“And Tulip, she told me you’d miss every damn line,” he continues, dropping his hands, “but I thought, ’no, I have more faith in him than that. He’ll realize something’s up when I start talking about sharing the bed’. You’re making me look bad, padre.”
Okay, or she’s a traitor.
“Tulip?”
He can still barely speak, from sleep and embarrassment and Cassidy’s desperate voice still echoing in his ears, but Cassidy gets what he’s asking.
“Well, I’m obviously not gonna try to fuck you without her permission,” he states. Matter of fact. Casual. Like he didn’t just put those words together, and imply that Tulip knew Cassidy brought him out here with the intent of… That.
God. Of course she knew, actually.
“Fuck,” Jesse groans.
“Yeah, y’know. Bang. Bump uglies.”
Jesse tries to swat at him, but Cassidy dodges it.
“No, I meant -- stop it.”
“I’m just making sure!” Cassidy laughs, absolutely not ‘making sure’. “Just clarifying you know what I mean. A little game of ‘hide the sausage’. Y’know, givin’ me the bone.”
Jesse wants to laugh too and swat him again, but Cassidy’s referred to himself getting the bone. Like his dream.
(Jesse hates himself for having to think those words.)
“Christ, Cass,” he sighs.
This is… A lot. It’s a lot to take in, and a lot to think about. How long has this been going on? How long has Cassidy felt like this? Or, wait, felt like what? Maybe he’s overthinking, and Cassidy just wants to put ’has fucked a preacher’ in his diary. Maybe that’s it.
“Is…” Jesse swallows. How do you ask someone you were just thinking about fucking if he like-likes you? “Are you --”
He doesn’t know how to ask it, actually, so he covers his face with his hands again and groans.
“Spit it out, Jess,” Cassidy prods. “I’ll keep on with the slang if you don’t.”
Jesse does laugh then, just once into his palms, before he drags his hands just far enough down his face to look at Cassidy again.
“Why?” is what Jesse decides on.
Cassidy throws his hands up again, in lieu of a shrug now rather than in frustration.
“You’re already my friend. You’re hot. Like, really hot, even when you’re not in your preachin’ get-up -- which, let me tell you, does it for me.”
He’s still joking around to avoid the very serious matter of Apparently My Best Friend Is Into me, and Jesse sighs.
“So… You like me?”
Cassidy snorts.
“Jesus, Jess, of course. I --”
He stops himself, with the same face he makes when he’s trying not to say something too sappy around Tulip, and that’s more telling than anything he could have said.
“Christ, Cass,” Jesse says again. So he… What? He loves him?
“Jesse, if you’re not into me like that, that’s fine,” Cassidy mutters. “I don’t have any expectation of that from you, I just…” He sighs.
Jesse realizes, for the first time, just how young Cassidy can look. He looks like every teenager in Annville confessing their crushes to him on Sunday after his sermon, a very specific balance of nerves and hopes and low self-esteem.
“I just wanted you to know,” Cassidy continues, with That Face.
Jesse still hasn’t said anything.
He’d never considered it, really. He’s a professional at bottling up his feelings, and he vaguely remembers snuffing something out when Cassidy had turned up at his church.
But…
He can’t imagine they’ll be in Annville much longer. Things are too chaotic there, too on the brink of implosion, and there’s too much unfinished business Tulip needs to get back to. At this point, he can’t imagine he’d let her leave town without him, or that Cassidy wouldn’t join them.
He could let himself have this. He’s already let himself have Tulip. She’s apparently already given Jesse her blessing to have this too.
Why not?
“Okay, I’ll take the silence as you saying, ‘Noted, Cassidy! Please leave me alone now,’ and that’s fine. I’ll go.”
“Cassidy,” he whispers, not sure how to say the same for himself, either. It makes sense. He loves Cassidy like a friend -- what’s a relationship if not friendship with romantic and sexual feelings attached? The sexual feelings he’s already identified, but the romantic feelings…
...Well. They’ve been here all along, really. He’s never been great at discerning those either.
“No, really, Jess. It’s okay.” He doesn’t sound thrilled with it, but understanding. It’s reassuring to know Cassidy really did just want to clear his own air.
Isn’t he in for a treat, then.
“Me too,” Jesse says. He doesn’t know what words to choose, if he should say ‘like’ and sound like a middle schooler or use ‘love’ and sound like that middle schooler, so he just… Says that. Me too.
Cassidy looks suspicious at best and offended at worst.
“What do you mean, ‘me too’?”
He sits back down on the bed since he’s no longer leaving the hotel room, and that’s all the opportunity Jesse needs to grab him by the back of his neck and kiss him.
There’s a wet noise as Cassidy pulls back for a split second, just long enough to sigh a surprised, ”oh, fuck”, and then Jesse is yanking him back again.
He’s kicking himself on the inside for not realizing what was happening sooner. It seems so obvious now, even considering how flirty and crude Cassidy is with everyone. And he’s kicking himself worse for not realizing how he felt sooner -- he’s not surprised he missed it, considering the effort he puts into suppressing everything he possibly can, but there’s still a subconscious guilt that Cassidy thought the feeling wasn’t mutual.
Cassidy pulls away again; he doesn’t usually need as much air as he does, but Jesse supposes only one of them has been waiting for this moment for God-only-knows-how-long.
He glances down at Jesse’s lap while he’s catching his breath.
“Are you sure this isn’t just that talking?” he asks.
Jesse laughs quietly against his mouth.
“I’m pretty sure.”
His other hand takes the moment to slip up Cassidy’s shirt, up the freezing skin of his side. Cassidy shivers and leans into it.
“You absolutely sure?”
He’s trying to pass it off lightheartedly, but Jesse can hear what he means; this isn’t a joke? This isn’t using me? This isn’t going to be taken back as soon as you get off and don’t feel like humoring me anymore?
Jesse kisses him again. There’s a lot he should say to assure him right now, confessions and well-thought-out words and things that would let Cassidy know exactly how much he wants this, but he’d fumble over them if he tried to say them now.
“I’m positive, Cass,” he says instead. The shudder against his mouth tells him the blunt lick over Cassidy’s bottom lip is enough communication for now, and he’s accepting the telepathic I’ll tell you more later.
“Jess?” Cassidy sighs.
“Mm?”
Cassidy grins wickedly -- Jesse can’t see the grin, his eyes are still shut, but he knows it’s wicked, that one he always gets before saying something crude. He has the feeling he’s going to become much more fond of it soon. His hand returns to Jesse’s leg, too, much higher than it had been.
“You wanna tell me what you were dreaming about now?”
