#Sorry for vague posting it will happen again. I am truly amazed how badly this fandom cannot fucking read

[misspickman]

How can u make a post talking about how fanon tim is so much more boring than the canon character and then be so fucking wrong about canon tim

[redsector-a]

AO3 Ask Game

I was tagged by @themarshalstale which, thank you so much! I feel like I always get missed on these (I know why, it’s been 84 years since I published anything but still). 1. How many works do you have on ao3?

46 it seems. Which...look I’m slow man so that’s not surprising. lol Also crippling depression does not make for much production, at least for me.

2. What’s your current AO3 wordcount?

309662 according to the stats.

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

So do I could only AO3 or in like life? lol I suppose it should only be on AO3 since this is an AO3 ask game. Hrm. Basically AO3 can be summed up as: Marvel (in several iterations - all Avengers related) Torchwood Highlander But isn’t it more fun to consider my entire fandom life, which, I’m sorry, I’m old so...yeah. Not all of this is was published and beyond that a lot is not available anymore...which is likely for the best. Highlander Star Wars Babylon 5 Ronin Warriors/Samurai Troopers Marvel (again, several iterations also of note Avengers and X-Men both count) Torchwood Star Trek LOTR Stargate (SG-1, SGA) Mortal Kombat I dabbled with the idea of Potter fic but never got past the ideas stage.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1: You rearrange me till I’m sane Clint finds himself spiraling into a deep depression after the Battle of New York...until the Winter Soldier ends up saving him and inadvertently giving him a new purpose – to save the man that the Soldier had once been – Bucky Barnes. Not one to be outdone, the Soldier decides that his new mission is to ensure that Clint remains alive himself. Protecting a blonde man with a self-destructive streak is somehow very familiar to him. Through the back and forth of who is saving whom they cross the country and learn more about themselves and each other – and perhaps find a reason for living. 2: Five Dates Bucky Didn’t Realize He Was on And the One He Planned Himself To say that Bucky was surprised when Clint kissed him was an understatement. But it was nothing compared to the shock he felt when he learned they'd been dating for months without him realizing it.Clint gets whisked away for a mission before they have time to talk and Bucky is left to figure things out on his own - hindsight being 20/20 he can't help but wonder how he missed things the first go around.

3: Puck Luck Bucky Barnes is used to the ups and downs of an NHL season. He's used to the unpredictability of the game, knows that bounces don't always go your way, but that doesn't make a broken hand in the final third of the season any easier to deal with. Especially not when he ends up with an impromptu roommate/personal assistant in the form of one Clint Barton - his agent, Natalia Romanova's (rather attractive) friend he hadn't known existed before his injury.

It's just for six to eight weeks - what could possibly happen in that span of time?

4: Loose Lips Launch Ships

Based on the following prompt: “We go to school together and I think you’re cute and apparently you’re also the pizza delivery guy and my little sibling opened the door screaming hey sibling! you know that kid you’re in love with? you really weren’t kidding when you said his jawline could cut steel holy shit-” Bucky is the pizza delivery guy. Clint's younger (foster) brother has a big mouth.

5: Indelible Bucky Barnes has a pretty decent life – a good job, good friends, a cat that adores him - but something is missing. He’s always found body art to be beautiful and inspiring, and on a whim (and with the hope that maybe he can find what he’s missing) he decides to take the plunge and get a tattoo. That's how he meets Clint Barton. Clint's talented and compassionate and there is an instant spark between the two of them. It's not long before Bucky finds himself wondering and wanting more from the relationship despite the ghosts of the past that crop back up. Because Clint makes him feel normal in a way he truly hasn't for years...

(this was pre-Alpine so I was totally chuffed when canon confirmed Bucky’s status as a crazy cat lady (affectionate).

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not.

I really really really want to do it but I often times don’t end up doing it. There are a few reasons. First, I am akwward AF and bad at interaction adn I feel like just saying thank you would be...not enough? Second - I often times tend to like...turtle (aka retreat into myself) when life gets Too Hard/Busy which happens a lot to me (sigh) and then I miss the vague window in my mind in which it would be okay to respond and then it’s even more weird. I do love and cherish all of them. Like there was one months ago that made me go “hmm...I didn’t think I was going to do a sequel to that fic (You rearrange me till I’m sane), timestamp glimpses sure but a sequel hadn’t come to mind” but then the comment made me think! So...who knows? lol Anyway, I literally have been rereading some in an effort to try and get myself going again. Know that if you have commented, I love you.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

At the moment? Probably: Look at you look at me Bucky's in love with Clint - problem is he's really not supposed to be. For Winterhawk Week 2019 - Forbidden Love (I really don’t want to give away the spin in the fic but...if you’re familiar with the Secret Avengers Vol 2 run circa 2013ish (aka when SHIELD initially ‘took control of the team’) that’s a bit of a hint as to the spin). Were it done, Torch Song would be up there. ;) Torch Song Clint is sent back in time, via an alien device, to 1938. While he tries to figure out how to get back home, he takes up singing and entertaining to make ends meet and does his best to not disrupt the timeline.Then he meets a 21 year old Bucky Barnes. --- A torch song is a sentimental love song, typically one in which the singer laments an unrequited or lost love, either where one party is oblivious to the existence of the other, where one party has moved on, or where a romantic affair has affected the relationship.

7. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve ever written?

Does *wanting* to write crossovers count? lol I want, so badly, to do more crossovers and fusions (which...are kinda deeper versions of crossovers in a way). The only one I do have posted is a crossover between Highlander and Torchwood -

The Immortal Mr. Jones A series of vignettes (some long, some short) in the life of the newly immortal Ianto Jones. My most ambitions project that I have been working on since late 2011/early 2012 is a fusion of the Avengers with Stephen King’s the Stand. I will get that done at some point *shakes fist*  The Stand, for those who don’t know it, is an epic 1000+ page novel about a flu epidemic (I know) that wipes out over 99% of the population and then two figures representing Good and Evil pull the survivors in two directions for a showdown. So basically it’s a non-powered modern AU set in that universe. It’s a passion and comfort project. lol

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yes. Well, minor bitching back when I was in a prior fandom because I tagged a pairing in a fic but it was pre-slash and not labeled as pre-slash. I got hate on...I think it was Torch Song? And I’ve gotten hate on tumblr re me and my fic in general as well. Fandom! *jazz hands* Oh! And I’ve also been hit by those reviewers within Winterhawk (among general Clint pairings actually) who like rate you on either number scales or the “meh” scale. Which isn’t hate exactly but...it’s passive aggressive bullshit because I can’t believe none of them realize at this point that the authors can see their bookmarks - you know?

9. Do you write smut?

Yes. Do I write it well? I have no idea. lol

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I am aware of. Well...there was, I think, one of those reposting sites that had a few fics on it but I don’t think it was being passed off as someone else’s? I can’t quite recall. It’s why I have a note on AO3 about reposting my work anyway.

11. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not entirely, but sort of. Let me explain - I am part of a PBEM game; which for those unfamiliar since it’s a term that was most heavily in use 15-20 years ago, in which you basically do a round robin type writing thing but rather than everyone writing the same characters you write your own characters and you play off what other people have done. Another way of looking at it is  it’s basically DnD without dice and written down rather than done out loud. You also don’t have to all be around at the same time. It’s a lot of fun and yes I have been in it for 20 years even though there aren’t many of us left but they are some of my dearest friends and fabulous writers. Wins all around.  One of the other writers and I have actually toyed with the idea of doing a co-written fic actually, mostly because we work super well together and keep getting ideas for things but can’t really do them as rpgs since the pbem style isn’t used much anymore.

12. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Winterhawk probably. Though, let’s be real - Han & Leia are epic and amazing as are John & Delenn (from Babylon 5).

13. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Does wanting to expand The Black Stallion books as a wee child count? lol Not much of that was written save for world building ideas but there was a great oral tradition of telling stories to my friends. Otherwise...maybe a tie between Star Wars and Highlander. Star Wars was a love since I was super young but the writing bug didn’t hit me until around the same time Highlander was a thing as well.

14. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written? You rearrange me till I’m sane for sure. Though Torch Song, if it were finished, would be tied I imagine (I suck at picking favorites). Honorable mention to Puck Luck and Indelible. Tagging: I have seen this like a million times (okay 5) so I feel like everyone has been tagged already that I know. But...I guess... @vexbatch @crazycatt71 @heartonfirewrites and @disruptedvice sorry if anyone has been tagged before.

[hobohumanitarian6]

This is a long post so please be warned!!! I need to get some things off my chest....

⚠️ TRIGGER WARNING POSSIBLE⚠️

Feedback to this post is open-ended. You cannot offend me and will not be blocked.

⭐ So here's the thing: one of my late grandmother's friends just posted that her 29 year old son died in his sleep with seemingly no explanation. This really shook me I guess. For one, I used to hang out with this kid during the summers a lot. My specific memories are very vague, but deep in my consciousness I know that I have called him friend in the past. For another, many things lately have been prompting me to ask the difficult questions ie

Why in the fuck am I here?

What's the meaning of it all?

When is my life going to get better?

How do I prepare myself for better things?

Am I blocking me or is something else blocking me?

What am I doing wrong that the universe doesn't think I'm ready for a new chapter?

Am I really with the right person?

What about the afterlife?

Am I going to be silenced or speak out?

What if I can't do some of things I want/dreamed of?

What is going to satisfy me if my future doesn't go as planned?

⭐ I've been doing quite a bit of soul searching through all of this, established the framework of the person I want to be and

BAM! 🧱 💥 🏃🏻‍♀️

Straight into a fucking. Brick. Wall.

⭐ I am in one of the worst continental states in the US (by even statistic) and before all of the shutdown and pandemic began, I had plans to be relocated with my new job, a place to call home & reunited with family by June 1st. Clearly that didn't happen....

⭐ I am spending $900 a month for a 250 ft² motel room just so I am not out on the streets.

Homelessness. Can we talk about that for a second? People getting arrested for being out past curfew because they don't have a place to go, put in jail because they're in the way, not tested or treated for the virus because they generally have no insurance, giving people loads of food stamps so the emergency assistance funding is broke-

600 dollars of groceries is a lot if you have a fridge, freezer, microwave, oven, toaster, etc not if you have to buy your food from overpriced convenience stores and gas stations and fresh food from grocery stores that 70% of the price is for the packaging it comes with!!

Soup kitchens closing because they don't want to risk contamination. Who's feeding those without a hot meal? Do they realize malnourishment is the quickest way to get sick with any pathogen!?

Shelters closed because of overpopulation. Domestic violence homes turning battered women and children away because there's too scarce of resources and funding. Yet people care about big corporations going bankrupt? Please tell me what the difference is between a goddamn human fucking life and a couple lawsuits because you didn't know how to prepare for an ever-changing economy.

Thank the universe i am sheltered with minimal resources to take care of myself and I have a steady job due to an enormous company's "chance on a down-in-the-dumps contractor." This job I have held steadily for a year despite chronic health issues has been the best thing to happen to me by far in a long time. I am definitely not by any means complaining about my job or that I even have life necessities right now. Several million don't have that.

⭐ The problem with this state is there are no resources for a person who's struggling to make an honest living. I lost my apartment two years ago because I had to take a medical leave of absence at my job then, got behind on rent and was evicted without a chance to catch up. The power was cut three nights before I had to leave, and I owe a deposit on the electric company to get any type of service back in my name. The realty company who owns the apartment complex will not allow a payment plan without a fraction of the principle paid down, so therefore I cannot apply for private or realty housing and I have been on the waiting list for federal housing assistance for 3 years without a single word. I also had my bank card stolen with my ID when I was trying to catch a bus to work a few weeks after that so whoever it was made small purchases that my bank applied interest and late charges to so that is also standing in debt. Thank universe my current employer allows direct deposit to a savings account at a bad credit institution or I'd be royally fucked.

⭐ Before I made the hard decision to doll out almost a G a month just for a room, I tried sleeping in my pickup. I even took the effort to pallet it for a platform bed & make benches to live in free campgrounds, cemeteries, truck stops, boonie dead ends, and behind abandoned buildings. I had a 12V converter that I connected to a rice cooker and made a tin can stove to grill small portions of meat on a single-egg mini skillet. I kept getting chased off by rangers, cops, annoying people trying to do crack and not get their lives better, and eventually violently detained for "suspicious activity" - I was thrown on the ground, put in handcuffs, patted down by a male officer with no female present, searched my vehicle without consent & written a citation: this was 2 am, I had a campsite reservation, I was clearly sleeping & my vehicle was current. The officers did not give me their name or numbers so I could not make a report.

⭐ I have chronic health issues - hip dysplasia & hyper mobility (not severe enough to be EDS), anemia, rexhia (NOT PRO ANYTHING), pre diabetes, H.S, BPD, PTSD, endometriosis & chronic migraines. I have filed time and time and time again for medical assistance but have always been denied. Every time I try to see a doctor, they claim I have this-or-that infection caused by this-or-that disorder, sent to an overpriced pharmacy with illness-irritating antibiotics that just keep me in an unending cycle of flares and barely-managable pain. Do not let anyone privileged or wealthy confuse you - you are not treated the same if you don't have coverage. Sorry to say but it is indeed a fact.

⭐ With this job I work 40-50 hours a week, eat as healthy as I can on a dime sized budget, and cover all my expenses. Yet I cannot move forward in this state on to better things. I want so badly to have a family, to go to college, etc but I cannot do this with living month to month someplace that isn't even my own.

⭐ The emotional affect this has had on me is tremendous. I am embarrassed of my situation, and never allow any guests in fear they'd judge me. I never take any photographs, which is heartbreaking because it has been one of my long-time hobbies. I am extremely guarded and I lie about small details to protect myself. I have severe trust issues and I always hold a dagger at my waist because I have to assume any minute you'll pull out a Glock.

⭐ Naturally I am an empath and this has brought me more compassion and understanding than I ever thought possible. The police brutality against people of color and racism in socio-economic programs truly breaks my heart because as a white female and all the struggles and discrimination I've endured, I can only begin to understand it's 1000x harder for people of color especially. I stand behind your protests 100%. I beseech you, go fight for what you deserve! I will be begging higher powers for your protection indefinitely!

⭐ I have gained a new perspective on non-profit organizations and volunteer work. Some are truly amazing and their stories move people to tears; others are truly wicked stealing from the poor, embezzling cash flow for their own vanities. Please please please research the charity you are interested in thoroughly before getting involved. Volunteer work will always be appreciated- and will teach you many invaluable lessons. If you help these organizations and need help yourself: respect yourself, hold yourself high, and ask for the assistance. They will generally be more inclined to help. If you are turned away, try not to be bitter. Administrators only do as they see fit.

⭐ That's another thing - bitterness. This has been the most vile and roughest character default I've ever had to battle with myself. When you've been through the shit and you can't see the sewer (sts) it's so easy to stay in the dumps. It's so easy to feel entitled because you've clawed your way to the top. It's easy to feel angry with everyone because it's you vs the system. It's so fucking easy to give up completely and stop trying and just lay down and die. It's easy to step in front of a two ton bus, oncoming freight train, taking the entire package of extra strength Excedrin not because you have a migraine, but just not to feel a thing, go completely numb for one single second. It's easy to go down to the head shop and get a nickel bag of weed to chill and get a 5$ pizza and forget you have responsibilities.

IT'S SO FUCKING TOUGH MAN

⭐ Growing up strictly religious, I tend to shy away from Christianity or other "preachy religion" now. I hate having Jesus shoved down my throat at a service before a hot meal on a Tuesday night and the "speaker" automatically assuming I need to stop smoking crack and going to jail and get my life back on track and God will bless me when I'm in the 46% who has never been to county and hold a job while trying to get back on my feet.

ADDICTION IS NOT POVERTY GUYS

I still support people who go to church and speak in tongues if that satisfies them. I still support people who are strictly vegetarian and make a pilgrimage to the mecca if that satisfies them. I still support people who have 7 two week long feasts a year for something that happened 4000 years ago if that satisfies them. I still support people who believe in baptisms for the dead and not drinking coffee if that satisfies them. I still support people who call Jesus the Nazarene and believe that Lucifer the Dark Lord will prevail if that satisfies them. I still support people who call down the power of the moon into their plant babies and give thanks to the triple goddess if that satisfies them. I support religion or practices of all kinds.

I believe I was meant to be tolerant and be good to others. That this life will give back what you put in. That there is a higher power that governs all and it is up to you to determine just what that is to you. Not to tell people what is wrong with their lives just based on your personal story.

⭐ During this pandemic, I have done a lot of soul searching. Journaling, listening to podcasts, listening to seminars on values I'd never know existed, trying to discover who I am. This journey has included empathy training, reiki, yoga, somatic movement, feldenkrais methods, and astral meditation. I just have a list of these questions I'd like answered or given suggestions to:

What do you believe is the meaning of life? Is there any philosophers, speakers, teachers, theologians, writers, musicians etc that can help answer this?

What is your definition of religion in it's rawest form?

Do you know of any resources I may not have thought of?

Is there any criticism you can give good or bad?

Am I focused on one thing and neglecting another?

Do you have any further opinions on the topics listed above?

Do you have a suggestion of the next right step?

Do you have ideas on how I can help with the aforementioned problems?

How do I stop feeling like I'm wasting my time?

How do I find contentment in everything should I die tomorrow?

What is your opinion of the afterlife?

How do you find happiness in the midst of bullshit?

What did a friend/relative/mentor tell you when you were going through an existential crisis?

Have you felt trapped too? Due to the covid or otherwise?

Any curse words, songs, books, movies, etc of use?

🌸🌸I sincerely appreciate any feedback 🌸🌸

[deveharrington]

[5 new theories] + Ok anons, I will heed your advice and take a break. Thanks for all the responses, good and bad. I also apologize for my last theory. Consider some new theories in light of new info?

Before I fully relax, and I am typing this from the HMS DavidDuchovnyFrustration’s jacuzzi, let’s do some more mental gymnastics! 

I always want to adjust my perspective in light of new info. So, following the release of the beach photos from August 19, I have some new thoughts. 

Would it sound crazy for me to say that these pictures are actually making me doubt my own previous theories? Ok well everything I say probably comes across as crazy. 

My imagination just outruns me, I love being proven wrong. I think I need it lmao.

So here are my most recent theories in response to the beach photos. 🐶 ⛱️

(Also, I will not post the actual photos because I simply refuse to and because I am a big baby)

💣 [THEORY 42] It means nothing. 

I propose that, right now, he is in a state of (and a potentially dangerous level of?) apathy and neutrality. This neutral state of being is a bad combination with his already very laid-back nature. 

He is going nowhere, and this could lead to frustration. And if David cannot face his feelings or be honest with himself, he may just seek “thrills” or instant gratification (a.k.a. this “relationship”) to balance the frustration. Thus, a vicious cycle is born.

Also, the stress of his career being stagnant right now might  be causing him to seek comfort through instant gratification. He does not seem to be attempting to build things up for himself. I see no progress. 

What if, in this, “relationship”, he literally does not give a shit?

*** OR, he had already been apathetic BEFORE the relationship, and the inception of the relationship was a product of that!!! ***

As in, SOMETHING may have happened to make David revert to “I don’t give a shit” mode. HMMM.

Onto the theory, David’s “laissez-faire” attitude has always been a prominent topic of interest to me, and most likely for the sole fact that I myself am the complete opposite. But live and let live. I guess i’ve always paid attention to it and now see it as related to this situation.

David has always been laid-back in the past. I think that is his true nature. But in the past he was also balanced by having a career, purpose, and engagement in life. Right now I see no career, nor purpose, nor engagement (and when I say “engagement”, I mean the action, not the term in the marriage sense).

It’s all “laissez-faire”, or, in his own words, “it can mean anything”. He may even be saying one thing to Monique but feeling another (more on this later). 

I am really going to go ahead and quote Cowboy Bebop here, lmao: 

If you love someone, you love yourself. 

If you hate someone, you hate yourself.

I said, “I don’t feel anything towards anyone.”

Bull said, “That is the greatest misfortune on this earth.”

Ok, let’s try to be fair and not too dramatic right away. I’m not saying David has no feelings, for sure he has feelings for his family or loved ones. But could the apathy be the reason why he seems distant from them right now? Or perhaps them distancing themselves from him is CAUSING the apathy? Again, just propositions and not facts. 

For David, the reality of the situation could be that he has convinced himself he has some semblance of “feelings” for Monique, however, of course I attribute these “feelings” to delusions or excuses for the obscene nature of the relationship. 

In which case, it could be argued that, if David is telling himself he does have “feelings” for Monique, it could be a rationalization that he is so desperately wanting to force himself to believe in order to avoid the truth. The truth being that he himself was not strong enough to fight against this situation. He succumbed and maybe asks himself why. I hope he is asking himself why. 

Now back to the neutrality stance. 

💣 [THEORY 43] WHERE/WHAT IS HIS CAREER?

These are also things I have questioned:

- Him taking the cancellation of his movie in stride. Maybe I am just overlooking the complexities of the movie making process and downplaying how hard it is to actually get a movie made. But David has all the time, means and reason to do so. I just don’t see David as the kind of guy to accept obstacles, especially when it concerns his passion projects. So, is there something more to this? 

- David seems to not be aware that his own fans have not received their CD’s. Again, I don’t have all the facts. But what is this? And again, David has all the time and reason to pay attention to his music career but he doesn't? 

- Also, is he working on an album (or anything?) for the future? Maybe he actually is? lmao, I have no idea? What i’m saying is, where is the progress? Where is the drive? 

It is like he is just wandering around, an aimless, organic vagabond. 

But I really love to listen to David talk about his music. I see his music as a genuine artistic expression coming from him. As an artist and art lover myself, I feel one the best things about art is that is reveals who you truly are.

I think I may make a separate post about this to elaborate, what I’m saying basically is that I feel what he says about his music and music making process are genuine feelings coming from him. It is not just what he says but the way he says these things, it reveals a lot about him, and the reveal is positive. I see a genuine vulnerability. Otherwise, sometimes his statements can come across as loaded with unspoken messages or intentions.

So here are some quotes from David himself on his music making process. I use them because I see them as genuine expressions coming from him. They are not recent, I just am showing them to illustrate the foundations of his laid-back attitude.

- “Why not?” - As an explanation of why he became a musician. Could he also have just said, “why not?” not his “relationship” with Monique? And, when the times comes for him to want to break up (and it WILL happen, right God? RIGHT?), will he also hopefully say, “why not?” ?

- “I don’t like having things explained to me.” - Like social media? hehehe. Like Monique’s social media posts? hehehe. Like how Brad Davidson is scamming your fans? hehehe. 

- “I didn’t want it to feel like work at all.”

- * “It can mean anything for anyone” - What if David is being so liberal that he is giving both Monique and HIMSELF the freedom to have their own reasons for their relationship? And if this were the case, then it is not much of a “RELATIONship”, now is it? 

I said in the first thesis that he deliberately keeps his beliefs vague so that he doesn’t have to take full responsibility for his choices, reasons and actions. As in, if he keeps his intentions open enough, he can displace blame onto others if things go wrong. 

For example, he may dole out some high-minded poo poo on the age gap along these lines: “age is arbitrary and has no meaning. The spirit is what connects” etc. Implying that somehow, SOCIETY and their ~ lack of enlightenment ~ would be what’s really to blame for their animosity towards an age gap relationship. This is all just for the illusion of openness. An illusion to disguise the lack of desire to take responsibility. 

If David wants to say that what he does can mean anything to anyone, then I want say this relationship means nothing to everyone.

This theory could easily be challenged by the notion that, if David were really in this neutral state, then he may try to assuage himself by seeking thrills. So, could the age gap component of the relationship be seen as a potential thrill for him? (UGH, sorry). And I guess I can’t ignore the physical component of the relationship, which not only appeals to his ego but must of course remind him of his younger, more reckless self (I am really sorry). To me, it connects, but others may see it differently. 

💣 [THEORY 44] *** I propose a single massive difference between Gillovny and Davinique. And to be fair to David, this is not fully in his control:

Gillian could not bring herself to trust David completely (due to his reputation and her own insecurities), but Monique trusts him completely.

And maybe Monique trusted him completely from the start? Maybe it is as simple as she may not be fully informed of his reputation? Is she just really enamoured? Or is she simply not old or experienced enough to see a person as a complex being with flaws. Maybe David is lying to her about his flaws. He lies to himself about his flaws 😇.

(Thank you to a user, who wishes for their identity to remain private, that proposed this amazing theory to me. I love getting ideas like this that I would never have come up with myself.)

Could it all be as simple as a personality difference between Gillian and Monique? I always saw one conflict between Gillian and David being her excessive worrying/insecurity clashing with his excessive laidbackness/cockiness. 

So, if Monique is more in line with David’s attitude, then he may feel relieved that this conflict that was so prominent between him and Gillian is taken care of. 

But that is not really my focus with this theory. 

This theory at least clears a lot of smoke for me. Part of the pain of this situation was, for me, imagining David hurting Gillian very badly (when she was already potentially very insecure about their relationship) over some nonsense “relationship” with Monique, but what if it really, truly, and literally, Monique means nothing to David. However, this would imply that David was the one to betray Gillian first by getting involved with Monique and I actually do not believe this was the case. 

On that subject, the next theory will explain:

💣 [THEORY 45] Who, between David and Gillian, performed the fatal action that was Gillovny’s undoing? 

Could the final blow actually have been enacted by Gillian? and... intentionally??

I know the common theory is that this is all David’s fault. But what if Gillian dumped David or pushed him away prematurely out of her own suspicions and misconceptions that stemmed from her insecurity of being involved with him?

💣 [THEORY 46] Davinique in the wild?

Could David’s “relationship” actually have most of it’s meaning in Monique’s head, and not David’s? (contrary to what I proposed in the first thesis.)

I propose this because, looking at the beach pictures, David is not paying attention to Monique. 

I know they are just pictures, a single fraction of a single second in time. And I am probably just seeing what I want to see. 

But I was not expecting that level of non-acknowledgment between them? Did they know they were being photographed? (Personally, I don’t think they knew because neither of them, especially Monique, is looking into the camera. Nobody from the group seems to notice the camera either). So, if they were not aware they were being photographed, do we finally have evidence of Davinique in the wild?

I just really want to believe this for now. I was expecting to be hurt by the pics but noticing these small subtleties actually made me feel better. 

[Some random thoughts on the beach pictures]

- This is an objective observation: good for Monique for being in shape, but the fact that she has a masculine body frame (square torso) that is also quite built up is not helping me deny my theory that David is enjoying having sex with himself. (i’M SORRY!!!)

- I just couldn’t contain myself at seeing an image I see very commonly at my local lake: a group is separated in two, with the adults on supervision in the back, fully clothed, wearing hats, sitting in lawn chairs and talking amongst themselves. Meanwhile the kids are sprawled out, enjoying the sun, and playing with the dog. ooooh boy David what is this shit lmfao. 

Thank you, anyone who reads this! 

[rosey-writes]

Shocking Revelations

((Hello everyone! This is my first story I’m posting on this Tumblr, and I am so excited! Avery is brought to us via the amazing writer @slashesotron for the @badthingshappenbingo space, electrocution. Warning ahead of time for electrocution, bone breaking, and general uncomfortable sexually charged torture, though no penetration happens.))

Synopsis: Eliot, a Brooklyn street rat with more moxie than muscle mass, finds himself far from his usual healthcare facility after his last streetfight. With a EMT he’s rather sure is more of a danger than the stab wound

He heard the thrum of electricity before he felt it.

“Fuck!”

It hurt. Fuck, it hurt, the sparks traveled around every pore as he arched off the metal table. What the fuck, what the- what?! What was happen-

Then, like bubble pricking a needle, it stopped.

His vision was basically a cotton candy mush of colors and vague shapes. His glasses were AWOL apparently, not that it mattered much when he could feel his heart stuttering in his ears. Where was he? What, what, happened?

He closed his eyes, trying to steady his breath as he heard footsteps putter around him. It was far from a unique situation for him. Being five zero in Brooklyn, with a high propensity for sarcasm and a low bar of self control, meant getting into a lot of fights. And, once again, being five o’, in Brooklyn, meant losing a lot of fights.

He couldn’t remember much about it, but, he hoped at least the other guy got it as bad.

“Ugh…” He went to reach his arms up, hissing in pain from the ache in his bones, but found his wrist was bound down to the table. Huh? What? That...that was new. Maybe they were just pissed cause last time he woke up he may have accidentally punched the nurse...personally, he’d find that stupid. He did more damage to his own fist than his face, but whatever.

The smell of antiseptic was stained into the room, which helped to ground him where he was. Just another day at Long Island Central, he guessed.

“Ellen, is Axel here yet?” he groaned, trying to roll over on his side, but the wrist locks kept that from happening. Same old routine: Eliot gets into the fight, they ship him to Long Island central, they give poor overworked Ellen to him because she’s the only one who could deal with his temper tantrums, Axel runs out from work at the skateshop and coos over him and plays him my little pony because he’s still convinced he’s five, Bravon comes over next and slaps him so hard on the back it breaks his IVs, and Achilles comes in last to pick them all up a couple hours later. Wash, rinse, repeat.

“It’s okay, A Stór.” He felt the soft ridges of fingerprints glide on his cheek, before he felt a prick in his neck. “You won’t need him to make you feel better now.”

What?

Alright, now, now he was confused. He wished he had his contacts so damn badly, why didn’t he just stick with them instead of wearing his stupid glasses. Something about all this was starting to feel...off. Really, really off. There was the sound of dripping water somewhere in the distance, the room didn’t have the same chill to it all those white-walled hospital rooms did. The walls weren’t even white here he realized, they were soft pinks. The sweet smell of antiseptic wasn’t from cleaning product, well, it was, but it wasn’t cleaning the room, it was mixed with the mint of toothpaste, softer scent of detergent. The antiseptic was on the fringes like an afterthought, something clinging.

So then, what was the blue he was seeing? And why did he feel so...heavy. So, so heavy...

He woke up again an hour later. He could see. Not too well, but there were contacts in his eyes. Probably not his exact prescription, which made the headache worse, but, whatever, it was better than nothing.

The room was pink, little hearts and flowers woven on in a lighter shade. There was a matching pink ceiling fan whirring overhead, his eyes naturally tracing the blades round and round. He tried to lift his arm again, but...nothing happened. His eyes flicked over to the wrist, still above his head, but, there was no restraint holding him down. Why couldn’t he move it?

Alright, stay calm. Maybe he just broke that one. Woudn’t be the first time. He was so hopped up on painkillers he couldn’t feel it, maybe. So he tried the other one. And his leg, his other leg, his torso, anything, but nothing would budge.

Fuck.

His heart was beating, at least. He could hear the steady thump in his ears, the only sound in the room until he heard a door slide open, but, since he couldn’t move his head to check where it came from, he had zero clue where.

“Eliot Santana Swift,” he heard a heavy irish accent  read off behind him, in a calm, terrifyingly calm voice. In the hospital all the nurses, doctors, EMTs, everyone, had the same drawling tone, the mix of bordedom and forced hospitality, even with the ones who truly cared, it was a soft, mothering tone. This wasn’t that. This was...excited. This was the kid on his way to Disney world, playing their music with their earbuds in, tapping his foot as he watched the Mickey Mouse Ear electric pole pass. “Age: 22. Race: Mixed. Height: Five Foot. Weight: Ninety Three. Allergic to shellfish. This sound about right?”

“Who the fuck are you?! Where am I?! Where’s Axel?”

“Oh, right, you probably don’t remember me. I’m Sebastian, but please, call me Avery. I promise, I’m just here to take care of you.”

That was when he knew where the blue came from.

The guy was tall. Really really tall, and that was coming from a family of giants. Limbs long and gangly, neck thin, and eyes icy cotton candy baby blue, in a shade that made his stomach turn, as the hearts on the walls reflected into the black of his pupil, burning down onto him. His breath was sweet, colorform sweet, and he was pretty sure if his stomach wasn’t dead as the rest of him at the moment he would have hurled. He stood at the edge of the hospital bed, head tilted just so the glare of his glasses shone across his freckled face.

As he felt his throat dry up, It wasn’t hard to figure out what was happening now.

“Sorry about the restraints earlier.” The man took a seat, baby blue as well, sliding next to it and brushing back a lock of Eliot’s hair. “I didn’t know you were allergic to the muscle relaxant I had, so I had to run out to get more. Since you didn’t react so good with the last one, we had to give your heart a little start.”

He booped his nose. This six-something psychopath just booped his nose.

“You reacted so well though, you’re such a good boy. Just a little bit more and you’ll be ready.”

He shouldn’t get angry. When he got angry, he did really stupid things. Stupid things like insult the guy with a knife. “Just let me go you fucking freak, my family will come after me, Bravon’s a streetfighter, he’ll kick your-”

“And if they do, they’ll see I’m just helping you.” The man, monster, whatever, kissed his forehead. “I saw you on the floor, Eliot, I saw you bleeding there. They stabbed you, and you were yelling at them to come back and fight you like a real man. You wouldn’t let me hold you, you were coughing up blood but you didn’t want anyone touching you.” Eliot wanted to say something, to scream, but he felt his muscles freeze and voice go dry. “I talked with your brothers, they were the ones to call. They told me all about you, just how strong you were when your mommy died and daddy left. You wouldn’t let anyone else help you, even though you were the baby of the family you insisted on taking over everything.”

“What are you, a stalk-”

“Now you don’t have to.” He stood, now, and it hit him just again just how screwed he was in this situation. “I’ll take good care of you, I promise. No more twisted ankles from twenty hour shifts, no more broken noses from fights, no more burns, I’ll keep you safe.”

“...how...how did you know all this-”

“They’re in your medical file, silly.” He laughed a little, as he reached behind him, out of view. “And Ellen talks about you a lot around the breakroom. She showed me the picture of you in that Izaya cosplay once, it was cute.”

Please don’t please don’t please don’t-

“On a more serious note though,” he said, as he started to stick little band aids attached to wires onto his legs and arms. “I also saw the suicide attempt report. I’m letting you know right now, you’re not doing that while you’re here, okay? We’ll talk through whatever you’re going through. I wish I was there when you did it, I would have helped you then, but good thing fate brought us together now, hm?”

This was it. He was going to die. He finally started giving a shit about his own life and he was going to die.

“Before we do anything though, there is something we need to take care of.”

That. Was a hammer. And he was going to be sick. A bit, thick, heavy hammer that he lifted like it was a soda can, which Eliot couldn’t even open himself oh god, what was he going to do with a-

“Wait please no-” Black. He couldn't hear anything. If sound had a color, it would be blinding, bottomless black as he screamed and screamed louder than he ever had. He’d been hurt before, badly, but not like this, not- he couldn’t hear anything but his own screaming and sobbing, as the hammer slammed down again on the other ankle, then the knees. He tried to squirm away, tried to move, get away, fight back, something, but all he got back with the crack of bones.

“...oh dear…” he heard, with the shuffling of fabric, barely, under the sound of his own sobbing, the gravely irish from his side. “I didn’t think it’d happen this soon...you have a pretty voice you know. Really, really pretty.”

“Y-You f-fucking l-lunati- oh fuck.” The pain kept throbbing, both his legs.

“We’re going to need to work on that language of yours.” That was when he saw it from the corner of his eyes, the large wet spot at the crotch of the other man’s pants.

“You get off on this you sick fucking freak, oh fuck, let me the fu-”

With a long, drawn out sigh, Eliot saw a large, big knuckled hand descend on his face, covering his mouth. “Since you’re going to be living here now, I want you to call me my name, okay? Avery. I want you to say it.” He pulled off his hand.

Eliot spit. “You psycho-”

Sighing again, the monster pressed a button on the table. Like that, Eliot’s world went white. Searing pain rocketed through him as he whimpered, screaming out again, tears slipping down his cheeks.

“Please say it,” Avery cooed softly.

“A-A-” the electricity turned up higher. “Avery! Avery okay Avery please stop please-”

The relief he felt when the shocks cut may be the best high he’d ever had. He was breathing hard, wheezing really, closing his eyes to try and block away the goofy smile, the dick leaking precome all over the tiled floor. The pants were off now, he saw it bobbing from the corner of his vision. It wasn’t small.

“You’re being so good, now. See. Doesn’t that feel good?” A hand was massaging his shoulder now, slick from sweat and tears, before he felt his hand be lifted, wrist pressed to Avery’s lips. “You feel that, Mo Cuishle? It’s your heart, it’s my heart too, ours. I’ll do anything to keep it beating.”

Let me go let me go let me-

“Alright, you’re so strong, I think we can go again, okay? Just a little bit longer, I promise, then I’ll make you feel so so good. You’re making me feel so good, can you see it?”

He kept his eyes shut.

“Eli, please, I need you to look at me.”

“I don’t want to.” His voice was soft, it sounded pathetic, he knew it sounded pathetic as hell but for once he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Please, for me?”

With a stuttering breath, little hiccups coming out against his will, he managed to pry them open, blurry eyes focusing on the icy ones above him. “See, I knew you could do it. Just one last thing for now, I promise.” There was come now. He could see it, dripping down his thighs. Avery was coming off this. Off his tears.

The knife dug into his thigh. Not too hard. Somewhere deep in the repressed recesses of his mind, he felt a little warm giggle bubble up, knowing he had to be going this soft because Eliot was still healing from the stab wound. He forced eye contact the entire time, a hand gripping his chin and keeping it locked. Avery’s eyes didn’t even move from his own, trained instead on the dip of his lips from the whimper, crease of his eyes from the cringe at the sound of squelching blood, warm and thick, dripping between his legs and pooling on the metal floor below him, before the eye contact finally broke, and Avery’s head moved, laying a soft kiss where the wound lie, looking back up at him with painted red lips.

“I know you’d be the one.” He traced the wound mark, which now he realized was three letters carved. S.A.W. “I promise, I won’t let anyone else ever hurt you again.”

Somehow, despite being a cynic his entire freaking life, he believed him. And nothing ever scared him more.

[bazypitchandsimonsnow]

Part of Your World

Chapter 4: poor unfortunate simon

Rating: T

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Word count: 2432

Chapter 4/11 (All chapters)

Summary: Simon makes a life changing decision.

Read on AO3

AN: Well I finished my last exam yesterday, so in celebration, here's the next chapter early! Yay! Tbh I also felt the last chapter was too short/not enough happened so and I wanted to give y'all something new sooner. And from now on I'll be posting every Monday and Thursday! Double yay! Hope you like this :) PS: Creds to @carryonmylovelies for the incredible chapter title. She's a lot smarter than me, obviously.

———————————————-

“Simon? You in here?”

Penny stuck her head through the door, and her heart sank. It was worse than she thought. When she saw David come home alone fuming, she expected something bad. But this was just beyond terrible. Everything Simon had collected over the years, all the things he loved, were destroyed. The merman himself lay at the centre of the wreckage like the eye of the hurricane, face in his arms. Simon’s soft crying was the only sound in the room.

“Oh, Simon,” she sighed as she sat next to him. “I’m so sorry.”

He whimpered, burying his face further into the ground. Penny placed a hand on his upper back and rubbed soothing circles

“Why would he do this?” Simon whispered. “ I-I wasn’t hurting anyone. It was just stuff. Does he really hate humans that much?”

“I guess so.” She picked up a piece of debris next to her, half the prince statue’s face. She traced a finger over the sharp cheekbones, thin lips, and piercing eyes. “Destroyed your new one too, huh?”

His head snapped up and he snatched it from her. Penny backed away defensively. Simon looked at it mournfully, tracing a finger over the features. It was the last reminder he had of Baz. And his father had destroyed it. Out of spite.

“I hate him, Pen,” he muttered. “I really hate him.”

The ground shook slightly under Simon, his magic responding to his anger like usual. Penny was startled. This was the first time Simon had actually said he disliked David. Not an indistinct grunt or groan, but an actual statement against him.

“Yeah, I get it, Si. He did a really horrible thing. You can stay at my place for time being.”

Simon didn’t respond. He looked at the bedrock intensely. The thoughts were tumbling around his head like a hurricane. Sorting and choosing and rationalizing, all in what really was a few seconds. They filtered down to one conclusion. One stupid, reckless, amazing conclusion.

“I want to go to the surface.”

Penelope sighed. “Simon, that’s very risky. I know you want to replace this stuff, but what if a human spots us or-”

“No no no.” He shook his head rapidly. “I want to go there...to stay...”

She kept staring at him confused. He saw the revelation slowly hit her, eyes widening and mouth falling open.

“Oh my stars!” she yelled, jolting up off the rock and floating over Simon. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?!”

“Yes. Transformation spells are a thing, it’s possible”

Penelope rubbed her forehead, trying to smooth out her increasing number of worry lines. “You cannot be serious.”

“I am! Penny, I want to leave, so badly. And I...I want to see, him again.”

“Really, Si?!” She put her hands on her hips. “You want to become human and possibly leave your home forever for some pretty boy prince?!

Simon swam up to her level, throwing his arms skywards. “It’s not just that! I’ve never liked it down here, you know that. I’m a useless merman who can barely throw a spell. A-And Father is the worst. I can’t bear living for his stupid imaginary war anymore! I just-I just need to go there, to get away, and...to get to know Baz better.” His head and arms fell down. “I can’t get him out of my head, Pen. I want- I need to know if there’s a chance.”

Penny swam back and forth, running hands through her hair. “Simon this is totally insane! You’ll be giving up your tail, your magic, your life, just to go be with some human prince you’ve seen once. I mean, how can you not see the problems here?! I know your father’s an arse but that doesn’t mean running away forever! Why can’t you just stay here? Where you’ll be safe and...” Penny finally turned to look at Simon. Her heart sank at his wide eyes, at the way his slightly open mouth was curved in a desperate frown. “And...totally miserable.” She hung her head and groaned. “Fine. I’ll help you.”

Simon gasped, then promptly tackle hugged her, hurling them through the water. “Thank you Penny! Thank you thank you!”

“Don’t thank me yet, Si. I need to find and do a spell first.”

“You will, I know it. You’re the bestest spell caster ever!”

Penelope rolled her eyes with a smile, shoving him her. “Yeah yeah, no need to butter me up, I’m already helping you.”

Simon tugged her hand. “C’mon c’mon let’s go!”

Penny sighed. She always ended up doing the craziest things with Simon. But this would definitely top the list.

———————————————-

Penelope’s family spell collection was insane. There were hundreds of tablets with hundreds of different spells. That’s where all her family members were now, wandering around the ocean, finding and creating new incantations like the majority of merfolk so. Which gave the younger merfolk free reign of the spell room.

Simon and Penny sat with many pieces of stones surrounding them. Simon tried not to let his eyes glaze over but it was getting very difficult. He scanned over the words looking for a clue, any clue. But soon, his prayers were answered. He stopped at one spell. It was just what he wanted, created for a lovestruck mermaid to be with a human. Perfect.

“Pen! I found it!”

He raced over to her, shoving the tablet in her face. “Jeez Simon, let me actually read it.”

She looked the writing over, chewing on her lip nervously. Simon watched her intently as his heart beat so fast he feared it would burst. “So? Will it work?”

Penelope sighed and nodded slowly. “Yes. But...”

Simon’s face fell. “But what?”

“But it only lasts three days. For it to become permanent, he has to fall in love with you and prove it by kissing you before sunset on the third day. That’s a lot to do in so little time. I’d be surprised if this spell ever worked.” Simon made a sound far too close to a whine. She sighed. Why must he be so pathetic and adorable at the same time?

“I mean,” she said, scratching her chin. “I could push it to five days with some work. Give you more time. But you’d still need to get him to fall for you, and kiss you. That I can’t change. And...extending the days means you’ll have to give a sacrifice.”

“What, like for a power source?”

“Yes. It’s the only way to make it last longer. It needs to be an offering or show of faith. To do something this big you need to be willing to give up something big of your own.”

Simon had vague memories of his Father’s lessons. (He only ever half paid attention). Yeah, that seemed right. Spells that were strong, reality altering magic sometimes needed an extra push. And without aid from an outside power source, like David’s trident, you would have to relinquish a part of yourself. It was a quid pro quo.

“So what do I need to do?” Simon asked, determination in his blue eyes. “Cut off some hair? A finger? Let some blood? Give my soul? I hope it’s not that. I like my soul.”

Penelope rolled her eyes and shook her head, swishing her purple curls. “No, it’s not ever something so physical, Simon. Did you actually listen during your lessons?” Simon frowned, and Penny immediately felt terrible. He didn’t need to be put down any more today, or any more period. Which only reinforced why she had to do this. So she petted his hair, and felt relieved when she saw him smile.

“Well,” she said, “my Mum said a good sacrifice is usually a sense or ability. Like sight or hearing, or a skill you’re proficient at, like spellwork. The willingness to give up stuff that big is strong enough to enhance a spell. I’m not sure what you could do. I think-”

“What about my voice?”

Penny’s eyes went wide. She stared at Simon, looking at him blankly for a long time, before realising he wasn’t kidding. “What?!”

“What if I give up my voice? As the sacrifice?”

“Simon, that’s- I don’t know...”

He shrugged and looked down sheepishly. “I mean, I’m not good with words anyway. And of course I want to see and hear him. But he doesn’t need to hear me speak. I can use my other ways to talk, I guess. And-And it’s not like I’m good enough at spellwork for the sacrifice of it to be enough.”

“Si-”

“C’mon Pen, nothing else will work. We both know that.”

She rubbed her lips together, racking her brain for an alternative. But he was right. Taking anything else would be too much of a hindrance or not powerful enough. Penny sighed, then nodded. “Alright. Help me set up the ingredients.”

———————————————-

Penny tossed the entire glass bottle into David’s cauldron. The smoke within brewed and churned. Another beaker added and it turned green. Simon watched with absolute fascination. Only his father had ever done something like this and it was only once.

Penny held the sea cow tongue, the final ingredient, in her hand, just over the pot. But she was unmoving. Simon furrowed his brow.

“What’re you waiting for? Throw it in!”

“Simon,” Penny said. Her tone was sympathetic, that of a worried true friend. “Before I finish this, are you really sure? Do you remember how transformation spells work? Once it’s cast, I can’t turn you back, nothing can. You’ll be stuck unless the time runs out. You’ll...” She closed her eyes, biting back her more morose emotions. “You’ll lose everything you know, Si, possibly forever. So, are you are really, really sure?”

He took a minute, truly letting Penny’s question roll around in his head. Yes, he did know how transformation spells worked. He knew he’d be stuck as a human for at least five days, and yes, possibly forever if the spell was completed. He could permanently lose his magic and his tail. All for the world he’s wanted to learn more about since he was 11. As well as for a new person he couldn’t get out of his head.

There was only one answer.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

Penny tightened her mouth, nodded, and finally, she tossed the last ingredient into the stone pot. It exploded in a mushroom cloud of bright greens and blues and purples. It roared like thunder, swirling like a storm. Simon backed up. He couldn’t help but be frightened.

“You gotta say something, Simon,” Penny yelled over the noise.

“Like what?”

“Anything! Just needs to be continuous.”

One thing popped into Simon’s brain. It was a simple vocalisation constantly stuck in his subconscious. It always sounded like it was sung by a woman. Simon sometimes wondered if it was his mother. And even Simon, with his harpy screech of a voice, could copy it.

He sang.

A smoking green hand reached out from the pot. It was bony looking with long claws, twisting towards him. Simon had to stop himself from running, remembering he wanted this. Getting away from David, going to land, meeting Baz, it was all worth the fear. It had to be.

The hand reached down his throat. It was like he’d inhaled a whirlpool, pulling and sucking within his windpipe. He couldn’t think or breathe or do anything but wait. And then he felt it, when the magic took hold. In one second he was singing the remembered song, and in the next he simply no longer could. His own voice was yanked from him, a piece of himself literally ripped away like it was nothing. As if it was plucking a mere hair from his head. The hand left his throat and held his voice out front of him. It was now a tiny golden ball of light, held between two smokey green fingers. He meant to say “Neptune’s beard”.

But no words came out.

The hand turned fiery orange, charged with the power of Simon’s sacrifice. It pulled back into the smoke soup, leaving the tiny sun floating aimlessly. Penny gently took the the orb and shoved it into her shell necklace. A spell only needed an act of sacrifice. So she could save the voice itself. What could she do with it? Who knew. As far as she knew, no one had ever gotten a sacrificed returned to them. Maybe it couldn’t ever be given back, even if the spell timed out. Simon could be voiceless forever no matter what. But she’d save it, just in case, for her best friend.

The smoke roared louder, becoming nearly deafening. Bright light washed out everything else in the room. The room vanished around Simon. Everything happened too fast. An orange bubble snapped around his whole body. The sensation and texture of it reminded him a jellyfish. The pain came next. It felt like a something sharp slicing right through the middle of his tail, splitting the limb in two. It was beyond agonizing. Simon screamed and screamed, but only released more silence.

And just like that, it was all gone. The room was back to normal, with no zero multi-coloured light or thunder. Simon flapped his arms and kicked his feet. His feet, attached to his long human legs. He kicked them frantically, trying to keep himself afloat with their relatively weak power. And...

He couldn’t breathe.

Water filled his lungs instead of passing through them like usual. He clawed at his throat, his eyes bugging out at his friend. He tried to speak with only a look. “Penny I can’t breathe, I can’t fucking breathe!” Penelope gasped and rushed towards him.

Simon's vision started to fill with black spots, his limbs familiar and new becoming heavy. He could barely feel Penny grab him and swim them up out of a hole at the top of her coral house. She swam faster than she ever had before. The water rushed around them as they rocketed towards the light of land above. And soon they burst through the ocean surface.

Simon took a deep gasping breath and came back to life. He floated in the water, new legs treading weakly, still panting heavily. His head slumped onto Penny. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and gave it a squeeze, saying “thank you” with the simple gesture.

Penny patted his hand. “You’re welcome, Simon,” she said, her own breathing laboured. “Let’s get you to your prince.”

Simon nodded. Then he promptly passed out.

———————————————-

AN: Simon is human and voiceless! What will happen next? Well, I know what will happen, I wrote it. But all of you will find out next Monday :D