#but yeah that's gotta be what kicked off her habit of doing so for the rest of her life

[nkogneatho]

Y'all know those insecure girlfriends on tiktok when their boyfriend does their makeup accurately, they go “what bitch taught you that?” yeah, Gojo is the male version of that.

He knows he is attractive, and that everyone dotes on him. But you look out of this world. Everybody wants you. Like all of his friends have tried to hit on you a few times. They said it's just playful, but his insecurities kicked in.

One evening, you showed up to one of his totally unserious basketball games with his homies, cheering him every time he dunks.

“Suguru, my girl's watchin'. Gotta show off a bit, yeah?” he smirks, licking his lips his reflexes were so good that barely anyone else could keep up with him. It was like he had drank 10 liters of energy drink with the sudden speed boost.

You hopped in his arms when the match was over, peppering his face with kisses as he enjoyed his victory, showing a middle finger to suguru to which he rolled his eyes.

“you look so cool when you jump so high, toru!” you squealed in happiness. He really did look cool.

“hehe, you liked that, baby? Jumped a little higher just for you.” he kissed your forehead.

“hate to say it, but he is undefeated.” suguru spoke up. “feel like we need to put you on the court, y/n just to distract him so we can win.” your cheeks started burning up at that. You and satoru have been dating for a few months, but you were still not used to the way everyone talks about him as if he's a simp for you. well, he is and should be.

“i would still win though.” your eyes shifted to gojo. You were a little offended at that, even though it was just messing around. It was his habit.

“alright. Let's have a 1v1” the men did not miss the shift of your tone. Suguru knew satoru might be in trouble, while the white haired wasn't worrying about it too much. Because you're not too savvy with basketball aside from what he's taught you, and he is a pro. Sure, you would be mad later, but nothing he can't make up to you.

The boys spread in corners, as you and gojo exchanged a competitive gaze—yours was competitive and his was more of a “i love when you get riled up”—before the match began. The game was not anything serious, so all you had to do was score five points. It was a piece pf cake for gojo but you were being surprisingly competitive. You scored two points just as soon as he did. His homeboys thought that gojo was going easy on you but suguru knew he was struggling. But he lives up to his name and score two points, making him just 1 score away from his sweet victory. There's no way you can win now. If you miss this chance, it's over. But you remembered something someone had taught you and all that “i'd still win though” just pumped up enough adrenaline and oh. my. god.

Gojo's jaw dropped as you shot a three pointer, your lips widening into an evil grin, and all the boys cheered at your win. You were sure they're gonna tease him about today until eternity. Toru was impressed…well, for a few seconds before he hit you with a,

“which motherfucker taught you that? because I don't remember teaching you this yet.” you were laughing but his reaction was genuine.

“hey, c'mon now. don't call me a motherfucker.” suguru slid in, a hand resting on gojo's arm. “i'm a good teacher, aren't I?” he winked at you.

“the fuck? When the fuck did you teach her?”

“last week when we were playing at toji's party.” gojo was too busy playing beer bong at that time.

“thank you, suguru. And you…" you looked at your man, "where is allat “but I'd still win though” attitude?” you mocked him.

“ight fine. you got me. i was just messin' around and ya'know that. don't get mad at me, baby,” he snaked an arm around your waist. “we're both winners. We gotta celebrate properly, right?” he leaned closer to your ears.

“now let's see who wins in the bedroom, tonight. hmm? You know i gotta settle the score, princess.”

[archangeldyke-all]

could you do reader taking care of sevika when she's on her period? i bet she would try to be so tough about it but i would just wanna baby her ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh <33 thank u

poor baby sevika :(( it's crazy, u guys always send me period asks when i'm on mine!

men and minors dni

when you first get together, sevika never talks about her period.

she just grits her teeth and bears it, ignoring the aching in her abdomen and lower back, the headaches that plague her for a week, her rapidly changing emotions and cravings.

she doesn't even tell you, only letting on when you're trying to get in her pants, pushing you away with a smirk and a "sorry babe, it's my time of the month."

you gawk at her. she blinks. "wh-- sev, you're on your period?" you ask. sevika nods. "but i just made you build a bookshelf!" you say. sevika blinks again.

"...so?" she asks. you huff.

"so! so you should be relaxing! i should be pampering you! what are you doing? go get in bed!" you demand. sevika chuckles and kisses your forehead.

"you're cute." she says.

she doesn't let you pamper her. she doesn't even let you give her a lower back massage. she insists she's fine-- she's had hundreds of periods in her lifetime, and she's survived all of them. she doesn't need to be pampered.

but you don't give up. you put it in your calendar, tracking it to the best of your ability so that when the next month rolls around, you're ready.

you start subtly. you know that it takes time for sevika to warm up to affection and care, and you're willing to give her all the time in the world. that doesn't mean you'll stop trying, though.

the next month, you're sure to keep her properly medicated. in the morning, you hand her two painkillers before she leaves from work. she frowns at them..

"what're these?" she asks. you shrug.

"for your cramps." you say simply. sevika blinks.

"...how'd you know?" she asks. you shrug.

"i didn't... just a lucky guess."

"you've been tracking my cycle?" she asks with a disbeliving look. you giggle and kiss her cheek.

"well, duh. gotta take care of you." you say.

she takes the pills and storms out of the apartment. (she only storms because she's flustered. when the door slams behind her, sevika struggles to keep a smile from growing on her lips at your consideration."

this becomes a habit. you force feed her two painkillers in the morning, two when she gets home, and two before bed. she always rolls her eyes. (but inside, she's squealing like a little girl and jumping up and down.)

she doesn't admit it to you, but her cramps are nearly unnoticeable once you come into her life.

the next month, you kick it up a notch.

as she's laying in bed, waiting for you to join her so you can sleep, you run to the kitchen to throw a heating pad in the microwave. sevika doesn't suspect a thing until you come sauntering into the bedroom with the pad behind your back and a smirk on your face.

"what?" she asks with a glare, knowing you're up to no good. you laugh as you crawl in bed beside her, sneakily sliding the heating pad over her lower stomach beneath the covers. she jumps, then sighs, melting into the sheets below her. you smile and kiss her forehead.

"feel good?" you ask. sevika hums.

"yeah." she admits. you grin, and then kiss her again, before flicking the lamp off and pulling her against you.

you add the nightly heat pad to your little pampering routine.

the next month, you start figuring out sevika's cravings. now that you're living together, you get a good look into her eating habits and routines. you notice a few days before she's due for her first day of her period, that she's been reaching for sour candies and spicy chips more and more frequently.

so, on your walk home the next day, you stop at a convenience store to pick up a family sized bag of hot fries and several sour candies. you don't make a big deal about it, knowing sevika will try to deny the kindness, you just store the snacks in the cupboards and leave them there for her to find.

the next month, she finally asks you for a little back massage, admitting to you that it's been killing her this month.

you agree eagerly, straddling her legs and gently working some lavender oil into her lower back, becoming nearly as relaxed as sevika is beneath you as you watch the tension in her body melt away.

she ends up falling asleep beneath you, so you decide to give her a lower back massage each night before you place her hot pad on her skin. she's always out like a light by the time you're done, snoring and drooling into her pillow. she's adorable.

sevika stops smacking you away when you sneak your hands under her shirt to let the heat of your hands soothe her bloated lower stomach. instead, she starts leaning against your chest, sighing and grabbing your wrist in thanks.

she starts talking to you more, letting her complaints out to you. she'll come home pouting and complaining of a headache, and you'll pout right back at her, before giving her a gentle neck massage and pulling her onto your tits for a nap.

sometimes, she'll break out on her period, and she admits to you that it bothers her. so you gently paint her face with your favorite hormonal acne mud mask and put her in the bath, handing her a tall glass of whiskey and kissing her sweetly before letting her relax in the candle lit bathroom.

eventually, you guys end up syncing your cycles. you take turns taking care of each other, sevika handing you pills while you hand her a bowl of chips, wrestling to be the first to give the other a lower back massage, soaking in the bath together. sevika doesn't hide her pain and discomfort from you anymore, knowing that you won't think she's any weaker for it, knowing that you'll do anything you can to help relieve her of it.

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

[nexility-sims]

𝐍𝐎. 𝟕   ❛ 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 ❜   |   AUGUST 1991

❧  𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲  /  𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠  /  𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬  /  𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭.

Trish Fitzpatrick wore many hats, but her favorite was “freelance journalist.” Her area of expertise grew directly out of myriad side gigs: what she called portrait pieces of interesting people. Outlets clamored for them—or, they had since she’d buttered up famous, neurotic opera singer-turned-starlet Prudence Boone into revealing she had a glass eye, a secret runaway daughter, and a hair-eating habit. Of course, Prudence was basically a stranger. They had once had a fifteen minute conversation on the deck of a yacht, bonding over the fact that neither actually knew to whom the vessel belonged. Prudence thought Trish’s outlandish suggestions were funny enough to remember her when she called to pitch the piece. It had gone the same way with Renzo. Of course, they had met while fighting over a scarf in a vintage clothing store. Trish considered letting him win to be a debt, one for which she would demand recompense at the ideal time. Opportunities passed, and then August 1991 proved to be the time.

❧ i got the irresistible urge to do renzo backstory, which was meant to be an outtake, but then i was like, "uh, no, this totally works as story proper if i put leonor in it," so here we are ! context and such. given the amount of work, this might be my magnum opus until further notice ... it was also just fun to do :^) checked off the sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll boxes ?? where's my prize. in conclusion, i love my white boy of the week or whatever

𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭 ↓

I grew up in a tiny town—Petunia. Petunia? You say it differently. It’s the country coming out, I guess. Not “pee-tyoon-ee-ah,” it’s “puh-toon-yuh.” Petunia. That’s it. So, how was it? Fond memories? In retrospect, maybe. I wanted to get the hell out of there from day one. What I remember is being very unhappy—dispositionally sullen, not just a pouty kid, but fully down and out. Born that way, probably. And your parents? My parents … Life had the upper hand, man. They were good at losing. I didn’t want that life.

My dad professed to be a traveling salesman—What, he wasn’t? I mean, he didn’t know jack shit about vacuums or whatever the fuck. I don’t know. But, he wasn’t around a lot, it sounds like? Gone for weeks at a time. Just me and my mom. How was she? Not really there either. When I got home from school, she’d pop her pills and be gone until morning. She wasn’t avoiding me; she was avoiding life. She did what she had to do in the mornings—you know, I had what I needed, the bare essentials—but she was checked out. You had a lot of unsupervised time, then. Oh, did I. Too much. I mean, I had books to read, and I got into music early—From her? No. My dad’d blow into town and bring pity gifts. Not kid-appropriate shit, now that I think about it. Heavy, gritty stories. A guitar I was too little to use. Flip lighter. But, you know, I was a kid. I wanted to run and play with everyone else, too. Of course.

Here’s the thing: it was hard to be a scrawny kid named Lorencio in Petunia. Shit, I can imagine. What was that like? … Hard, like I said. Well—Details? I got the shit kicked out of me. Regularly. What do they call it—um—“school of hard knocks”? Yeah. I remember, one time, I limped home on a Saturday. Mom was out of it, but she leapt up when she saw all the blood. Cleaned me up. It’s like I’m there now—in that bathroom with the dirty tile, her burning me with peroxide … She didn’t really talk, you know, not in a serious way? But she did then? She said, in Uspanian, “‘Don’t roll over for anyone.’” Interesting. So, that’s the lesson? Part of it. I realized that summer it didn’t matter if you were scrawny, if you talked funny, if you were poor. What mattered was not being a pussy. [Laughs] Oh, yeah? If you want credibility, if you want respect, sometimes you gotta be able to take a beating. Don’t roll over. That’s right.

I think it also helped when the growth spurt hit. You must’ve still been scrawny. [Laughs] String bean. So it goes. Adolescence . Now, you grew up fast, is what I’ve heard. You could say that. My life changed when Marty got out of lock-up—Sorry, what?—for “teen offenders”; he set his grandparents’ car on fire—oh, I see, regular kid shit—Uh huh. We hit it off. He introduced me to other guys, including Jesse. They’d huff gas together. Oh my God. Not whippits? Sure, but less convenient. That’s—No good, yeah. Fun though. Have you—? I’ve tried everything, Patricia.

Jesus! So, Marty and Jesse…? We got on like a house fire. [Groans] They were into petty crime for the thrill of it—Now, Renzo, is arson petty? He did it one fucking time. Everyone overreacted. They got into trouble for fun, and for you it was—? Money. Not a lot. I was too dumb to consider the risks. But, you did other things for money, too? Don’t say it like that. I wasn’t hooking. [Snorts] I worked a lot. I was cutting school to work, getting paid under the table, all of that. Maybe—hear me out—some of it was thrilling for you, too? I won’t tell anyone. [Chuckles] What can I say? Credibility.

I feel like I’m mischaracterizing … I love Marty and Jesse, to this day. Jesse’s daughter is your godchild, right? Yeah. Marty went back to Petunia in … ‘88? Jesse and I had better luck, or maybe we were just more desperate. Either way, my point is that delinquents get a bad rap—With good reason! Sure, okay. Both of them were deeper and more complicated than that. You’re not an outlier. No. We’re a dime a dozen. No one gives them the chances you got. Uh huh. So, we bonded over that—feeling down and out, like I said, but also the fact that we loved music. Marty’s family had money, so they’d bought him a nice bass guitar. But, Jesse’s mind … He’s so fucking creative. He wasn’t a reader, but I could tell him about something I’d been chewing on, and he’d have a song inspired by it within the hour. He has an incredible voice, too. He does.

I guess it’s not surprising that you guys did what you did. There was nothing for us at home, you know? Packing up and heading out west didn’t feel like a risk. And your mom understood that? Better than anyone. I know people judged her—shit, I judge her, too—but I always knew she was trying. That’s sweet. Is it? I mean, I think so … She met my dad at a bus stop three weeks after she arrived in the country and made the mistake of getting off at his stop. That’s it. That was her crime. Well, I’m sure she’s doing better now, huh? She lives in a nicer house in a nicer city, but that doesn’t cure depression, now does it? I suppose not. There was this woman whose lawn I’d cut all the time … A real bitch, but she was extra nice because she felt bad for me. Hated my mother. I think she was just jealous because my dad was her high school sweetheart. Isn’t that just how it goes? Damn foreigner stealing a real catch from her. [Scoffs] Sticky fingers when she invited me inside for lemonade—cigs and quarters from her purse, Valium from the cabinet, that kind of thing. [Laughs] Casual. It was pretty brazen, honestly. Fucking dumb kid.

Alright, so, you come out here with Marty and Jesse to make music, and now you’re a serious actor with a name and a big career ahead of you. How’d that happen? It was completely accidental. While we waited for a record deal, I did odd jobs, like auto work—you know, in a body shop. It was decent. Had you worked on cars before that? So, I got familiar, uh … [Chuckles] We’ve established I was a rascal. We could get under the hood of a parked car and make a few dollars off parts. I can get you in so much trouble, Renzo! [Laughs]

Don’t tell anyone, come on! I was a kid. Have a heart. I guess it paid off. But, alright, body work? What’s the connection? It’s kind of convoluted. When business was slow, the guy I worked for loaned his employees out to another mechanic. This guy, long story short, brought me along to assist him on a movie set. I guess he was a known quantity? Everyone knows the right guy! That’s everyone’s explanation for where they end up. Me, too. Uh huh. I don’t know why they let me do it, but—Somehow it worked out. Yeah, it did. Right place, right time.

You’re in the spot. How did you get into it, though? This is embarrassing as hell but, fuck it, I’ll be honest. Please. Don’t stop now. [Chuckles] I got a shot because I’d been chatting up this girl who, as it turns out, was the director’s kid—or, in fact, she approached me. I had no idea who she was or why she was there. Of course she did! That’s not surprising, is it? I think I was the most disinterested person there. I don’t know. Anyway, we talked a couple times, then—out of the blue—someone asked me if I wanted to hop into a scene, say a line, ten seconds flat. She did that for you? I don’t know what she did. No one mentioned her. Maybe she thought you looked like a movie star. [Snorts] Fuck. I hope not. Did you want to do it? I wanted to make music. I wanted to finish reading my book. I wanted … I mean, I said yeah. Can’t decline that. Makes a good story, right? What happened with her—? Oh, hell. Sorry! Moving on, for now. [Groans]

I got a call several weeks later about an audition. How did that feel? Bizarre. We’d done a demo for a producer once, but this was different. Were you excited? I was terrified. But, I went. Didn’t get that part, although everyone was perfectly nice to me. How disappointing. You always remember your first … But, hey, you have to look at it this way: I didn’t want to be an actor. I thought it was cool, but it felt like … ? Go ahead, give me a good metaphor. Like when you’ve been craving your favorite food, but then someone offers you a helping of something different, new, appetizing. How’s that? Passable. C-plus. [Laughs] Fuck you, Pat.

Okay, so the road didn’t end there. No, it didn’t. I got another call, and that one went well. This was for … Sugar Sweet? That’s the one. Cornball, but I love that movie. Never seen it. What! How is that possible? You were in it. You went to the premiere screening. There are pictures. Saw my first scene, excused myself to go piss, didn’t come back until the applause had started. Wow. Everyone has opinions about that movie these days—very contentious, whether or not Alicia was in the wrong when she left me and stole my lifelong dream. What do you think? Me, Renzo? Good for her. I thought it was kind of bitchy. It’s peculiar how many women say that. I wonder why … ! Billy’s so dreamy. Please, ask me about something else, Pat. So, this romantic comedy is your launching pad. It leads to the television show. The television show blows up immediately. Walk me through what that felt like?

Also terrifying. I really cannot emphasize enough that I didn’t want attention. I wanted money and time to support my music, and acting seemed like a good way to do that. Just didn’t account for the side effects. Like fame? Uh huh. I was a nobody in Sugar Sweet, and the pay was shit, but it felt like a miraculously good deal at the time. What it did is put me in the running for more serious work. I think, even then, sometimes the casting folks were hesitant to take a risk on someone with no experience whatsoever, even if they had—A spark? Talent? Sure. It was unsettling, the idea that I was some kind of “natural,” and I compensated by working really hard. Well, you’ve established yourself as a hard worker. Sure. I guess they saw that—the improvement, in addition to the fact that I had a resume to speak of by then. Or, eh, they saw that you were pretty. Right, of course, you don’t need talent if you have Teen Mag’s favorite cheekbones. [Snickers] I joined a cast with other people who had very little experience, and we bonded over that. I just didn’t expect to be … What, the center of attention? That, yeah.

You know what’s fucking weird? Huh? Signing your name on a picture of your own face that belongs to someone else. That they’re going to take it home and pin it to their fucking wall or frame it on their bedside table. Someone’s kid treating you like their school crush, blushing and shit while they’re asking for you to do it. That does seem like a strange experience. Over and over again. Teenyboppers, goddamn. You were in the magazines for them. I read a couple interviews. No the fuck I was not. I did not do those. No? What they do is take quotes from actual, consented conversations and stitch them together for their own use. It’s legal. That’s fascinating. Maybe I should try that. Less work. [Laughs] Yeah, alright, flush your “exclusive access” privilege right down the toilet.

But, look, I’m not disparaging the fans wholesale. That’d be unfair. And, ouch, ungrateful? Yeah. The initial couple years were fucking insane, but I was with people I liked, and a lot of the fans we actually met were … Normal? Uh huh. Not a hysterical, handsy, screaming blob. You got grabbed? Groped, Pat. Oh boy. We don’t like grabass, I guess. Well, hold on now, just not like that—You keep sidetracking me. What kind of interviewer are you? I’m having fun with my buddy! Sue me. [Chuckles] You got it, baby. What was I saying? The fans? Yeah. The ones we met one-on-one were cool, usually. They had deep thoughts about the show, you know? Ideas about the characters, the plots—filled in holes in the shitty writing. No offense to Jack and Reuben, I hope! Don’t print that, Pat.

If I’m being honest, having to answer their questions made me think deeply about the role. That’s stayed with me. I don’t like being walked up on in public, but sometimes it’d go fine. The first time someone came up to me in the wild, her mother looked so fucking apologetic that I decided, “Cool it, don’t be a jackass.” She wanted to talk about the book I was buying. Same thing would happen to Frank, Perry, Vicky. How about the show itself? That was a three year commitment.

It was alright. In retrospect, I understand that television isn’t for respectable actors, which made the transition hard. Harder to have been on a show for teenagers. But, you made that switch in Uspana. So, did that play into the calculus at all? I lucked out, in the sense that the show was co-produced, and I got to do the dubbing for the Uspanian version. I wasn’t a total unknown, even if they thought my Uspanian was shitty. Is it? Losing an accent is hard, in my defense.

When my contract ended, I hit the road. You didn’t think about staying on? I thought about it with horror, yes. [Laughs] You’d keep shit-talking the whole production if I let you. Maybe. So, in Uspana? It was like exhaling for the first time in a while. I did nothing for a couple months. All that hard work, being a beloved TV star … Throw me a bone, Pat. But, anyway, I didn’t even see my mom’s family again for a few weeks—You knew them, though? Yeah, we’d met, during the press trips. Beach life by yourself. Luxury.

You know, I needed to reconnect with myself. That’s how I felt. I felt like I had been an imposter, then I felt like I had to be someone I wasn’t, and now … You could go a different way. A fork in the road, for your career. Your life, really. Right, yeah. I went to Canarís like any good tourist. I had more money than I’d ever had in my life. I had no plans. Sounds like a dream. It was.

Crucially, I was out of my mind most of the time. Kite high. So fucking high. I swear I almost drowned twice, at which point it was politely suggested that I stop using the pool. Did you politely agree? Fuck no. [Laughs] Troublemaking aside, I ended up taking phone calls, making plans with people—Industry people? Yeah. There were people I knew already, but meeting the ones I really wanted to work with happened kind of organically—parties, premieres for other films, cafes. At the Morningstar Cafe in Canarís? Right, exactly. Same way I ended up finding The Den. Someone at the cafe had worked with Karolina Teague, and she took me there one evening after we all got tossed out of some poor son of a bitch’s house. Sounds rowdy. Can’t blame him. It was after midnight. And? Well, it was a lunch that’d started at eleven in the morning, so. [Chuckles]

So, I have a question. You’re pretty consistent—in terms of behavior. “Behavior?” [Snorts] Yeah, okay, I understand. What was that like, with cameras on you? The photographers in Uspana definitely aren’t less aggressive. That’s part of it. I don’t know if I’d call it an epiphany, but I left Canarís for Nakawe with the understanding that I was going to just do what I wanted to do. Oh boy. Within reason, fuck. Reason. Sure, yes. You didn’t feel like a dumb kid anymore. I mean, I guess I have more fun with the camera guys here. They can get away with more, ergo, so can we.

I distinctly recall you got arrested for—I barely touched that guy or his fucking camera. Did him a favor, if I did. Dogshit quality device. [Chuckles] Not sure he saw it that way, but the charges were dropped. I mean, don’t get me wrong, shouldn’t have reacted that way. I kept thinking about my mom seeing those pictures … The one time I got picked up, she backhanded me in the middle of the station, right in front of the cops. Jesus. In the car, she goes, “If you get caught again, I’m going to rip your ears off.” Empty threat, I guess.

The Den—I want to talk about that. Please, let’s. Your first time there? It was with Karolina, like I said, and there was a local band playing that night. They’d wrapped up their set by the time we arrived and were just … jamming on the stage, taking feedback and requests from the people who were still there. Some kind of funky jazz mash-up. I liked it. How did it come to you? It opened in ‘57 as a bar and, at some point, it turned into more of a music venue open to a certain segment of Nakawe. The guy who owned it gave exposure to a lot of people who went on to really do something with their art, and that’s why it ended up being a somewhat exclusive spot. Celebrities already knew it and brought their friends. Uh huh. I could stroll up, and the cameras weren’t with me because they were already there. He got tired of that, I think—He was an older fella, right? Yeah. But, really, he managed other properties, and The Den wasn’t his passion project the way it’s become for me. So, you had the money and took it off his hands.

What goes on in there? [Laughs] Pat, you’ve been inside. Well, not for me! If I’m going to describe it to people who’ll never go inside, what would I say? I mean, it’s a hangout spot. It’s a performance venue. We had, uh, mimes last month. Truly gifted, those people. [Laughs] Really? I don’t come up with all of the ideas myself, but I only agree to the shit I’m interested in. It’s kind of selfish, but I guess I’m lucky to know a lot of people who’ll toss in five dollars to enjoy it. It’s something. Compelling. I mean it. Thanks. That’s not all, though. I mean, you describe it as a “haven.” It’s very private. Some of your regulars are troubled individuals. Damn, Patricia, just say it. I feel like a cop! “Do you condone drug use in your establishment?” nonsense. But, well … I’m not explaining it. Either you—they, whoever the hell—get it or don’t. Come for the music, come to unwind however you like, doesn’t fucking matter to me as long as you’re coming with an invitation. I like to go in the back room, close the door, let the music and noise seep through. Muffled. You don’t really strike me as a partier, frankly. You never have. I wouldn’t argue with that. I like parties, but I don’t need to be at the center. Some do. That’s fine. This place is for us all.

Maybe it works out because of that, that you’re curating this space but not necessarily always in it? What do you mean? Well, you reopened it and then, if memory serves, immediately went off to do a film. The party kept going. You just like to know it’s happening. Alright, sure. That’s true. Knowing it’s there … Yeah. I like it. I was in that back room, thinking about the script, when I decided to do it, actually. Life felt like it was falling into place. It was a good time to take a leap. “’You are going to be a cowboy?’” “’No, I’m going to be a farmer.’” I had that conversation a thousand times. Reporters, man. Hey! Everyone was so surprised. I think they thought the premise was … I don’t know, that it just wasn’t something I would want to do? Or, worse, that the filmmakers wouldn’t want to work with someone like me? Unflattering assumptions, sounds like. Can’t blame them. I had a lot to prove. Still do.

How was six weeks in Texict? Fucking heaven. I loved it. My mother’s from the northwest so, even when I visited family, it wasn’t anywhere close. No reason to visit until we dropped in to do the film. Every day, I woke up happy to be alive. Happy to be doing this job. Gorgeous. I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess it wasn’t just the location, was it?

No, you’re right. I felt like I was really acting—for the first time, seriously. Maybe the cast helped? I’d worked with established actors before. The leads in Sugar Sweet were—well, you know who they were. I learned a ton from them. But, yeah, I guess Sasha was the first person I’d worked alongside who had me sweating. Oh? I wanted to impress her so fucking badly. I wanted to keep up, you know? So talented. So raw. She rips every line out of her chest with her bare hands. Bloodbath of emotion. The premise was new, too. Not a lighthearted romance this time. No. We were young parents of a ill child—stressed as fuck, trying to make life work, struggling separately to be together. Can’t lie, I ate that shit up. So did the critics. Hell yeah.

Every nomination felt surreal. The recognition was incredible. Validating. Sasha and some of the others swept up. I was just honored to be up there with them, honestly. Okay, well, let’s talk about Sasha. Do we have to? Yes. Indulge me! [Grumbling] I mean, all I can really say at this point is that I was obsessed, and it wasn’t until it was over that I had the clarity of mind to really wonder, hm, “Was I in love with Sasha, my coworker, or was I in love with Sasha playing Lucy, my wife?” That seems like an occupational hazard. I wouldn’t describe it that way. You take sensitive, delusional, beautiful people, pay them to get vulnerable and intimate with each other … It’s special, even if it’s … Not genuine? No, it is that. It’s not real, but it is genuine. How else can you say, “Well, our schedules don’t line up anymore, but I’ll have this scar of our initials forever?” You do not! No, I don’t. The letter S is really hard to cut without fucking up. Not a sober man’s idea. No.

Since I have you on the topic—hey, no, absolutely not—I’m obligated to ask if there’s anyone in your life right now. How’s that? Women’s magazines can snap this up and stitch it together for themselves. This is a public service. Patricia … Yes, Lorencio?

Look, I know you do your research. I do. I’m very good at it, too. What’s that like, princess pus—Pat. Pat, I’m begging you—Are you obsessed? The letter L is easier, I bet. It is. Would you go with another L or an R?

I’m not talking about this—not for you to print, anyway. Well, talk to me as a friend, then? I’m not just professionally nosy. We’re friends? Who else calls me Pat and gets away with it? You haven’t been Trish in a long time, it’s true … [Sighs] Fuck. Someone can be precious, right? Lovable. You can hold them in your hands and think, “This person matters to me. They’re special. I like to be around them; I like to listen to them; I want their affection.” You can really, genuinely cherish someone.

But? Maybe you find their life to be completely fucking repellent. Unbearable. … Damn.

There’s parallels, though, right? I mean, fame is fame, there’s got to be value in relatability, and—There’s an open mic going on downstairs in the hotel bar right this minute. Let’s take a break, Pat, what do you say? Let’s just go watch some of it. I’ll let you print dick measurements and my deepest, darkest secrets if you say yes. [Laughs] Well, if that’s on the table—

[cultofdixon]

Relapsing back to old habits

Daryl Dixon [PLATONIC] • She/Her Pronouns • Youngest Dixon Sister!Reader • It’s been years since the world fell and Daryl thought you would tell him anything that bothered you. But here you were finding out your brother found your stash • ANGST/SFW • TW: Relapses / Marijuana / Scars / Injuries

Requested by: Anon

“Y/N?” Daryl called out when he entered the house after taking his morning watch. “I could use a hand with the snares around the gates”

Nothing. Which…was weird for his sister. But even then, she’s not the excited little girl that would come running at a full sprint to greet her brother anymore. She still would greet him with her presence minus the bone crushing hug.

To be honest with you, Daryl wished she didn’t grow up in the conditions that she did. Let alone grow up in an apocalypse. The end of the world changed everybody.

Daryl decided to make his way to her bedroom to see if she was in there. The Dixons stay with the Grimes given Carol moved to the Kingdom. The two help with the kids, ever since Rick’s disappearance.

It was a lot.

Whoever didn’t feel for Michonne, was just an asshole. Imagine finding out you’re pregnant while your husband explodes.

Then there’s Daryl, you’ve lost so much in this lifetime that the closest thing to a brother just is gone with zero remains…who knows what’s he’s battling internally.

The last thing he’d want is to lose his sister in all this mess. He wanted to spend time with her in that moment but not finding her was irritating him.

“Where is that girl” Daryl frowns knocking on her bedroom door only for no reply so he decides to open it.

He likes to remember when they used to live in a one bedroom apartment with Merle.

During arguments Y/N would storm off and close her door in Daryl’s face that it annoyed him to where he’d tell her “don’t make me remove this door”

But he never did. Hell, he added a lock to the door because of Merle’s high escapades getting more aggressive

Daryl checked around the room for any signs of her leaving but even if Y/N is an adult now and doesn’t need him to know where she’s at 24/7…it’s a security thing for her for him to know. Her calling card is leaving her lucky rabbit’s foot that he got her during their prison days on her night stand to tell him she’s still around. She doesn’t leave the community without it.

As he went to pick it up, he kicked something under her bed and while part of him shouldn’t check it. He decided to do so anyway.

To Daryl’s surprise…a rather unpleasant one

“Fuck…” Daryl frowns opening the box to find her stash. It was two boxes of smokes, a baggie with what he assumes to be weed, and the obvious lighter. I thought she quit he only started to feel worse.

The fuck you have there?!

U-Uhm. Weed?

Y/N. You didn’t get that from Merle did you?! His shit is always laced with something! Please fucking tell me—-

No! I didn’t! I got it from a friend…I wasn’t going to smoke it

For the love of whatever god out there. Don’t ever.

Daryl it’s not going to kill me…

“C’mon Dog, gotta grab my gear before Daryl comes” Her voice echoed the hall causing Daryl to freeze in his place knowing damn well he won’t be able to escape.

Dog nudged the door open with his snoot and stared directly at Daryl. He found a Mal pup in the woods and thought Y/N could use a companion when he was gone looking for Rick.

All the eldest Dixon could do was stare directly at Dog and wait for his sister to shortly come in to notice the staring contest. More importantly the box where she keeps her stash being open in Daryl’s lap.

They’re just cigarettes, bubs. You smoke them

Yeah, don’t mean by baby sister should

As much as I appreciate you being the father figure in my life over Merle. You gotta realize it’s the end of the world. Once the pack is gone, I won’t do it anymore.

You promise?

If it helps you sleep at night, Dar. I promise

Y/N was now the one staring blankly at Daryl as she shoves her hands in her coat pockets not uttering a word. But also not freaking out either. She didn’t want this to become an argument so she walked toward him taking the box from his hands and setting it on the nightstand. Next to be grabbed was her rabbit’s foot as she attaches it to her belt loop on her pants.

“My bow is downstairs, I gotta pack my bag. Mind waiting down there?” Y/N knew what his original intentions were, given Aaron was informed what he was doing and when he saw her walking the community he informed her of her brother’s whereabouts.

The eldest Dixon decided to listen and leave to meet her downstairs.

Soon the two were walking the woods tracking a deer, Y/N glances every once in a while toward Dog who happily trotted beside her in a sweater she made for him. Ignoring the worry filled silence coming from her brother. She seems to have to break the silence more nowadays.

“Any news? On Rick?”

“Nah…was thinking of expandin’ my search. Go further up the river”

“Mm.” Y/N frowns turning away from her brother to check some damage done to a tree to see if it’s a walker or something else.

Daryl watches her carefully noticing her saddened expression after telling her plans about heading further away in the search for Rick. He only snapped out of it when they heard the snap of twigs and spotting the deer.

Before Daryl could even ready his crossbow, Y/N stopped him which he then noticed the two babies with the deer.

“You promised”

“So did you” Y/N frowns walking away to go further into the woods without disturbing the deer and in hopes of finding something else.

You said you’d stay this time

I am gonna stay. Michonne just had RJ and the community needs help.

Is that all?

What do you mean?

The end of the world took a lot from me too Daryl. The last thing I’d want is to lose you too

You won’t ever lose me, bug.

You don’t know that.

Y/N…what do you want me to do? To reassure yea that I’m not going anywhere.

Please just stay. Go out until nightfall, come home at the end of the day. Just so I know you’re alive and not…

Okay. I promise.

You better not be telling me what I want to hear.

Bug, I promise.

The arrow pierced right into the raccoon as the squeak it made only hurt Y/N. But meat is meat nowadays. As she went to retrieve her arrow and her catch, Daryl couldn’t hold it any longer.

“Why’d yea hide that stuff from me?”

“Because I’m an adult. I’m allowed to have some privacy with my belongings”

“Fine. But you said you stopped smoking. Hell—-You’ve got weed! Where the fuck do you come across that?!”

“That’s none of your damn business!” Y/N snapped at him as she felt the regret, she felt the pain she’s been internalizing—numbing. “I can handle myself, Daryl. I ain’t an addict like Merle. I ain’t gonna go crazy and tear myself apart just because of some marijuana and cigarettes”

“How can you be for certain?”

“Because my brother never coming home does the job” Y/N felt the tears come on as she quickly turned away to try and stop them. Daryl tried to rest his hand on her shoulder but she pulled away. “You ain’t the only one to lose Rick, but why does losing that man mean I have to suffer and never see the only blood I have left”

“Y/N…”

Y/N tensed to the sound of crunching as Daryl quickly readied his crossbow and shot at the sound. One of many squirrels they’d be getting out there. As he passed her to grab his catch, her tears fell.

“When we found the prison, you promised then you’d always be there for me.” Y/N formed fists to contain her anger and slow the tears. “Then Merle died and you were wrecked…so I took on a lot because I couldn’t process my feelings. He was a dirtbag. But he was my brother. It killed a part of me that I wanted an escape that wasn’t harming myself directly. I couldn’t find shit then so I suffered. Then you got kidnapped and I destroyed Carol’s house in Alexandria. I tore off the wallpaper, broke all the dining room chairs, threatened to kill Spencer and broke all the glassware…I thought I had lost you then and I couldn’t escape that old familiar feeling…then the day after Rick died, you left and I cried for days. I lost someone important to me permanently and temporary at the same time. He meant a lot to me too, Daryl. He saved me countless times and I will forever be in the Grimes’ debt. But why did you have to go back on your promise all the fucking time?” She pulled herself away storming off in a sense as Daryl quickly picked up his catch and followed her.

“Y/N—-I was—-“

“Nah. None of that “I was doing this for more than me” crap. Because Michonne would understand if you took breaks and shit. But you never did. Never even bothered to check on me when you did come home…”

“Y/N…”

“I was 15 when this shit started. Now I’m in my 20s and I want the whole fucking world to just burn because of how many times it’s burned me…” Y/N frowns, tripping on an outgrown tree root resulting in Dog quickly sniffing her and Daryl rushing to her side being pushed off of her at first. “Why did you leave me? You’re my big brother and you left me” she sobbed leaning into Daryl as he wrapped himself tightly around her feeling the tears wet his eyes.

“I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to. I didn’t want to…I thought I owed him something. I do owe him my life and just…I’m sorry I stopped trying for yea. I should’ve done better”

Y/N simply continued to sob and latched onto her brother feeling him tighten his hold.

“Please don’t leave me anymore…take me with you or just stay longer”

A few hours passed since then and Y/N found herself on the porch steps with Dog laid by her feet while she took out one of her cigarettes and her lighter. She struggled a bit for the light and it felt like a sign when Daryl handed his zippo to her after stepping out for his own smoke.

“Supporting my bad habits?”

“Nah, joining” Daryl brought himself to sit beside her causing Dog to stir and bring himself to rest his head on his knee. As Daryl starts to pet the pup, Y/N lit her cigarette smoking it a bit before sharing with her brother. “So I have a proposal”

“You leaving again and trying to butter me up with something?”

“Nah. I want yea to come with me.” Daryl stated watching the confusion write itself on her face. “Two sets of eyes are better than one…and Dog”

“…if you have something of Rick, maybe Dog can pick up something” Y/N suggests taking her cigarette back. “We could make camp out there”

“Exactly. Even visit the other communities.” Daryl started, watching her light up slightly and give him a more curious look. “See Carol and Zeke”

Her smile that he’s missed for so long returned from something as simple as seeing old friends. But she was also happy to have her brother back…

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

A Sweet Mishap - Chapter 11

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader 

A/N: I just want to start by thanking everyone for all the love on this story so far. Here's the next chapter, I hope you enjoy. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist.

A Sweet Mishap Masterlist | Main Masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

As has become a habit of recent, the first thing I do when I open my eyes – despite the headache pounding behind them – is check my phone. I smile at the sweet good night text that must have come through mere seconds after I’d fallen asleep and then text back.

Mornin’ Remind me to stay away from eggnog…Or at least not mix it with wine…

I sit up slowly and take a sip out of the water bottle that I’d somehow had the presence of mind to prepare in advance and reach into my bag for some pain killers. I take a couple of pills before laying back down. After a few minutes my phone buzzes.

Awe, Darlin’ That sounds like a lethal mix You ok?

Yeah, my head hurts

I bet You’re gonna hate what I have to say but... Water, pills, breakfast, exercise also helps

Check, Check, I don’t even want to think about food and not a chance

Fair enough Go back to sleep then I’ll be here when you wake up

I gotta get up Work later

Today?

People need their coffee…I’m closing

Please at least eat something first then Even if you don’t want to

I won’t be allowed to leave here without eating first So don’t worry

Good

This is the only thing I miss about London You know they get the day off after Christmas It’s called Boxing Day Though they mainly watch soccer But it’s a nationwide holiday

First you tell me you’re from Texas and now you’re saying you lived in London? Another long story, I’m guessing?

Yeah…I lived there for almost a year with my boyfriend after high school

Wow I thought my move to LA was ambitious and scary You actually went overseas

Yep…At the time I thought I was in love Anyway, you know the rest of that tragic story I really do have to get up now I’ll talk to you after work

Alright Darlin Hope your head feels better

I smile at his sweet message as I shut off my phone, get up, change into fresh jeans and a hoodie and pack all my things back into my bag. I leave the box from Jensen separate. Without all the extras from the cafe, I could easily manage my bag and the box, but I also know that Nick didn’t drink nearly as much as Stella or I, always wanting to be the responsible one and ready to look after her. So, I know he’ll insist on driving me home. With everything organised, I go to the bathroom to freshen up and then downstairs to indulge in whatever my stomach can handle.

In the kitchen, Nick takes one look at me and sighs. “You girls and your wine…”

“What about your eggnog?”

“I was deliberately light on the alcohol, if it wasn’t for the wine, you’d both be fine. How many times do I have to tell you both how much worse wine-hangover are?”

“Maybe a few hundred more. It’s fun at the time…”

“Yeah, and now you’re both a mess.” He hands me a plate with one of Stewie’s croissants heated up. “You’re gonna have to eat on the run. Stella has to go into the office, I’ll drop you off at the same time. Now, if you’ll excuse me I have to make sure she’s getting ready.” 

I sit at the island bench and pick at the croissant while I wait for Nick and Stella to come back downstairs.

“Some manager you are…” I playfully tease Stella from the backseat as she uses the tiny mirror to fix up her make-up, attempting to make herself look more alive and less hungover.

She meets my eyes in the mirror, “Like you’re any better?”

I shrug, “At least my customers will be just as hungover as me.”

Nick cuts us both off as he parks in front of her office building, “You’re both as bad as each other. I really wish you would stop doing this.” He leans over to peck Stella’s cheek, “I love you, go kick some ass.”

“I love you too, both of you,” she says with a glance over the backseat at me before slipping out of the car. 

Nick waits until she disappears into the large, tinted glass doors before driving off. He sighs as he glances in the rearview mirror to meet my eyes briefly. “None of this funny business at the wedding, remember?” I nod. “You know she’s so close to another massive promotion, she’s in the middle of the pitch of her career. I get that you’re her best friend and that your life's a mess and you’re lonely but please don’t bring her down with you. The wedding is enough of a distraction. She wants this so bad, she won’t tell you because she loves you, but she can’t afford anymore distractions right now.”

My jaw drops. He’s never been this candid or harsh with me before. I’m lost for words. Shocked and hurt, all I can do is bite my cheek to hold back my emotions and nod. The rest of the drive to my apartment passes in uncomfortable, tense silence. The second the car stops I swing the door open and jump out. I quietly thank Nick for driving me and then slip into my apartment building. 

I dump my stuff in the corner of the room and go shower. Feeling sick, hurt, sad, and like a woeful disappointment I scrub every inch of my body as I stand under the scalding water. I wash my hair, shave my legs and thoroughly exfoliate in an attempt to wash away all my feelings and make myself feel at least a little better about myself. By the time I shut off the water and step out of the cubicle I’ve made a list of resolutions that I’m not going to wait until New Years to enact. 

Only contact Stella for wedding related matters

Be the best Maid-of-Honor ever

Get my life back on track - Stop chasing pipe dreams

Get a good-paying, stable 9-5 job

Be realistic about Jensen

I get dressed in the same jeans and a clean long sleeve shirt and then as the first step of my new resolutions, I tape up the box and write ‘return to sender’ on the top. I tie up my hair in a messy bun, put on comfy work shoes, grab my designated work backpack and the box, but as I check the time I realise I won’t make the post office before my shift so I leave it by the door and make a mental note to take it first thing in the morning.

My shift passes by in a blur. I hand out order after order with practiced speed and a forced smile. After flicking the sign to ‘closed’ I scrub every surface until it shines and then lock up. As I walk home I briefly check my phone, I see a text from Jensen but don’t let myself read it. I stuff my phone back in my pocket and quicken my pace to get out of the miserable, cold December air. For a second I;m transported back to my time in London.

I walked down a quiet lane back towards my shared apartment. The bleak weather matched my emotions. The light drizzle matching the tears still falling down my cheeks. I had been sitting alone in a park all day avoiding the place and person I had called home for so long. I only got up once I knew he’d be at work, likely serving fancy cocktails to the pale, model-like brunette he brought back to our apartment. I’d only been gone one night, for an acting class in Paris. But when I got home, excited to surprise him, knowing he’d still be sleeping from working until 2am, I found he wasn’t alone; there was another naked woman laying on my pillow.  A chorus of car horns startles me out of the unpleasant memory and I finally slip back into my building. I have another scalding shower to wash away the sweat and unpleasant smell of mixed foods and beverages clinging to my clothes, skin and hair. When I sit down to eat a bland frozen lasagne I flick through the channels. Supernatural is on again but I force myself to flick past it before Jensen’s face appears. Settling on an animal documentary I open my laptop and search for jobs as I eat. My phone buzzes on the coffee table but I silence it. I feel a little guilty for ignoring him since Jensen has been nothing but nice to me, but then Nick’s words ring back through my head, “I get that you’re her best friend and that your life is a mess and you’re lonely but please don’t bring her down with you.”. And I know he’s right, my life is a mess and I am lonely, but until I sort it out, I’ll just bring anyone around me down with me.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Taglist: @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27, @n-o-p-e-never, @deansimpalababy

[lumpy-veev]

Kickshot

Y'know, I might make a habit of writing these short little fic bits. Less commitment than a full fanfic, but still fun!

Anyways, here's a Shelly x Fang bit, because I think they're more fun than people give them credit for.

— — —

"You should teach me how to kick like you do," Shelly says one day, after a heated sparring match had both of them staying down for a bit longer as Shelly's bones re-set themselves and Fang's muscles knit themselves back together.

"Yeah?" He replies, flicking a bullet he'd just dug out of his shoulder aside.

"Yeah, you make it look fun." She flexes her leg, no longer skewed at an uncomfortable angle about the knee. "And easy, but Barley makes it look easy to toss a bottle around and Poco makes it look easy to twirl around onstage with his guitarra, so maybe I'm asking too much, eh?"

"Nah," Fang says, without much thought. "It's mostly just stance and technique. Once you get the hang of a couple moves you just gotta chain 'em together. The rest is all experience."

"Doesn't sound too far off from getting good with a gun," Shelly grins. "S'that a yes, then, Colmillo?"

"Huh? Yyy—uh...Yeah! Definitely!" is what tumbles out of his mouth. Fang's gonna eat his shoes.

"Then it's a date!" She bumps her shoulder against Fang's. "Hopefully a better one than the one Willow and Angelo interrupted."

"Oh, gods, don't even remind me about that," he groans, flopping back onto the ground, throwing an arm over his eyes.

Shelly only laughs, clear and bright.

"I think I'm gonna lie here for a bit longer, don't wait up for me," Fang sighs, waving his other free hand at her.

"You good?" he hears her ask.

"Yeah, just tired. I can start teaching you this weekend?" He replies, peeking at her from behind his arm.

"Fine with me." She says, stealing Fang's visor, pecking him on the forehead, before dropping it on his stomach and standing up to leave.

Fang stays like that for a bit, watching as Shelly leaves his field of view.

"Hgggh..." He covers his eyes again, his heart fluttering in his chest as he thinks about her. He's doomed.

[katyawriteswhump]

the power of love, part 13 (steddie, stobin, steve whump fic)

Alternate ending S4: Steve has a habit of surviving near death experiences then getting sick for no reason. And Eddie and those fatal bat bites? After an impossible feat of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation from Steve, he’s mysteriously fixed. So, Eddie’s back to being banished, this time with Steve and Robin in tow. Eddie’s healing, but Steve isn’t… and life gets even more confusing, when Eddie develops feelings for Steve, which aren’t entirely unrequited.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 14

(also on AO3 here and as part of my steve whump fic series)

Steve POV

When Steve’s finished slumping forward and retching, he’s so through with everything.

“You did good with the lightning, kid.” Hopper scrapes Steve’s hair from his face. He’s still got an arm about him, pretty much all that’s stopping Steve collapsing onto the dirt. “Let’s hope we don’t need it again, huh?”

Steve sniffs, takes the kleenex Hopper offers and dabs his lips. As his super-fast breaths finally slow, his brain kicks off: 

I got superpowers! Henderson’s gonna flip! Shame about the glitches, what with the blacking out and puking my guts out. The sound of a rushing river distracts him. He’s been hearing it, on and off, for hours. 

He kneels a little more upright. Hopper gives him some space, passes him some water. “How far exactly have you travelled from Hawkins since the accident at Lover’s Lake?”

The accident? Oh yeah. I died. Twice. 

Steve hasn’t told anyone about his second joyride into the afterlife in the Soviet base. Somehow, being an idiot as a kid is way easier to share. A damp breeze rattles through the trees, slapping him back to the present.

“Steve?” prompts Hopper. 

“I… uh, I played basketball all over the state.” Even after drinking, his voice is a croaky mess. “Swim meets, too. Been a few times to Indianapolis. I was okay.”

Hopper scratches his stubbly jaw, looking almost as bushed as Steve feels. “How okay?”

“To be honest, I was kicked off the starting squad after a couple of the more distant games. Crappy performances, and I got humiliatingly sick on the bus.” It all makes sense now. “I survived.”

“Fine. You’re a tough guy. You’re gonna have to tough your way through this journey. I can’t leave you behind.”

“Eleven survived in the woods for—”

“At that stage, she didn’t have half the US army on her back.” He pats Steve, powerful enough to rock him. “She’d gotten experience with her powers, too.”

Steve can’t fathom if he’s feeling slightly patronised or dead relieved. All he really wants is to lie somewhere quiet and sleep for a year. Instead, he must drag himself to his feet—or, in the event, he lets Hopper do the dragging. He can’t help asking, though: 

“Chief, can you hear running water? Like, loud.”

And getting louder. Niagara loud, in fact.

“No. Why? Can you?”

“Oh… um, maybe not.”

Okay. It’s totally in my head. Why aren’t I panicking harder?

When they reach the Humvee, Robin and Eddie are no longer at each other’s throats. On the contrary, they’re huddled in some deep and meaningful chat. As one, they slam Steve with stricken bunny-rabbit stares, which make him want to laugh so goddamn loud.

During the torturous drive, he sleeps, and his mind drifts back to the Soviet base. He’s caught in that furious red tide, which roars through his aching head. It’s echoed by a caressing whisper: You’ll know when it’s time to go home.

“Yeah, I got it. Shut the fuck up.”

“Rude! Wasn’t saying anything.”

“Huh?” He lifts his cheek from Robin’s shoulder. Her worried, tear-stained eyes overshadow the amusement ruffling her lips. Jesus, I’m breaking my friends! “Dreaming. Sorry.”

He gingerly rolls his shoulders. The side in the sling twinges miserably, and yet… Now he knows he’s gotta ditch the whole bunch of them, the fug of sickness is clearing. He feels better. Much better, in fact.

He keeps the news tight. 

If he plays poorly, they won’t expect him to sneak away, right? Though, the plan pitches him another problem—when he does escape, how can he stop Robin and Eddie coming after him? Eddie, particularly, would be in beyond deep shit if he got taken.

Inevitably, the Humvee gets stuck again. When Hopper asks Steve to take the wheel, Steve grabs up a green army notebook he’d spotted in the footwell, a stubby pencil also. He scribbles fast, between revving the engine.

“Eddie, I love you. Please don’t follow me. Steve x”

I love you. 

Wtf? 

When he’d blundered down that path with Nance, he’d been licking the scars two-and-a-half years’ later. With Robin, of course, things turned out different.

Then Eddie Munson happened. 

To be fair, knowing Eddie as he did now, he doesn’t actually believe Eddie would vomit on the note. Maybe only cackle a while. Either way, Steve would no way in hell obey a love letter, telling him not to follow, from anybody he cared about.

Given recent form, he doesn’t think Eddie would either.

He scrunches the note into his pocket then scribbles furiously at ‘take two’: 

“Eddie, DON’T FOLLOW ME. You make me sick. Steve.”

Jesus, that’s hopeless. You make me sick? He doesn’t mean that, apart from… It’s sorta true. Steve detests it, however, longs to try again. He’s out of time.

He stuffs the second note into Eddie’s pack, as Hopper opens the door. “We’re gonna have to walk from here. Think you can make it?”

“Dunno,” says Steve. For purely tactical reasons. Likewise, he doesn’t volunteer to carry many supplies.

As they trudge their way through the trees, his chances to run aren’t happening. Everybody’s way quieter than usual—edgy, like during that drive in the RV before they faced down Vecna. When he tries subtly falling behind, they all jump to help him. Even worse, they reach the liaison spot way sooner than he expects. Thankfully, for Steve, the car isn’t there.

“Where the hell are they?” Hopper gets out a compass to check they’re in the right spot.

“Because compasses are so accurate near Hawkins,” gripes Steve, his pulse thudding madly. It really is now or never, and why the hell hasn’t he got a better plan?

“We’re far enough out that the gates shouldn’t make a difference, right?” Eddie says.

How do we know? How do we know that Vecna hasn’t swallowed Hawkins whole, while we’re running away pissing ourselves yellow?

Steve bites this back. It’s not like he wants them coming with him. He sits down on the verge, presses his face to his bent knees. Soon as he dares, he gets up again.

“Where you going?” asks Robin, clambering up also.

“I need to pee,” says Steve. Eddie’s on his feet too. Steve can’t look him in the eye, and the words nearly choke him. “I don’t need a babysitter. Shoo!”

He walks back into the forest, upping his pace as soon as the trees obscure him. It’s gonna be a long trek, he’s hardly got any supplies, and he’s got a weird sense that, no, he isn’t gonna get through this time. He follows the sound of the water, because it seems obvious that he should.  

And he feels more torn apart than ever. 

The tug back to Hawkins is overwhelming, but the tug back toward Robin and Eddie? It’s like somebody has wound a thread around his heart, attached it to the pair of them. As he strides farther away, the thread snares tight, like that rope around his wrist did.

He’s annoyed—if not exactly surprised—to hear somebody thrashing through the forest behind him. Robin yells, “Steve! Steeeeeve!” 

He finally locates a small stream, which seems to be the source of the supernaturally loud torrent. He skids down the bank, landing in about three inches of water, and crouches low. 

Go by, Robin. Dammit, turn back.

She tumbles into the stream a yard off, landing on her ass with a loud splash and a louder squeak.

“Uuuuugh!” She takes the hand he offers, and they scramble to their feet together. “Steve, what the hell are you doing?”

“What the hell are you doing?”

She flicks pond scum from her legs and grimaces spectacularly. “Stopping you being an IDIOT! And since when were you not sick? God, I was so worried! Were you faking?”

“You know I wasn’t. I got… fixed.”

“Fixed? Like, HOW?”

He urgently presses a finger to his lips. “Sssssh! Keep your voice down! Look, I don’t know exactly, and I can’t go back. Hopper will make me get in that car.”

“He can’t force you.” Her glare is louder than her voice was.

“Whatever. He and El need to go. You and Eddie need to go.”

“You heard what Hopper said. They’ll torture you for information—they could kill you.”

“Been there, done that, Robin.”

“This isn't funny.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Steve sighs hard, belatedly noticing the stream has breached his sneakers. “All I do know is that I feel more myself already, turning around.” Following the water. “Also, Hop’s right—El can’t defeat Vecna with the military gunning for her. I don’t know exactly what I can do yet, but I have to try, whatever it is. So, please, Robin. Go back. Tell the others you couldn’t find me.”

“Eddie won’t leave without—”

“Which is why I gotta move! Take care, all right?”

He wants to hug her so bad. Instead, he sloshes away.

“Ugh, slow down!”

“Seriously?” He turns about suddenly. She nearly smashes into him and takes the opportunity to get right in his face.

“I am so mad with you! You made me run after you, my butt is drenched, and now you’re making me walk along a horrible ditch, all the way back to Hawkins?”

“It’s the quickest route.” He doesn’t know how he knows, only that he does. He turns around, wades onwards. The damp never bothered me anyway…

“Then why don’t we follow the bank, Steve?”

She has a point. “Oh. Okay.” They clamber up the sides, start following the stream from above. It’s as slippery as the riverbed and overgrown with treacherously tangly weeds.

“Eeeeeew! When this is over,” says Robin, “I am never, ever venturing into the totally-not-great outdoors again.” 

“You don’t have to do any of this, Robin.”

Her latest scowl is more jokey—and fond—than he figures he deserves. “Shut up, Dingus. You know I do.”

Part 14

tags: @estrellami-1 @kal-ology @finntheehumaneater (thank you, thank you, thank you!) If anybody else would like to be tagged on this fic or any of my writing, please let me know :) Reblogs, comments and likes also very much appreciated :) Thank you for reading so far :)

(also part of my steve whump fic series on AO3)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 14

[the-bar-sinister]

In Justice We Trust (144638 words) by thesavagesabretooth

catch up here

With Simon Blackquill and Athena Cykes assigned as their psychologists, the Phantom and Fulbright must grapple with their identity, their deeds, their future, and their love for the twisted samurai whom they betrayed. All the while, Edgeworth and Wright find their relationship tested as they walk the narrow path between pursuing real justice, and the dark age of the law.

-

December 25, 5:20 pm

So it's real. It's all real. I really am Bobby Fulbright.

It certainly puts a fresh perspective on things.

Halbicht was lost in their own thoughts as they followed Simon, Agent Ash, and Apollo justice out of the room to give Metis Cykes and her daughter a few minutes of privacy.

Agent Ash was fixing her makeup thoughtfully as she walked out of the room. 

“...I’d heard about it, I’d always had a little faith in the supernatural, but seeing it firsthand like that…” She whistled. “...We’ll have to have the girl try to channel Kelso, see what happens to our suspect….or at least see if she can recognize a spirit inside someone.” 

Simon was still drying his eyes with the back of his sleeve. Robert grabbed his arm to stop him, and pressed the handkerchief from his pocket into Simon's hand.

"Here, Prosecutor Blackquill."

"Thank you, detective," he murmured. He dabbed his eyes with the cloth. "That was… a powerful experience. Ash-dono, I am sure that our young medium will be able to help in some way at least."

"Yeah…." Apollo murmured. He stumbled, and caught himself on the wall. Halblicht watched him closely. He seemed disoriented. "I'm gonna go uh, I gotta– I'll be in the restroom."

As he limped off without waiting for an answer, they followed him with their gaze.

It was a shocking experience for anybody, I guess, Bobby mused.

Perhaps. At least the matter between us is settled. Of your reality at least.“I hope so.” Sheila watched Apollo slip away with a quiet expression of concern, and a murmured “poor kid” before she went back to applying her makeup. A nervous habit, maybe, given the way her smile seemed forced.

“I’m sure she can. The Small Medium at Large has quite the kick.” she looked up at Simon. “...you gonna be okay? Seeing someone you care about back from the dead…it’s..” she went back to applying her lipstick before she murmured “gotta be one hell of a trip.” 

"A hell of a trip indeed, Ash-dono!" Simon barked a laugh, and Halblicht found the prosecutor suddenly half draped on their arm. Surprised, they put it around his shoulders to steady him.

"Easy there, sir," Bobby murmured. He was almost overwhelmed himself, tears threatening to spill from his eyes just in sympathy and stress at the whole event, but Robert helped hold on to him.

A regular conga line of emotional support, Robert thought dryly.

“I wouldn’t know. People I watch die? Stay dead.” Ash drawled with a dry laugh and a smirk “...except Kelso, perhaps.”

She snapped her compact shut and shoved it in her pocket. “You look like you’re about to fall over. I could get you a chair…though Detective Prime Time’s doing an admirable job.” 

"I'm happy to help in any way that I can, Agent Ash," Bobby promised with a sad smile. "If you'd like to faint, I can happily catch you."

“Very tempting, Prime Time.” She laughed, pushing her hand through her hair with the old wolfish grin “Watch out, I might take you up on it.” 

"Thankfully, I have two arms, ma'am!" he saluted with his free one, to demonstrate. Bobby was riding high on the emotional power of his own confirmed reality, and Robert was swimming in the backwash. Too much so to even protest his silly behavior.

Simon came through for him however. "You're ridiculous as always, Fool Bright." He sniffed into the handkerchief. "This is hardly the time for your witless shenanigans."

“Ah, and there goes my classic tv- faint.” Sheila sighed performatively, and instead dropped herself against the wall “I’d say we all earned the right to laugh while we can.” 

"Well, our ghost of honor was certainly laughing I suppose," Simon admitted.

"You made it sound like she was always like that," Bobby commented, curious.

"Oh yes. She always had a very dark sense of humor. Perhaps some of it rubbed off on me."

“A woman after my own heart.” Ash put her hand to her chest “she was a big influence on you, Samurai?” 

"The biggest of my life," he said. "Especially if you include the film library that she shared with me."

"Ah! So that's where your love of the samurai comes from, Prosecutor Blackquill?" Bobby beamed at him. 

"It reinforced the latent urge, I'm sure," he drawled.

“Ahhhh….” Sheila snickered “it awakened the soul of the samurai in yo—-- no I can’t finish that sentence!”

She broke out laughing in another fit as the door to the private room Athena and Metis had entered opened, and a tear-stained but smiling Athena came slowly walking out with the ‘Small Medium at Large’ trailing behind her. 

Bobby snapped to a salute. "Ms. Athena! And Ms. Fey– thank you very much for helping us."

"No problem!" Pearl snapped a salute back to him with a little smile, but Bobby could tell that she looked tired.

Do you think channeling a spirit is draining for her, Bobby? I've never noticed a problem like that between you and I– except accounting for the normal level of exhausted you make me.

Aw, Robert! But um, no, it seems like you're right.

"Are the pair of you alright?" Bobby asked.

Athena wiped at her eyes. 

“Y-yeah. I just had to get some stuff off my chest. It was nice to speak with her again. She looked over her shoulder. “...thanks Pearl. It meant the world to me.”

"Of course, Miss Athena! Any time!" Pearl chirped out, despite her obvious fatigue.

"We'll have to plan that party for when Aura is out of jail," Simon drawled. He leaned against Bobby's arm, seemingly unconcerned with disentangling himself for now. Bobby certainly wasn't going to push him away.

"So…" the young medium asked. "What's next? Confirming possessions, right?"

“I’d say…” Athena looked at the two of them with a half smile and a wave. She’d gone a little flushed, but seemed, admittedly, happy in their direction.

“That’s right, Small Medium at Large.” Agent Ash purred. “...but you look tired, hon. You think you can push through?” 

"I'm okay!" She nodded. "Seeing ghosts doesn't take energy the way that channeling them does. I can just… you know… see them. So as long as you trust my judgment, we're all set!"

Bobby and Robert were not unaware that Pearl had glanced rather significantly in their direction as she spoke.

“After that display? I’ll trust you to the ends of the earth, kid.” Sheila laughed, glancing sidelong at Robert and Bobby. “Do you boys need confirmation? Or should I take Pearl here to lockup?”

“Oh ah…and to Mr. Apollo.” Athena whispered to her– though in the empty hall it was easy to hear. 

"Why don't we hear from Ms. Fey– just for the official paperwork, so to speak," Robert said. He glanced between the medium and Simon.

Wait– did she just say Apollo? Bobby blinked internally in surprise– though it may have shown on their face.

So she did.

That's not a joke? But why would he…

"Why not indeed," Simon nodded.

Pearl chewed on her thumb, and nodded. "Uhuh. I can say for sure. I noticed it right away when I came in to breakfast at the hotel this morning. I was gonna ask Miss. Athen about it."

Athena slapped her hands on her cheeks in surprise. “OH! woah, I guess we had the same idea! We were gonna come find you about it…that…”

Simon said nothing, but favored Halblicht with a rather smug smirk

"Thank you for the confirmation, Ms. Fey," Bobby sniffled. "It means a lot."

Athena glanced at them with a muted but genuine smile “...yeah , that makes a lotta sense. And…And for Apollo?” 

Pearl chewed on her fingertips.

"Um…Should I wait until–" She paused as Halblicht heard the sound of footsteps coming around the corner.

It was Apollo Justice returning. 

His hair's wet, Robert observed.

Maybe staring at his face in the mirror and splashing it, Bobby suggested. I know the feeling.Athena nervously tugged her ponytail with a bright smile his way. “Hey ah…Apollo? Did…did you want to hear what Pearl had to say?” 

Apollo shrugged stiffly. His whole body posture was tense. "I already heard the answer from Trucy last night. I don't have any reason to doubt it now."

While Apollo didn't specifically say yes or no, the answer was obvious. If there wasn't a ghost, there was nothing to tell him. But he'd been told. Therefore.

But what ghost? 

Robert– it has to be Clay Terran. 

Ah.

Halblicht and Apollo's eyes met.

Simon, meanwhile, shifted his posture. "You as well, Mr. Justice?"

Apollo shrugged.

Athena clapped her hands together with a bright smile and an attempt at levity. “Today’s a rare kind of day huh? Possessions popping out of the wordwork, it’s like spirit week! Hah…haha..” 

"Yeah, um, it's actually kind of been freaking me out," Pearl murmured, still chewing on her thumb. "It was super weird to see it with Apollo, but then with Mr. Halblicht too? Like, no offense Miss Agent Ash but if I see a third possessed person today, I might do a little scream."

“Whoopsie.” Sheila laughed as she leaned over and rustled Pearl’s hair. “Scream as much as you need to, Small Medium at Large– because I might have a dead agent I need you to ID just over there.” She gestured towards the hall that lead to the holding cells.

Pearl nodded, and rolled up her sleeves. "Lead me to 'em!"

"That does bring up a rather odd question, though," Simon said. "Why so many ghosts? Why these ghosts?"

"Maybe we should confirm Kelso one way or the other before we ask that question," Robert said.

She's got to be possessed though, right? How else would she know all about Kelso?

I have no idea, but I don't like jumping to conclusions.

December 25, 5:45 pm

Only Agent Ash and Pearl went into the cell with the captured asset, and that left Simon standing outside with Athena, Halblicht, and Apollo.

Surrounded by ghosts on all sides. Not what I expected when I started the morning.

He felt a little bad for Athena– he knew his emotions were everywhere, and he was sure that she could sense it. From the joy of the reunion and revelation with Bobby– and Robert– to the accompanying joy and sorrow of the brief reunion with his mentor. To confusion at this newest strange revelation with Apollo.

The girl didn’t look unhappy…she had a small and muted little smile on her face like she’d worn once upon a time…but she did look tired. The emotional bombardment of the day had clearly taken its toll.

She wasn’t projecting as much outward ‘energy’ as she leaned on the wall and watched the door with concern and curiosity. 

He couldn't blame her. He didn't know if this day, or the 20th, or that day so many years ago was the most overwhelming day of their lives– but it was a close race no matter which.

They all stood quietly. No one seemed ready to start a conversation, not even Bobby. Perhaps Bobby least of all, for once

There'd be time to talk later. At least Apollo– or Clay, it seemed– hadn't assaulted him again.

Eventually, the cell door opened, and Agent Ash and Pearl Fey emerged. 

Pearl held her hands up, and in a very small, deliberately indoor voice, spoke out a scream. "Ahhhhhhhhhhh!!"

“....Oh.” Athena put her hand to her cheek “I guess that answers that question.”

Sheila walked out with a furrowed brow and a forced smile as she let the door slam behind her. She raised her hands up, and echoed the medium’s sentiment with an “Arrrgh’ of her own.

“This is going to be the worst, strangest paperwork of my life…. And I had to write entire fake family trees.” 

Simon touched his chin thoughtfully. "Just how does one do the paperwork on this? And I reiterate, why in heaven's name is this happening? Not that I'm complaining."

"I wish I knew," Pearl squeaked.

Athena bit her lip. 

“...I can’t speak for Apollo’s situation, but I have a working theory on Halblicht and …ah..” She gestured to the door, “... Kelso24.”

Sheila rubbed her temples. “...whatever’s going on, it’s utter madness. Three ghosts all wrapped up in the same damned interpol investigation. Maybe more! Who knows who else is packing! At least it means Agent Kelso isn’t…gone? But still!” 

Pearl nodded. "I'm sorry I don't have much more information. I really only know a lot about ghosts from the perspective of the Kurain tradition. So mostly when it comes to possessed people I only know how to, you know… get rid of them."

"Kindly don't do any of that at this point, Fey-dono," Simon said quickly. He pushed down the sting of panic that accompanied the thought of someone banishing Bobby, now, after everything.

December 25, 5:55 pm

Athena watched Bobby move a reassuring hand to Simon's shoulder as he replied to Pearl.

"Yeah," Apollo murmured in agreement. "Not right now."

“Yeah…” Sheila held her hands up. “I’d rather we don’t. Frankly, I think this whole thing necessitates a change of plans regarding Miss 24.”

Athena bit her lip, her hand going to her chest. She didn’t chime in out loud, but…she couldn’t help but agree with Simon. The thought of banishing the spirits only sent pings of worry and sadness through her muffled emotions.

If nothing else, she was pretty sure the former assets might need them to adapt and heal from their upbringing…and Apollo’s ‘friend’, who she was certain was far closer than that, shouldn’t be parted from him again so soon. 

Pearl nodded, dipping into a little bow. "Of course! Um, I get the sense that this isn't your typical case, you know? I just wish I had more insight… if only Mystic Maya were here…."

“Not at all..” Athena gave her a smile. “don’t worry…I think this gave everyone the proof they needed to figure it out, Pearl! You did great!”

“Mystic Maya?” Sheila raised her eyebrow “someone who has more experience with possessions?” 

Pearl smiled back at Athena, and answered. "Mystic Maya is my cousin, the future leader of Kurain village and master of the Kurain channeling technique. If anybody would know, she would– but she's in Kura'in finishing her training, so we can't talk to her…."

"That's a shame," Simon murmured. "There isn't anyone else who would know?"

The little medium chewed on her thumb. "Well…"

“Sounds like a real powerhouse…but getting a hold of anyone in Kura’in is a pain. Especially if they’re related to the monastic orders'.' Sheila hummed “there’s someone else?”

Athena gasped, covering her mouth “Woah…and I thought she was just the Boss’ legendary legal aide…the master of a tradition’s a pretty hu–” She cut herself off and looked at Pearl in curiosity.

Pearl poked her fingers together. "I could call your boss' boss, actually, Miss Athena," she murmured. "Miss Mia Fey– Mystic Maya's older sister. I don't know if she would know, because she left the tradition, but it could be worth a try."

"By call– you mean summon, don't you?" Robert asked, raising an eyebrow.

Pearl nodded. "Uhuh."

“Are you feeling well enough to?” Athena asked with genuine concern. “...you seemed pretty worn out after channeling my mom..” 

She rubbed the back of her neck, and smiled. "I'm pretty tired, but… if I fall asleep, you'll carry me back to the hotel, right?"

With a salute, Athena flashed a bright smile. 

“Promise, Pearly! I’ll carry you right back to your room!” Sheila chuckled “alright. Well, with that settled, let’s meet this Miss Mia Fey, shall we?” 

December 25, 5:55 pm

They gathered again in the unfurnished viewing room in a loose circle around Pearl Fey, Simon having suggested that it was perhaps a little too inappropriate to have a seance right out in the middle of the hallway.

Pearl had put her hands together, and once again that strange aura filled the room, challenging Athena's senses.

And then Pearl was gone, and in her place was a tall, handsome woman with a strong face and large, dark eyes. She looked over them each, a catlike smile written on her face, and a sense of deep amusement radiating out from her.

"Well now! This certainly isn't the usual crowd that I play to," she declared. Her gaze lingered on Agent Ash for a long moment.

“Well, well. Today seems to be the day for pretty stiffs. Hello, Miss Fey.” Agent Ash commented with her wolfish grin as she crossed her arms under her chest, and stifled a laugh. “Hope you don’t mind the new audience.”

Athena’s eyes were wide– this was Mia Fey– the woman Phoenix rarely spoke about at the office, but always with hushed reverence. The one who’d told him the very advice that saved her again and again about a lawyer’s smile. Mia Fey, in the borrowed flesh.

“Uhm h-hello, ma’am!” Athena dipped into an awkward bow. 

Simon bowed as well, and Bobby saluted.

"The late Ms. Mia Fey, we presume?" Bobby said with a grin,

"In the flesh!" the woman laughed. "Not mine though. Actually– whose flesh am I in? And where's Phoenix Wright? He's in trouble again, isn't he?"

“Oh no, Mr. Birdman is just fine.” Sheila started to cackle again, slapping the wall. “Is he really that accident prone? No wonder the King of Fop’s such an anxious wreck. snrk!!! ” she stifled the laughter and leaned forward. “Miss Fey, you’ve been called for an assessment with your expertise. We have an increasingly unusual situation. So we’ve asked the Small Medium at Large to help.”

Athena rubbed her neck as she attempted to translate for Sheila’s apparent love of snarky nicknames. 

“Phoenix is alright, ma’am. We had Pearl summon you ‘cause she didn’t have any experience with the situation at hand…a rash of possessions in a short amount of time…and Mystic Maya is off training in Kura’in. We were hoping that you could explain some of this. Two…four? Of the parties are in this room. The other’s in lockup.” 

Mia looked around at the people in the circle, her gaze lingering now on Apollo and on Halblicht. "So I see. Alright, why don't we sit down and you can bring me up to speed."

December 25, 6:10 pm

At the head of the table, Mia Fey had her hands clasped together and her chin rested on them, as everyone had explained the situation. She had been sitting with her eyes closed, taking it all in.

Finally, she opened them and looked around the table. "I see. So there's an international espionage ring that trains its spies through rigorous dehumanization starting in early childhood. We have two of them here– one in this room, and one in lock up– both who have been possessed by the ghosts of the people that they most recently killed. Is that correct so far?"

“That’s right, ma’am.” Athena nodded seriously as she leaned on the table. “Both were possessed, confirmed by Pearl, though I’m not sure the one in lock up realizes it yet. They’re both a little confused from the sound of the interview.”

Sheila tipped her chair back. “...got to love espionage rings.” she said dryly. “fucking people up so hard the dead get involved.” 

"I think you'll find that I do not in fact have to love that," Mia murmured. 

“Trust me, neither do I."

Mia pointed at Apollo. "And you two aren't part of this spy business, but had known one another for years, correct?"

"Yes, ma'am," Apollo murmured.

"Alright," she nodded. "I think I understand what's going on."

"Pray enlighten the rest of us poor souls," Simon drawled.

Athena leaned forward, listening carefully. She had a theory, herself– and she wondered if perhaps Mia had come to the same conclusion, from the spiritual angle rather than psychological. 

The legendary lawyer smiled and shook a finger. "Before I do, do any of the talented problem solvers among you have a guess?"

"The supernatural isn't my forte, unfortunately," Simon confessed. He leaned a little closer to Bobby. "I'll be just as happy to have the mystery revealed for me this time."

Sheila shook her head, hands raised in the air. “I’m not the woman to ask about emotions, spirits, or attachment I’m afraid.”

Athena perked up with a nervous smile, her hand shooting up “I have a guess, ma’am!” 

Mia pointed at her. "I like your attitude, red. Give it a shot for me."

“Red???” Athena squeaked “...better than Miss Edutainment at least.”

Sheila began laughing again, slapping the table with her palm, which only made Athena flush more. She pushed her hair out of her face and took a breath before she answered. 

“I’m wondering if it’s because of their unique psychological profiles– 24 and Robert, I mean. They’ve had their personalities and emotions crushed since they were children so they could become anyone, anywhere, right? It’s horrible, and it makes me sick, but it also means that they’d be…psychologically and probably spiritually open with enough mental/spiritual real estate for a spirit or personality to take residence. R-right? I’d thought it just meant there was room to create a new personality, but…”

“...What, like they were some kind of spirit-trap?” Sheila asked with a raise of her eyebrow “...that explains why I never got myself possessed, despite factors.” 

"Very insightful, Miss Cykes!" Mia clapped. "That's exactly the conclusion that I'd come to. The training they underwent essentially made the soul in their body small enough to accommodate another one no problem, without any of the usual difficulties involved."

Bobby rubbed the back of his neck. "I see… I suppose that does make sense…"

Mia nodded. "If there's a void, a soul can easily rush in to fill it. Especially if there's an intense enough burst of emotions at the time of death."

Athena's eyes widened, and her heart started to race.

“Like a murder-- Kelso’s burst of horror and despair that echoed again when 24 tried to kill herself…and…” She glanced at Bobby and Robert with a bite of her lip. “Thank you, though ma’am. It makes psychological sense, too.”

Sheila whistled “....who knows how many more of your fellows are walking around with confused ghosts in their heads.” 

"An interesting possibility," Halblicht murmured, twisting his fingers together. "Both hopeful and grim, too…"

"Indeed," Simon nodded. "What an ironic fate for both parties."

“Very ironic…” Athena chewed her nails. “A killer and a victim sharing a body, and …if Halblicht is any indication, doing all the better for it. I hope…I hope when we find the rest we can help them too. Starting with Kelso and Miss 24.”

Sheila brushed her hair over her ear. 

 “Sharing space with your victim. Very interesting indeed.” She glanced sidelong at Mia. “You look young. Murder or illness?” 

Mia's eyebrows raised. "Murder or illness what, ms. Interpol?"

“Your cause of death, Miss Fey.” Sheila leaned on the back of her hand.

Athena sat up with a start. “Agent Ash! You can’t go around asking people that kind of thing!”

The agent’s gaze turned towards her, the barest note of confusion in her voice. “I’m looking for an opinion from the other side of the veil on the current situation, Miss Edutainment…and I’d like to know if I’m walking into a landmine. So I felt it prudent to ask.” 

The deceased lawyer sighed, and fluffed her hair. "I was murdered. But don't worry about it, just say what you want to say or ask what you want to ask."

“I’d thought so,” Ash leaned on her hand. “My question is this– emotionally speaking, do you think Sam Wan Kelso will suffer sharing a body with the woman who killed her? I know it’s seemed to work out for these gentlemen…”

Ash pointed to Bobby and Robert. “But as someone who died at the hands of another, I’m curious about your opinion. And…also, how does possession work? Have you possessed anyone? Can someone possess another down the line, provided they haven’t passed into rebirth?” 

Mia pinched the bridge of her nose. 

"Oh dear, this is a lot of complicated questions. And I can feel little Pearl getting tuckered out." She sighed and took a breath. "The important question you asked is about Kelso and her killer. I know that I wouldn't have wanted to get stuck in a body with my own killer. But don't worry– possession is voluntary on the part of the spirit. If Kelso doesn't like it, she can leave any time. If you want to learn more about possession in general, there's an excellent library in Kurain village which I am sure you would be welcome to look over."

“...I’ll keep that in mind.” Sheila Ash held her hands up with a smile. “Sorry for overloading you with questions, Miss Fey. Thank you. Knowing Kelso can leave if she’s unhappy does wonders. Last thing I want is to allow someone to be trapped in a situation they can’t escape.”

Athena wondered exactly why Sheila had asked so many questions so quickly– part of it probably had something to do with the rapid fire and complicated emotions that ricocheted through her voice when she’d asked them.

But either way, she shifted nervously on her chair. “Thank you so much for your time, Ma’am! If you’ve gotta rest, we won’t keep you…I know Pearl was worried about falling asleep.” 

"Wait just a minute," Apollo– no, it was Clay– said, sitting forward. "That's great for them, but what about us?"

Mia turned toward Athena's fellow lawyer and his spirit companion. She smiled a rather sad smile. "I didn't mean to leave you out. But you've already probably guessed that your situation is different from theirs."

They nodded. "Yeah, I got that sense. So… can you tell me any more about it?"

"Here's the thing. These guys–" she pointed her finger at Bobby and Robert. "These 'assets'-- it seems like they have what you might call 'bonsai' souls. They've been deliberately groomed and cut and shaped so they don't take up much space. That means there's plenty of room for a full sized soul to move in and share space without disrupting the bonsai. But you, Misters, have two regular full sized souls in you right now."

Athena got the sense from Mia's voice that that was going to be a problem.

“...and a container only has so much space.” Athena murmured quietly, her brow furrowed. “...which is why they’ve been so erratic? Maybe?”

Sheila listened with her fingers against her forehead. “...he’s not going to explode like this was some 80’s horror flick, is he?” 

"Nothing so dramatic," Mia promised and waved her hand. "Have you ever seen what happens to two trees when you try to grow them in a tight space? Provided there's adequate sustenance for both?"

"They grow together," Simon said.

"They grow together," Mia nodded. "The two plants twist around one another and grow so closely and tightly as to become inseparable– even indistinguishable from one another, as if they had been one all along. And that, my dears, is what will happen to the two of you if you remain as you are."

Apollo and Clay had gone pale. "How long? How much time do I have?"

She shrugged. "It's impossible to say. A year, perhaps. Maybe two."

Athena bit her lip. “...a mingling of spirits into one. I …I guess that makes a lot of sense, doesn’t it?”

She glanced at Apollo, her brow furrowed as she thought of him and Clay. A short fuse had been placed on them, a timer ticking down to decide if they had to have their final parting…or…

Sheila brushed her fingers through the strands of her pale hair. “...huh.”

"Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, hon," Mia said with a sad little smile. "But that's the way it is. There aren't too many ways out there to cheat death, you know."

The two took a breath. "I understand. Thank you for telling me. I–we'll figure it out. That's all we needed to know."

Athena gave them a sympathetic look and a halfhearted smile “I believe in you guys…”

“Not many ways to cheat death…” Sheila laughed, slapping her table. “Yeah, guess not, Miss Faerie Tale. “ 

"Sorry, Ms. Interpol," Mia chuckled sadly again. "If that's all you needed from me, then I'll say good luck, and get back to my busy schedule."

Halblicht shook his head. "No other questions from us, here."

“Busy Schedule? and here Cykes Sr. Made it sound like death was the waiting room from hell!” Sheila laughed. She saluted Mia with a grin that Athena thought looked rather forced. “Thanks. Good luck to you too, Faerie Tale. No further questions.”

Athena waved quietly at her with a smile. 

“It was nice to meet you, ma’am. Phoenix talks about you a lot, so… She bowed her head “I hope I get to speak with you again someday. Good luck.” 

"Knowing Phoenix, I'm sure we will, red. Tell him hello for me, will you?" She blew a kiss to the table, and then– was gone.

Pearl Fey slumped exhausted onto her arms against the table. "Oooh….."

Athena’s concern immediately reasserted itself and she hurried over to put her hand on Pearl’s back. “You alright, Pearl? That probably took a lot out of you..” 

"I'm okay!" she said, raising her head a little and giving a shaky thumbs up. "Did Miss Mia help?"

Bobby was already out of his chair, and he saluted the little medium. "She helped a great deal, Miss Fey. Is there anything we can do to help you?"

"Oh good! I want some juice," Pearl said. She giggled exhaustively and returned his salute. Athena could feel pride radiating from her. "And a looooong nap."

"You've more than earned both, Fey-dono," Simon nodded.

Athena nodded with a broad grin “the best juice in Cauli, even.” she playfully punched her shoulder “i’ll even carry you if you still want.”

Sheila laughed and slapped the table “bravo, Small Medium. You really were at Large today. Nickname earned. I’ll have Lang grab you an honorary badge for your service to Interpol today.” 

Pearl found the strength to sit up at that. "Really? That would be so cool! Ooohg…" With a dizzy look she leaned against Athena's hand.

“Really.” Agent Ash purred, and pulled out her phone. She typed a message and winked “...sent. Stop in before you leave Cauli and I’ll ensure you get it.”

Athena rubbed her back with a chuckle. “Yeah Pearl… I’m definitely gonna carry you.” 

[daisychainsandbowties]

your nonbinary beatrice post, i’m mentally jumping up and down on a bed ala s1 ava

nonbinary avatrice is so damn underrated imo, especially since they both read very trans and/or nd, (beatrice especially ((unrelated but lilith also has autistic vibes for similar reasons to beatrice)

ava is a bit complicated because on one hand it’s very likely she doesn’t care much or at all, and you have that whole queer af conversation between her and chanel about not knowing who you are because you never got a chance to explore or something that’s even queerer knowing that chanel’s actor is trans, and how often being queer and disabled goes hand in hand because of how man & woman is usually defined so much as a cishet white, thin, well off, pro status quo abled man/woman, but also on the other hand, that could also be the very same reason why a disabled person might firmly id as cis and/or with their agab, because of how they’re systematically denied manhood/womanhood because of their disability

and then with beatrice, like aside from the way she dresses, and i refuse to believe the combat habits didn’t make a few nuns realize that they aren’t so cis after all, you have the “people have tried to make me something i’m not. to make me normal. or at least, acceptable*.” and many people will “accept” gay people but only as long as they’re don’t display any gender queerness/gncness and/or transness

(*and obv that line is very easily also or as well interpretable as autistic beatrice, esp w how she displays a few behaviors that could be read as her being autistic, but that’s off topic)

<- first of all i am just yes yes yes about the intersectionality of disability/queerness & how it adds huge good layers to any conversation about nb avatrice. i rlly like the idea of Ava claiming her gender, b/c so often the systems and the institutions and ablism try to infantilise disabled ppl, & that extends to participating in gender, linking right to dehumanising tactics.

& i fucking LOVE Ava really doing gender and doing it her own way and grabbing it and running with it. Ava coming from a place where the ppl who 'cared' for her didn't give a damn about her girlhood. she's been confronted with her girlhood only in terms of pejoratives - 'you're a very x girl'

i am Thinking about the s1 line where we see sister fuck looming over Ava after she gets her period & saying to her 'you're a woman now' & how that is framed for us. just specifically what the entire event of menstruation feels when you are not cis.

ppl telling you that you're a woman (now, suddenly. like, fuck, when did i agree to this. who asked my permission?) and how you can feel your body being reframed and relegated in a certain way by the world and the anguish of that, often the blunt and speechless agony of it because the language that could latch onto what is wrong about the way that woman sits on your skin is unavailable to you

nonbinary avatrice is very mood to me because i think they in general have an extremely gnc thing going on. look no further than the outfits in s2. it is BOTH of them, also. Ava reads very boyish to me (hilariously in a very 'that kid with the band-aid on his nose & the blue shorts from pokemon who runs around on the beach going '!!! my footsteps keep disappearing'. ava silva-core).

there really is something in Ava that resists conventional femininity & i think it is very AVA the way she does it. she's giving the middle finger to it, she's shrugging at it. she's kissing gender on the mouth & girlbossing & also just being a little guy with her baseball cap turned around like ash ketchum. Ava silva 'gotta catch em' all' Silva but with the genders.

& yeah the fact that when beatrice is not in her habit she is wearing very masc clothing, putting her hands deep in her pockets, shirt collar sticking up out of her sweater. the outfit she wears to kick crimson in the face. the outfit from guttural scream fight night. her armour with its bandoleer of knives & her cute little throwing stars you use to hit soft tissues with pinpoint accuracy. the softness and the violence of her.

& you are so right. 'ppl tried to make me something i'm not' - you can imagine beatrice in the catholic school uniform with the pleated skirts and the soft v-neck jumper & the blazer & every teacher saying 'now girls' and 'please, girls' all the damn time. how electric it must feel to her to hear the word boy on her skin.

(& yeah. my first fic which is s1 beatrice POV i literally have a tag that's like beatrice is autistic & that's how i write her in everything. ligaments, star wars au bea they r all autistic. a part of it is... i am autistic so it ends up maybe being a situation where especially in second person it's hard not to write autistically but shrug emoji, i also just think bea reads very autistic to me. i have a whole bunch of my own feelings & opinions on what autism looks like w/ beatrice specifically but that's not for this post)

tldr: yes you are very smart and very right

[agentsquirrelsgotrobots]

IT'S ALIVE!

Here's a little morsel from the mafia au that i have been neglecting.

Blades found Chase smoking on the roof of the firehouse. Not just in his holoform, but in his bot mode too, the cygar in his fingers translating into a vape in the hands of his smartly dressed holoform, his white tank top and black, calf length pencil skirt not passing Blades's notice.

"Chief insisted on changing your holoform again buddy?"

"No, in fact, I changed it because I wanted to."

"Hm. At least he's giving you that. I've been trying to try out a femme holoform since I married my love. She isn't a fan. She's just a lot more picky about that than I was expecting. I know she is bi, but I just can't figure out what she likes!"

Chase smiled. "Let me guess, you keep wearing black or a pilot's uniform whenever you show off a new customization?"

Blades looked sheepish. "Yeah?"

Chase turned off the cygar and gave Blades a look. "You and I both know that Dani doesn't like it when you step on her toes and rarely wears dark clothing out of uniform. May I recommend wearing a bright sundress or maybe something casual? A pastel, low v neck t-shirt, some neutral flats, and jeans might be enough to convince her. I know how much you like your femme holoform."

Blades smiled. "Thanks, Chase! I gotta go change!" Blades ran back to the lift, giddy with excitement.

Chase shook his head. He and Blades really didn't know what they were getting into when they promised themselves to their partners. Chase put the cygar away and took out his promise medal, the shiny black metal engraved with prayers and promises in both English and Cybex. The date carved near the top seemed both so close, yet so far. Two summers. The wedding was two years away. 27 months, 7 seasons, and Cody's 14th and 15th birthday away. Heatwave's third death anniversary would be less than a month before, and it was two months after Blades and Dani's fourth wedding anniversary, and three months before the bots' five year anniversary of coming to earth.

It didn't feel real.

None of it did.

Chase heard the roof access door open, a shiver shooting down his spine as he recognized his fiancé's steel toed boots at the first step.

"My siren, what are you doing up here? I thought you had kicked that filthy habit." Charlie's voice was sweet, but Chase could hear the bite hidden in his words. Chase didn't have to turn around to know that his smile didn't reach his eyes. He felt Charlie rake his holoform's hand, rubbing it and wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

"It felt like a special occasion, love. Me and Blades were speaking about our upcoming nuptials."

"Ah, I get it. I had pre-wedding jitters while planning both my prior weddings. Just get rid of that crap. You're not Boulder or Graham, and any partner of mine will be smoke-free, especially around my son."

"Yes, sir." Chase said, stiffening as he realized his mistake. Charlie didn't like being called sir, at least, not by him.

"Chase, what did I say about that." Charlie said, digging his fingers into Chase's bare shoulder.

"You don't like that. I know, I apologize, I forget myself."

Charlie's hand went back to rubbing Chase's shoulder, moving to his neck, the ghost of Charlie's fingers making Chase's bot mode twitch.

"Well!" Charlie said, pulling away from Chase. "I got to pick up Cody from school and Graham from the lab. Are you coming with, or am I taking the miata?"

Chase straightened up and dismissed holoform. No way is he letting Charlie take his little pet project over him AGAIN. He hated that car with a passionate fury, and Charlie knew it. "I'm coming with you. Do you want to take the lift with me?"

Charlie smiled, getting exactly what he wanted. "Of course, my siren, I would love to."

[loominggaia]

Anonymous asked: How would each of the stimmers (Jeimos, Elska, Evan and Glenvar) react to someone trying to stop them (e.g grab their hand or try to make them stop doing what they're doing)? Anonymous asked: (Same Anon as last question, coming to correct it. It's Mr. Ocean, not Evan. I think I read "-an" and my brain filled it in.)

That's a good question. I think how they react depends on who is trying to stop them and how, but generally speaking...

Jeimos: If you gently ask them to stop wringing their hands, or softly put your hands over theirs, they will try their best to stop for as long as they can. Now if you shout at them or slap/grab their hands, they will probably just cry and do it even more. Jeimos is a sensitive little people-pleaser who can't stand when people are upset with them. They wring their hands so intensely sometimes that their long, elven fingers get tangled together, which is as unpleasant as it sounds. Their crew does give them shit about the hand-wringing and tries to stop them, not to be mean, but because Jeimos actually injures themselves by doing it too much.

Elska: Elska likes following the rules. If someone she respects tells her that pacing is not allowed, she will stop. But that nervous energy has to go somewhere, and she'll probably start doing some other thing like stamping her hoof or messing with her hair. If someone she doesn't respect tries to make her stop, I imagine she'd just push them over and politely tell them to kiss her ass. (Can you imagine someone like Itchy trying to tell her what to do? Yeah, he's getting kicked into next Tuesday lol)

Mr. Ocean: His parents hated his constant "dancing" and pinned him down many times, trying to make him stop and be "normal". He seemed calm while he was pinned, but the moment they let him go, he'd just start dancing again. Mr. Ocean claims there is music inside him, and if he's asked to stop dancing, he'll start drumming or humming instead. If you ask him to stop, he will do his best, but the habit is so ingrained that he'll start up again in seconds without even realizing it. He can't help it, he's just gotta boogie! The only way he can stop dancing is by smoking copious amounts of dreamleaf, which will knock him on his ass for a while. But as soon as that high wears off...yep, it's right back to boogie town.

Glenvar: If you pull his thumb out of his mouth, you are absolutely getting bitten or punched in the face. Even his friends can't get away with this. Sucking his thumb is the only self-soothing technique he's got aside from drinking, and it's something he only does when alcohol isn't available. So unless you've got booze to give him, he's going to redirect all that nervous energy into beating the snot out of you. If you ask him to stop, no matter how politely, he'll just tell you to eat shit and keep doing it.

*

Questions/Comments?

Lore Masterpost

Read the Series

[the-fiction-witch]

4th Creature

Media Orbit Ever After

Character Nigel

Couple Nigel X Reader

Rating Scary

Halloween Day 4

I stood as usual on the roof of our little hovel and grabbed whatever I could. Once I filled up the airlock with enough space for me, I headed down shut it up and headed inside, kicked off my suit.

"Y/n?" I called

"Kitchen Nigel," she called back so I hurried over and found her deep in some dishes in her patchwork dress and her sweet little braid, I wrapped my arms around her, and nuzzled into her neck which caused her to giggle. "How'd it go?"

"Perfect, we have plenty for the next week or two,"

"That's very good," she smiled as she turned her head and sweetly kissed me

"You want some help?"

"I'm alright, go on and get sorting I'll come to help when I'm finished with the dishes," she smiled

"Alright," I nodded as I headed back and sorted out the various items I had gathered today when something moved "Whoa!"

"what's the matter, Nigel?" She asked as she came over from the kitchen

"Something moved, stay back darling," I told her as I stopped her from getting any closer

"What was it?"

"Maybe a dark matter spider?"

"Maybe, just stay back I don't want you hurt,"

I moved the junk again and saw this - Thing! scambered across our floor. It had hexagonal eyes, eighteen little legs and two large spiralling arms.

"Ahhh! What is that?" I yelped

"I don't know, I've never seen one before," I told her as it hid under our table "Grab me a Tupperware," I told her and she grabbed one for me "Shut our bedroom door I don't know what this might do," I told her she nodded kissing my temple before she ran to the bedroom almost shut it completely but she kept it open enough she could peek out. I snuck over and kicked the chair to get it to come out and as soon as it came out I quickly jumped and trapped it "Gotcha!" I smirked the thing panicked and jumped clearly angry and then it spits from its spirals and it burnt through the box like acid "ahhhhh fuck! fuck! fuck!" I yelled as I rushed over to the kitchen I grabbed a metal pot and quickly caught it again

"Is everything okay?" She asked

"Yes, darling. Everything's fine," I gasped "Open the door to the airlock sorry to say but we're losing a pot,"

"Do what you gotta do Nigel," She nods she rushes from our room to the airlock door opened I slid the pot over making sure nothing got out as soon as it was on the other side of the door I let go and hit the button as hard and fast as I could the door quickly slamming shut, lucky this door has a habit of being a bit fast the moment it closed the thing got out, so I quickly opened the airlock leaving it and the pot to be sucked out into the vacuum. "Burners on?" She asked

"Hell yeah!" I nodded

She rushed over and put the burner shields on a large shield that would burn up any living matter on the hovel surface and I shut the airlock.

"Twenty-four hours, no one comes out or in. The burners stay on keep a life scanner on for a while," I told her

"Yes Nigel," she nods

"And if you could make me a coffee darling,"

"Yes Nigel," she smiled kissing my cheek before she headed to the kitchen.

[theshippingcorner]

SAge u cannot say that and not expect this. Jill x Leon with "Rookie" somewhere, u decide the plot

When my friends are screaming at me they call me Sagel so do with that what you will.

Ever since Raccoon City Leon and Jill had been co-workers, spending a lot of time together on and off the clock really as Jill was a bit of an energetic puppy in contrast to Leon's more serious attitude. She was always playing keep-away with his things, and he always had to pick her up to get her to stop...but really they both had a blast with it. Today was no different, Jill snuck up on Leon while he was doing some paperwork and yoinked his flask from his pocket, holding it away from him with a playful smile!

"Gotta keep your guard up, Rookie~!"

Leon paused and huffed, rolling back in his chair and grabbing for the flask she kept just out of his reach.

"Come on Jill give that back, I don't need Chris seeing that I have it at work he's going to be all annoying about it. Besides, I told you not to call me that!"

She just giggled and got up on a chair to hold it up over him as he got out of his own to try and take it from her, she waved it a bit I the air.

"Oh don't worry Rookie Chris won't even notice, he never notices when you bring Rum to work~"

Besides, she didn't like his drinking habits. Its why she played keep-away with his flask more than anything else. Regardless Leon huffed and picked her up off the chair she was standing on by her hips causing her to squeal, dropping the metal flask as she grabbed onto his shoulders so she wouldn't fall.

"Leon!"

He laughed a bit and slung her over his shoulder while he got down to grab the flask, making sure he didn't drop her.

"I win~"

She pouted and wiggled her way out of his arms, ruffling up his hair

"Oh whatever, I could still deadlift you easy Rookie you know that."

He rolled his eyes and sat back at his desk

"I have a name, Jill. You know that."

She got in front of him, grabbing the arms of his chair.

"Yeah and I don't have a nickname from you so who's the real criminal here?"

Leon paused and laughed, pulling her down into his lap with a hum as he rested his chin on her shoulder

"What would I call you then, Puppy~? You sure act like one with all that energy~"

He laughed softly as she blushed bright red, pouting a little bit at the teasing but ultimately she caved and held his arms around her waist

"Puppy works."

Leon was surprised to hear it but chuckled softly, rolling back to his desk to work again with her on his lap

"Alright then Puppy, just don't steal my things again today, I don't feel like playing fetch with you~"

He laughed softly as she gently kicked his leg but smiled, staying sat with him with a content hum

"Yeah yeah, Love ya Rookie~"

[cultofdixon]

Anxious Habits

Daryl Dixon • They/Them Pronouns • You were always there for Daryl. From being neighbors growing up to roommates that were oblivious to the other’s feelings. Now facing the apocalypse together with your found family. But only you knew how to handle a certain habit • SFW/Smol Angst • TW: Canon Violence / Past Abuse Mentioned (Flashbacks) / Anxiety / Injuries

Requested by: Anon

Y/N frowns approaching the Dixon residence which was just another trailer in the trailer park they lived in. They carried their backpack full of the necessities for another Father Dixon Scream Out as they watch Daryl step out of his trailer with clenched fists.

The two found themselves in the woods behind the trailer park…as Daryl kicks his feet in the creek, Y/N took care of the cut on his face and cracked open an ice pack for the black eye he was rocking. He held the ice pack with one hand and chewed on thumb with the other being lost in thought as Y/N finishes putting the bandaid on his cheek.

They noticed how bad he was chewing on his finger and took his hand out of his mouth holding it in their warm soft hands. Daryl stares at them for a moment before relaxing after they did such. The two now just listening to the running water…

________

“Hey”

Daryl continued to chew on his thumb but looked up to the familiar voice of his best friend seeing their worried expression. He continues to do what he was doing but no longer looking at them.

“If you want me to beat up Rick, I will. What he did was uncalled for.” Y/N sat beside him on his cot frowning to him biting his fingers before taking both of his hands into theirs. “We’ll find him though. Your brother is a roach after all”

“He still hates being referred to as such yknow”

“I mean. Am I wrong?” Y/N smirks listening to Daryl laugh as he shook his head.

________

Y/N sat beside Daryl outside of his and Merle’s apartment listening to the eldest dixon yell at his woman at the time. The two were uncomfortable by how he was treating who’s supposed to be his other half.

Suddenly a thud was heard and they both turned to each other anxiously making Daryl start biting at his thumb. But once Y/N pulled his hand away from his mouth squeezing his hand, they both heard Merle yell out more expletives followed by “why did you push me over”. Both were thankful it wasn’t the woman but after that the two saw the cop lights flashing, indicating a neighbor called.

“Time to go”

“We’ll get him later” Y/N grabs Daryl’s hand dragging him the hell out of there.

________

Daryl winces awake causing Y/N to stop chewing at their own fingers bringing themselves to his bedside.

“Yea alright?”

“If shitty is alright, then I’m peachy”

“Right. Well…Andrea won’t be doing that again”

The archer glares at his best friend seeing the guilty look written all over their face. “The fuck yea do?”

“I already apologized so I don’t believe it matters if you know” Y/N frowns picking at the skin they chewed on their thumb seeing the split that made them cringe a bit. Daryl took one of their hands to stop them from messing with it.

“If yea punched her out. Did you at least not tuck in your thumb when yea did it?”

“Hey I’m not an idiot. I know how to fight a bitch if I gotta…but yeah I broke her nose” Y/N sighs, smiling slightly when Daryl couldn’t help the laugh that escape him hearing what they did.

________

Daryl frowns sitting in the only chair of the hospital room staring at the empty bed as he felt the room closing in making him feel worse about what happened. He pressed his right thumb into his left palm trying not to bite at his fingers when he got anxious.

Fuck it. He started biting at his thumb thinking of all the worse possibilities.

Then the door opened as the nurse pushed Y/N in in their wheelchair.

“I’m going to get your discharge papers”

“Alright nurse. But don’t forget to tell that boss of yours to shove it if she doesn’t give you the day off for your daughter’s recital” Y/N yells as the nurse leaves laughing.

Daryl frowns locking eyes with Y/N who seemed alright for the most part. Even if their left wrist was in a cast, a bit of road rash on the same upper arm to bicep, and a concussion with a butterfly bandage on their right eyebrow.

“You gonna beat yourself up about it?”

“It was my bike you crashed on”

“Yeah but I was driving. So. Shut the fuck up Dixon brain” Y/N rolled over enough to grab his shoulders and shake him. “Stop blaming yourself for shit you didn’t do! And stop biting your thumbs. I like your thumbs and you can’t hurt them” they frown holding his hands even if their wrist was bothering them. Daryl knew they were on pain killers but knew everything they said were true.

“We’re going to your place and you’re lettin’ me take care of yea”

“Mmmm…gotta take the bus back”

“You can’t fall asleep until yea get home. But I’ll make sure you’re comfy at least”

“Darrylllll….”

“What?” He frowns feeling their good hand squeeze his.

“Stop stressing…and can we get soup on the way home?”

“Sure” Daryl laughs holding their hands being comfortable with them as they waited.

________

“We’ll find Carol. I don’t believe she’s dead. She’ll turn up” Y/N frowns watching Daryl pick at his fingers as they carefully took his hands into theirs feeling him pull away at first before giving in.

The archer rests his forehead against theirs taking a second to breathe. Collect himself in the comforts of his person.

Glenn has noticed the two act like such and gain suspicion of what their relationship was. A small part of him wanted that closeness with somebody and he gets it from Maggie.

“Hey Y/N?”

The moment past and Glenn went to Y/N for something but it was more so an answer to a question he’s been stuck with since he’s met both them and Daryl.

“You’ve got a second?”

“Always, G. What’s up?”

“How…how do you do that?”

Y/N tilts their head confused as Glenn took the seat beside them enjoying the cool Georgia breeze they received outside the prison.

“How can you get him to calm down? Relax? You did it back when we found out we lost Sophia. Even helped Carol…but you get him to stop doing that chewing thing. It’s like the chewing nail habit but that’s a hard habit to stop”

“Oh he doesn’t stop” Y/N smiles seeing Glenn’s confusion grow on his face. “Daryl is always worried because that’s how he is. As am I. I worry about those I love and it sends me in a spiral when I can’t fix the problem. So I help Daryl ease his and that helps me…besides, he’s gonna really hurt himself if he keeps biting his fingers down to a rawness”

“Y/N…you don’t have to carry everything yknow”

“I do, and you know you shouldn’t either” They continue to smile squeezing his shoulder before rising and heading back inside the prison.

He suddenly felt a wave of relief and quickly turned the their direction realizing they just made him feel better.

•

After the prison fell, Daryl looked at his bleeding fingers after biting at them for the days he was separated from everyone else. But more importantly Y/N.

“We’ve got bandages in one of the packs. Need’em?” Rick gestures to the fingers watching Daryl shake his head thinking to himself that he deserved this.

He can hear their voice in his head, the sense of worry in their tone when noticing what he’s done before. The phantom feeling of their soft by scarred hands squeezing his.

“Daryl, you okay?”

“I lost’em…I should’ve went back to the prison to get’em…Now I lost my favorite person in the whole world”

“Y/N ain’t dead. I don’t believe that one bit”

“We won’t know…until proven otherwise…” Daryl frowns looking back down at his fingers feeling the sting of pain along with the phantom feeling of them.

He should’ve said something sooner…

about how much they meant to him.

________

“Hey stranger”

Daryl stops pitching his tent when he heard the familiar voice that he thought he lost when the outbreak started. He quickly stood up finding Y/N standing before him with that signature smirk of theirs.

“Daryl why yea stop—-Holy fucking shit” Merle points to Y/N surprised that they’re standing right there before the brothers. “They didn’t die dude”

The youngest suddenly pushed the oldest over to shut it and run the short distance bringing Y/N into his embrace. They held onto him for as long as he needed before pulling back taking his hands into theirs.

“Still stressin? Should be glad I’m back”

“You fucking know I am” Daryl pulled them back into his embrace listening to their laugh logging it more into his memory.

________

“Daryl come with me” Rick states not waiting for him to respond as the archer got up from the porch of their new home that he was still adjusting to.

Carol wrapped his fingers even if he did start to pick at the bandaging. He can’t beat his habit and doesn’t have his person.

As Daryl caught up with Rick to the infirmary he saw the small crowd surrounding the gurney. He gently pushes Maggie and Carol aside before locking eyes with the familiar pair of beautiful E/C colored globes.

“They’re a little banged up but they are alright. I found’em on a quick run” Glenn smiles rubbing circles on Y/N’s back as they slowly rise from the gurney making their family huddle protectively in case they fell.

But they had Daryl to catch them if they did. Even if he didn’t wait to bring them into his embrace.

“Yea can’t leave me anymore”

“Mm…heard from Carol about your fingers, is it just for that reason honey?” Y/N smiles parting slightly from him with a slight twitch of a frown when seeing the bandages on his fingers.

“You know I can’t live without yea” Daryl chokes up on his words feeling the tears get the best of him as he didn’t care who was looking at them as he kisses them firmly before squeezing them in his embrace.

“I can’t live without you either Dar” Y/N eases into his embrace feeling as if it was just them in that room while the world around them blacks out.

Just the two of us.

[taylorbuggtaylortot]

I just want a motherfucking break

Everything feels like a motherfucking mistake

Trying to tell myself everything happens for a reason

Have some faith

What more can I believe in

I try and do everything that I possibly can

I try to be everything I possibly am

For you

For me

For the world at large

I’m sick of being in fucking charge

I was born kicking and screaming

This shit is all I know

And I’m prideful and I’m stubborn

That shits gotta go

Gotta shake off the bad habits to soak down in the good and it’d probably be easier if somebody understood cause no one sees my direction and understands my mind

They look at me on the surface so who I am is hard to find

I’d never wear her exterior out in public for you to see her

Protect myself at all costs

So please excuse my demeanor

And I’m so fucking sick of feeling alone

When you got blood for family but still no home

When you got love for people who did nothing but kick you when you were down

Do I have a good heart or do I look like a fucking clown

I thought I came out the dark side

I was all Love and light

But to be well versed in peace

You need to be well versed with the fight

And I think that’s why I’m overlooked and no one knows what the truth is

But if you knew the half of it

You’d look like a fucking doofus

I’m existing cause it’s possible

Giving up was never optional

Even when I took all those fucking pills and ended up in the hospital

I broke my legs And walked it off

No matter what my mind was taught

And if existing is bliss and life is just such a beautiful blessing , I guess I’ll just overlook all of the pain cause of all the lessons

Yeah you struggled some so you wear your patch like a badge of honor but I can guarantee if you seen what I did you’d feel like a fucking coward

Do your lines and grab your gun and wear your fists like it’s a weapon

But cross your heart and thank your stars acting like you need protection when life ain’t been perfect but it’s never been that evil

And that shit isn’t trivial

Think I’m stupid? Well I know how to alter my personality to suit you

just so that I know what you’re thinking and what your opinion is

Just so I can put the ball in my court And Slam dunk on your shit

Take a good guess on which part of it is me or her or them

These words will probably be the only honest thing you get

You lucky you ain’t had to cope in certain ways I have

Cause when the pain is all too much then the drugs is all you have

Never trust a soul but I wanted love so bad

But I can’t let my walls down enough to be what I want to have

Fuck

-tf

[casspurrjoybell-28]

Alpha's Temptation - Chapter 6

*Warning: Adult Content*  

- Ash -

When we pull into the parking lot it becomes apparent to me that everyone is staring at our car. It makes me anxious as Daemon pulls up to the drop-off, offering no farewell.

I take the hint and get out, greeted by the curious stares of several students. I try to keep my head down, hating the overwhelming attention I'm getting.

I don't exactly know why they're staring at me but I think it probably has something to do with Daemon dropping me off.

I fumble my already crinkled schedule out of my pocket, hands shaking as I read off my first period. Room 223-Algebra.

I look around, trying to understand where I am located on the campus, looking down at the paper as I walk on. I find myself bumping into someone not a minute later, stumbling back as my schedule falls to the floor.

"Watch where you're going, runt."

I look up with wide eyes at the mean-looking Alpha I've bumped into. As he and the two side-kicks that flank him glare at me, I feel so intimidated that I can't say anything to excuse myself.

"What? Are you deaf?" the Alpha spits.

"I-I..." I stutter, trying to form words.

Suddenly there's someone beside me, a female Omega with frizzy red hair who picks up my schedule off the floor.

"Oh piss off, Trent."

She glares at the Alpha with her fierce, baby blue eyes.

"You're such a fucking douchebag."

The Alpha appears unaffected by her words but seems to let go of taunting me.

"Whatever. As if I care what a bitch like you thinks," he snarls as he walks off, his goons following after.

"Dickhead.." the girl yells after them, flipping off their backs as they recede down the hallway.

Then she turns to me and gives a sympathetic smile from her rosy-cheeked freckled face.

"Sorry about that, love," she says as she pats my arm. "Trent's a douche. He's got some type of superiority complex when it comes to Omegas. He's been harassing us since freshman year."

"Oh, that sounds tough," I reply dumbly. "I mean, thanks for helping me out," I add sheepishly.

"It's no problem love. We Omegas gotta look out for each other. What's your name, by the way?" she asks as we walk down the hall and past the lockers.

"Ash, what's yours?"

"I'm Lylah. Lylah Sarkis. Are you new here?" she asks curiously.

"Yeah. It's my first day at this school."

Her eyes widen at that.

"Are you by any chance the boy who showed up with Daemon today? My friend Wren texted me about an Omega he's never seen before getting out of Daemon's car."

I'm taken aback by how fast the news has spread.

"You know him?"

Lylah gives me a funny look.

"Duh, everyone knows Daemon Steele. He's the son of Alpha Lucien and a freaking tatted-up hottie. I don't know one Omega who wouldn't kill to be in the passenger seat of his car."

"Oh, really? I didn't know," I say, scratching the back of my neck awkwardly.

Daemon being famous isn't a good thing. Now everyone will be talking. And I don't wanna be the subject of their talk. Lylah considers me for a moment before saying,

"You're not… from this pack, are you?"

I feel my alert go off at the question, realizing my obliviousness to the goings on's of the pack probably make that quite obvious. But I recall the backstory Lucien made me rehearse, in order to conceal my identity.

"Guilty," I admit. "I'm... an orphan from Blood Creek pack. They didn't have any room for me so Alpha Lucien took me in on a mission."

It technically isn't a lie if you trade Blood Creek for Dark Moon. Lylah's expression falls as she puts her hands over her mouth in regret.

"Shit. I'm sorry I asked. I'm trying to fix my nosy habit I swear."

I laugh lightly at her, shaking my head.

"No, it's okay. I don't mind telling people."

"Awe, Ash you're such a sweetie," she latches onto my arm, leaning down to scrunch her head to my shoulder as she's about two inches taller than me.

I'm not used to this... the tender skin-ship from someone I've just met but it's nice. She shows me to my class before the bell rings and promises to meet me at lunch.

Despite the inquisitive glances I get throughout my classes, no one directly approaches me about Daemon. The others students look like they want to but don't know how to ask.

So everything is going pretty smoothly until 4th period. I walk into class late after a flustered search to find the room and the only seat open is the one next to Trent. The bully Alpha from this morning.

"Please sit down so we can start class," the teacher urges me.

I reluctantly trudge to the desk, watching the knowing smirk that comes to Trent's face as I approach. I just try to ignore him as I sit down, getting my supplies out.

At first, Trent doesn't say anything but it doesn't last for long. I should've known my positive experience so far would soon be ruined by something.

"I heard you're Daemon's bitch?" Trent sneers, leaning his face on his hand, elbow on the desk as he angles himself toward me.

My face flushes in embarrassment at the assumption.

"I'm not. He only drove me to school."

"Yeah right. I bet he fucked you in that nice black car of his."

I gape at him, appalled at the vulgarity of his words, especially because we've barely just met.

"You're wrong.." I say a bit too loudly, causing students' heads to swivel around and stare at me.

"Quiet, boys," the teacher scolds us before continuing to drawl on about how the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.

I shrink in my seat, gripping my shirt tightly, uncomfortable by the attention of the class, only relinquishing my grip until the students turn back to the front of the class.

Trent, on the other hand, looks pleased with himself, a smug look on his face as he pretends to pay attention to the lecture. I glower at him, still annoyed at what he'd said but thankful he doesn't say any more.