#amnesia soap

[brokenpieces-72]

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TW: mentions of stalking, mentions of possible kidnapping, attempted kidnapping/hostage

You waited by the door, looking out the windows, checking for passing vehicles. Johnny noticed you'd started to wait by the door at the end of your shift, instead of outside. You kept brushing it off as nothing, but clearly something was bothering you. This was the seventh time though. When Johnny saw you checking outside, he came over to lead you to his car, his pack slung over his shoulder.

"Aye. Kid." Johnny said, checking the windows himself. No cars were passing, and most had already left. You looked over and walked up to Johnny, to follow behind him. Johnny noticed you'd been walking with him to the car oddly as well, keeping alert and almost hiding behind him.

"Ready?" You asked, taking a breath of relief.

"Is someone bothering you?" Johnny asked. You shrugged but Johnny just kept looking at you, eyes glancing up to the windows a couple of times. It was nothing, probably just your imagination.

"Just... don't tell mom okay? Cause then she'll start worrying, and then it'll be a whole thing." You said.

"Depends on what it is." Johnny told you. "If it's something worth concern then I'll tell your mom."

"Fine." You gave in. "The past few shifts there's this one car that seems to pass the store. I think it's a couple of cars actually, that's why it's not a big deal."

"At night?" Johnny asked.

"A couple times, but I think it was just to turn around. Other times it was in the evenings. They probably don't check the store hours properly." You reasoned. It was possible. Johnny wasn't convinced. Sure plenty of people came up and thought they could still get in, but they could be turned away easily enough.

"Anything else?"

"Well... I saw one of the drivers. I was on till and packing his items, and then was sent outside. When I got out there, I saw him leaving and he looked at me, and then he looked away. He was probably surprised to suddenly see me outside. It wasn't like he followed me around the parking lot."

"Yeah because you had the radio, and could call him out for harrassment." Johnny exclaimed. Your heart was starting to thump in your chest. You started to rethink everything, trying to find any other details that should have tipped you off. It was making you uncomfortable. It hadn't been just one customer. Your chest felt a little tight. You had another follow you when you didn't have the radio, and when you noticed, they turned and went to a different part of the lot. You figured they forgot where they'd parked their car. You were scratching your arms, protected by your hoodie. Another had lingered in an aisle while you were doing the closing. A couple of people had asked you about the hours when you were helping at the gas station.

"Hey. Hey." Johnny held your shoulders, seeing you worry. Shit had he taken it too far? "Deep breaths. Alright?"

Johnny saw you were starting to tear up. He needed to get you to the car, it would be safer and quieter. Thankfully, you could still walk, still holding some of your faculties. Johnny led you to his car, eyes open for anyone who might be lingering longer than they should. When you got in the car, you kept checking the window. Johnny got in and took a moment to talk to you before driving. He felt his own paranoia peeking out from where he'd shoved it down.

"It might be nothing." Johnny told you. "Been feeling it myself for a while, like I have someone watching me. "

"is someone watching me?" You asked quickly. Johnny wasn't sure. You were smart enough for stranger danger, and keeping personal information to yourself. It could be innocent stuff, it was multiple vehicles and the store had regulars, ones that you'd spoken to before.

"I'm not sure." Johnny admitted. "If this keeps happening though, you need to speak up. If you're inside, you tell a supervisor. If you're outside, go inside and tell someone, or use the radio. Alright?"

Without a word you nodded, taking his words as orders. Johnny told you he would be taking you to his place instead of your own. He didn't want to wake your mother, but he didn't want to leave you alone at your house, letting your thoughts run wild. If he caused your paranoia, he was going to deal with it. Johnny put the car in drive, and took a longer way back to his place.

Gaz was following them. He knew Johnny's address but suddenly he took a different turn than usual. Following was a little tricky when it came to a new route, since he had to take different turns keep Johnny from catching on. No other cars seemed to be following either of them. Good. That was the last thing he wanted.

You talked to your mom, Johnny nearby for support. Your uncle said it was probably nothing, just you being paranoid and it was all in your head. Your mother took it seriously though, even asking if you wanted to call in sick to work, explain to them that you didn't feel safe at work right now. A day off would be nice, but no. It could be nothing and it would be better to sit down with your bosses to tell them what was going on.

You sat down in the office, with two of your managers. They asked if Johnny's attendance was really necessary, but you insisted. Emotional support. He didn't tell them it was also because he felt responsible via association. If whoever was watching him, was watching you, he wanted to be ready.

"Is it the same person each time?" One of your managers asked.

"No. It's been a couple of different people. They get really close when they're talking to me, or they seem to be following me in the parking lot." You answered. The two managers were concerned, but they wanted to have all the facts and be sure before taking any big steps.

"What do they look like?" The other manager asked. Admittedly it's hard for you to pull exact descriptions. The moments were small, it was different people, and some of them you didn't see their faces.

"I can't recall. Usually caucasian. One had short black hair, another was wearing a face mask and have some graying hair." You continued your descriptions of them, explaining when and where it happened. Some were more defined than others. You admitted you weren't sure, and that it could be nothing. By the end your managers had a small, loose list that they could give to one of the security. They also asked if you wanted to go home for the day. Again, you said you wanted to stay. They let you leave the office, but Johnny stayed behind.

"Take ityou don't want to talk about the score last night." The other manager said.

No he wanted to tell her, that he was exmilitary, and had been recovering from amnesia for the past few months or so. Also there was a chance that he'd put you in danger becvause he too believed he was being watched, but seemingly only at his house, where he had a room full of new clippings and scribbled notes, trying to piece together his past. Oh yeah, and there's a good chance he had dreams about death and likely wasn't mentally stable.

"If y/n has another encounter like those... would it be possible to let me know?" He asked.

"Not really supposed to. It's more of a private matter for her." The first manager said. Johnny nodded in understanding.

"If Y/N needs some extra support and asks for you, we'll find you." The other manager assured him. "It's up to her."

"Thanks." Johnny said. "As for the score last night..."

Johnny brought you to the job site again. For a while everything seemed fine, no more random stopping cars or people seeming to follow you in the parking lot. The two of you boiled it down to coincidence. Johnny took you to the portable office to check in with Milena. You swore she hadn't changed clothes since the last time you saw her, wearing the same blue button up, and black pants. The matching blazer was resting on the back of her chair. When she looked up, she gave a small professional smile, talking to Johnny. The only time she talked to you, or rather about you was when Johnny brought you up. You were an afterthought, like remembering your coworker had a dog.

"I need to ask her a few questions." Milena said. Johnny nudged you when he noticed you were distracted. Milena wanted to talk to you? Oh shit were you in trouble? Did you get Johnny in trouble. Maybe she learned you were too young (you weren't but maybe she didn't want to risk liability).

"Did I do something?" You asked, your concern covering your face. Milena shook her head slightly, her smile turning a bit more friendly.

"No. I just need to have some information in case of an emergency and for your pay." Milena explained.

"Um..." you gave Johnny a quick glance. He gave a sort of half shrug and gestured to Milena. It was your turn for the routine. Nothing to be nervous about. Privacy policies exist for a reason. "Okay."

Johnny was asked to leave, and told you to come find him or someone else when you were done. You sat down in the fold up chair, while Milena finished typing. She gave you a form on a clipboard and a pen to fill out the general information. Name, birthday, contact info. You handed it back to her with a pleasant thank you. You got up and turned to leave when she stopped you.

"You forgot to fill out your address." She said, handing it back to you. Ever since the incidents you were cautioned to keep your address to yourself. You fidgeted with your hands.

"Um... Do I have too?" You asked, facing her directly. Milena straightened a little, withdrawing the clipboard ever so slightly.

"It won't be released to anyone else unless there is an emergency." Milena assured you. Still you hesitated. "If you're in the process of moving, it can be changed later."

"No, it's not that. We moved not that long ago actually. Uh..." You already told your managers, you may as well tell her. "It's complicated.''

"It doesn't leave this room." Milena said, setting the clipbaord down. She seemed interested, resting her arms down on the desk. Her head tilted ever so slightly with curiosity. For someone you had written off as reserved, she seemed very engaged.

"The past couple of weeks at my other job... it could be nothing, but I think a few customers were kind of odd. I think they were trying to follow me." You exclaimed. Milena's face went from curious to concern. "I'm not sure, it hasn't happened the past couple of days."

"Did you tell Mactavish about this?" She asked. You nodded. "What did he say about it?"

"To be cautious, and not give my address out." You said. Milena looked over the clipboard again, hovering her pen along the lines.

"You have an emergancy contact written down?" She asked, without looking up.

"I put Johnny, I hope that's okay." You said. Milena gave a silent nod.

"Just be sure to come and see me once you're sure everything is okay. If something happens we want to be able to get in touch with your family." Milena said, setting the clipboard down.

"I will. Do you need anything else?" You asked.

"No. That should be all." Milena said, still staring down at the desk. Her cellphone chimed, and she sighed.

"I'll head out then." You said, getting up. Milena gave a hafl hearted wave as she dialed her phone and put it to her ear.

Just before you stepped out you heard her say something along the lines of, "They're not done yet, I need more time."

As you stepped out a deliery driver stepped in, walking past you like you were an oversize door stop. Alright then. Little weird but whatever. Before spotting Johnny, you noticed the delivery. There was a guy standing nearby with a respirator over half of his face. He climbed into the back of the truck, raising the door. You noticed a lot of gas canisters inside. What were those for?

You heard yelling inside the portable. Shit. You reflexes kicked in and you went to the oppsite side of the portable, away from the job site and other workers. You could understand what was being said. It was too muffled and you were pretty sure it was Russian. Just in case, you took out your phone and took a photo of the truck, pressing against the side of the office. Something told you there might be a lawsuit coming or something like that. Couldn't hurt to take a pic of the truck, proof of delivery and all that. Once you had the photos, you went around the portable the long way, putting some distance between you and the situation.

You didn't show Johnny the photo. If Milena needed it, she would say something. You mentioned there had been an argument and delivery issue, but you weren't exactly sure.

"She's a busy woman. It 'appens." Johnny said. "She's probably fine, no doubt the others would give some asshole a piece of their mind."

You were satisfied with that. "By the way, I didn't ask you, but I figured it was okay. I put you down as my emergency contact."

Johnny looked at you and thought for a moment. "Alright."

"What?" You asked. "I could ask ehr to change it, I just figured it would be better than putting my mom or uncle. Mom has enough to deal with, and my uncle probably won't even pick up."

"Is fine." Johnny assured you. "Smart."

And the two of you left it at that.

"You're sure it was Konni Group?" Price asked again. Kyle sighed looking at the table with maps and lists and charts scattered around. Muscle memory led his hands to the edges of his tact vest, except there was none, so he settle for his hoodie pockets.

"They were careful. No positive IDs on any of them, no indication of affiliation, only that they kept looking around the parking lot. I couldn't stay in the lot for long before their own security asked what I was doing there." Kyle admitted. But come on, it had to be Konni Group. Who else would be watching Soap so closely? They needed proof it was Konni group though, otherwise they could go in half-assed, and have other groups on their asses. It could also be CIA or FBI, or even some stalkers.

"Does Soap suspect anything yet?" Ghost asked from the head of the table, arms folded.

"His fans? Possibly. Me? Well... he took a different route home one night " Kyle said.

The three men stood in silence, mulling over some options. Kyle wanted to just tell Soap everything and maybe get him to move. Then he would be safe while he recovered properly. Simon thought keeping Johnny in the dark was a bad plan. He needed to know his past, he needed to be back with them, where he belonged. To him, Johnny was a soldier and he needed to be one. More than once he'd seen Johnny sitting outside at night with his leg bouncing, or pacing in his living room. John, well, he was conflicted. On one hand he failed to save Soap, came too close to death. Soap deserved an easy rest. On the other hand, Soap was vital to the team and they were keeping him in the dark about everything, and forced to wait until Soap suddenly rediscovered himself. Even then there was no promise of him coming back. Price had built Johnny up into what he was, but that was when Soap was a soldier, a sniper and demo expert. Now Soap was Johnny. It was his choice to become Soap again.

"Right, in the mean time we focus on Konni group." Price said. "We have contacts to look out for as well. Let's not neglect them either."

More time passed, and you kept looking over your shoulder. Nothing. You started to let your guard down, as did Johnny. Something seemed to raise it back up for a split moment every now and then. Then you rationalized it as nothing more than circumstance. You'd get over it. You'd done self-defense classes before... not very many or recently but still.

You still had some nights of conspiracy at Johnny's place, more silly suggestions that seemed to lighten the gravity of the room. Other nights were spent at home, getting to lounge with your mom in front of the tv, usually when your uncle wasn't around. If he was, there was a game on, and you'd just sit and draw with your heaphones on. His cheers and shouting made you jump, but by now you were used to it. Any requests for him to quiet down were met with shooing gestures or his volume rising. Sometimes your mom would invite Johnny over to eat and stay to watch tv or to just chill in the living room. You liked seeing them get along. Your mom was happy with him around, and often asked about him. How was he, what is he up to, do you and him have anything planned?

Life seemed normal. A hint of wierd to it but it was normal for the most part. That's what it seemed like.

You were heading to Johnny's on foot with the rain pouring down. Your mom had to be out of town for a job interview, and you encouraged her to make it a small vacation for herself. Again, you were too young to be home by yourself for more than a couple of days and your uncles presence was never consistent. All you needed was a simple backpack as you had some clothes at Johnny's already.

As you walked a car passed by on the street. You recognized it. And the cap. You stopped for a moment to watch it go. Was he follo-no. You kept walking. Probably visiting a friend further in the neighbourhood or something. Carry on, don't worry about it. Everything is fine. You added a few skips to your stride, enjoying the peaceful pitter patter of the rain, pulling your hood down to let it soak your hair. Good day. It was a good day...

You were maybe two blocks away from Johnny's house when a car pulled up close to you, stopping maybe five feet away. You halted your stride. You couldn't make out a face in the tinted glass of the windshield but the maroon colour and size tipped you off. Everything seemed to slow down a bit, as the driver exited the vehicle. Your head kept telling you it was nothing, but you knew the car. You'd seen it before in the parking lot.

Options ran through your head as you crossed off each one. Scream? No your throat was too tight. Fight? As you saw more of the driver you knew it wasn't a good idea. Run home? He'd drive after you, and that was if he was following you. Smile and walk past? Yeah, easy target. Call the police? In front of him!?! The car door concealed his waist, you could see any weapons. Think fast, he's spotted you.

FUCK IT!

You broke into a run heading to the road and the opposite side of the car, towards Johnny's. You heard the man say something, but didn't listen. Your heart was pounding when you reached Johnny drive way. The driver was dangerously close, as you knocked on the door furiously. Johnny had the curtains closed, so he didn't see what was going on outside until he reached the door. Before he reached the door though, the driver reached you.

The driver was much larger and much more athletic, His arms grabbed you and attempted to pull you back away from the door. Panic hit hard as you struggled, thrashing and kicking like your life depended on it, which at the time, it did. The driver had put a rough hand over your mouth, attempting to reduce your alerts to Johnny. Dull nails dug into your cheek, as your tried to get your mouth on his hand. A car screeched to a stop behind you, but you barely heard it.

Just as Johnny opened the door and saw the scene, someone announced police, demanding the driver drop you. Johnny was quicker, punching your attacker in jaw, making him stumble. His grip loosened for only a second, which Johnny took full advantage of as he tore the driver's arms off of you, with a quick "come 'ere". Suddenly you were at his front door and behind him while he told you to go inside. The officer came up the drive way in that time, adding a stomp to the back of the driver leg, before pinning him to the ground.

The officer pulled out a cell and dialled 911 while Soap kicked the attacker in the side. "Sick fuck!"

"Sir, back off." The officer instructed. "Return inside."

Johnny went back inside quickly, and found you standing off to the side a couple of feet from the door, hugging yourself and tense. Yeah no fucking surprise there, you were probably in a mix of shock and a panic attack. You were staring at the door, the situation cropped out of the frame, only able to hear their grunts and harsh words, while your heavy breathing filled your ears. Johnny blocked your view and led you to his couch. "Sit down."

Your legs gave out under you, and you were caught by familiar cushions. Johnny got you through your panic attack, having you name things you could feel, smell, see and hear, while the officer dragged the driver away from the house and sat him on the curb.

"Can I touch ya?" Johnny asked. You nodded. "Take your coat off."

You did as he told you, and got your hoodie off too. Johnny reached out to your arms and you offered them. His hands were warm at least, so you didn't flinch away. He turned them over a little, checking for any marks or bruises. No doubt they would set in eventually, but for now they just felt sore. Your attacker had squeezed pretty tight, his large hand getting a good grip around your bicep when he grabbed you. Johnny told you to turn your head, to check your cheek. He winced at how deep the nails had gone into your skin. Any deeper or sharper, they would have broken skin. Johnny looked pissed, if it hadn't been for the officer you were pretty sure Johnny would give the driver the same treatment if not worse. Instead he got up and went to the kitchen retrieving a glass of water for you while he put the kettle on.

Soon enough, there were sirens and a couple cars pulled up. Johnny glanced outside, pulling the curtain back. The officer flagged the cars down, and spoke with the other cops. That's when Johnny had a moment to notice, that the officer who'd saved you, wasn't in uniform. Instead it was a blue hoodie and jeans. His vehicle wasn't a cop car, it was pedestrian. Johnny shoved his suspicions away for now. Another minute passed, and there was a knock at Johnny's door again. Johnny let the uniformed officer in and directed him to you.

"Are you the parent?" The officer asked.

"No." Johnny admitted. "Temporary guardian, her mother is out of town."

The officer then looked at you. "Would you prefer to have your mother present while we ask some questions?"

"Johnny's fine." You said in a small voice. The officer nodded and started to write down your statement. You did your best to answer his questions. You mentioned he might have been watching you for a while but you couldn't be sure.

"You're pretty fortunate that guy was driving by." The officer said once you finished. You looked up from picking at your fingers. Right, there was another outside.

You and Johnny shared a quick look. "Yeah... I am."

"He's still outside giving his statement if you want to talk to him." The officer offered. He gave both of you a nod and stepped out. Johnny told you to wait on the couch while he followed the officer outside. You remained sitting, pulling the blanket hanging on the back of the couch around your shoulders.

Johnny approached the man in the blue hoodie, who was getting soaked by the rain. He was talking to another couple of officers, too quiet to make out what they were saying. The man met Johnny's eyes, and faced him while the other cops dispersed. The driver was loaded into the car while Johnny looked the man over. Dark skin, light facial hair, blue hoodie, jeans, and his hood up.

"Thank you." Johnny said offering his hand to shake. "Johnny Mactavish."

The man looked a little stunned when Johnny introduced himself. Shit, he hadn't meant for this to happen, he only intended to help the kid. Fuck it. He returned the handshake, "Kyle Garrick."

"Got a light?"

"Smoking on the job Johnny?"

"Just blending in Lt."

Johnny blinked a few times. His head started to hurt again. Kyle noticed immediately. "You alright mate?"

"M'fine. Sorry." Johnny said quickly. "Who's the driver? He say anything?"

"Nah." Kyle said casually, watching the cop car drive off. "Probably just some creep. How's your kid?"

"Not mine. I'm looking after her." Johnny clarified. On one hand he didn't want to give anything away. He felt like he knew Kyle but couldn't place him. Kyle didn't remember him or he might be faking. Hell for all Johnny knew, Kyle had intended to make a move, but got interrupted. Regardless, Johnny wasn't sure who was the intended target. Best to keep things vague. "...Have we met?"

Kyle's calm expression looked like it had reset. Thing is, Kyle was only supposed to step in for emergencies. Interacting with Johnny was not part of the plan. The protocol was to take things casual, gauge how much Johnny might have recovered, and then dip. Kyle could remain calm, but this was complicated. If he told Johnny yes, then Kyle would be asked more questions. If Kyle tried to walk away or tell Johnny he isn't supposed to say more, no doubt Johnny would escalate. That was a given. Saying no, well if he did come back then that would be a very awkward restart to their work relationship. Fuck what was he supposed to say... fuck it.

"I've worked with a lot of people. Can't say if we have." He answered with a shrug. Definitely not a lie, but an equally vague response. "How is she?"

Johnny figured even a cop would keep his answers vague. Safety in secrecy. "Shaken."

"Understandable." Kyle said. He took out his phone. "I have to go. See you around."

And with that, the two parted ways like strangers.

When Johnny returned he went to get some pain meds, muttering to himself. You stayed on the couch, texting your mom to call you. No doubt she was going to come rushing back as soon as you told her. At least you weren't alone now.

"Should I call work?" You asked, looking over at Johnny. You saw him bracing himself against the kitchen sink. After you shrugged the blanket off, you went over to him, making small noises on your short path like bumping a chair and tapping the wall. Johnny had his eyes closed, like he was fighting a headache. You didn't touch him. You waited for him to change, or react. His jaw was clenched, and he was controlling his breathing. "Johnny?"

Another moment passed, and Johnny let out a small sigh, eyes opening and his body relaxing. After another sip of water, he noticed you were standing nearby. "That guy. I... I might know him."

"The one in the hoodie?" You asked. Johnny nodded standing up straight. "I've seen him around the neighbourhood a few times."

"He lives around here?" Johnny questioned. Could he have seen him in passing and nothing more? No, he'd had a moment of recollection. That was more.

"Just seen him driving." You said. You took a moment to think about it. How many civilians carried around cuffs? You saw him driving in the opposite direction as well. He could have looped around, but why? It was a little odd to call it coincidence. If he was someone watching Johnny, then did he know your attacker? "Maybe he's a cop. Like undercover."

"No cop car though." Johnny pointed out.

"I doubt undecover cops drive regular cop cars. Probably a ghost car."

"A what?"

"Ghost cars. They're essentially regular cars, but the inside has all the gear of a cop car." You explained. Great something else for Johnny to worry about. You carefully reached out and put a hand on Johnny's back. He was still a little tense. "What do you remember?"

"Short conversation... that guy, Kyle... shared a smoke."

"You smoke?"

"Rarely." Johnny said. You waited patiently for Johnny to process it all. "Your mom call yet?"

"No I-" As if on cue, your phone buzzed on the couch. You hurried over, and checked the caller. Not your mom. Your uncle. Great. "Uncle."

Johnny raised a brow as you answered. Your mom probably asked him to call you instead. He came over to listen to the conversation. "Hello? Uh... someone grabbed me on my way to Johnny's... The cops already came and arrested him... Yeah, I'm at Johnny's right now... No I'm fine. I already gave my statement... yes? ...I had Johnny with me, he's an adult... No he didn't say anything, I don't think he did... I wasn't paying attention..."

You went quiet at something your uncle said. You looked at Johnny for a moment, before replying. "No."

The call wrapped up, with your uncle saying you should have been more careful, or stayed home or something. Once the call ended, you just brushed it aside. There was one question that stuck in your head for a while.

"Did Johnny try to kill him?" You answered no.

"Fucking hell Gaz." Simon groaned.

"What was I supposed to do, let her get hurt?" Gaz argued, his head in his hands. He'd interacted with Johnny, and he had to tell his team. It meant he needed to avoid being spotted for a while.

"Soap would have taken care of it." Simon said. Price raised a hand to calm down the lieutenant.

"We don't know that." Price pointed out. "We know he has his instincts still intact. Fighting and hostage is another situation."

"He handled it." Gaz admitted.

"You made a judgement call sergeant. A risky one." Price said. Gaz may not be in the fire, but he was still simmering in the pan. "You gave nothing away?"

"He asked me if we had met, and I told him 'I work with a lot of people; can't say if I have,' and that was it." Kyle explained. Simon rolled his eyes. Kyle, the golden boy. Still being honest while incredibly vague.

"What about the attacker?" Price asked.

"I already gave the police Laswell's number." Kyle said.

"Right. Rest up." Price ordered. "We'll deal with the rest of this in the morning. No doubt Soap is gonna be on high alert now. It's time for the next step."

Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @0wosugarmommymedic0wo @smitten-haematite-quartz @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @dcnocap207 @reaper-chan666 @bestbookfriends @thriving-n-jiving @cutiecusp @shikigami-the-paper-spirit @lolyouranelf @theotheronedotorg @yune1337

[brattypagansub]

*Simon Riley waking up with a head injury that made him forget taskforce 141.*

*Simon walks into the base rec room looking extremely confused*

Simon: *pointing to Gaz* what is Kyle doing here?

Simon: *points to Kate* the hell is CIA doing here?

Simon: *points to Farah* carry on ma’am

Simon: *points to Alex* the fuck is southern comfort doing here?

Simon: *pointing to Graves* why the hell is Billy Bob Thornton hers?

Simon: *pointing to Soap* yes please

Simon: *jump scared by Price* and sadly I know who the hell you are old man. What I don’t know is what the actual fuck is going on?!

[atopvisenyashill]

i think a “alysanne dies giving birth to gael” au is more about at what point does jaehaerys stop trying to hide it and just try to marry saera and how the hell do his kids and the realm react to him losing his mind. for me it’s about exploring essentially the canon dynamic but without alysanne there to force jaehaerys to hide it (bc he doesn’t want her to know). if the only Adult In The Room has died, what happens to Saera in that room and how do Baelon and Aemon react to it, and how does the realm react to it.

but for “alysanne has a heart attack and dies immediately after hearing of aemon’s death” so what happens there is that when baelon drops off of vhagar crying “i killed them all” jaehaerys’ answer is don’t worry, your sister is home 😁 because he went to volantis and told saera he would marry her in front of all of king’s landing if only she stopped being a dumb whore and be his queen instead and she did a line, said “fuck it” and agreed. Rhaenys’ Rebellion will be taking off within 3-5 business days.

[inthewychelm]

i am so willing to ignore my favorite character dying that 911 could wait until five seasons before they bring back bobby and i will be so overjoyed like yes absolutely, this is what i've been Waiting for! alive!bobby arc in s15 i will be vindicated!

[hollowmem]

Amnesia made you grieve again

TW: amnesia, grief, loss of a loved one, medical trauma, and emotional breakdown

GN!Reader x Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

Day 25: Reader gets amnesia, forgets that their love, Soap, died

The wind howled through the broken windows of the high-rise. Concrete dust hung in the air, thick and sharp in Y/n’s throat. Gunfire cracked in the distance—close, but not close enough to stop moving.

“Movement on the third floor!” Soap’s voice came through comms, laced with adrenaline.

Y/n was already moving. They pressed their back to a wall, weapon raised, scanning. Soap’s silhouette darted just ahead, checking the hallway.

"Clear left," he called.

“Clear right,” Y/n answered, then added "You good?"

Soap glanced over his shoulder with that crooked grin, eyes sparkling even behind the grime on his face. “You kiddin’? Haven’t even scratched the paint.”

Y/n rolled their eyes, but couldn’t help the smirk tugging at their lips.

Then— A flicker. Just a glint. Up high. Across the next building.

The world snapped into focus.

“Sniper!” they shouted, voice shredding through the comms.

Instinct hit before thought— Y/n lunged forward, shoving Soap hard in the chest. His eyes widened as he stumbled back behind cover.

Then, Pain.

A punch to the shoulder. The air left Y/n’s lungs as they hit the floor. Blood bloomed hot and fast through their gear.

Soap was on them instantly. “No no no—stay with me!”

His hands pressed to the wound. The shouting over comms turned frantic. Ghost’s voice barked something. Price cut in sharp.

“You’re gonna be okay, love, stay with me.” Soap’s voice shook, but his hands were steady.

Y/n blinked up at him. Blood in their mouth, cold creeping in.

“I got you,” he whispered, like a promise. “You’re not going anywhere.”

Y/n closed their eyes, and the world went black.

The next thing they registered was rhythmic beeping. Soft. Steady. The smell of antiseptic and something sterile stung their nose. Footsteps, quiet ones, shuffled somewhere nearby. A voice murmured. A curtain rustled.

Their body ached—dull, distant pain that flared sharper with each breath. Chest tight. Shoulder burning. Mouth dry as ash.

Then— “Hey. Easy now.”

That voice. Familiar.

Y/n's eyes cracked open, vision blurry and whitewashed under the ceiling lights. Their head pounded. Their tongue felt too big for their mouth.

“Price…?”

The blur beside the bed shifted. Came into focus. It was Price. Beard a little more gray than they remembered. Eyes heavy, tired, but soft. “Yeah. I’m here.” He stepped closer, careful. “Just breathe. You’re safe.”

Y/n blinked slowly. “What happened…? Where’s Soap?”

The world stilled.

Price didn’t answer at first. He looked toward one of the nurses, gave a subtle shake of his head. She nodded and slipped out, drawing the curtain part way closed behind her.

The quiet got heavier.

Y/n tried to sit up, panic pressing at their ribs. “Where is he? He was right there, I—there was a sniper—he should’ve been right behind me—he said I’d be okay—”

“Y/n,” Price said, gently but firmly, pressing a steadying hand to their uninjured shoulder. “You need to listen to me.” Their heart thundered in their chest.

“You’ve been out for a week,” he said slowly. “But… that mission—the one with the sniper… that wasn’t last week.”

Y/n stared, confused.

“It was two years ago.”

Silence. Beep. Beep. Beep.

“No,” they breathed. “That’s not—no, that’s wrong, that was just—Soap was just here, I saw him, he—he pulled me out—”

Price’s voice cracked just enough to betray the weight of what came next.

“You’ve had a head injury. Bad one. Docs said it might… mess with your memory. You’re remembering the day it happened. But not what came after.”

Y/n’s mouth went dry. Cold started to seep under their skin.

“I don’t…” They shook their head. “I don’t understand.”

And then—quietly. So small it barely made it past their lips “Where’s Soap?”

A beat.

Then the shatter “He’s gone.” The words didn’t make sense.

Y/n blinked, eyes glassy and wide. “No.”

Price didn’t move.

“No,” they repeated, shaking their head harder, voice rising. “You’re wrong—he was there, he—he was with me, I pushed him, I saved him, he said—he said I was gonna be okay, he was okay, I saw him—”

“I know what you saw,” Price said softly.

“No, you don’t!” Y/n snapped, their voice cracking. Their hands fumbled for the IV, the monitor cables. “Get this off—get this off me—I need to find him—I need to talk to him—”

“Y/n, stop—”

“Let me see him!” Machines started to beep faster. One of the nurses pushed back through the curtain, a look of worry on her face. But Price lifted a hand, keeping her back.

“Don’t sedate them,” he said firmly. “I’ve got it.”

Y/n was halfway out of the bed before the pain knocked them back. Price caught them before they could fall, holding them steady as their breathing hitched and their body trembled.

His voice dropped low. A whisper not made for battlefield commands, but for the pieces of someone breaking apart. “He didn’t make it, love.”

Y/n went still.

“Six months after that mission. You were back on base, still recovering. Soap went out with Ghost, a quick op. Supposed to be. They were ambushed. He didn’t come home.” Y/n stared at him like he was speaking a language they’d never heard.

“I’m sorry,” he said. And then it hit. Like a freight train. With no warning.

Y/n broke.

The sob came without breath, without grace—just raw and full and empty. Their hands clutched at Price’s jacket like it was the only solid thing left in the world.

He didn’t let go. Just held them tighter, already on the edge of the bed with Y/n pressed into him—his arm still around their shoulders from when he caught them. His other hand came up to shield the back of their head, grounding, steady, like he could hold them together just by staying still.

And when the sobs finally began to fade away, Price’s voice broke the silence. “I’m here,” he said quietly. “And I will help you get through this again.”

[mutant-okuri-inu]

Remembrance

Sigma squeezes Soap's hand, looking into his eyes with sadness, anxiety, and sorrow. While looking into it. they're emotionless. He told her he doesn't remember her; he only remembers TF141 and others: Farah, Alex... But why not her? Tears start to fill her eyes, and she tries to hold them back while still looking at him. 

Their blue eyes are still looking at each other; her voice starts to tremble, and her heart starts to pound in her chest. Then it hit her: amnesia.

She can't speak, no words came out of her mouth. But she only can say:

"Johnny..."

Instead of saying his callsign, a tear falls down her left cheek. Sigma's left hand puts it on her carrier plate, where her heart is.

Clentching her fist, she squeezes his hand tighter. Johnny couldn't say anything; he just stared. Just to stare at her, tilting his head, not saying a word... He waits for her to say something again. Sigma grits her teeth, a million thoughts rushing through her head. Seeing a young, kind, sunshine Scottsman in front of her was completely different.

Without a word, she rushed to him and hugged him, wrapping her arms around his waist. To Soap's surprise, he almost stumbles back, shocked. What would he do? Hug her back? Push her away? Stand there and do nothing? Or stroke her hair? 

Sigma's tears fall down her cheeks, crying silently.

"Remember, try to remember me..."

Soap is speechless, he doesn't know what's happening. Then, he feels something... Something extraordinary. Could a hug bring his memories back of her?

"Please..." She whispers one more time.

That's why she's called by the name Halia, a remembrance of a loved one...

PLEASE...

---

A thought of "What if Soap forgets Sigma?"

I've been seeing arts of Soap's season 4 gear. Ngl, he looks different 😭 Somewhere I read, "What if Soap has amnesia?" And I thought, hmmm... WELL *cracks my knuckles* TIME FOR THE ANGST!

[concernedgravy]

Soap was a changed man when he came out of the tunnel… 💚🧼

[luminousbeings-crudematter]

Sooo…here’s an idea that’s been driving me up the wall. and here I am purging it from the folds of my brain:  50 first dates Ghostsoap (& Reader) (sort of)???

(blame @ceilidho and the ghostsoap x reader asks on her blog)

Ghost never does things halfway, so when he injures himself? It's bad. He takes a few weeks to wake up...but he's not himself when he wakes up. He's not anyone. A complete blank slate.

And Soap is forced to just watch. There's no brute-forcing Simon's memory to return, no hard rebooting the brain. It is what is, the doctors say. We have to let his mind heal in its own time.

So Soap continues to watch. He does as the doctors tell him to; he takes off the ring on Simon's finger, wears it around his neck with his own. He pretends to be a friend, a comrade, a subordinate, and on some days they even flirt, and it's like Soap has his Simon back again. If only until sundown.

But there are other days when Simon is in pain so acute, so encompassing that he doesn't leave his bed. Even with no memory of his past life, Simon is tougher than he needs to be; unnaturally quiet despite the pain, and the door to his room on base stays firmly shut. It's on these days that Soap sits outside Simon's room with his head in his hands, digs crescent moons in his palms from how hard he clenches his fists, waits.

You get a unique perspective on the whole thing as it unfolds before your eyes - you were the field medic that saved Ghost's life, after all. You dragged him to safety. You stabilised him while Soap protected the two of you with his life.

But...you're also something different in the equation now. You comfort Soap when he needs it - providing both, a shoulder to cry on and a decent challenge when he wants to spar. He isolates himself from everyone who tries to help him...except you. He's bonded to you in a way neither of you can explain, and he allows you access to Simon and himself in a way everyone else is firmly denied.

And it changes you.

He talks to you about the relationship he used to have with Simon, and you imagine yourself as the third. He talks about dinners they used to cook together and you imagine yourself there, on the couch, smiling to yourself while they bicker. Soap tells you about Simon's hesitance to meet Soap's family, and you're there, your thumb running gently over Simon's knuckles while you wait for the Mactavish front door to swing open.

You fall in love with a version of them that doesn't exist anymore.

You worry that it never ever will.

[istanmyman]

Soap gets Amnesia (Part 2/2)

Part 2 of the ghost/soap Amnesia AU. This time for Soap! 

I think in Soap's case that having amnesia would ruin him in a way. 

He's a social butterfly, a hard working soldier, a man with playful wit and a bit of a short fuse. A man who always has a clear purpose in mind. 

I think that if he wakes up in a hospital bed, surrounded by forgotten faces and with no idea who he is or who he's supposed to be, that it would break him in a sense. 

Where is the line? How hurt must his family and friends be by him forgetting them? How could he go back to a life that he has apparently worked so hard for but has no idea how he got there. 

It's demoralizing in a sense, not knowing what he worked so hard for, and it hurts to see his friends and loved ones struggle because he forgot them. Especially his family struggles and John feels even more guilty when he decides not to go home after being put on medical leave till the situation resolves itself. 

He believes that staying at base might clear the haze around his memories, so that is what he does. As soon as he's physically better, he works hard like he's a recruit again; following his training regiment, teaching himself the basics again, reading through past reports and his journal.

He's getting desperate to remember. He talks with Captain Price, about how much he is still allowed to work, almost begging the man to let him go on as much as normal in an attempt to trigger his lost memories. 

The man's insistence that he must rest has started several arguments. Kyle, apparently one of his best mates on the team, has his back; tells him stories about past missions when he asks, but also answers questions about himself. He leans on Gaz a lot during this hard time. 

The one who he wants to ask the most questions to is avoiding him like the plague. 

Simon 'Ghost' Riley, his Lieutenant. 

He was there when John first woke up and the masked figure had startled him a bit on sight. "Johnny?" The man had said his name with such familiarity, his eyes so hurt when he figured out John had no idea anymore who he was. 

The first two weeks the man had avoided him like the plague while John had really wanted to ask him so many questions; 

Were they close? Friends, maybe? Why were sketched images of the masked man scattered around his journal, a shirt that wasn't his in his room with the words "Lieutenant Riley" on the back. 

Why did this "Ghost" seem to care so much about him, but each time he reached out, he stopped himself and turned his back to John again. It hurt, but John knew the other man was hurting too. He had to be with how he's acting and it is eating John up inside. 

It is why he decides to take the first step after several weeks of dancing around one another. Ghost had gotten back from a week-long mission when John searched him up in medical. His lieutenant had apparently been shot in the leg. 

Which also means that the man can't run away from John anymore each time he tries to hold a serious conversation with him. 

He knocks on the door before heading inside, seeing the man's eyes widen when he notices that John is paying him a visit. John takes a hint out of his own journal, deciding to address the man like he does while writing about him. "Hello, Lt. Heard you had a rough time out there."

"Soap." Ghost greets him neutrally, but John notices the surprise in his voice. "Didn't expect you to visit me." 

"Well, you were there for me when I woke up after being injured." John smiles a bit sheepishly. "Thought you could use some company as well, if that's okay."

“Is fine.” The lieutenant rumbles and John takes a seat on the chair beside the man’s bed.

“Can I ask you something, sir?” John asks, wanting to get straight to the point. He apparently never was one for patience. 

“What do you want to ask?” Ghost says, pretending like nothings wrong, like talking with John doesn’t affect him, but John knows the man is nervous and is trying to conceal his pain from John’s predicament. 

John has heard the rumors, is sure that there was something going on between them and he wants answers. “About us.” John says straight up. “Apparently you and I were close before I hid my head.”

“Is that so?” Ghost says, his eyes narrowing like he’s trying to figure out how close John is implying. “And who told you that?”

“I did.” John says and that has Ghost’s eyes widening. John corrects himself. “Or rather my journal did. Seems like I wrote a lot about you, Lt.” 

Ghost’s eyes flash disappointed for a moment. Maybe he thought that John remembered him again. Ghost quickly catches himself and continues the conversation with him. “What kind of things are you writing about me?”

“Work related things.” John says at first, then flashes a smile, grabbing a small stack of folded papers in his hand and holding them up. “But also personal ones. Found this hidden in the cover of my journal. Tricky to find so I didn’t notice I had hidden this until last wednesday.”

John holds them out for Ghost, or rather Simon, to look at the papers. Ghost takes them from John’s hands and folds the pieces open one by one. 

John knows what they show; drawings of the man’s both masked and maskless face, notes with written down feelings of admiration for the other man, their experiences together both in and off the field and written down moments detailing the love they shared.

He looks at Simon, sees how expressive the other’s eyes can be as he seems to read through these notes for the first time himself. It pains John that he can’t comfort Simon like he once could, that he can’t love him like he once did. 

Simon puts the notes down on his lap and lets out a shaky sigh. The sound has John’s chest tighten. “I’m sorry for forgetting, Si.” He says and it has Simon snap his eyes up to him. “I want to-”

“Johnny.” Simon cuts him off, his voice a calm rumble. “I know. It’s- I know that you’re trying so hard to remember. I don’t blame you for forgetting.”

John has to hold back tears. Simon is clearly hurting, but still tries everything he can to make John comfortable, to keep him from feeling even more guilty for forgetting, because he certainly would have if he had known about their supposed relationship. 

“I’m still sorry.” He says, not being able to not feel sorry about just forgetting everyone. Especially Simon. “Johnny-” Simon tries to interject, but John cuts him off. 

“It sucks." John starts with wiping a stray tear that threatens to fall. “It sucks that I can’t remember, because I miss you. I know it sounds stupid because I don’t remember us and maybe I was wrong about this and it is just me who was hoping for something more between us and I’m currently just making a fool of myself, but-”

Simon leans over the side of his bed and grabs John’s hand, gently pulling him onto the bed and into a hug. Simon runs a hand through his hair and hugs him tight like he’ll fly away if he doesn’t. 

John melts into the contact, burying his tear covered face in Simon’s shoulder. Then Simon whispers into his ear. “I miss you too, Johnny.”

“Then stop avoiding me.” John sobs, hugging Simon back just as tight. “Please, stop avoiding me.”

“I will.” Simon whispers beside his ear. “I won’t run away anymore. I promise.” John feels so relieved by the promise that he can’t help but laugh a little. 

Seems like he’ll finally regain a bit of his life back…or all of it. Not even two weeks later John remembers everything again. While Simon and him have taken the time to explore their relationship for a second time (staying up many nights talking, with Simon doing most of it, explaining their time together and what he loved so much about John. Even going so far as to start over in John’s case, flirting and falling in love a second time with Simon, experiencing what he remembers to be their first kiss again) now it could all go back to before. 

Simon is gone the first time he remembers, which leaves John to tell everyone else first. He fills in Price and apologizes for his stubborn behavior. The man isn’t mad, just glad to have Soap back. John then calls his family and promises to visit soon. He hugs Gaz when he tells his best mate he remembers again and they talk for a long time about old memories they share together.

Then Simon comes back and he can’t wait to tell him. He waits for Simon till he comes to his office, knowing he will have to write a report after his mission debrief and when Simon opens the door John is standing there, ready to embrace him and welcome him back. 

So that is what he does. What he also does is pull Simon in for the longest kiss they have yet to share. He only pulls away when he has to catch his breath and when he does he looks up at Simon with the brightest smile. 

“Guess who’s back to work?”

Simon needs a second to connect the dots, then states breathlessly. “You remember.” Simon immediately throws off his mask and pulls John right back into another kiss, a bright smile of his own tugging at his lips.

[brokenpieces-72]

Night Life

New Neighbours | Navigation

TW: Lashing out from nightmares, conspiracy, mental health inaccuracies, mentions of abusive family members

The next morning Johnny was awake and checked on the kid. Still fast asleep. Good, he wasn’t going to wake them. Johnny got to his morning routine, working out, showering, making breakfast, checking emails and messages for any commissions. A few from the same woman. Honestly he was surprised she always came to him, when there were others with better offers. Ones that could even work for cheaper, but hey who was he to judge? Then there was a knock on his door. Maybe it was the woman with his pay check. At this hour? Still rather early.

Johnny got up from his computer and went to the door. When he opened it there was a woman, with similar features as yours. She looked just as exhausted as he'd been last night. The woman's expression was one of mild distress and concern.

“I am so sorry to bother you this early, are you Johnathan MacTavish?” The woman asked, politely.

“Ah’m but Johnny is fine.” He replied. “Can I ‘elp you?”

“Is my daughter here?” She asked. Oh shit this was your mother. Had you not told her mother you would stay here? Guess there wasn’t a good chance to send the text. Johnny noticed your mother's phone was tracking your own.

“Yes, she’s fine. Sleeping downstairs, tuckered out from yesterday.” Johnny reported. The mother took a moment to sigh in relief, but the worry didn’t leave her face.

“I’m so sorry,” the mother said. Johnny knew where you got it from now.

“I offered to let her stay, she needed the rest. Started nodding off in the car.”

“Thank you so much… has she been staying here more than once?” The mother asked, her concern seemed to be shifting into mild frustration.

“…she didn’t tell you?” Johnny said. Okay so not what he thought. At least he understood why you left so early, it was probably to get home and slip inside somehow without your mom knowing. The uncle probably let you in usually. Johnny's words were quickly followed by you coming up the stairs. When you saw the two adults you paused. The two adults looked back at you.

“Hi mom.” You said, a little red in the face. Johnny raised an eyebrow, sighing and folding his arms. That was all you had for your mother? Hi mom? Your mom sighed, shutting her eyes for a moment.

“Are you okay?” Your mother asked, maintaining her calm.

“Yeah I’m fine.” You said. It was like you were admitting defeat.

“Why didn’t you come home last night?” Your mother asked, while you came closer to the door to get your shoes on. Johnny pushed the shoes away with his foot. Yeah like he was letting you make a run for it.

“Johnny said I could stay with him.” You told her. Not quite the answer she was looking for.

“And the nights before?” Your mom pressed. you just stared off, head lowered. Your mother sighed in response. “I swear… I’m sorry for all of this Mr. MacTavish. Truly.”

“Could ya tell me what’s been goin’ on?” Johnny asked looking between you and your mother. You just kept avoiding eye contact from both of them. Your mother looked at you, giving you a quick once over before sighing again.

"Yes. I think we all need some answers." Your mother replied.

Johnny got the run down, and while he wanted to whoop the uncle’s ass, he understood the situation. The uncle worked, you worked but your mom did a lot of odd jobs, that required her to leave home quite often. Your uncle wasn't exactly the nicest to you. Your mom never said anything, because he would threaten to leave and wouldn’t support her, which could also jeopardize your welfare. Aside from that, your uncle didn’t pay much mind to you and your mother. So you kept your sleep schedules and locations to yourself because you didn’t want your mom to worry about you or try to argue with your uncle again. Johnny had probably saved your life the first night you stayed over.

You were quiet at the table, while your mom continued to thank Johnny for looking after you. You felt embarrassed. Once again, it wasn’t a problem for Johnny. Some of those Friday nights were fun with you, and having an extra hand with the foster animals was good. If Johnny were to be fully honest, having someone else around made him feel more comfortable, almost freeing. Like in order for him to be himself, he needed someone else to be themselves as well. Maybe it was related to his past, but he didn’t need to drag his friendly neighbours through the very treacherous and foggy road of memory lane. While your mom continued to be polite, her frustrations were expressed throughout, wishing you'd been more forward.

“I’ll get a spare key properly made when I get the chance I promise.” Your mom said, rubbing her eyes. Johnny thought it over for a moment, considering your situation.

“I don’t mind her staying here. If she wants to stay, I donnae have a problem with it. We share work days so I can drive her.” Johnny said. Your mom seemed conflicted with the idea. You needed help, and by the sounds of it your uncle was a jerk. She looked at you, and your eyes flicked back down to your lap. Your mother looked back at Johnny.

“How much would I owe you?” Your mom asked.

“…she could come 'elp me when I do odd jobs. Think that would be enough.” Johnny suggested.

“You’re sure?” Your mother asked, almost stern.

“Should probably get a bag. Donnae wanna to share body wash, people might talk.” Johnny added. The mother nodded, giving him a half smile for that comment.

You returned home while Johnny waited for you at his house. You could sleep at your mom’s the overnight bag was more just in case. You went by yourself, so your mom could sit and relax, and the walk wasn’t too far. If anything you were pretty excited. You didn’t have someone like Johnny before now.

It was gonna be tiring at times, and you would try to stay with your mom as much as you could. The thought of having Johnny around was still really cool.

Your bag was packed and then the front door opened.

When you came out your uncle stared you down. He was unimpressed and judgemental. Often was. You may not be the breadwinner, but you weren’t lacking in responsibilities. Not that he would ever acknowledge it with his 9-5 followed by gambling and drinking.

“Finally running away?” He asked.

You didn’t respond. You never could. He was a big bully in the end. One between you and the door. “Good. Maybe you’ll find work.”

You had a job, but he never seemed to notice even when he came to pick you up. It didn’t matter you just wanted him to move. You just waited. He waited. You turned to go back to your room and he barked for you to stand in front of him. You obeyed, too scared of him. You stood in front of him and he got close. There was liquor on his breath, and you wanted to run out the back door.

“You keep your head down. Yeah?” He said. You nodded. He chuckled and ruffled your hair, his hands making you very uncomfortable. You scurried out the door quickly. As you ran you didn’t notice the car until is skidded to a stop. The driver seemed relieved he didn’t hit you as you waved to him in apology. You gestured that you liked his cap though.

Gaz just nodded and waved, urging you to keep going. Once you were safe, he pulled over to the side of the road and waited.

Johnny let you stay the night with him again. Your mother had some things she wanted to get done, and your uncle was out on ‘business’. After some video games, and bad movies you headed to bed. Johnny had more work for you in the morning to help him with. You laid in bed though with your phone and headphones, relaxing with some videos.

You started to hear noises though. Noises from Johnny’s room. Concerned you got up to investigate, moving cautiously through the house. Johnny’s bedroom wasn’t far from your own in the house. You cracked open the door to see him tossing and turning. Oh no. You opened the door quickly and went to side of the bed Johnny was on.

“Johnny? Johnny wake up! Come on wake up it’s not real!” You pleaded, shaking him awake. Suddenly your were grabbed and tossed on to the bed, and Johnny was on top of you with a terrifying look in his eyes. His hands grabbed at your neck with a firm grip. You felt yourself choking for a moment before the look in Johnny’s eyes vanished and he let go. What had he done? Holy shit, what was that?

“Johnny?” You asked. Johnny let go and got off of you. You didn’t run away, despite everything in your head telling you you should. Johnny had his head in his hands. “Johnny it’s okay. I’m okay.”

“‘M’fine.” He muttered, a little shaken.

“…okay.” You said, not believing him. “…can…could I stay here for a bit?”

“…yeah. Yeah ya can.” Johnny breathed. You just sat there with him, in the dark, letting your breathing fill the soft ambience of the room. Johnny was still trying to steady his breathing. You didn't touch him, letting him work it out for a bit.

"Do you need anything?" You asked. Johnny asked for water so you went to the kitchen to get him a glass and brought it back down, your own legs a little shakey. He took a small sip, sighing and rubbing his face, leaning on his knees. "Does that happen a lot?"

"Ride i' out." He answered, taking another sip. "That one was bad."

"You want to talk about it?" You asked.

"Not for kids." He said.

"Not a kid." You said. Johnny sighed, drinking some more water. His head was starting to ache again. Thankfully he kept painkillers next to his bed, taking one before answering.

"I'm an amnesiac. I got hit in the head." He said, gesturing to the scar on his forehead. "Sometimes I get nasty fucking headaches and dreams, can't explain 'em, cause I donnae remember nothin."

"What are the dreams about?" You asked. That explained the lack of photos in Johnny's house.

"A lot of fighting, noises, and... death. I see death a lot." Johnny breathed. That was a little chilling. You tried not to fidget too much in your seat. "I 'ave an idea of who I was. A soldier."

"Maybe the amnesia is mixing with PTSD or something." you suggested. Johnny nodded in silent agreement. "Can... can you tell me more?"

"Not for kids-"

"I'm not a kid!" You said. "I want to help, the same as you helped me. I want to know."

Johnny looked you up and down. You may not have seen as much as he once had. It wouldn't be fair not to tell you, especially when it could put you at risk. He'd tried to strangle you earlier, you were owed a proper explaination why. Johnny wondered if the guy in his dream had deserved to know, or if the guy had already known.

Johnny got up from the bed, and led you to his conspiracy room. When you stepped in your eyes widened slightly, trying to remain neutral. Some of it was pretty basic, like news clippings, doodles, notes, and a few written pages outlining his recent dreams. On one side of the small room the wall was a little weirder, mentioning the end of the world or an apocalypse. All of it was illuminated by a small desk lamp, on the floor. Johnny stood in the corner, arms folded, the dim light casting him in shadows, like he was trying to hide from everything he'd written and recorded. You just sort of wondered the room, looking it all over, even the crazy stuff that sounded like some government conspiracy.

"Why didn't anyone tell you?" You asked. Johnny stood up straight, glancing around the room himself. "About... any of this?"

Johnny gestured to the wall with the crazy stuff on it. "This, would be my guess."

When you looked closer it was all stuff written and drawn up by Johnny. Scribbles mostly, and a couple of names. The doodles were depicting something that could be used for a scifi film. Weird monsters and some zombie looking things. It looked completely like a conspiracy.

"Kept 'avin dreams about this shit... must 'ave meant somethin'." He exclaimed.

"You think... "they" kept it from you... maybe to protect you?" You asked. Johnny sighed again, feeling a headache coming back. Honestly, he had no clue. You were the only person he'd shown this room too. It was the skeleton in his closet that he'd found in there, but couldn't put a name to who it was.

"Never asked." He said.

"Good." You said quickly. You noticed Johnny was a little surprised in your response. "I wouldn't want a black van picking up at work."

Johnny scoffed a little. Yeah, he didn't want that either. "Just don't go talking about it aye?"

"Never." You answered. "Only with you."

Johnny was satisfied with that agreement. Didn't make his paranoia go away about people watching him. Probably wouldn't for some time. At least it wasn't just him and the skeleton. You asked more questions about the rest of the wall, suggesting your own ideas. Maybe Johnny was part of some secret service. Maybe Gaz was the name of some project for gas bombs. Maybe Los Vacqueros was a drug name. This went on for a couple of hours, before both of you decided to go back to sleep.

Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @0wosugarmommymedic0wo @smitten-haematite-quartz @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @dcnocap207 @reaper-chan666 @bestbookfriends @thriving-n-jiving @cutiecusp @shikigami-the-paper-spirit @lolyouranelf @artzzyb00-27

[recurring-polynya]

24!

24. Which fic do you think is your funniest?

I am sure that if I took the time to consider which of my fanfics has the best constructed humor, or which one employs comedy to the greatest effect, the answer would be something different, but the question is which fic do I think is my funniest, so, unfortunately, the answer is locking eyes, holding hands (twin high maintanance machines), the story where the gang does a live-read of Orihime's Maid Cop fanfiction.

What, exactly, is so funny about it? First of all, it follows the template of the best Bleach filler episodes, which is to say, Ichigo is just trying to have a normal one while everyone around him "Yes, and"s their way through some insane scenario. It's full of phrases that very specifically hilarious to me, personally, from “I have the heart of a canine healthcare worker, loyalty is in my nature!” to "Popsicles are for captains, only." The slow reveal that more and more of the characters keep up-to-date with the fanfic in question. Orihime is the most Orihime I have ever written her. It's named after a Mountain Goats song lyric. Byakuya keeps dryly saying sound effects out loud, except when he's not sure what sound something makes. Ishida's lawn chair collapses and he just stays there in the wreckage of it. Anyway, it's dreadful. It's the epitome of "I wrote this for me, but you can read it, too," except that I actually wrote it for someone's prompt (to this day, I am sorry, poor Anon). Cringe is dead. I have no regrets.

(fanfic writer ask game)

[stiltonbasket]

nie zhuyan makes soaps on the regular after moving to Gusu to marry a-yu? A lot of them go towards various people or groups in Gusu (family members/friends, the baoshi, etc.) though he sells some of the special ones.

I forgot that Nie Zhuyan actually learned how to make soap at some point, so when I came back to this ask, I thought he was making...soaps.

[likely-lowkey-loki]

Will we see that Mobius does know Loki in a past era of the TVA, and then we have to see him go through Protocol 42 and forget him???

I don’t know if I can go through that twice O_o

[bumblingbabooshka]

Kes????????

[saja-star]

a phrase that kinda bothers me when talking about women's historical roles in europe is "cooking, cleaning, and taking care of the children." you hear it so often, those exact words in the same order even. and once you learn a little more you realize that the massive gaping hole in that list is fiberwork. im not an expert and have no hard numbers, but i wouldnt be surprised if fiberwork took up nearly as much time as the other three tasks combined, so it's not a trivial omission.

it's not a hot take to say that the mass amnesia about fiberwork is linked to the belittlement of women's work in geneal, but i do think there's a special kind of illusion that is cast by "cooking, cleaning, and taking care of the children." you hear that and think "well i cook and clean and take care of children (or i know someone who does) and i have a sense of how much work that is" and you know of course that cooking and cleaning were more laborious before modern technology, but still, you have a ballpark estimate you think, when in fact you are drastically underestimating the work load.

i also think that this just micharacterizes the role of women's work in livelihoods? cooking, cleaning, and taking care of the children are all sisyphean tasks that have to be repeated the next day. these are important, but not the whole picture. when we include all kinds of fiberwork—and other things, such as making candles or soap—women's work looks much more like manufacturing, a sphere we now associate more with men's work. i feel like women's connection to making and craftsmanship is often elided.

[impossiblelibrary]

"Loving my potential isn't the same as loving me."

-- Sarah Hawley, A Demon's Guide to Wooing a Witch