#four posts today y’all are being fed

[loverd0ve]

𝜗𝜚

[angstsfordays]

Beautiful Pain (7)

Chapter Seven- Gone

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced! Reader

Summary: Post-Blip, you started to feel lost when most of the Avengers team are gone. Coping with your loss, you still find hope in the connection with your remaining friends. However, it is not easy as everyone is trying to figure their lives after the Blip.

Having a long history with Bucky ever since you both saved each other from Hydra, you were still glad you had Bucky after all this time. However, as you try to give Bucky space to find himself after being pardoned for his past, you start to wonder if you should ever cross the line of friendship before it’s too late.

That thought might have to be put on hold though, when you, Sam and Bucky find yourselves having to deal with threats that continue to rise in a post-Blip world.

Chapter synopsis: In your pursuit of Karli and her group, unexpected revelations come to light. Lines are now crossed and that there is no turning back.

Warnings: Violence. Angst. A bit of language. Maybe a tear-inducing moment?

Word count: 5k

Notes: In celebration of the last ep, today is a double release! 🥳 We are already at the 7th chapter of this series. It also has covered one of the most climactic episodes of the TFATWS series and wow, I can't believe we are here! 😱

I have yet to see the last episode but I have plans to do it tonight. I thought I could put it off until I finish writing for ep 5 but I couldn't wait. This would help me to plan the direction I want to come for the upcoming chapters. 😌 Hope y’all will stick to this series despite the show has ended. 😅

Please let me know what you think of the series so far! 🥰🙏🏼

The tag list is still open! Let me know if you want to join with a message or comment in the chapters!

Previous: Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six |

Next: Chapter Eight

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With Zemo’s inside information, all of you were heading to Donya’s ceremony in hopes to find Karli. You weren’t sure what to do knowing that you had secured a possible chance with Dovich to talk to Karli.

Grabbing your blazer, you made the move to join your group when you were greeted by the sight of John and Lemar walking towards you all.

“Karli Morgenthau is too dangerous for you to pull this shit.” John thought it fit to lecture your group. You were walking beside Sam when you heard Bucky sarcastically questioning John on how he managed to locate your group.

All of your annoyance grew as John decided he doesn’t want to miss out on the action given his new status and hence, responsibility as- urgh you don’t even want to say call him that title in your head.

“Come on, man. You don’t think three Avengers can walk around Latvia without drawing too much attention?” Lemar responded in kind.

John in all his fear of missing out started to question why you all had broken Zemo out of prison. Bucky patronizingly mentioned that Zemo broke himself out technically but John grew more irritated at not being taken seriously.

John’s higher than thou self was drawing attention with his loud talk and Sam had to cut him off. Zemo explained that he knew of Karli’s location and indicated continuing on his tracks before being stopped by John.

Sam went on ahead to explain that Karli would most likely be at Donya’s memorial and interception would take place there. Lemar noted the risks of casualties give n that civilians would be present.

John seeming pleased with the information started talking of a plan to take Karli in by surprise. This plan of ambush didn’t sit well with Sam and he proposed to talk to her alone. John refused, saying he didn’t want the possibility of losing Karli again.

Sam countered back that it was the best timing to reason with her, as she was now feeling vulnerable with someone dear to her loss. John vehemently rebuffed Sam’s proposal and claimed that reasoning with Karli was not an option, given that she had bombed a building with people in it.

Lemar, who you observed to be more level-headed than John ever would be chimed in that Sam could be attacked without any backup.

“And if I go in hot and the ops go wrong, more people will die,” Sam stated firmly.

“Sam is right.” Everyone turned to you and you continued to speak. “Look-” You shook in disbelief as you were about to break the promise you had with Dovich but you knew the situation called for it.

“I met with one of Karli’s guys.” All of the men were stunned at your revelation and you could see the betrayal on Bucky’s face more so than the rest.

“When was this?” He spoke up first as he looked on at you in disappointment.

“When we were out fishing for information on Donya, I miraculously spotted him on the streets and followed him. We talked.”

“And you didn’t bring him in?!” John accused as if you had done something terribly wrong. Bucky turned to give John the stink eye before going back to you.

“Why would you keep this from us at all?” Bucky couldn’t believe that you would have kept this information from him of all of the people.

“I promised him, he was going to talk to Karli for me after the memorial. He was our best chance to persuade Karli rather than go in by ourselves. We might not even have a shot.” You defended your actions.

“And how was he so agreeable to your request?” Bucky asked disdainfully. You didn’t like his judgmental stare at you, like as if he couldn’t believe you managed this feat.

“I saved him before back when we all fought the Flag Smashers on the truck. I convinced him with sincerity, happy?” You snapped back at the brooding super-soldier. Sam witnessing the once again tense exchange between the two of you intervened and spoke.

“That’s good, Y/N. Well done.”

“He said that he would only have me speak to Karli but I think you should do it, Sam. I can do talk to him again once he contacts me. You are the best one of us to do it.” You knew of Sam’s experiencing with counselling soldiers dealing with trauma and knew that he would do a better job to talk to Karli.

Sam was encouraged at your support for him and pulled you into a side hug which you returned gladly to him too. Bucky grew irritated at how your relationship with him was continuing to sour and began to feel disheartened. John being the thorn in your side still did not relent in his opinion.

“Are you gonna let your partner walk into a room with a super-soldier alone?” John continued to harp on the matter.

“He dealt with worse and he’s not my partner.” Bucky curtly answered.

“I trust Sam, he’s more capable than you think.” You chimed in. Bucky gave you a brief warm look as the two of you had put your differences aside for a moment to agree on Sam’s competency.

When Lemar asked John to give this plan a chance, you could see the latter wavering on his stance. It seemed his soft spot for his partner and friend worked. The men still thought it was better to go for the memorial straight as they were not sure if Dovich could hold up his end of the promise.

You showed hesitation but decided to give in, knowing that you were outnumbered. Zemo led the group to approach a little girl and you could see him giving some money to the girl in exchange for the revelation of Donya’s memorial.

You all were soon directed to an old building and the little girl pointed up to a stairway before going off. Sam gave you a nod before making his way first.

John took it upon himself to cuff Zemo before stopping Sam, informing him that he only had ten minutes with Karli. You had it with his bossy attitude and wanted to throw a punch in his face.

As the time passed in the room, it was silent. Everyone took a spot to wait but John was pacing up and down. Bucky positioned himself near the door while you took a spot opposite Lemar.

Your eyes glanced nervously to Bucky, suddenly feeling all weird and awkward. You never had this feeling in a long time. The only time you felt his way was when you had just started living with him as you two were on the run and in hiding.

The sudden comfort and ease you had with him seemed to vanish with your first fight as you would call it.

“Hey, uh-now it’s not really the time…” Your attention to Lemar who was now speaking at you directly. Giving a surprising look at his unexpected conversation starter, you listened intently.

“I really am a fan of yours.” Your mouth opened slightly in surprise at his revelation. Tilting your head to the side, you gave him a quizzical look.

“Just thought your powers are really cool. I was amazed to see them in action back in Germany.” You weren’t sure how to react but nodded shyly and thanked him. Bucky couldn’t believe what transgressed in front of him.

Peering over to see you with a bashful expression, he couldn’t help to grow irritated out of jealousy.

“Were you born with them?” Lemar inquired politely and you nodded in response. Lemar had another look of wonder before continuing to ask.

“That’s extraordinary.” You shrugged your shoulders as you didn’t know what to respond. Sure, you know your powers were to be envied but you didn’t think of yourself holier.

“It’s nothing to be envied. I find more respect for people who are able to do extraordinary things without such advantages.“ Your humility gained a deepened sense of admiration from Lemar. “Thank you for your service.” Throwing a smile in his way, yours grew wider as Lemar returned one your way.

Eyes looking over to John, you gave a slight brief nod before looking away. You also had to acknowledge his contributions but you didn’t like him as much so that was the best you could do.

Minutes passed again before John grew more impatient by the second.

“No no no, this is a bad idea.” He started whispering to himself as he shook his head fervently.

“It hasn’t been ten minutes, John. Just sit tight.” Bucky noted with a huff.

“Don’t patronize me.” You could see John getting fed up with Bucky. Walking towards the other end of the room from where Bucky was, John stood to look at the clock and you saw the determination in his eyes. “That’s it. I am going in.”

“Woah, back down mister. You’re being too rash.” Moving to the side to block his path, you held up a hand to stop him from moving.

“And you’re being too relaxed.” He seethed impatiently at your interception. As his hands laid on your shoulders to move you physically, Bucky immediately went to snatch his hand away.

You felt yourself being shifted backwards and towards Bucky before he took a step in front of you. Both men puffed up their chests in dominance and looked at each other with distaste.

“This is all really easy for you two, isn’t it?” John’s eyes moved to yours before landing back at Bucky. “All those serum and powers running through your veins…”

“Your partner needs backup in there. Are you really going to have Sam’s blood on your hands?” John enunciated each word of his last sentence strongly to pressure you.

In a matter of seconds, John looked at the opening Bucky gave when he came to protect you and went for it. He quickly made his way to where Sam and Karli were.

You saw the look of distraught and betrayal on Karli’s face before she lunged for John and knocked him and Sam over. She immediately made a run for it with Bucky hot on her trail. Helping Sam up, you two made your way to back Bucky up.

The big building was an unfamiliar maze and the three of you tried to find Karli’s location. Hearing the sounds of crashing and gunshots, you all tried your best to follow the sounds to the exact location.

When you arrived at the door, you opened it to see Zemo knocked out cold on the floor. John was already at the scene and Lemar just joined a few moments later. The little pieces of glass with unknown blue residues confirmed your suspicions on what they were.

Oh god.

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“I deal with the power broker when the time comes,” Karli reassured the two men were worried about fighting two wars with both the power broker and Sam’s group.

“And I know a way we can deal with Sam without getting involved in a direct fight.” Karli intended. Nico and Dovich exchanged a brief look before Dovich asked how they were able to do so.

“We separate them. And then we kill Captain America.” Karli’s intentions didn’t sit well with Nico but he maintained a neutral expression. Dovich sat on the thought for a moment and remembered about you

“Hey look, Sam’s group is an odd mix but I don’t think they mean any harm. Except for Zemo, of course.”

With furrowed brows, Karli indicated for Dovich to explain himself. Dovich decided to speak about the earlier encounter he had with the Avenger.

“I talked with Y/N prior and she promised that she didn’t want any bloodshed.” Karli scoffed at her friend’s words and shook her head in disbelief. How was Dovich so trustful of you?

“That’s what Sam said too. But guess how it turned out.” She retorted with her own example to show how your group couldn’t be trusted.

“She’s not like that. I believe her, she can be trusted.” Dovich insisted. Karli and Nico were curious as to why was their friend was pushing for you.

“What’s gotten into you, Dovich? Why are you defending her?”

“Karli, she saved my life back in Germany. Her actions then spoke louder given she only met us for the first time.”

“She’s still loyal to her group. She’s loyal to the Avengers.” Karli continued to put down Dovich’s vouch for you. He then decided to change his tactics.

“I think she can be convinced to join our group. Imagine if she stood on our side, we would be unstoppable.” Karli looked up in interest as she considered the possibility of you fighting for their cause. Indeed, with your powers, the Flag Smashers would become a force to be reckoned with.

“That’s impossible.” Karli tried to reason with the fact that you were still with the enemy and you wouldn’t be turned so easily. She knew of your history and how you were loyal to a fault for Bucky Barnes. Would you so easily leave your friends to join them?

“She empathises with our cause. She said so herself.” Dovich added in finality, hoping that Karli could be convinced.

“Hmm, we’ll see about that.”

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Your head was spinning from earlier events and you came back to the common room once you had a quick shut-eye upstairs. You could hear Bucky and Sam bantering about the same old topic on Steve’s shield.

You also heard Bucky’s comments about Walker and shook your head in disbelief at how inherently frustrating the man was. What could have been a successful peace talk with Karli was ruined by his brashness to display his authority.

The door burst open behind you and you looked over to see John coming in with Lemar, demanding for all of you to turn Zemo in. Sam took charge of the situation and put John in his place, stating he had been nothing but a thwart in your plans.

John being the arrogant pick he was tried to size up Sam, mocking him by saying he could put down the shield to make it fair for the both of them. You were fuming with the blatant disrespect that John was showing.

Before you could take another step, a familiar spear swooped in and lodged itself in the pillar near John. The familiar sounds of metal clanging let you know who was arriving and you saw familiar Dora Milajae members walking into the room.

Understanding the Wakandan words that were being spoken, you knew the Dora Milajae were here for Zemo.

John being the arrogant prick that he was, was proud to introduce himself as Captain America. An awkward silence ensued when they didn’t return a response. Sam tried to help John out by advising him that he should be careful to step on the Dora Milajae’s toes.

Ignoring Sam’s words, John went on to tell the Dora Milajae that they had no jurisdictions it had little effect when Ayo refuted his claims. Seeing John scoff before taking a step towards Ayo to place his hand on her shoulder, you immediately winced once Ayo swiftly knocked John down in three moves.

The scene in front of you unfolded quickly as John were quick to fight against the Dora Milajae and Lemar even stepped in to help his partner out. Seeing how the two men were hopelessly struggling with the warriors caused you to cringe in embarrassment.

“We should do something,” Sam said as he had the same sentiments as you.

“Looking strong, John.” Bucky commentated sarcastically with his arms crossed as if he was fine with how things were.

“Bucky….” Sam said in a nagging tone, as if Bucky was a child who did not want to do his chores. You looked over to give him a nod to say that Bucky should indeed step in before John really gets pummelled.

“Ayo, let’s talk about this”. Bucky stepped forward to intervene. Looking to the side, you saw one of the Dora aiming to give Lemar a blow before Sam stepped in. She managed to knock Sam down onto the couch and you knew it was your chance to step up.

You refused to use your powers with the Doras so you held your hands up to negotiate with them.

“Spare him, please.” You pleaded on Lemar’s behalf. The Dora withheld her weapon as she looked over you, recognising you from your Wakandan days. She left you

A sound of metal dropping caught your attention as you saw Bucky’s arm falling limply on the ground. His astonished expression accompanied by pain at Ayo’s disarm of his arm also brought you a shock.

In the midst of the chaos, you found that Zemo had disappeared. Ayo went to open the bathroom door and checked the room. She stated that Zemo was gone.

Ayo stated that their business was finished here and they would take their leave first. You helped Lemar up before walking over to Bucky who picked up his vibranium arm in disbelief.

“Did you know they could do that?” Sam asked and Bucky shook his head in response. You bit your lips as you weren’t sure what to say.

In an attempt to comfort him, you reached over to give his shoulder a squeeze. Bucky was glad that your previous enmity towards him seemed to be gone and your interactions seemed to be back to normal.

“They were not even super soldiers.” Hearing John’s dismay at his utter defeat, you almost felt bad for him. Sam gave him a once over as John stood up, acting he was fine before leaving with Lemar.

The three of you left couldn’t believe Zemo made his grand escape even with all of you in the room.

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The three of you were making your way out in search of Zemo until Sam received a call from his sister. Apparently, Karli called Sarah as a strong message to Sam. Karli threatened to involve Sam’s nephews if Sam didn’t do as she said.

Your head shook in disbelief, you believed Karli to be different. To hear that she was pulling such a tactic changed your initial opinion of her. Sam received a message to meet her alone but you and Bucky wouldn’t let him go in alone.

Once the three of you suited up, you all made your way to the location. Entering the open plaza in the building, Sam called for Karli and you saw her head popped into view. You all made your way to her level.

You let Sam approached her while Bucky and you put yourselves at the side. Sam called her out for trying to involve his family but Karli replied that she would never harm them. Her eyes moved to where you and Bucky stood, noting aloud that Sam didn’t come alone as intended.

Karli reiterated that she never wanted to hurt Sam and that he was just a tool in the regimes she vowed to destroy. Killing Sam would be meaningless to her.

“I was gonna ask you to join me. And maybe Y/N back there. Dovich has spoken highly of you.” Seeing your eyes widened in surprise at the offer, Karli smirked before continuing.

“You could do better than them. You would be welcomed and appreciated within our circle. I know of your loss, your grief with the rest of your original team gone. You can find purpose with us.” You stepped forward as if her words were drawing you in.

Sam and Bucky were at a sudden loss at your movement. They didn’t think you would even process Karli’s proposal and were curious to know what you were about to do.

“Karli, I resonate with your cause.” Your words took your friends by surprise. Were you really going to switch sides?

“But I don’t approve of what you did back at the depot. I thought better of you.” You expressed your stance on the matter. Karli scoffed before giving her reply. “Don’t give me that. I don’t need your approval.”

“Shedding blood is never an option for me.” You stood your ground firmly.

“Fine, I admit my mistake. If you join us, I will make sure there would not be lives cost.” Karli tried to coat her words in favour of you.

She knew that she would do whatever was necessary for her to achieve her goals and even if it were to pretend to pander to your moral values, she was willing to give it a try if it meant she could have you switch sides.

Seeing your conflicted dilemma, Karli egged on. “Is it because of him?” She nodded back to Bucky. You looked over your shoulder to see him equally You looked at her with a perplexed look before she smirked once more.

“I read up about you. You came into his defence when he was accused of a crime he didn’t commit. You revealed your powers publicly and that got you thrown into the raft. Ever since he has been pardoned, you had been with him all this time.” You didn’t know where Karli was going with this but her next sentence finally made you understood.

“This only means one thing. You like him, don’t you? He’s the one holding you back.”

“No! What are you talking about?” You spoke through gritted teeth at how she chose to play this out. How could she expose you like this? Your ears burned with embarrassment at the revelation that stunned both Sam and Bucky.

What was Karli implying exactly? Bucky looked over to see you visibly shaking in anger and he was taken aback by how Karli’s words affected you.

“Even now, I see the way you are looking at him. At how angry you are now? You mad that your secret crush is out in the open?” You looked up to see Karli’s smug face and you controlled your energy from bursting through your hands.

“Stop your bullshit. Don’t act like you know me!”

“Please, I am letting you know that he is not worth it. You would do so much better for yourself if you join our cause.” Karli retorted and you hated how she acted like she knew what was best for you when she barely knew her.

Sam always had an inkling that there could be more from your relationship with Bucky but he kept silent on the matter out of respect. He knew that it was best to leave you figuring things out on your own.

He recalled how he had caught you and Bucky in an intimate moment back in the club at Madripoor and figured you two were more than it seemed on a friendship level.

Seeing Karli use such an approach to almost taunting you in the context of persuasion didn’t sit well with him. His inner big brother wanted to come out to defend you.

Meanwhile, Bucky was appalled to learn of everything from your exchange with Karli. Was it possible that you had liked him all this while?

When he talked to you about Madripoor earlier, he remembered your pained expression when he tried to void what happened between the two of you.

Was it because you were hurt by his denial? He must have sounded like the world’s biggest jerk. If you really liked him, he would imagine you being heartbroken from what he had said.

“He is worth everything.” Your very statement made Bucky looked back up in shock. No way would he ever thought you would like him in that way. He thought you were just being the kind-hearted and empathetic person that you always are to follow a guy like him.

Quick flashbacks came to him as he realized that you had always been by his side from breaking free of HYDRA to being on the run, following the Avengers civil war, his time in Wakanda, the fight with Thanos, Steve's leaving, his pardon after the Blip and up to now.

It dawned upon Bucky that he had taken you for granted. If you were gone right now, he could only imagine that he would possibly go the deep end.

“He is the most important person in my life and you don’t get to talk about him like that when you don’t even know him.” You asserted with renewed confidence. You figured while this situation wasn't ideal, it was the moment you had to tell your truth.

Looking back, you met Bucky with a small smile.

Bucky’s heart soared at what you had just said. To be regarded as your most important person was the thing that he never knew he needed.

You knew that your words inadvertently had answered the pressing question on Bucky’s mind. Karli knew she had failed to get to you after the answer and decided to lose her shot with you.

You hear Sam picking up something on his comms, stating that it was Walker. Karli was alerted and decided to make a move first. Bucky immediately jumped off as soon as he saw Karli doing the same.

You lifted yourself off and saw Sam knocking Karli over before he turned to Bucky, telling him that he would send him the location. You didn’t have time to say anything to Bucky, he only gave you a look of understanding before you both knew that there were more pressing matters at hand.

Sam nodded to you before you did the same and you followed him as he took off.

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You sent a blast towards the glass ceiling before you and Sam landed in the building. A crash was heard next when you recognised Dovich to be the one that was crashing. You looked to see John walking into view and your mind scrambled to analyse what was going on.

Dovich went ahead to use a metal pipe against John, but John pushed back and even bent the pipe into half like a rubber hose.

“Oh shit,” Dovich uttered before John sent him flying to where you stood. As Dovich looked up at you, you eyed him to go and heard Sam speak up.

“What did you do?” John didn’t answer the question and informed that the Flag Smashers had Lemar. Growing a soft spot despite your brief interaction, your heart dropped when you realised that Lemar was in danger.

John went ahead first before Sam followed behind. You placed your hand on Sam’s arm to pause for a moment, looking at Sam anxiously.

“Sam, I think he took one of the serums.” He nodded grimly at your words, indicating that he shared the thought too.

The two of you followed John where you were all ambushed by a member of the Flag Smashers. All of you tried to fend yourselves and you soon see Bucky joining the scene.

You were met face to face with Dovich. You gave him a look that said you were reluctant but had no choice to fight him.

He took you on and you tried your best to avoid his quick moves. You shot multiple non-fatal blasts at him to knock him over. He was doing his best to keep up with the speed at which you were throwing your blasts.

In the next split second, you sent two direct blasts to his chest that knocked the wind out of his chest. The following moment, you heard a loud collision and you looked to see Lemar crashed against a stone pillar.

A loud gasp escaped your lips as you realised what had just happened. Lemar’s head fell slightly as you saw him lost consciousness. John immediately walked over to his partner and repeatedly tap him to wake him up.

You swallowed heavily as seconds passed and Lemar had no reaction. John called Lemar’s name over and over to no avail. You see John looking back his shoulder and directing his line of sight on you.

“Do something!” He cried out to you. You were at a loss for words as you didn’t know what he wanted you to do. You looked over to see Sam and Bucky equally stunned at what had occurred.

“I read your file. You brought someone back to life before!” You knew what John was referring to but you didn’t know if it could even work.

“I can’t, my powers don’t work like that-” Your powers came from your life force so you were able to transfer it to someone to regain theirs. However, you only did it once and it was because someone was dying of hypothermia. It was a different situation from Lemar’s.

“Please! I’m begging you! He’s everything to me!” John’s desperate plea touched you, knowing that he had said similar words to what you had said before about Bucky. You understood his plight and made quick steps to where he was.

Everyone looked upon the scene as you crouched down to your knees. You gave John a wary look before you brought your hands to Lemar who was lying in John’s arms.

Summoning your energy into your palms, you placed them on Lemar’s chest as if you were using a defibrillator. You pumped several sets of energy into Lemar while John patted him for a reaction.

When Lemar still showed no signs of life, the look of defeat on John’s face broke your heart. Tears start welling in your eyes as you looked at Lemar’s lifeless body. You saw Karli and her group starting to make a run for it.

Sam and Bucky made a chase for her immediately. John handed Lemar over to you before he sprinted for the window in front of you.

You could see the look of vengeance on his face and knew it didn’t bode well. You gently laid Lemar on the ground before waving your hand with your energy flames and placed it on where his heart was.

Rest in peace.

Your energy flames dissipated into his uniform and you stood up to follow behind John. You managed to catch him chasing after one of the Flag Smashers ahead of you. He was throwing his shield with brute force to knock the guy on his feet. You saw how the man was pleading for his life, claiming that he was not the one who killed Lemar.

John placed a foot to hold the man who was flailing his arms desperately. In a blink of an eye, he brought down the very shield that was used to protect people onto the man.

“NOOOOOOO!” You cried out in an attempt for John to stop his actions but it was too late.

Your eyes widened in unbelievable shock at what just transpired. When John lifted up the shield, you saw the blood that stained the legacy of the shield- Steve’s legacy.

You turned to see that a crowd was formed and people held out their phones to record what had happened. It didn’t sit well with you to know that in a matter of seconds, the whole world would also be watching this horrific scene too.

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Tag list: @tanyaherondale @spookycereal-s @cataves @archaeoheart @conflicted-noxsirius @archaeoheart @idiotinnit @anxious-stitcher @lindseyrae20 @mads-weasley

[thessalian]

Thess vs Reading Time

I keep seeing posts about “all the books I haven’t got around to reading” and “I just can’t read anymore” and I ... don’t ... get it? I mean, okay, I understand it intellectually - there are a lot of issues around reading. Focus. Time. Energy. Spoons in general. Just ... I don’t feel it in my soul the way a lot of people do. For me, it’s quite the opposite. And I feel weirdly bad about it.

I mean, I luck out in some ways - I have the commute. But even in times I didn’t, it was impossible to pry me away from a book. I have three or four on the go at any one time. I will always have a book or my Kindle with me and will read anywhere - on the bus, waiting for the bus, on break, while cooking dinner, in the bath, standing on the balcony having a cigarette (because I do not smoke inside, ever) ... literally anywhere. And if a new book has just come into my possession? Forget it - you aren’t seeing me for dust unless I have a really pressing prior engagement (and I will lament, quietly, at least once, that there is a brand new book sitting there being neglected and I will go back to that book the red-hot second I’m allowed). I don’t know what I’d do if someone took my books away. For me, Tumblr posts and the occasional bit of fanfic and old RP logs are my narrative methadone, if you get me.

I’m pretty sure it’s an ADHD thing - which is weird, because I’ve heard said that some people have troubles reading a book all the way through because of their ADHD. For me, it’s a combination of hyperfixation and understimulation - the latter requires that I have A Thing I’m Doing at all times; hyperfixation lets me literally disappear, mentally speaking, into the book. I suppose part of why books are The Thing for me in that regard is that when I was a kid and people had barely heard of ADD, never mind ADHD, books were all I really had that fed both of those ADHD-related issues. I mean, we’re talking about the 80s and early 90s in particular at this point - the internet wasn’t a thing, video games weren’t common in the home, we couldn’t afford a VCR for most of my early childhood, and most of the TV shows pointed in my general direction were half-hour sitcoms and cartoons that were effectively thinly-veiled toy commercials, and neither of those was going to really stimulate once I picked up on the narrative patterns established in those things. So since books were generally considered good ways to spend my time, didn’t involve contact with people who might bully me, and actually helped make my brain stop yammering so loud, as well as being fun ... well, I found a refuge and I clung to it and I still cling to it today.

I guess I just wish I could give half the focus I can put into a book to those around me who lament their own lack of it. Or ... okay, that I could lend it out, like, ironically, a library book. It would stop me from whingeing at my gaming group whenever a new Seanan McGuire book comes out. Because I can and in fact have whinged at them on numerous occasions when new book had to be interrupted for D&D, even when the whinge was, “I’ve only read it twice and haven’t committed it to memory yet!”

Yeah, did I mention I also have the benefit of reading really really fast and it’s a little easier to come by the time to read when you can finish a chapter or two in the five minutes it takes the bus to show up? If y’all want to murder me in a fit of jealous rage, I promise I get it.

[seymour-butz-stuff]

Federal authorities arrested a husband and wife in Bristol, Va., on Monday in connection with the Jan. 6th siege on the U.S. Capitol Building. Documents related to their cases were unsealed in federal court on Thursday.

Authorities say tips from the public led them to Joshua Bustle and Jessica Bustle. The couple is accused of entering the U.S. Capitol and posting about it on Facebook. Jessica Bustle’s multiple online accounts provided much of the evidence prosecutors used to compile a case against her, federal court documents indicate.

“Pence is a traitor,” one of Jessica’s posts read. “We stormed the capital. An unarmed peaceful woman down the hall from us was shot in neck by cops. It’’s insane here. We’re safe and heading home but have limited service.””

Another lengthy post read (in part) as follows:

“The amount of misinformation I’’m seeing is insane. Despite what you’’re being fed, the rally was nothing like what the media is portraying. My husband and I spent the majority of our time at the Health Freedom Rally which was a couple of blocks over from the Trump Rally. When we finally decided to head over to the capitol we were let in . . . like literally, my husband and I just WALKED right in with tons of other people.” The cops were nice . . . we were talking with them INSIDE of the capitol about not taking the CV tax and they agreed with us. There were no guns, weapons, and no violence. In fact, when we finally decided to go in after about 45min of it being wide open . . . there was a wooden podium UNTOUCHED just sitting there in the middle of trump supporters supposedly causing so much damage and mayhem. Yes, some Trump supporters were supposedly unruly . . . pushed past police to take selfies in congress seats.

What followed that was a bit of sarcasm and a claim that “ANTIFA puppets infiltrated the rally,” a claim that “Trump supporters are loving, patriot and peaceful people,” and that the mainstream media was full of “lies.”

As prosecutors have pointed out in case after case, the U.S. Capitol was officially closed to business Jan. 6 as Congress set to work counting electoral votes in favor of Joe Biden.

A Statement of Facts filed in federal court says Jessica Bustle had two Facebook profiles. Some of her messages were edited after they were originally posted, authorities stated.

An FBI Special Agent reviewed captiol surveillance video. It showed the Bustles entering the building wearing what is believed to be the same clothing they were wearing in Facebook posts that day. The video shows the woman authorities believe to be Jessica was carrying the same anti-vaccine poster seen in Facebook photos on Jessica’s Facebook account. The sign reads as follows: ““MANDATORY MEDICAL PROCEDURES have NO Place in a FREE Society”.” 

I wonder how much of a lion they’ll be in prison. All I see are a couple sheep being willingly led to the slaughter.

Data transmitted by the couple’s electronic devices also placed them at the U.S. Capitol on Jan. 6. Federal prosecutors did not cite all of the messages reviewed by Law&Crime in charging documents against the husband or the wife.

Jessica Bustle’s primary Facebook profile was still active as of Thursday. In the profile reviewed by Law&Crime, Jessica described herself as a “wife” and a “mama” who appeared to state a preference for homeschooling her young children. She described herself as a “Truth Seeker” who liked the Bible passage Philippians 4:13. She shared several memes which described people who took vaccines as “lab rat[s]” and otherwise suggested that children should “never” be injected with vaccines.

“Will vaccinated people be able to give blood?” one post questioned. “If so, will those receiving the blood be made aware?”

Another showed a caricature of of Bill Gates and Dr. Anthony Fauci sitting on top of a giant needle. “Depopulation here we come” said the caption.

Yet another likened a COVID-19 vaccine card to a yellow Star of David similar to those the Nazis required Jews to wear during the World War II era. “This badge will allow you to go back to work, travel, buy, sell, and trade,” the meme erroneously claimed. “And it will cost you your soul.”

Other memes on her page chastised people who wore facemasks during the pandemic and said “millions of loving people” should get “together to overthrow the ruling class.”

She also shared a meme which questioned why “80 year old children’s books” were “being cancelled” while Cardi B’s song WAP was considered acceptable.

“You can have a bachelor degree and still be an idiot,” one post said.

“Masculinity isn’t toxic. The absence of it is,” read yet another. “Weak men are abusive and spiteful. Strong, masculine men are protective and loving.”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m not seeing posts about how great Biden is doing,” said another image.

Her occupation is described as a “Homemaker at The Bustle Household in Manassas, Virginia.”

“I’ll be proud to say that I did not stay silent,” she wrote on Oct. 26, 2020. “I was on the right side of history, battling alongside some amazing freedom warriors as we fought like hell to get the TRUTH out and wake people up to the twisted agendas, lies and corruption. I’ll be proud to say I fought for every child’s life and right to live FREE and without fear.”

Other memes and posts shared images of ex-President Donald Trump and wished he would remain in the White House. One suggested on Nov. 11, 2020, that Joe Biden was trying to scrounge up write-in ballots to help solidify his win.

“The level of corruption going on in our government is unfathomable,” Jessica wrote on Nov. 14, 2020. “But, God is moving in this mess and exposing the hidden systems that have been in the shadows for far too long.”

“See y’all at the rally,” she concluded. In an attached image, Jessica wore a Trump shirt and hat, while Joshua wore a black “don’t tread on me” shirt. What followed were images posted on Nov. 17th of Trump supporters outside the U.S. Capitol and the U.S. Supreme Court building.

Several images were from the Jan. 6th events at the Capitol Complex.

“I refuse to fall for the hate and divide,” one post said. “Yesterday was monumental. I got to hang with so many amazing freedom keepers and my favorite dude [emoji] and he proudly proclaimed that WE’RE winning this war on medical freedom. [emojis] Our movement has grown to over 50% of people!!!! Y’all, that’s HUGE. So many people waking up and refusing to be injected with known toxins and poisons. [emojis]”

“Excited to stand for truth with my fellow patriots in DC today,” read a caption on another photo posted Jan. 6.

Another post questioned the authenticity of NASA’s moon landing.

The Bustles each face four counts: (1) knowingly entering of remaining in any restricted building or grounds without lawful authority; (2) knowingly engaging in disorderly or disruptive conduct in restricted buildings or grounds; (3) violent entry and disorderly conduct on Capitol grounds; and (4) parading, demonstrating, or picketing on Capitol grounds.

[godofplumsandthunder]

Our First I Do

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Warning: None, if you feel something needs a tag please DM me

A/N: EEEP! It’s done! The final chapter and post 1 of 2 for today’s Week of love! I’ve loved our two idiots journey and Peter learning all about his guncles. I hope you love this chapter as much as I did while writing it! Hope y’all had a fun and safe Valentine’s day!

For the first time, Peter is absolutely silent. No quick comments or funny quips. He’s dead silent as he just stares at his hands. He wanted angst, and he got it. The constant and persistent fear that Bucky and Steve experienced in the ‘30s is as big a part of their love story, as the dates and romantic moments. And sometimes, even Steve and Bucky forget those parts too. It’s easy living in a time where they can be together to forget how bad things really were back then. That the past tends to be romanticized. Still, they didn’t expect Peter to just… turn off.

Letting go of Bucky, Steve scooches over closer to Peter.

“Hey, Petey, you doing okay?”

Peter nods, still looking down, “yeah, I just… Like I’m with MJ right now, but I do have feelings and crushes about some of the guys in my grade. And well, if I was born at the wrong time, I’d have to hide that part of me! I- how did you do it? I wouldn’t have been able to do it. Hide myself and always have to be acting… I…”

Steve pulls Peter into a hug, “Oh Peter. First, I didn’t know that about you. That you’re bisexual, right?” Peter nods, as Steve smiles, “well, thank you for telling us that Pete. And we’re here for you if you need anything. I don’t have that much experience with gals, but Bucky here is bisexual too. We’re here for you Peter. And while we still have lots to do, you can be out and proud Peter. If you want to marry a man you can.”

Pulling Bucky closer to Steve, he smiles at Peter, “in fact, I think that’s what we’re going to end on, Peter. Bucky and mine first Valentine’s day together, which just so happens to be our anniversary.”

Peter looks up, “You got married on Valentine’s Day?!”

“Yeah, and it’s quite the tale too.”

----- For the first time in over 70 years, Steve was finally back home, with the love of his life. Thankfully, after the initial shock of finding out the truth behind the deaths of Howard and Maria Stark, Tony calmed down a bit. He was angry, rightfully so, but Steve was able to talk some sense into him. That Bucky wasn’t at fault. That Tony should be mad at Hydra. They were the real ones behind his parents' death. Tony left them, wanting to go after the remnants of Hydra, though he promised he’d try to sort out the Accords and let Bucky and Steve come back to the States, for the meantime they decided to take T’Challa on his offer to stay in Wakanda.

Steve didn’t think that he’d enjoy living in Wakanda. Mainly due to the fact that for him, home was Bucky and Brooklyn. They only left for the war. Their loved ones were buried there and that’s where he wants to spend the rest of his life with Bucky, in peace. But as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into months, he realized it didn’t matter where they lived. Bucky was thriving here in Wakanda. Shuri was able to deprogram the triggers and even made him a new arm. For the first in 70 years, he was free from Hydra. And not only was he free, but he was also thriving. Bucky took up farming, he had a successful and thriving trip of goats. Steve made the mistake of calling Bucky’s precious trip, a herd of goats, and well… Steve never wants to get lectured about goat etymology ever again. But most importantly, they were happy and together. Something that they didn’t have for such a long time. And this domesticity got Steve’s brain going. Valentine’s day was coming up, and well, he wanted to make it special. After everything they’ve been through, Steve wants to make Bucky an honest man, and make him his husband.

That morning of Valentine’s day, Steve had everything set up. A simple altar where T’Challa would officiate the ceremony. It’d be just the four of them, Steve, Bucky, Winnie, and Sarah. Even though it’d been a while since he stepped foot into a chapel, Steve knew that their mothers wouldn’t miss this day. The day where they finally saw their boys get their happy ever after. On Bucky’s end, today was just like any other day. His goats needed to be fed and moved, and then he’d relax with Steve, watching another Disney film. Because apparently, that was the first thing Steve wanted Bucky to catch up on.

Steve takes a big breath as he sits down next to Bucky for breakfast.

“Hey, Buck?”

“Yeah Stevie? What’s up?”

“Well, you know how we talked about how we’d eventually get married. Well, I thought, and we don’t have to, but today’s Valentine’s day and well I have it all set up. Would you marry me tonight?”

Bucky takes a bite of his eggs as he shrugs, “sounds good to me. I just have to feed the goats first.”

“Okay then. I’ll… uh see you around 7 then?”

Bucky nods as he goes back to reading the “Wakandan Times”. Which, okay, this wasn’t how Steve was picturing any of this. Just so nonchalant with getting married. But, it didn’t matter, right,  he tried to tell himself. What mattered most was that they were together. A piece of paper didn’t change anything.

Steve went about his day and finally came back to their hut, a quarter to seven to find that Bucky was nowhere to be found. In his place was a note.

“T’Challa told me where the altar’s at. Meet you there, punk.”  Well, that’s surprising, Steve thought as he changed into his suit. They both had a suit, but Steve didn’t know if Bucky was going to wear his. He was risking being overdressed, but Steve wanted this day to be special, even if it was only special to him.

Getting out of the car T’Challa and his family lent him, Steve was overwhelmed when he saw Bucky standing at the altar, talking with T’Challa. His hair was up in a high bun, and he was wearing the gray suit that brought out the stormy blue in his eyes. It looked damn good on him. Walking up the altar, Steve tried to hold back his tears. This was everything he ever wanted.

“Finally, punk. I thought you did a runner on me,” Bucky chuckles as Steve stands next to him, holding onto his vibranium arm.

“I know you wanted to say a few words Captain Rogers, but Sergeant Barnes asked me to let him go first,” T’Challa smiles as he nods to Bucky.

“The first time I saw you, Stevie, in the churchyard of Father O’Malley’s chapel, I knew I loved you. That small, spitfire, mouthy punk. As we got older that love got stronger. You know the one thing that I thought, felt, as I fell from that train? Was that we’d never get to grow old together. Yet, here we are. Well, ¾ of me is here. And, I sure as hell wouldn’t want to relive anything I’ve been through, but it was worth it. Cause now I’m yours, punk. Forever.” Bucky tears up as he holds Steve’s hand.

“Buck,” Steve chokes, “the only thought I had when the Valkyrie was sinking was how we’d finally be back together. But you’re right. We’re here now, and that's what matters. You’re the only one I’ve loved, Buck. We’re together, till the end of the line.” T’Challa smiles as Steve wipes the tears out of his eyes.

“Not to keep either of you waiting, do you, Steven Grant Rogers take James Buchanan Barnes as your lawful husband?”

“I do.”

“And do you James Buchan Barnes, take Steven Grant Rogers as your lawful husband?”

“I do.”

“With the powers vested in me, by, well me, I pronounce you husband and husband. You can now kiss your husband,”

----- “Uncle Steve!” Peter blows his nose on a tissue he found somewhere. “That’s so beautiful!” Peter sniffles.

“Great, punk, I think you broke Spidey,” Bucky deadpans as Peter shakes his head.

“It’s just so beautiful. Knowing that you two got your happy ending. After everything, you went through. And thanks for telling me. I know I’m going to get an A on this.”

Steve chuckles as he cuddles next to Bucky. “You’re welcome, Petey. Glad we could be of help.” Running off, Peter leaves Steve and Bucky alone.

“God, that kid has so much energy,” Steve chuckles as Bucky nudges him.

“Yeah, reminds me of some little punk from Brooklyn. But you know what? I’m glad he was nosey. It was nice going down memory lane with you, punk.”

“It was, wasn’t it?” Steve leans in to Bucky, content with the peace they both have. No more fighting or running, only love.

[lunetheaveragefan]

one day...

Hey, y’all! Finally, here’s chapter 4! Gosh, this has taken me so long! I’m so so so sorry. In other news, I will be going on a hiatus so I can build up some buffer chapters to prevent this from happening again. I’ll post updates on when I’ll be back, but I’m currently thinking it will be sometime around New Year’s or early January. Again, thank you all for reading! It means a lot to me!

A Sander Sides high school AU

Pairing: Prinxiety and some background Logicality

Summary: Virgil is used to being alone. He only has one friend, Logan. But when Logan makes a new friend, things begin to change as two more join their group. Roman, a boisterous theater kid, seems determined to destroy Virgil’s lonely, average life. How much will Virgil’s life change?

Warnings: Remus and Janus mentions; mentions of homophobia and bullying; references of name-calling; swearing. (If there’s anything else, let me know!)

Word Count: 2,660

okay, here’s chapter 4! (Oh, and the bold words/sentences are text messages by the way.)

--------------------------------------------------------

CHAPTER FOUR

Roman shuts the door to his car and walks inside the house. 

“I’m home!” he cries out. Feet thud on the stairs from the basement as Roman hangs his jacket on the hooks by the door. 

“Roman!” a manically shrill voice screams. Sliding across the hardwood floors around the corner comes Remus, Roman’s twin brother. Remus was a…special case. For reasons unknown, he was avidly interested in all things dark or cruel. A horrendously dirty mind and not a drop of innocence accompanied by a twisted love of morbid stories and people made Remus slightly demented, and Remus himself would be the first one to admit it. It was no wonder their parents gave up on him entirely. 

The only person who could keep Remus remotely in line was his boyfriend, Janus. Granted, Janus wasn’t the best example of a model kid, but he kept Remus from being too crazy. Roman liked Janus a decent amount and admired him for being able to put up with Remus at all, but there was something slightly off about him. The two only interacted when they needed too, and Roman was fine with that. 

“Hey, Remus,” Roman greets. “How are ya?” He feels the need to talk to his brother, show him support, since Remus doesn’t get any from their parents. Although being ignored doesn’t seem to bother Remus much, Roman tries to make an effort. 

“Fantastically fantastic!” He twirls in a circle, the tattered ends of his black trench coat flying out behind him. Roman chuckles at his brother’s antics. If only I were that free, he thinks. Before his smile can fade, Roman pastes it back on.

Before either boy can say anything else, Janus walks up the stairs and, without a single questioning glance, takes Remus by the arm. 

He must think Roman’s strained smile is due to annoyance because he says, “C’mon, Remus. Let’s go back downstairs and stop bothering your poor brother.” Remus giggles and follows Janus back downstairs, leaving Roman alone. The door shuts and the house goes quiet. 

Sighing and finally dropping the fake smile, Roman trudges to his room. He doesn’t mind that Remus gets the entire basement to himself. If they shared so much as a floor of the house, they would probably never stop arguing. Sure, they loved each other, Remus in his own backward way, but that didn’t mean they got along perfectly. 

Flopping down on his bed, Roman opens his phone to see a text from Patton. 

Sooooo are you happy you came? it reads.

Okay, okay, fine, yes, I’m glad I came, Roman responds. He bites his lip in nervousness before saying, Do you, by chance, have Virgil’s number? I would like to thank him again for helping me.

Patton’s reply is teasing, cheeky, just like a nosy father’s: Are you sure that’s the only reason you want it?

Roman chuckles before rolling his eyes at Patton's antics. Ignoring the question entirely, Roman asks, Do you have it or not?

Sadly, no, I do not. I’m afraid I cannot help your romantic pursuits this time.

Sending Patton the crying-face emoji, Roman rolls over to his back and stares at the ceiling. Maybe Virgil will talk to me tomorrow. It’s a foolish hope, and he knows that. Virgil doesn’t like Roman, and one day of studying together won’t change that. 

It’s smart to keep my feelings to myself. He hates me, and I can’t change that. It’s better to admire from afar. That’s the reason for his hesitation, or at least what Roman has convinced himself to believe. Although he’d never admit it, here’s something much deeper. Something he doesn't want to talk about. A fear he’s kept well hidden under his fake, perfect smiles that everyone buys into and the shameless flirting with every attractive person he sees and his bold, fearless stage presence year after year.

A buzz from the phone in his hand jars him out of his stupor. It’s a text from Patton.

I do have Logan’s, if you want to ask him. The text that follows contains a phone number. He hurriedly responds with a ‘thanks’ and copies the number. After making a new contact for Logan, he opens Messages again. The text should only take a few seconds to send, but Roman types his question in a million different ways, varying from borderline desperate to overly professional. Finally, he decides on the most simple one of all.

Hey, it’s Roman. Do you have Virgil’s number by chance? No explanation, no obvious signs of his crush. Straight and to the point. Even though Roman knows it’s the best way to phrase it, he still can’t make himself press send.

What if Logan figures it out? He’s the smartest kid in school, after all. What if he does have it and I text Virgil and he blocks me? What if Logan tells Virgil and they make fun of me? What if it’s a wrong number and the random person makes fun of me for my crush? 

“Dammit, Roman, get yourself together,” he mumbles, leaning his head back.

Fed up with his overthinking, Roman hovers his finger above the send button, closes his eyes, and presses down on the screen. Opening his eyes a sliver to make sure it sent, he shuts his phone off and throws it in the corner on a pile of clothes. He knows that if he keeps it next to him, he’ll obsessively check it every five seconds to see if there’s a reply. There’s homework he needs to do, for fuck’s sake.

Pulling his laptop out of his bag and opening his presentation for history, he gets to work. After a while, he forgets completely about the text. Googling the answers and finding pictures and reliable sites to use fills his thoughts, for once leaving no room for Virgil. At 11:30, once he’s done, assignment turned in with 29 minutes to spare, he grabs his phone and turns it on. 

There’s a text from Logan. 

Yes, I do have Virgil’s contact information. A string of numbers follow. His phone number. Roman’s heart flutters at the thought of being able to text Virgil.

Thanks, Roman responds. After making the second new contact of the night, making Virgil’s name just the heart-eyes emoji, he starts the agonizing process of figuring out what to say. 

“Should I just say ‘hi?’” Roman mumbles to himself, biting at his lip. “No, no, no. Then he won’t know who it is and he won’t respond. I could say ‘hi’ and who I am and then ask how he’s doing.” He nods and begins to type it in before deleting it and saying, “No! He’ll think I’m being weird! Roman, remember: he hates you. You can’t screw this up!” He groans in frustration and drops his head to his hands. “Wait, my excuse to Patton was that I wanted to say thanks again! I’ll just use that!” He types in, Hey! This is Roman. Thanks again for helping me with math today. 

“Okay, that looks good. Now, Roman, you just have to press send. It’s not that hard. Just do it.” He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Do I really want to do this? It’s just setting myself up for rejection. Yet when he pictures Virgil in his mind, purple hair falling across his face, freckles dotting his cheeks, he knows that it’s worth the risk. Taking one last deep breath, he opens his eyes.  

“Oh, shit!” he yells, throwing his phone across the room. Somehow, he’d accidentally sent the message while his eyes were closed. Curse my shaky hands. He meant to send it anyway, but still. Was not expecting it to happen so abruptly. Hands fly up to cover his mouth as he stares at the wall in shock. Roman’s mom comes in, looking concerned.

“Is everything alright, honey?” she asks, jarring Roman out of his distress. He blinks, shakes his head, and smiles crookedly. Quick, Roman, come up with an excuse! 

“Uh, I accidentally sent a text to the wrong person,” he half-lies. Please buy it. Please. Luckily, his mom chuckles.

“Okay, sweetie. Get to bed! Don’t want you to do bad in class and play, now do we?” She smiles warmly and shuts the door behind her as she leaves. 

Face falling, Roman murmurs, “Yup. Can’t have Golden Boy failing anything. What a tragedy that would be, for me to be less than perfect.” He laughs dryly and stands up to get ready for bed. He eyes his phone as he passes it on his way to his dresser, but resists the overwhelming urge to check it. Virgil’s probably asleep at this time, anyway. 

But Roman still can’t get him off his mind. 

------------------

Roman wakes up to the blaring of his alarm. It’s too early for this, he thinks, rolling over and smashing the snooze button. He’s just drifted back off to sleep when the alarm turns back on. Knowing he’ll be late if he snoozes it again, he shoves himself out of bed. 

After his shower, he picks up his phone, checking his messages. Scrolling past the notifications the play director sent out about practice, he looks for anything of interest. He’s already passed the message when his brain processes the sender.

He wasn’t hallucinating; there is a text from Virgil. Roman’s face breaks out in a smile and he sits down on the edge of his bed before falling backwards.

it was no problem, Virgil had texted last night. Another text comes in as Roman is reading the one from before.

hey if you wanted to you could come to the cafe again next week. The invitation brings a lightness to his heart. Maybe he doesn't really hate me, he thinks, goofily smiling at the ceiling.  Although the idea is uplifting, he tries to shove it down, but the hopeless romantic inside of him won’t listen. Or at least not as much as I thought he did, he compromises. p.s. logan says it’s okay too. i expected him too since he has a big fat crush on patton and you would most likely bring patton with you or patton would bring you

Roman’s jaw drops at the news. Did not see that coming. It only takes a few seconds for Virgil to say, oh shit i probably wasn’t supposed to tell you that. He’s responding when another text pops up.

i never said anything okay? 

Roman chuckles and types back, Got it, Mr... Ah dammit I can’t think of a funny nickname for you bc I’m so tired. You got anything? 

There’s an awkward moment of nothing when Virgil doesn’t reply. Roman knows that Virgil’s read it; the little words underneath the message say so. Did I say something wrong? Oh, no, he probably thinks I wanted a nickname to make fun of him! He facepalms at his stupidness. Wanting to make things right, Roman frantically tried to come up with what to say, but nothing sounds right. Before he can say anything, Virgil finally replies. 

idk i’m not a big fan of nicknames 

Remembering all those days when Roman used nicknames for the wrong reason, he winces. I was such a dumbass in middle school. 

Oh right. Feeling like he has to say something more, Roman gathers all his courage. 

Look I’m sorry about how shitty I was to you in middle school. It’s no excuse but I did it cause I was going through some stuff at home. Course that doesn’t make it right but I figured you’d like to know where I was coming from, he explains. Heart racing, he wonders what Virgil will say. He’s never admitted the reason behind his terrible behavior in middle school to anyone but Patton. Trouble had no place in his life. Everyone expected perfection, so that’s what he had to show. 

Lost in his thoughts, Roman didn’t notice Virgil’s reply at first. 

oh was all it said. A moment later, another text appeared. are things better? Roman wants to say no, tell him about the pressure, the expectations, the disappointment. There’s something about Virgil that feels trustworthy to Roman. He wants to tell him everything, but he knows he can’t. Because of those expectations. He’s Roman Princeford, popular, theatre prodigy, the king-of-the-school. 

So instead, Roman answers with a half-truth, like always. Yeah I guess so. My dad’s no longer a homophobic piece of shit and has mostly come to terms with the fact I’m gay

That problem was the only one people knew about. That problem was resolved. Besides, Roman liked having it out in the open. This way, he got younger kids, freshmen, sophomores, even some juniors or sometimes middle schoolers coming up to him, telling him that they looked up to him. Telling him that it was so cool that he came out. No one could relate to a perfect person. That story was Roman’s flaw, the chip in his armor that showed everyone that he could have problems too. 

ah that must’ve sucked 

Shoving his mind out of places he would rather not go, Roman texts back, Yeah kinda 

There’s a few minutes of silence. Not wanting the conversation to end, Roman asks, How were people’s reactions to your coming out? When Virgil had come out, it wasn’t the talk of the school like when Roman did. In fact, he didn’t even know about it until a week after when Patton told him. 

well my mom was completely accepting and was the first one i told, actually. my parents are divorced so i still haven’t told my dad. he’s uber religious so idk how that’s going to go down. my extended family on my mom’s side all know and there are a few cousins on my dad’s side that i’ve sworn to secrecy. Roman had met some religious fanatics who insisted on telling him all the reasons he was going to Hell. Those conversations were never fun. He winces on behalf of Virgil and how that conversation with his dad might go down.

God, being gay is fabulous and all, but sometimes it really is annoying, Roman muses. He sighs; at that moment he was so done with all the problems he and others had to face on a daily basis for simply existing.

i guess so, Virgil responds. Roman can almost feel the thick indifference through the phone screen. Being completely dead to the world was something Roman would never understand. Just watching things happen seems so impossible to him. He’s always had a great amount of passion, sometimes to the point where he would do anything to stand up for what he believed in.

But he’d also learned when and how to shut up, a skill that had taken a long time to master. This is one of those times. As much as Roman would like to convince Virgil that he couldn’t just stand by and accept the homophobia, he didn’t think that would make Virgil like him any more.

Needing to say it once more before the conversation ends, Roman says, I am really sorry for middle school. It wasn’t until late eighth grade that Roman realized how much of an impact his words could have on someone. A day doesn’t go by where he doesn’t regret it. If only I could take all those years back, he wishes. This wasn’t the first time he’d thought that.

yeah, yeah, i get it, princey. The annoyance the text conveys wasn’t angry, like Roman would’ve assumed. It feels almost friendly, which makes Roman very hopeful. Maybe Virgil could grow to like Roman after all. Maybe his foolish dreams and feelings aren’t entirely foolish. 

you’re forgiven

Yes, maybe the path Roman thought his crush would lead him on isn’t as full of pain and heartbreak as he had previously believed. It’s possible that, maybe, if Roman is lucky, it could result in something quite wonderful.

[teenyfish]

Marine Biology Story of the Day #10

Hello all.  This post was kinda delayed because I spent all day cleaning out my pool (it’s an above ground pool—my COVID 19 impulse purchase) because a hurricane came through and it’s full of dead insects and leaves among other things.  The joys of living right on the coast 😊

Thanks for all of your interest and support on my shrimp research—it’s nice to know that people are interested in the little guys too.  So today, we are going to talk about how all of my interest in tiny fish got started—my master’s program and my thesis.  

SOoooo…originally I wasn’t planning on getting my masters because it sounded like a lot of work but then I changed my mind last minute when I started looking at job applications and saw that for many of them, you needed a masters—so I ended up becoming a master’s student at the same University that I did my undergrad at—called Christopher Newport University.  It’s a teeny public school in Virginia near the Chesapeake Bay. And the reason I chose to do this is because I would be working under Dr. Jessica Thompson, who in hindsight, was probably the best advisor I could have had.

Dr. Thompson is a wonderful human being with many beautiful tattoos, and can definitely drink me under the table, and raises chickens in the middle of a city, but she is also pure and wholly supportive—something that I really needed during that period of my life.  She also exclusively studied a wonderful teeny tiny fish:  Fundulus heteroclitus, or the Mummichog.

(The males are the ones with the stripes and bright shiny scales and the female is the drabber one)

Her research focuses on this little fish because it is one of the hardiest fish on the east coast.  It primarily lives in shallow water salt marsh habitats (intertidal marshes). These shallow water habitats often have very extreme temperature and salinity changes, as shallow water heats and cools up much faster than deep water.  So they can survive in a wide range of temperatures, salinities, and dissolved oxygen conditions—I call them the cockroaches of the sea (except they are much cuter).  They are also a very important food resources for a TON of marine and coastal predators.

They were also the first fish in space—and they were used in spatial orientation studies.  You see, in space, animals and plants can lose all sense of up and down because there is no gravity—however in a few days, this fish were able to figure out their spatial orientation (possibly due to orienting to the overhead light source?). Anyway, they are incredible little babies.

(NASA scientist John Boyd choosing the first two fish (and fish eggs) to leave planet earth)

Because they can move into the very shallow intertidal marsh area (the part where the grasses grow) they can avoid predators during high tide, and this area of the marsh is chock full of food for them, mostly in the form of small zooplankton and worms that live in the mud.  But during low tide, this part of the habitat dries up, and they are forced out into the deeper subtidal creeks of the marsh, where they get to be in cooler water, but they are at the mercy of predators, and there is less food.

(everything in the open water is subtidal, everything between tidal flat and low marsh is intertidal)

My aspect of this research involved looking at behavior choices made by these guys when presented with “intertidal marsh” habitat filled with food and marsh grass (their preferred habitat), however we cranked the temperature up to 34-40 oC (93—104 oF), OR a empty “subtidal creek” habitat with no food or structure, but at their optimum temperature for growth at 26 oC (79 oF). 34-40 oC is an EXTREMELY high temperature for fish to be able to function at—most fish begin shutting down their metabolism at these temperatures (aka dying).  But supposedly, Mummichog can deal with these temps.  There thermal maxima (upper temperature at which they can function) is reported to be 42 oC.

So I had to construct an experimental tank.  

These were some of the first iterations of the tank—we had to do a lot of practice runs before we got the design just right.  The concept is the same—we used this corrugated plastic (the same you use to make those political signs ppl stick in their front yard) to form two sections, one for warm, one for cold, and a box in the middle that we would remove a door and allow for the fish to swim out.  Once the fish chose a side (remained on a side for more than 10 seconds) we would close them off from the rest of the tank—they made a “choice”. In later iterations of the design, we covered the tank in more of the plastic to hide them from us (so they wouldn’t show fear behaviors) and put in fake salt marsh grass on the warm side to mimic an intertidal marsh habitat.  Fish were also fed pieces of cut up shrimp on the warm side.   We ran 3 trials at increasing temperatures for each run, and during each trial, the fish were run through the tank simulation once a day for three weeks.  

In order to get fish for this study, we had to catch wild fish. To catch them, we set minnow traps in the small channels leading into the intertidal marsh at low tide, and as the tide came in, and fish funneled into these channels, they became trapped in our minnow traps.

(examples of minnow traps, and our collection site in Norfolk) 

Problem was, in order to get out to these sites, we had to slog through some serious mud.  I’m talking about sink up to your thigh levels of mud y’all (and this really bothered me, I’m super claustrophobic).  So in order not to get trapped in the mud, we had to wear mudders, which are a little bit like snowshoes (in concept?) but also not like snowshoes at all.  They were like boxes you strapped onto your feet with plastic sticking out on the side which was meant to make your footprint bigger (and therefore give you more support on the mud).  They worked pretty well but they always gave me major bruises on my ankles as the plastic pressed up and into my ankles.  I had to buy some foam padding to wrap around my ankles it was so bad.

Once we got our sweet little babies, I would tag each of them individualy so I could keep track of individual fish.  I did this with a combination of Visible Implant Alpha Tags, which are florescent and have individual numbers on them, or Visible Implant Elastomer Tag, which are made of a non-toxic elastomer “paint” and come in 9 colors, so you can create an individual code for each individual by combining 2 colors. These tags are injected under the skin so that they are still visible (fish skin is pretty transparent) but are not very deep in the muscle tissue. These are really great tags to use on really small fish. We used MS-Tricane to anesthetize the fish and inject them, so basically I’ve done fish surgery. You can check out these tags at Northwest Marine Technology—I still use them now!  I’m using them on a current project.  

(left, a VI Alpha Tag on a trout, right, two different colors of VI elastomer tags on a flounder) 

And our fish did really well after tagging—we had no tagging mortalities!

Once we ran these fish through all three trials, it was time to analyze data. We calculated the fish’s dominant “choice” by calculating the proportion of days during the trial they chose the “warm side”—if their proportion was 90%, they had a high affinity for choosing the warm side, 30% they had a low affinity for choosing the warm side and instead more often chose the cool side for example.  Then we put this data into environmental models to see if temperature influenced their choices.

And the result?

You read it here first folks.  These little fish decided to swim into upwards of 104 o C water regularly to get food—they were so food motivated—and most fish chose the warm side over the cool side most often during every trial.  However there was a decent amount of variation—there was a contingent of fish that went into the cool side more often as temperature rose, and would forgo eating for comfort, but overall, the fish chose the warm side.  This shows that these fish may be able to adapt quickly as temperatures rise—and those that choose to move into warmer, shallower waters to access food will more likely survive to reproduce (since they choose to be in regions with less predators and more food).  This means they are more likely to pass on their warm water acclimating genes to their offspring, continuing their species ability to deal with extreme temperatures on to the next generations.  

My thesis defense obviously went well, and I got my masters, but I’ve kept my interest for the smaller fish and invertebrate species because they form one of the base levels of our ocean ecosystems and serve as a very important food resource to larger predators.  I’d like to credit Dr. Thompson for giving me this interested and giving me the appreciation for these little and underappreciated animals.  She and I have kept in touch—she was actually at my wedding last May, and when my dad got in a major accident (four days before I was supposed to defend my thesis) she came to the hospital and helped me through it, and also helped me push back my defense one semester so I could recuperate from the trauma a little.  I am extremely grateful for her tutelage, and I’m grateful for these sweet little babies.

Thanks for reading, and as always, if you have any questions about the field work or the research, PLEASE do not hesitate to ask or comment.

[cofffeeekinks]

Katsune no Hanayome Ch. 5

Normally, y’all gotta wait till Friday, but today is labor day so you get a bonus chapter and I’ll post again on Friday as usual. 

This is a commission multi-chapter fic, for @eggyboi13, who has been so patient with me in regards to how long I’ve been taking to get this out. I’m hoping to get a new chapter out every Friday.

AO3

If you want to show me your support, consider asking for a commission (only for art though) or leaving a tip in my ko-fi.

Katsune no Hanayome Chapter 4

Rated: Mature (18+)

Trans!Bakugou Trans!Todoroki Trans!Kirishima

Later chapters will contain things such as: s e x , lots of it. Heavily pregnant s e x.

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4]

The trio, now in the middle of their month long pregnancy, often helped with clients when they could. Izuku’s clan often supplied potions for many of the different yokai in the spirit world and so they had many customers. They didn’t have to work, and Izuku actually advised against it. He didn’t want them to over do it and hurt themselves or their babies. However, all three boys couldn’t just sit around and eat all day, they had to do something and that meant help around the shop.

Most of the time yokai would ask for some sort of healing potion, or a good luck potion. A few have even asked for a sex potion, that of course would only work with willing partners. The yokai were friendly to the trio, congratulating them on their pregnancy and wishing them luck. After seeing many yokai throughout the day, they never expected to see anyone they recognized. And yet, here they were. They were staring at Iida and Shinsou at the other side of the counter.

But they were different, or at least Shinsou was.

Shinsou had a cute pair of cat ears perking from atop his head and a tail that wiggled about. He was also heavily pregnant, and from the looks of it he would probably be bedridden soon.

“Wh-what are you three doing here?” Iida asked, his voice shaken with surprise.

The three glanced at each other, unsure what to say but as usual Katsuki was the one to speak up first, “We got knocked up by a sexy fox so I guess we live here now, and from the looks of it, you kinda did the same?”

“Sort of.” Iida looked over at Shinsou.

Shinsou rolled his eyes, “Listen, just because I hung out with you all doesn’t mean I was a human.” he began to explain, “I was young, saw this handsome human and I knew I’d have to work to spirit him away.”

“Hey, that’s kinda cute.” Eijirou said with a smile, “Oh, maybe our babies will be friends?”

“Agreed.” Iida nodded.

“So, are you two here for some potion or something?” Shoto asked, getting impatient with the chit chat,  “Like, why are you here?”

“Oh yes!” Iida answered, “We’d like some pain killers, for when he goes into labor.”

And with that awkward interaction, Iida and Shinsou departed.

--

Eventually though, as the days passed, it wouldn’t be so easy to move around and work at the front of the store. Katsuki was the first to drop from that position. Him being pregnant with a group of six kits, he quickly began to out grow robes of the largest size. Of course, it didn’t help that he was always being fed. And not just him, of course, Eijirou and Shoto were just about always stuffed with food as well. They had each gained at least 100 pounds in the course of their time pregnant, Katsuki a little more though. Katsuki was so fed up with nothing fitting, he opted to walk around naked. Why the hell not? He was pregnant and moody and nothing fit so he might as well just have this. It was a shock to the servants and when they asked, politely, “Please, why don’t you put some clothes on?”

Katsuki would respond with, “Fuck off.” or something similar.

Then, if Izuku caught him out and about without any clothes on, he’d whisk him away into another room and the two would bang each other for hours. But as fun as walking around in the nude is, Katsuki eventually became too big to move and was bedredden.

About four days into his bedrest, one of them who would no longer have to carry that giant belly around. The first one to go into labor was not Katsuki but rather a certain red haired gentleman who was carrying triplets. It was a surprise to the servants, who all had a betting pool with the majority of the participants betting toward Katsuki. He was the biggest out of the three, surely he’d be the first to pop, but no. It was Eijirou.

It happened late at night when a new sensation woke Eijirou up from his sleep.

“Did I just…” he spoke out loud as a wet liquid began to trickle down his legs and over toward Izuku.

Eijirou watched as the liquid spread over toward Izuku. It barely had to touch the tip of his finger for him to wake up. He opened his eyes and looked over at Eijirou staring back at him.

“I’m sorry, I think I peed.”

Izuku sat up, the smell of the liquid hitting him and alerting him that no, no this was not pee, “Eijirou, your water broke.” he announced with urgency.

“My water broker but --,” he was then hit by a sudden and powerful contraction, causing him to let out a little yelp.

Izuku quickly left to fetch a potion for Eijirou, it was supposed to numb the pain of childbirth but childbirth demands to be felt and not everything was numb.

“This is fucking bull shit, Izuku!” he screamed, his qurik activating and resulting in the bed boards breaking.

Katsuki and Shoto watched on in slight horror.

“I’m never doing this shit for you ever again!” Eijirou screamed, “No one is because as soon as I’m done pushing these babies out, I’m ripping your dick off!”

“Please dont…”

“Eijirou, please focus.” the midwife tried to redirect his attention, “This one is ready to come out, now I need you too --.”

Eijirou then bore down and pushed the first of Izuku’s children out. Ren slid out of Eijirou, screaming and crying. He was a big infant and was very much excited to be alive.

Everyone instantly fell in love with him, the midwife cleaned him up and passed him to Izuku who held him to his neck, scenting him. Ren was passed around to Shoto and Katsuki as well. They, unknowingly washed their scent on the baby.

The next baby to come into the world was Aiko, and only half an hour later, the first girl, Sakura was born. All of the newborns were scented, swaddled, and would be cared for.

Katsuki was the next of the trio to give birth, to which he was both relieved and horrified because yay, finally but then oh my gosh I’m scared. So, since they knew the remainder of the babies would arrive soon, Katsuki, Shoto, and Izuku decided to have some sexy fun. Eijirou sat out, he was still healing and exhausted from the birth of his triplets. Instead he spent the remainder of the night snoozing or tending to the needs of his little newborns.

During their sexual escapade, Katasuki’s bliss turned into pain the moment he felt a pop along with water gushing out of him and onto Izuku’s dick.

“Shit.” he swore.

Izuku and the servants helped clean up the mess, while Katsuki was prepared for birth. The painkilling potion didn’t work as well as Katsuki wanted and as the pain of childbirth branched out from his spine he began to sob.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” he breathed, then screamed as a ripping contraction tore through him.

“It’ll be okay.” the midwife soothed, “You’ll see your little ones soon, I just need you to breathe through the pain and push as hard as you can.”

Katsuki nodded, he squeezed Izuku’s and Shoto’s hands as he pushed with all he had. Haru and Maru were born only 30 seconds apart, to which the midwife said, “You don’t want to keep going so quickly, at this rate, you’ll rip.”

Ten minutes of agony later, Katsuki was tired of keeping an easy pace and he pushed out Tobi. Then Hana and Kana were born only two minutes away from each other. By the time there was only one baby left, Katsuki was exhausted. It took him forty five minutes to push out the smallest of his litter, Kiki.

With a smile, Katsuki stared at his little babies with awe. They wiggled and cried, and to his surprise Katsuki couldn’t wait to have more. That was his final thought before passing out a seconds later from exhaustion. He spent the entire next day sleeping, and no one disturbed him.

Shoto was the last to give birth, and he was overdue when he finally asked Izuku to have the midwife induce him and she did. Katsuki and Eijirou were there with him, they had known he had been a little fragile during his time being pregnant and knew he needed all the support they could provide. They were at his sides, each holding a hand. Izuku took position next to the midwife to aid in this birth.

Izuku’s instinct to assist the midwife was right. The first of Shoto’s litter would cause complications.

“It’s --I can feel the first one comming down…” Shoto stammered.

“Slow down.” the midwife advised, then stated, “This is going to be a breech birth. The legs are coming out first, Mr. Midoriya, I need you to put your hands here and --”

Shoto screamed, he was starting to feel a burning sensation leaking from his pelvis and radiating upward. It was getting hard to breathe. Katsuki turned and kissed him on the forehead, Eijirou whispered, “Hey, you can do this. Breech or not, you can get this baby out.”

“I can’t do this!” Shoto shouted, “Stop, stop stop! Make it stop!! It hurts, please I can’t--,”

Shoto was ripping. He could feel himself tearing.

“Now, I need you to push hard!” the midwife ordered, “We have to get the head out, now. Okay, push push push!”

Shoto wasn’t even sure he was pushing at this point, it was all so painful. His vision was blurring as he looked down and noticed the midwife and Izuku handling a very quiet and limp infant.

“What, what’s wrong...?” Shoto asked, breathing hard and seeing black splotches.

He overheard the midwife say something about ‘...not breathing…’

“Is she okay?” Shoto asked, “Why isn’t she crying?”

Katsuki and Eijiro both reassured him that everything would be fine and indeed it was because a few seconds later, little Sachi began to cry and with a smile Shoto passed out. Shoto was only knocked out for a few minutes before it was time to resume the rest of his labor. Which was easy and not as painful as the first. Mari, Touka, and Touya were all a breeze to push out.

Afterwards, Shoto ended up having to be bedridden for the next month to allow himself to heal.

[foxtophat]

ugh my grammar checker is on the fritz so sorry if i fucked up something somewhere

ANYWAY HEY HOWDY HI guys how are you? boy it’s been two weeks already huh?  time flies when you’re on island time i guess.  SO HERE IS TODAY’S CHAPTER, it’s about john and nick dealing with their emotions, also it’s the first time where we officially touch actual factual canon!!! which is just crazy, my buds, absolutely nutso

i don’t have a lot to say today, i’m kind of tired and i’m dreading going to take my dog for a walk because nobody in this neighborhood understands that they need to stay away from me!!! so i’m gonna keep this simple. i really appreciate all of you, from the humble kudos i recieve from someone who got tired after the first chapter, to the mighty comment chains that you guys indulge me with when i finally get my socially anxious ass up to the task of replying to your beautiful comments. i am so happy that y’all are having fun with me, and i hope that we continue to all have fun together!!!

not much else to say without ruining it, so i’ll just say this: boy howdy, do people just not wear shirts in the apocalypse?

for the non-linkers out there, click the read-more to get straight to this chapter’s text!!! and if you enjoy, consider giving my project a little boost with one of those rebloggy things. you know i love it, and you know i love you!!! be safe buds!!!

Nick and John have spent the last day and a half repairing the fence that once enclosed the whole Rye property. Nick wouldn't bother if it weren't for the return of wildlife after the long winter, but they need to do something to prevent dogs from getting into the yard, and just this week Kim caught a deer trying to get at the planters. The last thing they need is to go another round with mother nature after they just reclaimed their place in her.

It's one of those days where the weather can't make up its mind, alternating between sunshine and shadow as massive clouds roll across the blue sky overhead. It doesn't quite look like rain, but they should be expecting it any day now.

Nick takes a swig from his canteen, waiting on Kim to bring him the box of nails from the hangar. He leans against a newly restored stretch of fencing, which doesn't collapse under his weight.

"Guess we're doing something right," he says to John, who's more interested in finishing the job than talking about it.

Still, he replies, "Don't jinx it." He even gives Nick a distrusting look, as though he's the liability around here.

"It's my fence, I'll jinx whatever I damn well want."

John scoffs. "I have enough bad luck without you making it worse."

"Oh yeah, real bad luck you've got here."

Kim finally returns with the box of nails, which admittedly had been left in a pile with a bunch of other components for later sorting. As she hands them over, she looks around the yard for Carmina.

"I think she's taking a nap," Nick reassures her.

"She's going to be up all night if she is," Kim replies, running a hand through her hair. "Maybe it's time she learns how to mend a fence. She'll probably enjoy it more than doing times-tables all afternoon."

"We still got a ways to go," Nick says. "All four of us might be able to get it done quicker."

With that settled, Kim turns towards the house. "Carmina!" she hollers. She waits a few beats for a response, then sighs wearily. "Alright, I'll be right back."

Nick shrugs away his first inkling of concern as he watches her go. John doesn't seem to care one way or another, ignoring Kim as she heads inside. It's taken a while, but he's finally mastered reattaching the cross-posts, and now he can throw himself into it as mindlessly as digging dirt or hauling trash. Nick used to think he was bad about burying himself in work, but jeeze . Watching John tune out the rest of the world while he works is fascinating, if only in the same way watching Hoarders or My 600 Pound Life had been. The only difference here is that there's no talking head to tell Nick just what John is trying to distract himself from.

"Nick!" Kim shouts, somewhere on the other side of the house. It isn't a scream or cry for help, but there is a deep and worrying concern underlying her voice.

Panic that Nick hadn't realized he had leaps into his throat, a thousand hideous possibilities flying through his mind as he springs to his feet. He forgets all about John, who follows behind him with his hammer still in hand. His mind is too busy coming up with dozens of feral dogs for him to fight off, if not maniacs with guns, or one of those god-awful bears ! He doesn't have time to consider whether or not he's dropped too much of his guard around John when Carmina is being kidnapped by raiders!

Nick turns the corner and sees Kim dragging Carmina across the front yard by her bicep. There's no blood, no screaming, not even a dead wolf in the yard to reveal to Nick the problem. For that, he has to look further, down the dilapidated front drive, where a group of people stands bunched together. They're far enough back that Nick can't see their faces, but the way they mill around worryingly reminds Nick of a pack of angels.

Two people are retreating from the house. Nick only catches their backs, but that's all he needs. It's impossible, after all, to miss the massive, faded black Eden's Gate brand, and while Nick can't read the words carved into the flesh around it, he recognizes them immediately.

Of course Joseph Seed is still wandering around shirtless, even a decade after the apocalypse. He's flanked by some beefy, hoodie-wearing jackass, returning to his flock who are spreading out to eagerly accept him back into the fold, without so much as a backward glance at the house or the people in it. He doesn't even seem to care that he's left his back wide open to them. Like he knows they aren't going to do anything about it.

Nick should shoot him. No, wait, Kim has the rifle, so she should shoot him. Somebody should shoot him!

But they don't. Kim drags Carmina inside while Nick stares helplessly after the retreating cultists, who swallow Joseph's form up in their group before disappearing down the drive the way they came. They're almost out of eyesight before Nick realizes that John's supposed to be standing next to him, but isn't.

He looks around wildly for a second, trying to catch John mid-escape, but the guy has vanished. There's no sign of him rejoining the group leaving their property, but Nick hasn't been paying attention, and John knows the area better now; he could easily be making a loop somewhere out of Nick's sight.

Swearing under his breath, Nick hovers in the doorway, keeping his eyes peeled for the missing Seed even as he desperately wants to check on Carmina. Thankfully, Kim has their daughter cornered by the stairs, so she isn't going anywhere.

Although the initial adrenaline seems to have worn off now that Carmina is safe and Joseph has left, Kim's still jittery and tense, trying and failing to hide it from their increasingly confused daughter.

"What did he do?" she asks Carmina, "Did he hurt you?"

"Who?" Carmina scoffs, "The bearded man? He was just... giving me some food. What's the matter?"

"If he ever shows up here again," Nick snaps, "You come straight to your mom and me, you understand?"

" You said to find food wherever we can!"

"Yeah, well, we don't take anything from him. Not even food!"

Carmina squints so hard that her lips purse. " Why ?"

Nick throws up his hands. He has no idea how he's supposed to explain Joseph to his daughter. He doesn't know how to warn her about bliss-tainted food, or the cult's violence, or all their fucked up brainwashing. He doesn't know how he's supposed to convince her not to go near that maniac when they've been keeping one of his brothers fed and sheltered for half a year!

Kim, lifesaver that she is, takes the burden of explanation onto her shoulders. She turns to Nick, looking to either side before asking him, "Where's John?"

Nick hisses through his teeth in response, unwilling to admit he lost sight of the guy pretty much the second danger presented itself. He should have known better. He shouldn't have let his guard down. If he'd known the problem was going to be Joseph, he would have been more careful!

"Go find him," Kim says. "I'll — let me handle this."

As much as Nick doesn't want to leave the burden to Kim alone, she's right. They can't lose sight of the bigger picture here — and that picture involves Joseph's youngest, most irrational brother, who's probably running through the brush right now to reunite with his stupid, psychopathic family.

Still, before he goes, he points at Carmina and demands, "The next time you see him, you run the other way."

"Go, Nick," Kim tells him, and so he reluctantly does.

Although logically , Nick should be making a beeline for Joseph's last known location, since that's undoubtedly where John has fled, his gut keeps him close to home. Instead of sneaking through the brush to confirm his suspicions, Nick turns to investigate the rest of the property first. He knows he's being naive, and a real idiot, but he needs to make sure John hasn't gone off to find a weapon or alternate escape route. More importantly, he has to prove to himself that John really did flee at the first sign of rescue.

There's no sign of John anywhere in the backyard, leaving the space weirdly empty. After so many months with another person living in their space, there's something strangely lonely about the concept of going back to living on their own. John is a creep, sure, but he had still been better than being on their own. And besides, he'd been getting better as of late — not exactly quality companionship, but at least he's been a little less of a dick and holding conversations for a full two or three sentences longer than usual. Just the other night, he'd managed to eat dinner and say two full words without turning into a morose teenager desperate to go back to his room.

Something crashes inside of the hangar, breaking Nick out of his thoughts. Of course, one paranoia is replaced by another, and Nick approaches the open service door ready for an attack. After all, there aren't a lot of reasons for John to stick around that don't involve beating Nick to death with a length of irrigation pipe.

The hangar is dark and silent. Nick stands in the doorway for a full ten seconds, waiting for some kind of response from the gloom, another noise, John calling out the all-clear... but nothing. He almost calls out, catching himself at the last second and biting his tongue. Since they've organized most everything in here by now, there aren't a lot of places for an ambush, but Nick steps slowly nonetheless, leaning around heaps of scrap metal and carefully edging around wobbly shelves holding boxes of materials. Every time he braces himself for a blow, he winds up wincing at nothing for seconds at a time.

Nick eventually finds John hiding behind the counter in the back of the hangar, pinned down against the wall. Crouched down with his head against his knees and his hands over his neck, he looks braced for another nuclear blast. His teeth audibly grind as Nick steps behind the counter, but if he's got anything to say, he keeps it to himself.

"John?" Nick asks. He's still braced for a fight, but John seems miles away.

He tries again. "John. Hey, John ."

" Yeah ," John hisses through his teeth, hunkered down for the apocalypse, "I hear you."

Neither of them move. Nick, getting increasingly uncomfortable under the tension, leans into his outrage to keep him from stalling out into a panic right alongside John. "What the hell was that?" he exclaims, throwing a hand up. "That psycho brother of yours was supposed to be dead — what, did you all have goddamn contingency plans in case the rest of you fucked up?"

"No," John mutters.

"And you said that goddamn cult shit was over with! Well, I just saw a dozen Peggies lurking around my property with that maniac. What do you have to say about that ? Doesn't seem very dead to me! He's coming around here, trying to pass handouts around, smug sonofabitch —"

John, bracing his feet against the ground, breaks past Nick's whirling anxiety. "Did he see me?" he asks.

"What?" Nick replies, abruptly forgetting about his rant. "I mean... No, I don't think so." He waits a beat for John to relax, to respond, continuing awkwardly when he doesn't. "He didn't look back, I mean."

John exhales, although it does nothing to ease his tension. "Okay," he says, repeating distantly, "Okay."

Nick had been so sure that John was going to try to escape, storming across the yard just a minute ago. But now, looking at the guy now, he's not sure John can even stand up, much less make a break for it. He realizes that despite all his reservations before, he doesn't think John is going anywhere. Not right now, anyway. Whether he wants to be or not, he's stuck here for the foreseeable future.

"You really didn't know, huh?" Nick asks. He lays on the pity thick enough that even he feels like he's being a dick about it, but all he gets is a nonverbal grunt in return. "Well, don't get any ideas," he continues, each word feeling like a step further into uncharted waters. "Just because we've been lax around here doesn't mean you're not still watched twenty-four-seven, you know! I hear you pacing around at night, so I'll know if you try to, uh..."

Nick really doesn't want to keep yelling at the back of John's head. He doesn't really mean to yell at all, letting his motor mouth run for him until he realizes abruptly that nothing he's saying is having an effect.

"John," Nick says again. He wishes he didn't sound as anxious as he does.

" Yes ," John rasps, "I hear you ."

Nick falls back against the counter, resting his weight against it as he watches John's tense form. "You don't even want to look at him?" he asks when the silence gets too uncomfortable.

"No," John mutters.

The next stretch of silence is broken as Kim enters the hangar. Nick wheels around, thankfully able to direct his energy towards someone who will respond to him for once.

"What happened?" he asks her, "Is Carmina alright?"

Kim makes a middling gesture with her hand, coming to a stop at the counter across from Nick. "I tried my best," she says. "I explained that he was the one who — well, that a lot of what happened before was because of him. She's going to need some time to process it, though. It's a lot to think about."

"What's there to think about?" Nick asks incredulously. "It's simple: they're whack-job cultists, and we're not . This is an anti-Peggy household! She isn't going to accept any handouts from Joseph Seed!"

Kim ignores Nick, turning her uncertain frown in John's direction. Honestly, though, Nick is just fine with that, considering that he isn't going to be any help with John's mental spiral.

She chews on her lip as she tries to figure out the best thing to say. "You're going to have to talk to us," she tells him at last. It's not exactly an ultimatum, but there's not a lot of room for arguing.

"I didn't know," John says after the silence stretches out between the three of them. It would be more convincing if he would make some eye-contact, but Nick finds himself believing it anyway. Especially as John miserably continues, "I thought he was dead."

"If there's anything you know that could help us figure out what he's doing here, now would be a great time to tell us," Kim points out, gentler than maybe she even intended. "What's his plan? What is he going to do next?"

John swallows heavily. Nick wonders if he has any loyalty left to his brother, if he has to struggle between revealing information or continuing to live with them the way he has been. Maybe he's just too panicked to think of anything beyond how to get out of this immediate situation. Again, eye contact would really help here, but Nick's not banking on that happening.

"It was so long ago," John mutters finally. "He wanted to start over. Jacob was meant to — to lock the armory. No one was going to need it after the Collapse. He and the faithful would establish New Eden together — without sin, without the unfaithful, and..." He lifts his shoulders, the first move he's made since Nick's found him. "No matter what, they would get it right this time."

"Last thing I heard before everything went nutty, the deputy trashed Jacob's armory," Nick says.

John huffs. At last, he uncurls from his doomsday position, slumping back into the cabinet behind him. "That does sound like them," he says, oddly relieved.

"He gave Carmina food," Kim says. "Should I be worried? It could be contaminated, right?"

"What kind of food?" he asks.

"Bread, I think? Crackers? I don't know exactly."

John shakes his head, scrubbing his eyes briefly. "It wouldn't be Bliss. The heat would kill it."

Kim sighs with relief. "Okay. I'll take your word for it."

Nick almost asks if that's such a good idea, but John doesn't look like he can take another kick lying down right now. "So what are we supposed to do?" he asks instead. "Just let him go rebuild his bullshit back on the island? Reform the cult and retake all the land that we thought he lost when the bombs dropped? Trust him not to have another psychotic breakdown and envision a good reason to get violent again?"

"I don't know," John sighs. He's so pale and tired, as though his panic attack had burned through all of his energy. He works his jaw over some thought or another. At last, he admits to them, "You should shoot him, although I doubt he will ever get close enough again."

Kim blinks, nails scratching the counter-top as she curls her hands defensively. "Are you serious?" she asks.

John takes a deep breath. "Yes," he says. "I am."

"Okay, well, it's something to keep in mind," Kim says, slowly feeling out her own opinion on the matter. "But I don't think that murdering him is going to be the answer. Maybe it was back then, but now... I mean, things change."

"He won't change," John tells her. "He won't."

"That's what everyone thinks about you," Nick points out. He doesn't realize it's a low blow until John bows his head again, leaving him to flounder. "I just mean, you know..."

"I know what you mean," John replies. Nick isn't appreciative of the icy tone, but at least it's put an end to him eating his own foot.

"Right now, we need to keep calm," Kim tells them, disappointedly eying Nick. "I'm going to get on the radio and let Grace know what happened. I'll trust her to tell the right people, so the whole county doesn't turn into a witch-hunt. The last thing we need is for another war to break out and destroy all the progress everyone's made."

"Right. Okay." Nick scuffs his shoe on the dirty concrete. "John, uh. We can keep working on the fence. Unless you... need a break. You can stay here, if you want."

He feels like an ass offering it, but John doesn't let it hang for long. "No," he shakes his head, lifting it again, "I can work."

Nick doesn't think "can" and "should" are the same here, but who is he to judge? All he wants to do right now is focus on something he can get done, rather than sit around speculating. John is probably even more eager to bury himself back into his work, now that he has something he really needs to be distracted from.

Kim doesn't wait for them, taking off for the house at a brisk walk. Nick waits for John to stand, then follows him out of the hangar, setting him to work on the part they'd been working on before. He starts to help, but John seems to have it and he seems to be more interested in spiraling mentally, so Nick sets up a few yards down to work in silence. The entire time, he watches as John goes through the motions, a million miles away as he stops to occasionally stare at the trees not so far away. Nick doesn't know what he's looking for, but even though he wants to ask, he can't bring himself to risk detonating whatever emotional time-bomb is building.

Nick wakes up that night not knowing what roused him. Sleeping for more than a few hours at a time is a miracle most nights, interspersed by long stretches of watching the passage of time from the shadows on the wall. Tonight is no different, and Nick blearily watches the deep, dark blue shadows that fill the room during the deepest hours of the night. He almost doesn't realize that Kim is awake, not until she reaches out to gently shake his shoulder once again.

"What," he groggily whispers, "What's the matter?"

"I don't know," Kim whispers back. "I thought I heard something."

The only thing Nick can hear is the house creaking all around them. He catches a thud from the other room, which usually means John is up and pacing around. It's much more apparent that isn't the case when the second bedroom door slams open, rattling the wall, followed by running footsteps down the hall.

Carmina groans, half-awake as Nick throws off the blankets, leaping out of bed and yanking on his jeans. "Son of a bitch ," he hisses, "That goddamn liar — no, stay here." He waves a hand at Carmina, who groggily waves a hand back, and tells Kim, "Somebody has to keep an eye on her. I'll handle this."

"Nick..."

He doesn't have time to argue about it, so he just bolts from the room and hopes Kim won't follow. He doesn't bother to check the damage to the door, which is hanging wide open against the wall; instead, he chases John's footsteps down the stairs, thundering down them and coming to a brief halt in the living room as he guesses where John has gone next.

The front door is wide open, leaving Nick staring out into the misty dark by himself. It's just thick enough that Nick can't see past the car parked protectively in front of the house, and boy does he not want to go out there. He's exhausted, and the last thing he wants to do is go running around in the mist like it's 2018 all over again.

But he has to, because he can't let John get away. To think he believed that rotten, lying asshole! Of course, the second Nick lets his guard down, the second he decides to believe that John isn't frothing at the mouth to return to his old life, of course that bastard has to go and shove it in his face! He hadn't been able to hold up the act for one night after Joseph reared his goddamn head? What a joke.

It's a wet, cool night, and the mist is thick enough that Nick can't immediately see John as he jogs down the drive, but it doesn't take him long to catch up. John's escape plan seems to come to an abrupt end halfway down the lane as he comes to an unsteady stop on the cracked dirt. Nick picks up the pace, angry enough to jog barefoot after the bastard trying to escape. At this distance, Nick could probably shoot him — that is, if he'd bothered to bring either of the guns with him. If Joseph appears and has his lackeys attack him, he's going to be shit out of luck.

Nick gets within a yard of John and finds himself pulling up short. "What the hell, John!" he exclaims, too tired to notice his voice cracking and far too exhausted to care that he's given up his only chance at a surprise attack. "Are you kidding me with this bullshit, you lying, no-good —"

John whirls around, fist balled up and pulled back like he's actually going to strike at Nick. His face is blotchy and wet, his eyes heavily rimmed with red. "Get the fuck away from me!" he shouts, voice welled with panic, and Nick takes an immediate obliging step backwards. He's run right out into no-man's land without any defenses and he does not want to get caught up in the messy storm of John's emotions if he can help it. He especially doesn't want to get punched in the face for his effort.

As soon as he moves, John drops his fist, run ragged by the burst of adrenaline that got him this far out of the house. He breathes like he's just run twenty miles. His eyes drop to Nick's hands, to his hip where he usually holsters the pistol, up to where the rifle should be strapped to his chest, and then finally he directs his wild eyes to Nick's face.

"What are you doing," he gasps.

"What am I doing," Nick shouts, "What the hell are you doing! You can't just break down the door and go running for your brother whenever you have a — a nightmare, or whatever!"

"You don't now what you're talking about," John hisses.

"I know exactly what I'm talking about! As soon as you find out he's alive, you go running after him! I'm catching you in the act!"

"That's not —!" John's objection is strangled by emotion, pushing past it to shout hoarsely, " He was supposed to be dead ! And now he knows I'm here, he has to, and he's going to come for me and there is nothing I can do about it!" He throws his hands in the air. "Nothing will ever stop him," he exclaims, "And there's no point — there's no fucking point to any of this if he's just going to rip it away from me!"

John is easily twice as strong as Nick, but that doesn't stop Nick from wanting to grab him and shake him until he shuts up. "Maybe you should think about somebody other than yourself, then, you stupid bastard!" He throws a hand back towards the house. "If you go back to Joseph, you're going to ruin our lives . We've been helping you because you said you were done! We promised Grace you were telling the truth! Do you think she's going to forgive us? And how do you expect us to explain it to Carmina when you show up with your goddamn inquisition again? Eventually, you'll come for us, and you'll force Carmina through — and I can't let that happen!"

Nick swallows back the heavy emotion that's threatening to overwhelm him. "Come the hell on, no point ," he finally snaps, voice frayed. "You goddamn asshole."

John frowns heavily. He doesn't have anything to say in response, standing there mutely hopeless for a full thirty seconds before he finally tries to speak. "I didn't think about that," he finally mumbles.

"No, you did not ." Nick sighs, heaving out all of the anger left inside. "Look. You can sit out here all night and wait for Joseph if you want, but you're doing it on your own. I'm not gonna watch you waste your time. If you're coming back inside, let's go."

Nick plays the gambit for what it is, turning his back to John and starting back for the house. He walks slowly, and though at first he thinks John might not follow, he eventually feels John trailing behind him, a ball of tense anxiety right at his back. When they reach the front yard, John comes to a stop, forcing Nick to turn to him.

"I just... need a minute."

"It's way too late for this," Nick groans, "Just — be quiet when you come back upstairs. I don't need Carmina waking up a second time."

John swallows. He looks weirdly desperate as he tries to find something to say, but that's no surprise. He's always perpetually waiting for Nick or Kim to start treating him the way he would treat his own prisoners. "Okay," he rasps, like he might start crying again.

That is Nick's cue, so he darts back inside and upstairs, careful to limit the creaking as much as he can so as to not rouse Carmina. Hopefully she didn't keep Kim up with a bunch of questions about what's going on — those will be fine in the morning, but Kim doesn't get enough sleep as it is.

Kim is still awake, even if Carmina has passed out again. She looks worried, and Nick can't help but wonder how much of their argument had made it through the windows and cracks in the wall.

"Is everything okay?" she asks as he shoves off his jeans and climbs back into bed.

"Who knows," Nick sighs. "He's outside. Don't worry, I locked our door, and the rifle's right here."

"I'm not worried about that," Kim mutters. She brushes some of his hair out of his face as he lies down, following his lead reluctantly. "Next time, let me handle it."

Nick yawns and closes his eyes. "That's crazy talk," he mumbles, although maybe next time John has a meltdown, it would be better for Kim to take care of it. That's a problem for Nick tomorrow, though — right now, his brain is shutting off the lights at a rapid pace, and it's barely a minute later before Nick has completely passed out.

Nick wakes up to the cool, blue-gray light before dawn. It takes a few minutes for Nick to gather the energy to move, but he needs to check and see what happened to John after last night. Hopefully, he went back to bed and Nick will only have to look outside his own door to check on him.

Kim and Carmina are still fast asleep as he carefully climbs out of bed, taking care not to step on the creakiest floorboards as he pulls on his jeans and boots. He's sure that Kim would be glad to do this for him, but she needs to rest and he needs to make sure he didn't put his faith in the wrong Seed brother.

The whole house is quiet. Even the creaks that he can normally hear all night have eased up, leaving Nick's footsteps to echo as he carefully steps out into the hall, closing the door behind him with a quiet click.

John's door is still hanging open. Nick takes a moment to look in, but John's nowhere to be seen; when he closes the door, the broken lock scrapes against the doorframe and leaves it stuck half in place. It'll be easy enough to repair, and Nick knows just the petulant jackass to fix it.

The stairs creak as Nick heads down into the first floor gloom. There's only enough light to clear the darkest shadows, but once the sun rises and they open up the back porch, it'll be fine. For now, Nick heads out the front door and circles around the the backyard. There's a chance that John' won't be found anywhere, that he's given up and gone off to find his family, but Nick can't bring himself to consider it. After everything John said last night — Nick would never be able to believe the man if he turned out to be a turn-coat.

Thankfully, John isn't hard to find at all. He's taken a seat on the empty planter, watching the spinach heads grow. From his pale, haggard face and the dampness of his shirt, it's clear he stayed out here all night. He doesn't outright acknowledge it as Nick approaches, but there's no mistaking the way his entire body tenses for a fight.

It's way too early for a fight, and honestly Nick doesn't think he's got one in him anyway. "Morning," he offers instead, coming to a stop next to the planter. "Guess you didn't get any sleep."

John exhales. "No," he says, his voice rough. He hesitates another second or two longer. "I needed to think."

"Yeah, I figured."

On the right side of groggy like he is, Nick doesn't hesitate to take a seat next to John. He drags his boot through the dirt for an awkward moment, before finally saying, "I guess you decided to stay."

"I was never going to..." John bites his cheek, taking a breath before continuing in a more subdued tone, "I didn't want to leave. I'm well aware that I'm better off here than I've been anywhere else. It was just... a lapse in clarity." He takes a breath, like he might be gearing up for one of those old-fashioned monologues of his, and Nick finds himself weirdly eager to hear it. Kim's curiosity is definitely rubbing off on him.

"I've had these... dreams," he admits quietly. "For years now. They're... intense. So vivid, so real that I used to... They used to consume all of my time." His hand gestures limply towards the ground, as close as he's ever gotten to talking openly about the bunker. "They happen less, now, but I still recieve... messages, warnings from Joseph. When I thought he was dead, they were easier to ignore. But I never could dismiss them outright. And the one I had last night felt so real. So much so that I suppose I didn't realize when I woke up. All I could think about was what he was saying and I... I panicked."

Nick probably shouldn't ask. This is the most John's spoken in months, and he shouldn't interrupt, but he can't help himself. "What'd he say?" he asks.

John looks over at him, his expression complicated and dark. "That he knew where I was," he says. "That no one would stop him from saving me." He closes his eyes, turning his face away. "But he didn't come," he finishes. "He didn't show. It was just a dream. I know that now. I won't make the same mistake again."

There's nothing Nick can say to that, and nothing that John wants to add, so they sit in silence for a minute or so.

Eventually, John looks back to Nick, checking him over for weapons with much less panic than last night. "What happens now?" he asks.

"Well, we still have half a fence to build," Nick points out. "Plus, we gotta start laying out plans for the electrical wiring, so when we get the generator up and running..."

"I meant with me," John interrupts. "I broke out — I tried to escape. Doesn't that warrant — something ?"

"You're going to have to fix the door," Nick replies. "And you're already doing the heavy lifting around the house. You want me to ground you, or something? No dessert for a week?"

John sighs heavily. "You could come up with better than that."

"I don't want to come up with something better." Nick braces his feet on the dirt, but fails to stand at the last moment, even though he wants nothing more than to propel himself out of this conversation. "Life is already hard enough as it is. I'm not going to add to it just to make you feel better."

It's clear from his furrowed brow that John doesn't get it, but that's okay. Nick's satisfied with the peaceful resolution as it is. John might scowl in confusion at the ground, but at least he isn't demanding Nick take a pound of flesh from him or something. It's too bad that he isn't satisfied by simply apologizing, since that's all Nick needs, but he'll get the hang of it eventually. Lord knows he's gotten the hang of plenty else so far.

Nick pushes himself to his feet. He might as well use this extra time to get everything ready for breakfast, even if it's technically Kim's turn to cook. Still, he stops to stand over John, waffling on whether or not the guy deserves some genuine comfort. He's been open and honest enough — Nick probably should do the same. "Look. I, uh, appreciate you telling me. About the, uh, dreams, and all that. I figured you'd forgotten how to talk about yourself." He hesitates, then suggests, "You might wanna go get some sleep before breakfast. We really do got a lot more fence to go over."

John turns his head, following the broken line of fencing that reaches out clear down to the end of the airstrip. "You're right," he says at last. "I should rest."

"Please tell me you don't need me to escort you all the way upstairs," Nick says, mostly joking as they make their way inside. Letting John walk around freely hasn't ended up in disaster so far, but John still seems surprised that Nick's going to let him continue on alone.

"No," he says, "I have it." He stops on the stairs, watching as Nick forcibly ignores him in favor of getting the kindling and cast iron skillet. When Nick fails to stop him, though, he finally turns and makes his way up. Nick tries not to make it obvious as he waits to hear John walk across the upper hallway to his room, the door scraping audibly against the frame as he opens and then shuts it again. Only then does Nick seriously get to work on starting the morning fire, glad to have some small task to distract him from the thoughts that would otherwise pin him in place — thoughts about loyalty, and about what John said, and about his own dreams that have sometimes seemed too real to be anything less than prophetic. Maybe someday, he'll sort all his feelings out, but for now he can build a fire and hold on to the vague suspicion he has that maybe, just maybe, pulling John out of that bunker had been a good idea after all.

[corvid-420]

So here’s the situation in a nutshell: i’m long-term unemployed after a labor violation (which i recorded lmao; see readmore) and don’t even have a laptop after I and everyone at a more recent part-time job got fired. also i just found out my bank didn’t let me overdraft to pay the IRS the $226 i owe the little eichmanns for all four thousand dollars of my 2018 income so I owe that, too.

Here’s my PayPal. I’ll also be finishing and posting more content on my Patreon in the coming days. Botnik Strategies is the channel I want to use to teach y’all how to give scheming liberals and their fascist allies a taste of their own treachery; trust me i have experience with that.

Here’s some of the work I’ve done on The New Inquiry, and a case study of how I’ve used the Frankfurt School in strategic communications is here (password is in paypal).

For this to be sustainable and to just find a job I need to actually have a laptop, or at least regular access to the library’s computers which also costs money but with -10 cents on my clipper card, and .16 cents in my bank account with no certainty of income in the future (oh save for 50 bucks for a survey I did, and a 5 dollar starbucks gift card. oppalance!)

My goal of course is to avoid buying American or from any of its suzerainties, not just for political reasons, but that they’re crap (my old Acer is Taiwanese, and Fuck apple more generally; more on the acer below). Most importantly, I need to scrape through long enough to reunite with my husband overseas, and at least try and see family here in California, which I haven’t been able to since my purge.

Thank you all again for your support throughout these times! Even just a reblog and words of support really do help, for as Clausewitz says, the most important element in war is morale, and whether you realize it or not, someone’s already at war with you.

On the day of Trump’s election, the scheming vipers at the Sierra Club finally succeeded in purging me from the organization despite distinguishing myself from my “peers” for having the gall to anticipate trump. I spent literally all of 2016 trying to professionalize their election strategy, aka taking Trump seriously, and approach him as a political professional should, not as a drunken frat boy would just calling him “crazy”.

After Trump won, rather than say, “oh hey, you were right and maybe we should use your skills in some way,” they instead saw me as a liability that would undermine their Russian conspiracy theories and fired me despite my union. The maneuver they resorted to was a shady mode of termination known as an ‘amicable separation’.

They had to resort to this contrivance by maliciously recasting my attempts to optimize campaign strategy as my being “rude” and “unprofessional”. Once these accusations were made, I did relish in the opportunity to be petty, but I did so only once they began accusing me and only after it became clear they were making me jump through hoops rather than take my suggestions seriously throughout the entire year. 

And once I realized they weren’t going to reward me for my foresight but punish me for it, I applied my acumen by arming myself with a recording of a meeting with my manager for use in future separation negotiations, which I’m not sharing today out of need and desperation and in possible breach of the crooked deal they forced on me. In this audio, my manager’s low capacity for stratagem has him resorting to saying he loved me while demanding i apologize in violation of my Weingarten rights. The bourgeoisie is always laying a trap... (pw is in paypal, as well).

Note the difference in caliber and approach between my work, and their work, with careful attention to when they were uploaded, and it becomes clear why they plotted to purge me. The meeting in the audio took place the week before Thanksgiving.

Since then I’ve been unemployed, save for a few freelancing gigs. With these and the tireless work of my husband @bumbakvetch I was able to keep shelter for a time in a kitche-nless slum where I contracted H pylori, so things have been worse in some ways, but it’s been a steady decline since.

Most recently I had a gig that I won’t talk shit about until I decide in the coming days whether I’m throwing the Feds at them for firing everyone on staff after they tried to make us sign away unrestricted access to our phones without paying us for using our data for the job (which is illegal, btw).

Point is, since losing that job in March, I haven’t had a functioning laptop. The acer I relied on is breaking at the screen, it shuts off spontaneously even at full battery, it doesn’t always ‘register’ that it’s plugged in so it’s almost always at 20ish percent battery, the keyboard/mouse will often stop responding unless I let it spontaneously shut down or close/reopen the laptop, further degrading the already broken screen, it’s a mess. Here’s a few shots of just the cosmetic deterioration:

the other side is also threatening to fall apart soon, see the lower right corner, that’s a fissure that grows every time I have to close it, though I try not to if I don’t have to.

And if you have ADHD like I do, you know it can crater your productivity to have to spend 10-20 minutes every hour or so to troubleshoot the next problem while looking at the lights constantly to see if the laptop registers that it’s charging, and that’s if the laptop bothers to turn back on at all.

And yes, I’ve tried to fix it many times, but i bought it refurbished so there wasn’t warranty, and tinkering with the motherboard to see if maybe the power jack was just loose didn’t do anything, nor did buying different replacement cables.

I’ll send a picture of my IRS bill or amount owed if anyone has to see it to believe me, but here’s a screenshot of my bank account from this morning:

[mxliv-oftheendless]

The Horrifying Slaughter at Hinterkaifeck Farm

Hello! Perhaps unexpected, I know, but I got bored and decided “what the hell?” So y’all get another KISS Unsolved installment! This is a much shorter episode that I tweaked to fit the main format, which I had to do since this episode is from the very first episodes when Ryan was just making his little less-than-ten-minutes-long Powerpoints. But I hope you enjoy! (tw: there’s a mention of SUSPECTED incest near the end. Again, it’s SUSEPCTED incest, not confirmed, but I thought I’d let you guys know ahead of time.) 

Tag list: @cosmicrealmofkissteria​  @ashestoashesvvi​  @kategwidt​  @retronova​

[intro sequence, then title card]

[screen cuts from title card to Vinnie and Paul sitting behind a desk cluttered with papers, pens, a desk lamp, and other objects. Behind them are bulletin boards full of things from various unsolved cases and conspiracies. In order from left to right: Paul, Vinnie]

VINNIE: This week on Buzzfeed Unsolved, we’re taking a look at the horrifying slaughter of Hinterkaifeck Farm, an unsolved case in Germany to this day and, if I’m being honest, a pretty chilling one too.

PAUL: Also, you may have noticed the absence of one of the three in our little motley crew.

VINNIE: Yep, it’s just me and Paul today.

PAUL: Gene’s out sick. But don’t freak out, it’s just the flu. The media needs to calm the hell down.

VINNIE: They do. But we’re not here to talk about the media. We’re here to talk about a grisly murder.

PAUL: Which is also what the media talks about every day when they’re not talking about this crap.

VINNIE: [facepalms, laughing] See, this is what happens when Genie’s gone and it’s just me and Paul.

PAUL [grinning]: Chaos is unleashed.

VINNIE: Chaos is unleashed. Well, no sense in putting this off.

PAUL: Take it away, Vin. [Vinnie opens his case file]

[screen cuts away from the three to a black screen. Pictures and text appear on screen as Vinnie narrates]

VINNIE [voiceover]: On the evening of March 31st, 1922, six residents of the Hinterkaifeck Farm in Bavaria, Germany, were found murdered with a pickaxe. They were husband and wife Andreas and Cazilia Gruber, their widowed daughter, Viktoria, and Viktoria’s two children, Cazilia and Josef, as well as the Gruber family maid, Maria Baumgartner There are no credible news sources that reported this, but there are many accounts of it online, so it is very possible that it did indeed happen.

So this is just fuckin’ fanfiction (laughs) that someone wrote.

No! This isn’t (laughs) this isn’t fanfic, Paul. There’s pictures, and there’s also records of it in Germany.

Pictures—well that’s bullshit.

No it’s not!

You work at BuzzFeed, man, you don’t know how to doctor pictures???

I—shut up.

(laughs)

These aren’t doctored.

Okay, alright, let’s get into it.

(laughs) Fuck you, Paul.

I was just making sure this was accurate!

VINNIE [voiceover]: Before we get into suspects, a few things should be noted. The first is that two-year-old Josef was murdered in his crib, while the maid, Maria, was murdered in her bed. The rest of the family had been murdered all together in the family barn.

So four of the family’s killed in the barn

Yes.

and the baby and the maid are left killed in their beds.

Exactly.

Huh. Interesting.

Yeah, for some reason the killer decided to leave them there, while murdering everyone else in the family barn. They were actually found stacked on top of each other.

Safe to assume they weren’t already stacked on top of each other

(wheeze)

and then killed, right?

(laughing) He killed them all in one fatal blow. (laughs) No, they weren’t. It didn’t happen that way.

VINNIE [voiceover]: This is where things get a little creepy. Whoever killed the Gruber family then stayed in the house afterwards. In the week that followed the murders, cattle were still being fed, meals were being eaten in the kitchen, and neighbors reported seeing smoke coming out of the chimney. The Saturday after the murders, the dog was seen tied to a post near the barn by the mailman. And the very next day on Sunday, the bodies were finally discovered.

Okay… wow.

Yeah, I know.

That’s… I don’t think you’ve ever talked about a case where the murderer does that.

No, I have not.

That is kinda creepy.

Oh, it gets creepier.

Oh shit.

VINNIE [voiceover]: Another creepy detail is that Maria, the maid, had not worked for the family for very long. In fact, the day of the murders was also the day she was hired to replace the previous maid. The previous maid had left six months earlier, claiming the house was haunted. She claimed to hear footsteps in the attic as well as voices. The family dismissed her, also initially dismissing her claims. But six months later, shortly before the murders, the family began to hear footsteps in the attic. Andreas Gruber found an unfamiliar newspaper, and the house keys also began to go missing. He also found that the door to the toolshed had been scratched up, as if someone had been trying to break in.

Is that where they kept the pickaxe?

Yep.

nOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOOOOOO really?!

(laughing)

They kept the pickaxe in the toolshed???

Well, where else would you keep a pickaxe?

Not in the toolshed!

VINNIE [voiceover]: Finally, footprints were discovered in the snow by Mr. Gruber, leading to the back of the house from the forest, but he didn’t find a set of footprints returning to the woods. Meaning three things about whoever the footprints belonged to: he or she never left the house, was most likely the one whose footsteps were heard by the maid and the family, and was most likely the one who murdered the Gruber family and Maria.

You can’t deny that that’s chilling.

That is pretty fucking creepy to think about. Too bad Gene’s not here, he would probably give a wild theory about it being a ghost or some shit.

(laughs) I can’t imagine you’d be excited about him doing that.

No, I wouldn’t. Because that’s bullshit.

VINNIE [voiceover]: There was no money taken during the murder, which suggests this was a crime of passion. And with that, let’s get into the suspects. Of the many theories online, there is only one legitimate suspect that I could find: the Gruber’s next door neighbor, Lorenz Schlittenbauer.

Nah, I bet it wasn’t him.

Dude, I didn’t even get into why he’s a suspect!

Yeah, but think about it: if he’s running his own farm, he doesn’t have the time to do all the work that needs to be done on the Gruber farm too. That’s like a six person job done by one guy, who has his own farm to run.

I never said he was the top suspect, or that he was even a solid suspect. I just said he was the one legitimate suspect.

Oh. Sorry, Vinnie.

(wheeze) If you would let me finish, I’ll tell you why he’s considered a suspect.

Okay, enlighten me.

VINNIE [voiceover]: Schlittenbauer believed Viktoria’s son, Josef, was his son, since he had been intimate with Viktoria in the past. However, in an unexpected twist, the son was suspected to be Andreas Gruber’s son, who if you’ll recall, was Viktoria’s father.

What the fuck?!

It’s suspected, not confirmed.

That still doesn’t make it okay!

I know, it doesn’t, I’m just saying!

VINNIE [voiceover]: Though, that is the only thing linking Schlittenbauer to the Gruber family. This theory is shaky at best. To cap this little horrifying tale off, the heads of the Grubers and Maria were removed during the autopsy, and then, somehow, misplaced. Meaning the six victims had to buried without their heads.

Hey man, it’s 1922, things get lost.

How do you lose—that’s six heads! That’s so many heads! How do you lose that many heads in one place?!

I—government, man.

(wheeze) The government… (laughs)

VINNIE [voiceover]: Following the murders, the farmhouse was demolished, and a monument to the Gruber family was put up in its place. And yet, many questions still remain. Who was the person staying in the house of the unsuspecting Grubers? Who murdered the Grubers and their maid? And most importantly, how in the hell do you lose six heads? For now, and perhaps forever, the case remains… UNSOLVED.

[cuts back to the office set]

PAUL: Well this was fun.

VINNIE: Yeah, all things considered, it was less intense telling this story than I thought it would be.

PAUL: A fun little yarn to cap off the week. Gene, sorry you couldn’t be here to see this. Hope by the time this goes up, you’re not sick anymore.

VINNIE: Hope he doesn’t give Shannon what he caught.

PAUL: Yeah, me too. Shannon’s an angel.

VINNIE: Yeah, she’s great.

PAUL: She puts up with Gene, she’s a lovely angel. [Vinnie laughs] I spend too long a time in the same room with Gene, I wanna punch him in the face.

VINNIE: Okay, okay. We should probably wrap this up.

PAUL: Wanna go get Subway?

VINNIE: Sure, I’d love that. [they get up from their chairs and wave at the camera before they walk off set]

BUZZFEED UNSOLVED TRUE CRIME

What unsolved mystery do you want to see next?

[yaachtynoboat711]

Fonder 5.2

A/N: So this is obvi a follow-up of Ch.5 as well as its conclusion. Hopefully, the plot won’t be as shook up as it was in 5.1 or will it? I hope y’all enjoy.

Word Count: little over 3K

Warning(s): Plot progression, fluff, specks of angst(?)

NEW YEARS DAY 2015, 11:47 A.M, Malibu, California NEW YEARS DAY 2015, 11:47 A.M, Malibu, California

Peace and serenity—the most fitting way to transition into the New Year. The overlapping sounds of seagulls and crashing ocean waves outside would usually pull Yaa out of her deep slumbers. If it wasn’t the beach sounds, then it was her actual alarm. But let’s be honest: no one really has an alarm go off on New Year’s day, especially if you had the night that Yaa had had. Yaa’s snoring went in sync with the crashing waves and her wavy, honey blonde locs scattered at every which way across the silk taupe pillow case. Boom boom boom. The heavy knocking on her bedroom had startled her out of her post-sex slumber. Who was banging on her door like the feds before noon? The trio of knocks continued until she reluctantly got out of bed and searched for anything to put on.

“I’m comin’...damn!”, she tried to yell, but her hoarseness wouldn’t allow her. She winced in pain as she hopped into a pair of shorts and a tank top and began limping towards the door. She opened the door to see that it was her best friend, Tanisha. “Bitch...somebody better be dead, hurt, or dying.”

Tanisha chuckled. “Well, Happy New Year to you, too. Lover Boy is down there making brunch.”

Yaa looked at her friend in total confusion. “Is that what I’m smelling? Tanisha nodded. “Well, I’m surprised you aren’t somewhere fighting a hangover.”

Tanisha rolled her eyes. “I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night. Between you gettin’ your cervix tickled, and trust me, it sounded like he was giving’ you the BUSINESS, and me throwing my night up, I was going through it. Started the new year off on the wrong foot.”

Yaa felt herself turning red and her eyes bugging out. “Were we really that loud?”

“Sis, he might’ve worn you out, but you must have that voodoo pussy. Wanna know why? You got Michael B. Jordan in your kitchen cooking yo magical pussy having ass a 5-star brunch on New Year’s day. If that ain’t power, then I don’t know what the hell is. Done turned this nigga into a damn domestic overnight. Speaking of, text me when breakfast is ready. I deserve whatever he’s whippin’ up.”

Tanisha went back into room, presumably to catch up on her missed Z’s. Yaa went downstairs to see Michael for herself. The further she got down the stairs, the louder the “All About the Benjamins” got. She carefully hopped off the stair landing and Diddy bopped her way through the den, making a slight left to go through the back way into the kitchen.

She pursed her lips to keep from laughing as she watched Michael also Diddy bop back to the stove to finish cooking whatever he had cooking on the stove. Wearing only a pair of heather grey cut-off sweats and Nike slides with socks, his shoulders and upper body bounced to the beginning of Total’s “Can’t You See”. He placed a kitchen towel over his shoulder before plating his brunch creation.

“So what’s on the menu, Mr. Jordan?”, she spooked.

He seized, clenching the small saucepan he had in his grasp. “Shit!”

Yaa chuckled, “I’m sorry I couldn’t help it.”, she stopped to look over his shoulder, “you still haven’t answered my question.”

“Cajun catfish and cheese grits, fruit, and peach bellinis.”

“Oooh shit! Lemme find out the B in your name stands for ‘Brunch Daddy’! I’ll get Tanisha up.”

Yaa called Tanisha from the bottom of the stairs. Tanisha came down moments later. The three sat at the table passing bowls, skillets, and pans to each other. The room was filled with the sounds of clacking plates and satisfied stomachs.

“Who would’ve known Michael B. Jordan was a whole ass chef? I learned something new today.”, remarked Yaa as she sipped her Powerade.

Michael chuckled at Yaa’s comment, “Word? Well, to be honest, if this acting thing didn’t work out, Plan B was being a chef. My mom taught me how to cook and I haven’t looked back since. Now from what I hear, you know how to get down yourself.”

It was hard for Yaa to be humble, but she managed to keep her cool. “I mean, I’m a country girl. Carrie, my maternal grandmother, taught me most of what I know. She and my Rainey raised me and my siblings when my parents were working pretty much around the clock for a few years.”

“How many siblings?”

“2. I have a twin sister, Farrah, that’s fraternal as hell, and a brother, Jahlil, that’s 5 years younger.”

He laughed at her statement about her sister Farrah. “I also have two other siblings--I’m a middle child. An older sister and a younger brother.” Tanisha, the oldest of four, and Yaa both cringed at him being the middle child. “I couldn’t imagine having two sisters though.”

Yaa shot him a look. “Watch it, son.”

He placed his fist in front of his mouth as he chewed. “So, I heard you say you were a country girl, so how country are we talkin’?”

“I was born in Alabama and graduated high school and college in Alabama, but I was raised in a massive mansion in rural Louisiana, so I’m a Louisi-Bama. You’re a Jersey-Cali boy from my understanding?”

He shook his head in the affirmative, impressed with her knowledge about him. “Ok! President of the fan club is showing herself worthy of the title.”

“Boy, don’t get cussed out.”

*****

Missed Call: Maybe: Winny the Pooh

Yaa tapped on the missed call notification without hesitation. She almost forgot they weren’t talking. Immediately after their last exchange, Winston’s number went to the good ole Block List. Something told her to unblock his number the day before leaving for California. So she did and now here she was, returning her ex’s ca—

“Hello?”, Winston answered.

“He-heyyyy you! Happy New Year! I saw you called and I’m just seeing your text.”, Yaa replied. Silence. You could hear a rat piss on carpet.

“Ummm…”, he cleared his throat, “...so you down for lunch?”

“Oof. I just had brunch. How does coffee or tea sound? Bean in Beverly Hills?”

“That’s even better. Meet me at 4ish?”

“Make it 4:30 and we’ve got a deal. See you then!” Click.

*****

Yaa walked out of the bathroom from her shower feeling renewed. Skin washed away of the little makeup that remained on her face from her...celebration from the previous night. Skin glowing thanks to the best shea butter Ghana had to offer. Locs looking healthy as always. Her glow increased when she saw Michael laying in her bed reading his phone but looking up when he sensed her presence. He stopped looking down at his phone to admire the beauty that was Khalida Abdullah.

Even in such a simple task as putting on clothes, Michael could see why her exes were head over heels with her. Every move she made was graceful. From the little twerk she did to get her chub into her light gray yoga capri pants, to the overhead jig to get into her oversized black monogrammed tank top with a gold fleur-de-lis. She walked to his side of the bed to retrieve her new Apple Watch from its charger. Before she could walk towards the door, he snatched her up onto the bed with him, playfully gnawing at her neck.

“Where you goin’ looking all good and delicious for, hmm?”, he implored.

“Well, Kari, I’m meeting someone for coffee. It ain’t your business who gon’ be there, either.”, she answered with sass.

“I see. Secondly, who gave you this trash ass Saints shirt? I need to get you at least two Falcons shirts.”

She escaped from his grip and returned a sour look. A record scratched in her head. “I-I-I’m sorry. I SLEPT WITH A FUCKING FALCONS FAN?! MY FAMILY RAISED ME BETTER THAN THIS!”

“Oh, you some super fan or something?”, he questioned.

“I’m surprised Tanisha didn’t tell you. Have you know, one, my family holds minority stake in the organization, making us minority owners, and two, my first boyfriend and best friend to this day is a proud SUPER BOWL-WINNING Saint. Now if you excuse me, I have to rush to my meeting and go reclaim my dignity.”,she bragged as she walked out of the door. But before she could walk out of door, she poked her head through the door and flipped him off.

“You so fucking CHILDISH, Khalida!”

BEAN BEVERLY HILLS, 2:19 P.M.

Yaa had accomplished many things in her life, from graduating college at 18 to receiving 4 degrees before turning 25, but nothing was as nerve-wrecking as meeting up with Winston. Let’s face it: their last meeting left such a distaste in her mouth.

Her left Chaco tapped softly yet persistently against the dark hardwood floors, while the right rested underneath her bottom.With one hand rested against her warm cup of honey-sweetened hibiscus tea and the other texting Tanisha for guidance into this awaited meeting, she attempted to clear her mind of the past and concern herself with the future. Would he be on that bullshit again? Will I have to smack a bitch? Has he decided to grow up? Does he look dusty? She looked out of the window and zoned out as she watched Beverly Hills slowly wake up after the wild night everyone had.

“Khalida?”, Winston called loud enough to pull his ex-girlfriend out of her daze. She shook her head and looked up to lock eyes with her former lover.

“Hey, hey!”, she greeted. She slowly got up and limped two steps to hug him. It was almost like they’d never skipped a beat. For a moment in time, it felt like they were the only people in the coffee shop, which if you exclude the employees and maybe three other people scattered around the shop, they were. Bitch, get offa him. He spazzed on you, remember?

Immediately upon having the thought, she separated from him and she gestured for him to sit. “So, I might’ve ordered a blueberry scone or two for you. I’m pretty sure you’ve put yourself on some depressing ass diet, but treat yourself.” Almost if on cue, the barista placed a small pink box in front of Winston, along with a caramel latte.

“You didn’t have to do that, but I appreciate it.”, Winston acknowledged. The two shared a nervous laugh and got themselves comfortable in their seats. The tension between could have been cut with a cleaver; so much could’ve been said, after all. The two looked at each in an attempt to find their words.

“I wanna apol-”

“Sorr-”

“You firs-

“No, you fir-”

“Gotdammit! Somebody finna fuckin talk out of sync.”, Yaa finally said by herself. “Guess I’ll start. Lemme cut to the chase—why are we here?” She sipped on her tea as she waited for his answer.

He pondered before speaking, “Well, first, I just want to apologize for acting like...being an ass a few months back. I wasn’t in my right mind in that relationship. Michelle was a nightmare after that night and we broke it off not even a week after our last meeting. I tried to call you, but I’m more than you confident you blocked my number. Hell, I don’t blame you. Now, I called you on a fluke last night and after analyzing what I said and even getting some choice words from my mom, I was wondering if your offer for friendship was still on the table? I messed up twice, and I don’t want to do lose you anymore.”

Yaa looked around the coffee shop and firmly gripped his chin to get a better look at him. “Is this the same Winston that I saw a few months ago? I’m almost afraid to hear the answer.”

WInston grimaced from the pain shooting to his jaw. Though small, Yaa’s hands had strength, or “country strength”, as she called it from years of herding large animals and even people. “Woman, I need to resize your strength.” Winston moved his jaw from her grip and moved it from side to side to alleviate the pain. “If we’re being transparent, I cried just about every night thinking about how I treated you when we broke up. I’m pretty sure I’m the biggest idiot for allowing a woman such as yourself to walk out twice. At this point, I just want us to be back on good terms.”

“Don’t fucking play with me, Winston. Are you sure? Is this what you truly want?”

“Yes. I just miss you. Aside from the romantic aspect, I just miss the little things, like your random calls in the middle of the day about some tea you just got, your spirit, and even getting cursed out by you.” Poor Winston. Though she knew his sincerity, Yaa found it hard to believe his sap story. If he could help it, he would’ve been on his knees pleading for a second chance.

Yaa’s face was unreadable—stoic, yet unreadable. It was a face that was over apologies and all for corrected behavior. A face that was finding itself conflicted with two men. Deep down, she wanted to be back with Winston. After all, he was her true love. But true love is tested. The plane needed to be taken apart, diagnosed, and rebuilt in order for it to be cleared for service. Everything was sounding good, too good to be believed without doubt. Yet, she still felt the urge to suplex Winston for crumbling her heart and her feelings back in June.

Khalida sipped the rest of her tea before breaking the painful silence built between her and her pitiful ex, “Do you want me?”

“What? Of course, Khalida! What are you talking about?”, Winston replied confused and taken aback from the question. Khalida chuckled—shoulders and all—as she nodded her head.

“No,no, no, baby boy. Do you want me? As in a your lifelong partner, forever and always? Not just in the physical or in lust, but as your better half, trusted confidant, your No Limit Soldier, ya yeah wit da yeah? How we should be instead of how we used to be?”

Winston paused to word his answer, “...Yes. You shouldn’t even have to ask me that question.”

“Well, if you want me, then you have to earn me.”

“Obviously, Olivia Pope, but you make it seem easier said than done. How do I earn you back?”

“Stick with me for a moment. You remember that plane analogy I used in Louisiana?” He nodded. “Aight, so boom: right now, the plane is completely outta service, y’eardme? The best way to have it back in service is to completely dismember the plane—start from scratch. Next, we gotta find the parts of the plane that caused the malfunction. We get better parts and rebuild, bit by bit. Soon, we’ll have an improved plane that’s better than the old plane. The crew’s gotten more experience, been with other pilots and co-pilots, and next inspection, the plane will be ready for service. It’s not an overnight process, but we’ll get through it. So...are you in?”

Winston offer his hand to shake on the new agreement, an offer in which Yaa accepted, along with a hug. “To new beginnings. A clean slate. Let’s start: I’m Winston. You are?”

Yaa snorted, “Khalida,but you can call me Yaa.” They shook hands once more, sharing a laugh. The laugh led to two genuine smiles. Their hearts skipped beats as they saw each other’s smiles.

“So...I’ve been meaning to ask, what or who’s got you glowing like this? There’s only so much Shea butter in the world…”, Winston inquired as he stirred the remainder of his caramel latte.

Yaa’s mind flashed back to nearly 12 hours ago when she was calling God’s name more than Kirk Franklin and the Family. Mental vignettes of Yaa and Michael moaning and the sound of skin slapping flashed throughout her mind, causing her to re-adjust her sitting position in her seat.

“I...I...uh…met someone last night. Everything happened so fast. Once the smoke clears and we establish something or the lack thereof, I’ll tell you more about him.”, Yaa stopped herself from turning flush.

While he smiled, Winston felt a small part of him die, but he realized that it was only fair that she get her shot of a relationship. But he knew her and the person she was—she was the prototype. Any man or woman would be stupid to not fall for her in some way. His smile widened as he locked eyes with her. Oh, how he’d missed that look.

The two began catching up about life beyond the romantic aspect. The basic “how ya momma nem?” conversations. After that, they walked about of the coffee shop, but not before he helped her out of her stiffened position from the seat. They hugged once more before going their separate ways. Not even 10 feet away, he turned to speak again. “I’m sorry.”

“You just apologized like 20 minutes ago, moe.”, Yaa yelled.

“No.”, he closed the distance between them, “I’m sorry for not knowing how to be a decent boyfriend to you. You’re a special woman with who needs a special man in her life. I know I’m that man, but just not right now. Whoever he or she is that you met last night, I hope they understood that the moment they laid eyes on you and plan accordingly. I wish I did when I met you. Sorry...I just needed to get that off of my chest.” By this time, his large hands enrobed her small hands and he hadn’t realized it. When he did, he promptly removed them.

“It’s ok, love. Today was fun. I gotta bounce, but be safe and have a happy new year.” She walked to her rental Prius and honked at him as she passed him.

He chuckled to himself as he walked to his car, “Oh, I will, Dr. Duke, I will.”

MY LIST, MY LIST, BETTER THAN YO LIST!!

@muse-of-mbaku @kumkaniudaku @eriknutinthispoosy @whoramilaje @mbakusthrone @mbakuwife @crushed-pink-petals @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @jackburtonsays @randomwordprompts @bartierbakarimobisson @wakandan-flowerz @blackpantherreblogs @babygirlofwakanda @eerythingisshaka @washyourlinens @turn-thy-paige @doublesidedscoobysnacks @wakandas-vibranium @oceanscorazon @oshasimone @destinio1 @sonofnjobu @teheeboo @sarahboseman @iamrheaspeaks @chaneajoyyy @lovelynervouschaos @cay-cah @coonflix @katasstrophey @mareethequeen @jozigrrl @great-neckpectations @thememoireeofme @forgottenthoughtsandmemories @ljstraightnochaser @jellybean531 @yofavcocoa @storibambino @maya-leche @blackgirloneshots @royallyprincesslilly @texasbama @certifiednatural @abeautifulmindexposed

[my-love-peterp]

Mistaken Chapter Five

IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST DROP ME AN ASK

please like and rb/comment <3

Word Count: 2721 (this actually comprises chapters 7 and 8 on Ao3)

THERE ARE NO ENDGAME SPOILERS, THIS IS A DELAYED UPLOAD FROM AO3

Fic Summary: Peter Parker has been given the responsibility of bringing in a new recruit. Now, as an adult, he realizes that none of the trashy YA novels he read in high school could have prepared him for this. There was a storm on the horizon, and all they could do from the Tower is watch.

Chapter Summary: Lol updating within a few hours after weeks of not updating at all? It’s more likely than you think. HOnestly, not my finest work but I’m so tired and I feel so bad about not getting anything out there sooner. I want to change bits and pieces of this story but my goodness, yeah. So if you’d like to Beta read shit for me, y’all would be much appreciated.

Warnings: honestly idk, if I missed something besides language hmu friends

Chapter One   Chapter Two   Chapter Three   Chapter Four

I ran. There was no stopping me. I stole a cowl from a closet and drifted into the shadows, just long enough to leap from the window.

I materialized and flitted down back alleys until I hit Park Ave. I didn’t know much about this area of New York, but every borough has their drinking holes, right?

Minutes later, I was staggering into a quaint little bar that wasn’t quite the dive that I was looking for, but it would do. This was probably better in any case, fewer leering eyes and a hefty, red-haired, Irish woman who kept my drink full and men away.

Hydra was just one of the many skeletons rattling around in my closet, but they were the Rosetta Stone to my trauma in a lot of ways. Not the foundation, but the guide.

Two more glasses of Lagavulin and those pressing thoughts were kicked to the wayside.

Behind me, the grandfather clock chimed five o’clock. Just call me Jimmy Buffet and saddle me up with a margarita.

What no amount of alcohol could do, unfortunately, was erase the people I’d… met with Hydra. Or lost with them. Most of all, I could never forget my sister.

Brave and stupid drunk, I left my drinking post and headed down Park Avenue rather aimlessly. It felt like I was being drawn in a certain direction, meant to be there, which is absolutely absurd, but I was just drunk enough to believe it.

My feet halted half an hour later outside of a quaint little tattoo parlor. I’d always wanted a tattoo but I’d never had the time nor the money to get one. Fortunately, as a runaway Avenger-in-Training, I had both of those in spades now.

And, as fate would have it, the shop was advertising that they were available for walk-ins today.

Whipping out my new cell phone, I pulled up a picture of what exactly I wanted. My sister and I had always fancied we'd get matching ones someday.

The overly muscled and extremely tattooed man just nodded his ascent and began freehanding a design for the Phoenix on my right side. I was decently numbed from the booze, but as time passed, the more my sides protested in pain. Occasionally, I would feel a quick rush of air push cold wind over my aching skin and nearly groan in pleasure.

Finally, three hours later, I was gingerly easing my shirt back on, sides to be kept wrapped for the next hour or so, in case they started bleeding or weeping plasma and ink.

I stood, signed my name along the dotted line for the payment and stepped out on the street to find none other than Pietro standing, back resting against the side of the building with his arms crossed, obviously waiting for me.

Rather than acknowledge his presence, I moved to hail a taxi. He took that moment to wrap his arms around my middle, sending bolts of pain shooting from my fresh tattoos, and bolted down the street.

Fate, should it exist, obviously had a sense of humor. Minutes later, we were standing in the lobby of Avengers Tower.

Hesitantly, I moved for the elevator doors, wincing with every step as it pulled along my aching muscles, both from the walking and the movement of inked flesh. Pietro followed loosely behind me, as I anticipated. Once he had retrieved me, he certainly wasn’t going to let me escape. He was perhaps the one Avenger I couldn’t simply evade or trick, his eyes caught things as though they were moving half the speed they actually were.

An uncomfortable silence ensued as Pietro pressed the button to take us up to the Penthouse, the de facto floor for team meetings.

Despite receiving an equal number of concerned and suspicious glances, most of the team paid me little to no mind.

Peter gestured to Pietro, eyes questioning, and nods were exchanged. What I wouldn’t give to be able to hear what they were thinking. And maybe it was vain of me to assume that they’d been communicating about me, but I was almost positive.

Lost in my reverie, I almost missed the command Cap gave to Wanda to put me under. I hadn’t even taken a step by the time I was falling to the ground, unconscious, caught in lean arms.

It would be the best rest I’d get for weeks to come.

________________________________________________________________

I woke up in my own rooms, restrained to the bed. What had happened was fairly obvious, considering the only person who was in my rooms besides me was Tony. And he had an Iron Gauntlet trained on me as I came to. I hacked to clear my throat before speaking. “Seems like a bit of overkill Grandpa.”

Tony just glared down at me, not moving a single inch or softening in any way.

I tried again. “So I take it Witchy rummaged around in my head and found some… Not so savory things. Perhaps my stint as a Hydra assassin. Maybe the length of my kill list even. Let me guess, you’re currently prepping a room for me at whatever new and improved raft you built to keep Thanos locked up and never coming back. Fair warning, I’ll never go willingly and I can put up one hell of a fight.”

“Fortunately for you, that decision’s not up to me and would require the input of the feds, which, knowing what we do now, I can fairly certainly say, you’d prefer if they stayed out of it. 12 US government officials assassinated in less than three months by yours truly. Wow. Talk about a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Were I not a better man, I’d shoot you right now.”

“So why are you here Tony, if not to kill me?” I snarled back at him. “What good does me being alive do? To anyone.” That startled him a little bit, shell shocked enough to look up and into my eyes, where I saw my own feral irises reflected.

But he steeled himself again within moments. And then, out of the breast pocket of his blue blazer, he grabbed a sheet of paper.

Not a sheet of paper I realized as he folded it out for me. A picture of a skinny redheaded woman. One I recognized intimately. “Target 17. What do you need to know?” I questioned coldly, unfeeling. That made him jerk backward in his seat and hastily stand, panting and heaving, murderous intent glinting in his brown eyes.

“Her name was Pepper. And she was killed three days before our wedding, carrying my child. So I’d like to know. Was it-,“ he spat out like the words were physically fighting to escape from his body.

“Was it me? No. I was in the wind with my sister for a few months after our covers were almost blown taking out a diplomat in Indonesia. For what it’s worth, I truly am sorry Tony. Especially,” I said, voice dropping to a whisper, “about your son.”

“Excuse me, my what?” Fists clenched, he strode up to the side of my bed, closer to my head. I shied away from him as he bent down and got into my face. “What did you just say to me?”

Fuck. He didn’t know and I just made it ten times worse. The sound of his repulsor charging broke the most pregnant silence I’d ever heard. Before he could fire, though, Thor and Steve burst through the door and caught him as he collapsed in anguish, taking him away, leaving me alone. They knew everything about my time with Hydra. The evil I’d done and the evil I’d allowed to happen. I was the enemy. And I had no backup.

So back to normal.

Hours later, I gave in to my bone-deep weariness and collapsed into sleep. Dream after fever dream encased my drained mind, ephemeral and diaphanous. Most images were forgotten immediately, flighty and fragile as a butterfly’s wing. Others though, others stuck like mosquitos stuck in amber. Flashes.

Light, blood, destruction. Tattooed stars and deep, harrowing scars on ragged faces. Sobbing little boys with green eyes and silky hair.

Despite the intense lunacy and deep feeling of realness, I felt while dreaming, I was aware of a deep, striking pain within myself. It settled in my chest, buried deep, as though I’d replaced my stomach with Mjolnir. The ache was both sharp and dull, full and waning. It signaled that a harsh reality awaited me in the waking world. When I was dreaming it was like the pain had no anchor, no reason for tormenting me, as hapless and defenseless as a newly hatched bird.

When I’m half-awake, like I am now, I know why the pain is here, understand the presence of gut-wrenching guilt and searing hot shame and thus can accept them. I’m not sure which is worse to experience.

Sometimes I’m fully awake, being handed crackers or grapes or bottles of water by a person whose name I don’t know because I’m never cognizant long enough to catalog their face. Seconds later, I’m again drowning, pulled into the depths of my dreamscape.

My reality blurs and the cycle continues, vicious unto the end. And every time I wake, my cheeks are embarrassingly wet. It feels like weeks before I’m awake long enough to realize I’m not alone. That every time I wake, a new face is staring back at me from a different chair in my room.

I come to recognize them again in time. Wanda, Pietro, Bucky, Steve, Vision, even Peter. But never Tony.

I sit up for the first time after what feels like a month, though the limited aching emanating from my bones tells me, logically, that it’s only been a fraction of that time. One either side of my bed is a Maximoff. Wanda looks more concerned than wary. Pietro looks like a lion who caught the scent of an enemy pride.

“Go slowly Kaida,” Wanda urges, “you must be weak. It’s been a few days since you rejoined the land of the living. Her continued inquiries and entreaties fall on deaf ears. As vulgar as it now sounds in retrospect, I knew I had to move or else an accident would occur. I stumbled into my en suite, knowing even without needing to look that they would have removed anything that would have made a suitable weapon.

I also know that, should my biology betray any sign of shifting to make use of my abilities, F.R.I.D.A.Y. would alert the others and the full might of the Avengers would fall upon my head. And Wanda would have me back out in seconds. What couldn’t be stopped of measured for, of course, were things such as my superhuman hearing, that was currently picking up on the muffled conversation the twins were having in my bedroom on the other side of the bedroom door.

“Why are you blocking FRIDAY, we should be alerting the others that the prisoner is awake and ready for their attention.”

“Pietro! She’s not our prisoner,” Wanda reprimanded. “Besides, I wish to have a moment alone with the girl. Even if she is not a child of Strucker, she is what Hydra made her to be, somehow. I just… I’d like for her to have a sympathetic listener at first. We never got the benefit of the doubt. If you remember we weren’t exactly unwilling in our crusade against the Avengers.”

Pietro just grunted in agreement but remained tense at his sister's side. I quickly twisted off the faucet and reentered the bedroom. Rather than speak, Wanda simply patted the seat of the chair across from hers, indicating that I should take a seat. It was the gentlest command ever issued. I slid back until my shoulders brushed the high back of the chair.

Wanda opened her mouth to speak, but I cut her off with a gesture of my hands. I leaned forward, extending my head towards her.

“Just look, let my mind answer your questions. I don’t know that I’d have the strength to or that we’d have the time before the others come charging in. If I’m going to die, I need at least one person to know and believe the truth. Maybe help persuade Captain Rogers to end my life swiftly. It’s more than I deserve.”

With that Wanda, eyes shining, placed her hands on my temples and breathed deeply as we were both transported to an infinitely darker place, many years ago.

Sinking through my memories was like drifting uncontrollably through a minefield. Tiny bursts of anguish shot through my mind as Wanda relived my upbringing with my sister, the house of horrors that was our home, being tapped to join Hydra and agreeing without ‘persuasion'. The missions, targets and our downfall. My sister's son. And finally, the mission that sent us both running for the hills...

The time since then. One dead-end job to another, sisters working to support each other, all while looking for the last remaining piece of our family. And, then that day had come. The snap and dust. Guilt flooding me and overwhelming a sense of horror as time passed.

Homeless until my… boyfriend. The horror that home turned into, one that I do still feel as though I deserved. Until one night he went too far and I left. The night Peter found me. Of course in the midst of all this, you had my ‘heroics' that mostly consisted of helping women out of situations I understood all too well. And that damned school. So Peter was looking for me at the behest of the Avengers after the most recent event had even landed on the front page of the New York Times.

My deeply buried need to have somewhere to call home, to have not just someone on my six but to have a family. All the emotions that Hydra and I, through my conditioning at their hands, thought of as compromising and weak.

I had agreed, understanding that I could play the role of Asset for the good guys for once, maybe correct some of the horrific circumstances I had had a hand in creating. My mission would be protecting others for the first time. Only in my wildest dreams had I imagined I'd ever have a family again, but they had begun to feel like home, in spite of the secrets I kept. Now that was ruined. That was inevitable, I reminded myself. Because of who I am, I could never have a family. I didn't deserve one.

“No,” Wanda said, interrupting our shared stream of thoughts, "not ruined, just a little, broken. They accepted us in time." Pietro nodded, eyes alighting on his sister and then on me. Curiosity burned in his soul-deep gaze. He leaned forward and used his abnormally large hand and rough fingers to cover his sister's hand, which I just realized was now twined in mine.

Connected like this, I felt the smallest flicker of hope come to life in me, setting my heart aflutter. Understanding and acceptance filled their eyes and I did tear up a little. I never expected this.

“You are not the monster your parents created. Nor the asset that Hydra trained. You are more than that Kaida. Let us help you find it. Find yourself.”

I nodded, leaning into her embrace as she gripped me by the shoulders and kissed my cheek.

At Wanda’s urging, I stepped into the shower, running my hand through my hair as nearly a week’s worth of grime was stripped off my body. I think it was safe to say that I’d never felt more confused and well, vulnerable in my life.

For the time being, I didn’t have a mission or a purpose. My handler, or the surrogate my mind had appointed was questionable at best now that all had been revealed. I didn’t like being left to my own mind and devices. Too many thoughts would rattle around inside my head. After a few hours, the twins left again, gentle eyes and kind reassurances.

Later and not seconds after my stomach rumbled with a fierceness I had forgotten it had, my door opened and a tray of food entered, held by Bucky, the Winter Soldier.

A/N: I’m uploading another chapter tonight that I am formatting and scheduling right flipping now so I don’t flake again. Really pumped for the new fic I’m starting though!

taglist: @peeterparkr @laurfangirl424 @private-bucky-barnes

[jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets]

Lost in Translation

Title: Lost in Translation

Fandom: Star Trek

Pairing: Mckirk

Rating: Explicit

Tags: minor character death, hurt, little bit of self destruction, stranded, possible smut down the line, new addition... there will be fluff!!

Summary:

    “Attention citizens. This is the crew of the Enterprise asking for your aid. On Stardate 2264.78 a shuttle manned by our captain and fourteen cadets was ambushed by an unknown source and chased out of sight of our ship and into open space. Those cadets as well as our captain, James Tiberius Kirk, are still missing. We are asking anyone with any information on their whereabouts, or regarding the attack, to please contact the Enterprise immediately. Our family would appreciate any assistance you can give.” 

AO3 Link

Masterlist

Special Thanks: wanted to give a huge shout out to my girl Katie, AKA @goingknowherewastaken for being a huge inspiration for this fic as well as for being a huge help (especially when it comes to putting up with my frantic ramblings lol) you're awesome boo <3

A/N: So this is a work in progress but it’s basically finished and I’ve been making great headway with this recently, so this will be the first fic I’ve ever finished! Woohoo!! And I'm thinking that I’ll probably stick to a Sunday post schedule.

    Also a little note for y’all to keep in mind while reading. I have tagged this fic “possible eventual smut” and that’s because right now I don’t have any planned buuuuut… I'm going to leave that option up to you guys! Between the readers here and AO3, if you're still with me by the end of this fic, leave a comment and let me know if you would be interested in an epilogue or end scene with smut. I’ll post a reminder at the end, but keep it in mind while reading.

    And if anyone is interested in being tagged for future posts for this fic or any others I may post, please let me know and I’ll add you to the list! Thanks for reading <3

Chapter 4:

    The storm was raging, and had been now for almost two full days and nights. Now on day three of the torrential down pour Jim was at his wits end. Still with an injured knee, he limped around their crappy shelter as best he could while attempting to patch it up. There were holes everywhere it seemed, and he had run out of shuttle scraps to use for repairs. Water was coming into the shelter from every angle, the ground beneath them was soaked, his already suffering cadets were shivering and with injuries so bad he couldn’t risk moving them, and he was sure his worst fear was coming true.

    After last night’s winds and brutal drop in temperature, two of his young cadets had woken late that day with deep, chesty coughs. Pneumonia. And what could he do about it? Nothing, absolutely nothing, not a god damn thing and he hated himself for it. He had tried to get his cadets off the ground as best he could, tried to keep them warm and dry, but one man could not fight the endless amounts of rain this storm was throwing at them. And it seemed, from what Jim could see, there was no end in sight.

    After one last failed attempt at fixing more holes, Jim ducked into the shelter to check on his crew. They were holding on, they had been for ten days so far, but who knew how much longer that would last. The two cadets who had definitely come down with pneumonia were still coughing, struggling to breathe in the driest corner of the shelter. And of the other five, three were in and out of consciousness, and the last two were more then likely going to be fighting infections as bad as Colten’s was. 

    With nothing more he could do, he pulled himself to lean against the back wall of the shelter. He leaned his head back against the cold metal, the sound of the rain hammering on the metal scraps of their shelter drowning out his worries for the time being. He allowed sleep to take him in hopes that tomorrow would bring the familiar faces of his bridge crew, and the handsome doctor he found himself craving more and more each day. As his eyes slowly closed he thought about strong hands on his face, arms wrapping tightly around him and pulling him close, firm fingers running through his hair as a melodic chant of “Jim, Jim I'm here, it’s ok,” drawled in a sweet southern accent pushed him closer to sleep. And just before his eyes closed completely, a whispered, “Bones…” left his lips and he was finally asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~

    “Captains log, Stardate 2264.89. Last night was probably the best sleep I have had since the crash. I had hoped that perhaps today would bring better fortunes for me and my remaining crew, but unfortunately it was exactly the opposite. Some time in the night we lost two more members. Cadet Owen McDouglas had not only injuries from the crash, but possible pneumonia as well. And Cadet Obnerick Niich, I know he had some pretty bad injuries, but the actual cause of his death I am afraid I will never know. He was one of the members I thought might make it through to rescue. His injuries were not as severe as most others, yet he was gone before I woke up this morning…”

    Jim was sitting at the edge of the shelter, looking out into the haze of rain still pouring from the sky above. He was cold, fed up, angry, and soaking wet. All he wanted was to get to the ship, to beam aboard and head straight for his best friend, to Bones, to home. But he had no way of getting there, no way of getting any sort of signal to them, or communication. Getting home was looking more and more like it was never going to happen.

    “I hope that the admirals…” he stopped, shaking his head. At this point who cared what the admirals thought, he certainly didn’t. If they ever found the wreckage and his comm, Jim wasn’t making these logs for them, he was making them for Bones. Yeah, the admirals would want to know what happened to him and each individual crew member that passed in their time on the planet, but that didn’t mean they actually gave a rats ass about any of them, but Bones would. Bones would not only want to know what had happened, but would care about what happened to him. And if anyone knew that grump of a doctor it was Jim, and he knew that Bones would not give up until something was found. And if the only thing he found was this comm, then Jim was going to make sure that Bones knew he was thinking of him too. “You know what, I don’t give a damn what the admirals think. Bones… I'm sorry for this, for all of it. But I want you to know that I'm not sorry that you weren’t on this shuttle with me, things are bad down here, really bad. Most of my fourteen are either dead or… or dying, and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if that was you, Bones.”

    Jim reached up with his free hand to wipe away a stray tear before continuing, “But I'm not giving up yet. I’ve still got five cadets counting on me, and I know you won’t let me go so easily. If I can count on anyone in this galaxy, it’s you, Bones. I know you'll find me…”

~~~~~~~~~~~

    “Captains log, Stardate 2264.9-” Jim paused, he felt like he couldn’t breathe let alone finish his sentence. Fourteen days in, fourteen days shipwrecked on this so far deserted planet, fourteen days of hell he wished he never had to experience. All he wanted was the ship, the crew, Bones… he wanted Bones more then he could express, and fourteen days in he was starting to seriously worry that he would never see him again.

    With as calming of a breath as he could manage, he wiped the wetness from his eyes and tried to continue, “Bones… I lost them, I lost them all. I failed every single one of these cadets, our family, I failed our family, Bones!” His voice gave way as the sobs began to take over his entire body. “Cadet M’haka, Cadet Nyara Blanir, Cadet Liam Tyler, Cadet Blake Shaw, and Cadet Dierdra Graff… the last of my crew gone. Some perished from their wreck injuries, others from pneumonia, and a few from I don’t even know what, but I know you could have saved them, Bones.”

    He looked out across the endless empty in front of him, the storm still raging on with no end in sight as he spoke again, “It’s been… fourteen days now since the crash, the storm is still going on, I'm cold, wet, hungry, home sick… alone. I have yet to see any sign of life, no species of any kind, and now with all of my fourteen crew members gone… I'm completely alone, Bones.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

    For the next three days Jim slept. There was really nothing more he could do. He had no more cadets relying on him for aid, the rain was still hammering down on the shelter, seeping through the cracks and running like a river underneath him. He was soaked through to his core and if something didn’t give soon, he was going to be this storms next victim. But four days later he woke to warmth on his skin, a small ray of sunshine came sneaking through one of the cracks in the shelter landing on his face.

    He stretched into it, let his cold skin absorb the welcome heat. Slowly he crawled out of the shelter and into the sun that was already high in the sky above him. Once outside he laid on his back, arms out wide and revelled in the humid air breathing it in deep. Finally, finally his shivering would stop, his clothes would be dry for the first time in days, and his skin could return to its normal non-wrinkled texture. The ground beneath him was already dry and back to its desert like state, but he couldn’t be happier to finally see the sand covered ground surrounding him.

    After what felt like hours of just laying in the sun, Jim sat up and faced the shelter. A pang of guilt and sorrow hit his chest hard, hindering his breathing as he thought about the fourteen bodies inside. He had to face it, there was no getting home for them. There would be no bodies to burry if he was ever found, no closure for their families, no peace for his cadets, hell, no one may ever even know what happened to any of them but what was he supposed to do about it? What could he do? With every fibre of his being he wished with everything he had that he could give them the peace and closure that they all deserved and it killed him that now he wouldn’t be able to do that, or at the very least inform their families of their bravery in the face of death.  

    Bones would know what to do, he thought as he sat up wrapping his arms tightly around his knees, Bones always knows what to do. But Bones wasn’t there, and Jim had to do something. Not only did he have his cadets to think about, but he was also now completely out of food and almost out of water. If he didn’t come up with some kind of plan he would be joining the cadets soon enough. All protocol stated to stay where you were, to never leave the original site if you were lost or wrecked, but he was starting to think that he wouldn’t have much choice soon.

    He looked around himself, seeing desert in every direction. Not a single tree or bush anywhere in between, not even a blade of grass, aside from a small mountain to his right. It was a fair distance away, and he could potentially spend a few days crossing the desert to get to it, especially on a wrecked knee. But there was the potential of finding a water source up there as well as hope that there could be something more on the other side. Maybe people, something he could eat, someone who could help. Normally he wouldn’t take the risk, but at this point he didn’t see any other option.

    He reached into his pocket and took out his comm. “Captains… captains log, Stardate 2264.96. Bones, I know it’s against protocol but I’ve decided I have to move on. The storm finally stopped this morning and I can’t stay here and wait to die. I… I'm out of food, I barely have any water tablets left, and that mountain to the right seems to be the best option. I'm hoping that at the very least I can find water and maybe some better shelter, and maybe there’s more to this planet on the other side of the mountain. If I could find some kind of food that would be great, then at least I could survive a bit longer, and if I could find people, hopefully people advanced enough to help, that would be a miracle. So far the only thing that’s on this side of the mountain is desert. But… leaving the cadets here, it feels wrong, Bones, though I can’t exactly take them with me. I’ve already let them down and now I don’t know what to do.”

    Jim moved the comm away from his mouth, staring again into the shelter at his cadets. A soft wind had started to blow through, cooling the already sweltering heat. When the wind hit the shelter his eyes darted to a piece of metal that began bouncing around, causing a loud bang to linger across the desert. The piece of metal was hanging on by a thread, it must have been dislodged some time during the storm and Jim hadn’t noticed until now. He watched it flap back and forth, continuing to crash into the metal pieces underneath it, and finally Jim had an idea.

    He forced himself up on weak legs, already shaking from lack of food, and slowly limped his way over to the broken piece of the shelter.

~~~~~~~~~~~

    Leonard placed the padd on the table beside Jim's bed, more like slammed it down. What little resolve he had left was gone, he couldn’t hold back the tears any longer and let them take over. Eighteen days and Jim was now alone, the Enterprise at this point was no where even close to finding him, and it was starting to sound like Jim was giving up on the ship and even himself.

    Jim had grieved for the cadets he lost, kids, and so did Leonard. Fourteen young and promising lives gone, but Leonard also grieved for Jim. He knew that if anything had happened to any of those kids while they were missing, Jim would blame himself. Even if there was absolutely nothing he or anyone else in his situation could have done, Jim would blame himself entirely, and now he was blaming himself for the deaths of fourteen cadets. He could hear it in his voice, they way he spoke about their loss, about letting them down, failing them. He knew that even though Jim was here, in this room with him, body warm under his touch, that a small part of him died on that planet along with those kids, and now Leonard grieved for it. If Jim woke up this would be a hard bump to get over.

    The door creaked open then, and without looking up he knew who it was. “Spock.”

  “Doctor.” He came inside and closed the door behind him. He could see that Leonard was crying, that he was holding Jim's hand and running his thumb melodically across his fingers, and that he had abandoned the padd behind him on the table. “Have you finished the logs, Doctor?”

    Leonard shook his head, gripping Jim's hand tighter in his, “I can’t Spock,” he whispered, not looking at the Vulcan, “I can’t finish them.”

    “You must,” Spock spoke not with an air of authority, but an almost plea, which Leonard had never heard in the Vulcan's voice before. “I know this is difficult for you, I listened to the Captain’s logs as well. But I assure you, all will come together in the end, Doctor. If anything, you must finish them for Jim.”

    Without so much as another word Spock silently slipped from the room. Leonard heard the soft click of the door and Spock's steady footsteps leaving the sickbay, then reached back to grab the padd. He let it sit in his lap for a while before he tapped the screen and brought up the next log. Turned out, the next ship log that fell in line with Jim's logs, was one of his.

    He looked at the stardate on the log, the same stardate as Jim's last log. Eighteen days of no Jim, of searching the stars and endless planets for him and the cadets, and coming up empty handed every time. Leonard remembered the feeling of hope that would rise in him every time Spock would take a landing party to the surface of a new planet, the anxiety he would feel for the hours or sometimes days they would spend searching the surface, and the gut wrenching heartbreak he would feel when Spock would walk into the sickbay and shake his head. Every time Leonard would find himself in the bathroom, huddled over the toilet and emptying what little was in his stomach. And it only got worse.

    With each passing day, and each Jim-less planet they searched, Leonard worried more and more that Jim was already lost. That they would never find him, or possibly find him dead. He didn’t know which was worse.

    “CMO’s log, Stardate 2264.96. It’s been eighteen days of searching every god forsaken planet we’ve come across and we haven’t found a god damn thing in this black hell hole up here. No sign of Jim or his shuttle, or the god damn idiots who attacked us in the first place. And now Jim's out there, in god knows what state, on some god damn planet, and surrounded by who knows what kind of bacteria and infectious diseases. And the damn med kit on that metal death trap he was in ain’t got nearly enough supplies for fifteen people to survive on for more then two weeks, and it’s been longer then that already! If we don’t find them soon then… damn it! We need to find him! I need the kid back more then I even knew, actually… maybe I did know, I just couldn’t say it. God, I wish I had… to hell with this! I need a drink.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Little more angst, and next is the chapter I’m pretty excited about.... the Bones centered chapter!! XD

But I also thought I’d let you guys know that I had a bit of a revelation this morning lol. While trying to update this fic for y’all I decided that I’m going to slightly alter the original path I had outlined for this. Not so much alter but rather add to. So, this fic is probably going to be a little longer then I originally anticipated, but who doesn’t love a good long Mckirk fic? lol Anyways, hope you guys enjoyed this update, hopefully more to come soon!! And as always your wonderful thoughts are always welcomed, and thanks for reading! <3

Tags: @goingknowherewastaken @bi-e-ne @medicatemedrmccoy @weresilver-in-space @resistance-is-futile81 @0dannyphantom0 @jimboy-mccoy @reading-in-moonlight @flaminglupine @haveyouseenmymind

[you-a-southpaw-doll]

Another One Bites The Dust (AOBTD) ~ Chapter 23

Warning(s): Explicit Language. Fluff - Negan’s being a soft boy! Angst. Mentions of infertility. Slight violence? (You’ll see what I mean at the end.) Slight time jump, but it’s explained in the story. 

Author’s Note(s):

Hey, y’all! Sorry for not posting a chapter update last week. I got a little tied up with my homework, since the semester ends in just a couple weeks.

If you wanna be added to my taglist, feel free to let me know and I’ll add you! :)

Taglist: @negans-network , @thamberlina , @prettyboynegan , @mychemicalimagines  @rockinkel21 @misskittycat02 , 

Previous Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.  Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-One. Twenty-Two.

Chapter 23 ~ Before You Start Your Day

Over the next few weeks, we settle into a rhythm. The doc still wants me on bedrest, so Tim and Jeffrey are the ones that get up in the middle of the night if one of the kids cry, or need to be changed. When they need to be fed, one of their fathers bring ‘em over to me, and I feed ‘em, burp ‘em, and just lie with ‘em.

Most nights, I fall asleep before my husbands do, with both of my kids tucked in on either side of me. Angel comes in and sits with her siblings when she doesn’t have to go to class and before bed. She’s excited to have both Rosie and Sammy in the family. 

I’ve heard stories of her running ‘round the Sanctuary, telling everyone ‘bout her baby brother and sister. Alyss stops by every day to check on me and the twins. We’ll play cards, board games, or do magic tricks. Whenever Negan gets back from a run, he’ll come back with my husbands to see the babies for a while before he and Alyss head to their room for the night.

Every morning before they head to do their stuff, Tim and Jeffrey both cuddle with me before checking on the kids and heading out. After about three weeks of bed rest, the doc finally clears me and gives me the all clear. This particular morning, I wake up before my husbands. 

I smile as I wake up cuddling the front of Tim’s body, my face tucked into his chest, with Jeffrey’s arms wrapped somewhat tightly ‘round my waist from behind. We’ve gotten to where we sleep with me in the middle, Jeffrey on the left side of the bed, and Tim on the right side. 

Some mornings I wake up facing Jeffrey with Tim behind me, other mornings are like today. The boys both say that sleeping like this makes it easier for ‘em to check on the kids. While that might be somewhat true, I know the real reason is ‘cause they both love having me in their arms as they sleep.

And, if I’m gonna be completely honest, sleeping like this makes me feel safe. I wiggle closer to Tim, which has Jeffrey grunting in his sleep and snuggling closer to me so that his chest’s still pressed to my back. I giggle before I kiss Tim’s chest, right above his heart. 

He mumbles something in his sleep and his arms tighten ‘round me. I feel a scruffy kiss against my shoulder blade, and look over at Jeffrey. He’s got his eyes barely open, and a sleepy smirk playing on his lips.

“Mornin’, doll.” He murmurs.

I giggle. “Mornin’, honey.”

His smirk gets bigger. I roll over, still staying in the arms of both my husbands, and face Jeffrey. I wiggle forward and kiss his forehead. His eyes drift close and his smirk turns into a sleepy smile.

“Go back to sleep, babe.” I whisper.

“But I like your kisses.” He replies with a big yawn.

I giggle and kiss his cheek. I decide to place a few more gentle kisses across his face – on his other cheek, his chin, and the tip of his nose. He lets out a quiet, playful growl and another yawn.

“Get some sleep.” I tell him again.

He yawns and nods his head. “Yes, ma’am.”

Just as he’s ‘bout to doze off again, I hear him mumble something. I smile as I realize what it is.

“I love you to the moon and back, sweetheart.”

“I love you too, honey. More than you’ll ever know.” I reply, even though I know he’s already back asleep.

I wiggle out of the safe embrace of my husbands and climb outta bed. I get dressed in a pair of blue jeans, one of Jeffrey’s black t-shirts, and Tim’s dark blue flannel shirt. I walk over to the basinet that has my kids in it. I look down at ‘em and smile, my heart swelling with love. 

They’re both awake, not making any noises, but rather, cuddling each other. They really are absolutely precious. I reach down and scoop Rosie up into my arms. Sammy’s bottom lip quivers, but he doesn’t make a sound. I lean down and kiss his forehead to soothe him.

He relaxes and I step away to change Rosie’s diaper. I know her name is Roselyn, but I love the nickname that Jeffrey gave her. Sammy got his nickname from Negan, and it just stuck. Once I have my little girl all cleaned up and in a new diaper and outfit, I set her back down in the basinet and pick Sammy up to repeat the process with him. 

After I’ve got him situated, I write a quick note for my husbands to read when they wake up.

My loves, I’ll be downstairs with the babies when y’all wake up. I wanna get outta the room for a bit. I love y’all so very much.

I place it by Tim’s beside table so he can see it when he wakes up. I don’t want ‘em to worry when they wake up and don’t see the twins and I in the room. I pick Rosie up, and get my kids situated in my arms. I walk outta the bedroom, and head downstairs to the dining area. 

I run into Simon on the third floor. He grins when he sees me.

“Leigh! It’s good to see you! How you feelin’?” He asks, falling into step with me.

“I’m feelin’ great. I’m glad I’m finally able to leave the room. Bein’ cooped up is not my strong suit.” I say.

He chuckles. “Well, it’s good to have you up and about. And to see the kiddos.”

I smile. “You sure do love ‘em, don’t you?”

“Yea. It’s good to have babies ‘round. Gives us hope and reminds us that there’s still good left in this fucked up world.”

“Simon! Language!” I tease. “There are little ears present.”

He laughs. “Sorry.”

I grin. “It’s ok. But, I get what you mean. Plus, they’re adorable!”

“Yea. They are.”

Simon and I joke around as we make our way down the rest of the stairs and into the dining area. He stands beside me as we wait in line to get some food. Suddenly, everyone in the room drops to their knees. Myself included, which is kind of a difficult task, considering my body is still a little sore, and I’ve got two infants in my arms. 

I hear the heavy footfall of boots as they walk closer to Simon and I.

“Shit, Half Pint. Stand up.” I hear Negan say.

I struggle to stand up, and I feel two strong hands help me up. I look up at Negan.

“You don’t have to kneel ‘round me, Half Pint. You know this.” He says, softly.

“Everyone else does.” I say.

“You’re not everyone else.”

Sammy decides to let out a wail, drawing Negan’s attention to him. I try to soothe my son, but it’s to no avail. My brother-in-law smiles as he looks down at his nephew. He looks up at me.

“Besides, you’ve got the kids with you.” He says. “You don’t kneel ‘round me. Period. ‘Specially when you’ve got these two little munchkins.”

“Ok, Negan.” I reply.

“Can I hold him?” He gestures to Sammy.

I nod. Negan happily scoops his nephew up in his arms, and cradles him. Sammy quiets down immediately as he nuzzles against the leather of his uncle’s jacket. Negan lets out a chuckle.

“Boss.” Simon says from beside me.

He’s still kneeling, and so is everyone else in the room.

“Shit.” Negan says before bellowing, “As you were!”

Everyone stands up again and the bustle of the kitchen gets back to what it was before Negan walked in. Negan stays beside Simon and I in line. The person in front of me in line turns to look back at the big boss man.

“Sir. You can go ahead of me. If you’d like.” The young man says with a shaky voice.

Negan chuckles. “I know, but I don’t want to.”

The young man’s brow furrows. “Sir?”

“I don’t want to move up in line this mornin’. I’ve got a cute little man in my arms. I want to spend some time with him, so I’m gonna wait.”

The young man smiles. “Yes, sir.”

He turns around. I look up at Negan, grinning and shaking my head. He looks at me, an amused expression on his face.

“What?” He asks, grinning.

I shake my head. “Nothing. You just love your nephew.”

“Damn fuckin’ straight I fuckin’ do!”

“Negan! Language!”

“Shit!”

“Negan!”

He laughs, but looks regretful. “Sorry, Half Pint.”

“Mmhhmm. You’re not really sorry, are you?”

He shrugs. “Kind of? I know you don’t want us cussing ‘round the youngins, and I’ll respect your wishes, but eventually, they’re gonna hear me cuss.”

I laugh. “You’re right. I still accept your apology.”

He grins. “Thanks.”

I smile, shaking my head. He drops his head to look at Sammy. I look down at Rosie and notice that she’s just looking up at me. I see Negan jump slightly as he stands beside me. I look and notice that Alyss has come up behind him and wrapped her arms ‘round him. 

She rests her head against his back.

“Hey, pretty boy.” She says to him.

The smile on his face gets bigger. “Hi, sweetheart.”

She moves to stand in front of him. She smiles as soon as she sees me with Rosie in my arms. She gives me a light hug.

“Hey, kiddo.” She says.

“Hey, bud.” I reply. “Hey. Can you do me a favor?”

She nods. “Of course.”

“Will you hold Rosie for a just a sec?”

Alyss grins and happily takes my daughter. We move up in line. I stretch my arms out, and fix Tim’s flannel. I reach for my daughter, and Alyss pouts, but hands her over. I chuckle. Within a few minutes, we reach the food, and wait for our trays. 

I watch as Negan grabs a tray with one hand and keeps Sammy tucked against his chest with his other hand. I go to grab a tray, but Alyss snags it for me before I can.

“I got you, kid. You just hold onto Rosie.” She says.

I smile. “Thanks, bud.”

She grins and nods as she grabs a tray for herself. Once Simon has a tray, we all go sit at the table in the back corner of the dining area. Negan likes to sit back here so he can keep an eye on things while he eats. Alyss sits beside him, and Simon sits beside me across from my best friend and brother-in-law. 

Negan cradles Sammy with his left arm as he eats with his right hand. He makes it seem like it’s a natural thing for him to do. I struggle a bit at first, but quickly get the hang of eating with one hand and holding my daughter with the other. Alyss finishes eating before I do, and reaches for Rosie.

Negan glances down at his wife as she cradles my daughter, with a cute, dimpled smile on his face. He lifts his gaze and glances at me. I give him a smile in return. I can tell he’s happy. This is as close to having kids as he’s gonna get. I dunno if Alyss has told him, but she can’t have kids. 

I know Negan wants kids of his own, ‘specially after he was gonna once be a father. Since I know what I know ‘bout the two of ‘em, I don’t have an issue letting ‘em get close to my kids. ‘Sides, they’re family. Negan looks above my shoulder and his grin widens.

I jump when I feel two different hands on my shoulders. My first reaction is to bring the fork in my left hand up and go to stab the hand on my right shoulder. Simon stops me before the fork can connect with flesh. I glare at him, but he shakes his head.

“It’s ok, Leigh.” He says.

“Were you ‘bout to stab me, doll?”

[noexit-ff]

41.

I groaned out “nigga, this is nasty. Why, my god. What do they have in those milk bottles” I am so done with changing diapers, this is nasty. I did what Robyn told me to do but then the shit somehow got onto the new diaper so I had to change that, I wasted two diapers. I am learning but this is hard. His shit ain’t normal either “you need to sort yourself out, this shit ain’t happening like that every day” I was about to be sick, Robyn needs to hurry up and start venturing out of the bed but she looks so peaceful. I mean it’s only been two days since we have been home, Robyn said it can be weeks until she is better. I am done with seeing diaper bags “ok, so you have been fed, diaper changed. There is nothing else you need” I need to wash my hands, I mean I didn’t get anything on my hands but still. He is awake and he can’t really roll off but then how do I wash my hands because I am worried that he can, I am confused now. He is safe, he will be fine. Grabbing the diaper bags and running out of his bedroom and running into ours, running across the room and into the bathroom “what the fuck” why did I bring the dirty diapers with me, throwing them in the trash can in the bathroom. Washing my hands quickly, I am actually tired. This is a different type of tired because I can deal with staying awake doing dumb shit in the middle of the night but this tiredness is different, I guess it is to do with being a new parent.

Picking up Maurice and placing him in my arms “you come out to play now it’s late huh, you all awake and shit” taking his pacifier out “shall we go downstairs and see if you will sit in the rocker again, you are one clever baby though” he knows that he’s not in someone’s arms and just cries, I am going to try it out again. We have those swings but it’s in his room and I need to bring it down and I can’t do that with him in my arms, I already feel nervous walking around with him “if you keep this up, then at nights you can come to my studio sessions” making it downstairs “guess what, apparently well it’s true but. I have to give your mom a push gift, I mean the gift is you. What else does she want, I think it’s just a way for women to get more things so now I have to think of something” my mom said it to me and I didn’t even know what to say, how the hell do I know this stuff “so Maurice” sitting down on the couch, pulling the rocker to me “you need to sit and chill in this thing, let me just relax and watch some alien documentaries. You don’t have to sleep but you need to stay in this” slowly placing him in the rocker “there we go, now be good” strapping him in “you have to face me and not the TV, your momma orders. Your eyes are precious” pushing the rocker back a little.

Moving my phone to the side a little, Maurice came into my eye view and he is awake still. He is one creepy little nigga, I thought this rocking shit was supposed to make him sleep. He is staring at the colours of the hanging toys on his rocker. I have barely caught up on my messages. Robyn and I still need to announce it officially but it’s hectic, we don’t get time at all. Yesterday Robyn thought her stitches got infected but luckily it wasn’t that, I feel for her. After catching her in the bathroom, she has to clean herself with warm water, it’s so much effort to just pee. I am doing my best for her, she did go through all of that for our son. Tapping on Instagram, I think I will post a video for the fans because it’s been a while. Flicking the camera to my face, I look bad and I need a shave. Pressing record “I look like a homeless man right now” I smiled rubbing my stubble “but all is well with my family, I am sure y’all know he was born and life has come at me fast. This shit is hard, I am on some Game of Thrones night watch every night. He don’t sleep, but he good and we good. I thought I would update y’all on that, but to my niggas out there. Put a condom on fellas” I busted out laughing stopping the recording, Robyn will kick my ass but I am posting it.

Placing Maurice’ bottle down, he has his eyes shut now. This boy can drink, grabbing the towel at the side of me. Propping him up and placing the towel with my hand under his chin, I am getting used to it now. Rubbing his back gently, I would do it over my shoulder but he was sick all on my back so he lost those royalties. He looks like a grumpy old man like this, a little bit of milk dribbled out. His eyes opened a little but he closed them again, he is tired and will sleep now “I know, you want mommy breast milk. I want it too son, I miss the nipple also. We will get you back on there son, tomorrow you will have the nipple. Maybe I could be too” nodding my head looking up at the TV “see son, aliens do exist. The government are hiding this shit, I will teach you it all” hearing a slight giggle at the side of me “fuck!” I spat seeing Robyn “you can’t do that to me, I get scared easily” placing Maurice down and wiping his mouth “it’s like five in the morning and I didn’t see you in bed, I just wanted to see if you was ok and then I hear you talking, you make me laugh. Nipple and aliens? No wonder he looks at you like shut up nigga” Robyn rubbed the back of my head “come to bed, I appreciate you so much Chris. Doing this for me, I am able to get better and heal so thank you” feeling a kiss to my head “it’s teaching me though, I saw you suffer, in pain. At one point you was ill with fever and they may have cut you open. You went through it so this is nothing, he just likes being awake at night but now he is asleep” Robyn walked around me “I miss him so much” she took him from me “I want to do so much more but I am useless right now and yes, Junior is getting the breast. I don’t know about senior Chris” side eyeing Robyn.

Opening my eyes slowly seeing the baby lounger on the bed and Maurice awake in the middle of the lounger “sorry, did he wake you?” looking to the side of me seeing Robyn out of bed “a little, I heard him cry” stretching my body out “how long did he sleep for?” I asked “about four or five hours and then he woke up, he needs feeding but I need to use the toilet. Can you watch him while I do” nodding my head, reaching over and gripping the edge of the lounger, pulling him closer to me. He is all quiet now she got that pacifier in his mouth, seeing him just moving his arms around “stop scratching your face” moving his hand away, shuffling up on the bed “come to me son” slowly lifting him off the lounger, lifting up my legs and placing him on my lap so he can see me. Taking his pacifier out “morning son, it’s me again. I know you sick of seeing me” Junior stifled out a yawn “I feel the same way, it’s hard out there having to open your eyes and play havoc at night, I get it” Maurice stared at me intently, moving my head to the side and he moved his eyes also “everyone laughing saying you going to have a big forehead, I know. I gave them the same look. They are just jealous because you are one beautiful ass baby, they haters anyways” he kicked his little legs and moved his arms “the milk producer is coming, she needs to clean her booty and actually we need to clean you, we can do that today. Give your stank ass a bath” I think I want to do that today, but I want to do it with Robyn’ help.

Watching silently as Robyn breastfed Maurice “I think I have date with my hand again” I sighed out saying “besides you being a horny dog I am at a loss of words for you, initially it was me. I wanted this and I made all of the noise about wanting a baby, you just sat back. Just seeing you step up the way you are, you are doing more than I even asked for Chris. I didn’t think you would have done this, I expected you to tell me you are going out and you will be back. I always did say to you that you will be a great dad and you are, you are bonding and spending so much time with him and I love it. I can’t wait to be fully there for you both, things will get back to normal. I am trying, there is only so much you can do” rubbing my chest smiling “I try, it’s hard work though. Women have a big job and I am living it, I can only imagine what it was like for my mom being a single mother. Juggling a crying baby and then getting him his milk because I didn’t want to disturb you it was hard, his cries can actually mentally get to you” Robyn poked her lips out to me “you should have woke me, I will pump for you though but for now. Come to me, I want to feed him myself” Robyn is looking better, the more rest she gets the better she is looking and feeling “I want to give him a bath, can I do it? I need help though” I asked “yes of course, we can do that today” I think that is the only thing I need to learn to do.

“I was thinking Chris, we should have done it in the sink. It may have been easier but it’s ok, we have set out the baby bath and it’s done. I am new to this too” I am holding a naked baby and now she mentions it “just put him in, I mean like lean over. Gently put him in, these new baby baths are good but just have your arm around him, just supporting his upper body. Like a cradle, you can do it” I wish Robyn did this now, I sighed out getting down on my knees “this is new to me too, do not pee on me either” leaning over the bath and slowly placing him in the bathtub “yes that is fine” Maurice scrunched his face up and let out a cry, lifting him back up “is it wrong? What is it? Is it too hot” slightly feeling panicked “no, it’s ok. He is new to it, this is different for him. Just put him back in, it’s ok” Robyn walked over to me, I attempted it again “it’s ok baby, we are here” doing what Robyn said to me, keeping my arm under his head for support “he didn’t cry this time” I said “he will get used to it, so the washcloth, use that to gently wash him” how do women do this, how do they support a baby and clean them “I can’t do this, how?” I questioned, this is hard “it’s ok, just stay there. I will wash him” remembering Robyn can’t strain herself “no, don’t. Your stitches” looking behind me “I’m fine, I will do it quickly” I need to learn this better.

Smiling down at my son “he likes being free of clothes” he is kicking his legs “they do, let’s put your bracelet on while we are getting you ready handsome. Pass me it” Robyn said, I actually forgot where I put that, I paused thinking “oh yeah” it’s in the hospital bag, I know where it is “my mom asked if we getting him circumcised you know” I said walking to the walk in closet “she did it for me” opening the bag “yeah we will, that shit is nasty so yeah we will” that was easy, I knew Robyn would say yes but still, she may not want too “ok, I will book it in” grabbing the box and jogging back over to Robyn “do it on a day I can come out” opening the box and holding the bracelet out to Robyn “I will, we need to post something too. Even if it’s something small” I been wanting to do this “you telling me the list because I am out of bed but we can do it once he is dressed” Robyn fixed the name bracelet on his wrist “that is so adorable, I love it” Robyn beamed.

“I think we about to give him a bath every night before sleep, look at him. He has loved it and now he is asleep” Robyn finished brushing his hair down, the struggle hair “that seems like a good idea, bath and milk and he will sleep through it” Robyn may be on to something with that “so shall we take a picture, I was thinking. Unofficial photo of us, I could hold him over my shoulder and we take the picture in the long mirror in the closet. You can be behind me, I just don’t want to show his face off yet” nodding my head “but truthfully, look at me now. Does my stomach look bad or is it going?” Robyn lifted the tee up “it’s gone down, putting cocoa butter on while pregnant and after is working it’s magic. You will be back to normal soon” Robyn let the tee fall “thank you Chris, now let’s do this. You can take the picture and I will repost it from you so I can climb back into bed” getting up from the side of the bed “cool, I am about to make some lunch. What do you want?” I questioned walking off slowly “can you go to Popeye’s for me, I been wanting that” now she making me leave the home “I will go for you” I can’t say no.

Placing my arm around Robyn as I took the picture “let me see” Robyn said, turning my phone to her “ok I like that, better than the first one” Robyn thinking this a damn photoshoot “place your finger in his hand, the hand he has his bracelet on. I want to take a picture of it” Robyn moved the strand of hair back before grabbing his hand, she placed a finger between his balled up fist “his skin is so soft, I love him so much” Robyn said, taking a picture of it “I like that, your tattooed hand looks dope too” tapping on Instagram “I am uploading them both and you can repost” tapping both pictures “ok, I am just going to put him in the bassinet” Robyn said walking off with him, captioning the pictures ‘Christopher Maurice Brown Junior, born May 6th and weighing eight pounds and seven ounces (he would have been 9 pounds if he was full term) we are both proud parents but I am mostly proud of @badgalriri she bought our king into the world, it wasn’t easy but she pulled through. Thank you for all of the love and we good! A mini us in the world!!’ pressing send on the post.

I am wondering who the hell is this Rolls Royce outside my home, I go to get lunch and now there is a random car outside. The elevator doors opened, we aren’t expecting any visitors so I am wondering who this is, placing the bag on the dining table and following the voices in the living area. I know that voice though and I was not expecting it, seeing both Jay Z and Jay Brown, Robyn stared at me “Chris” Jay Z got up from the couch, I wonder what his creepy ass wants. He shook my hand “congratulations, we have just come and I was telling Rihanna how I am here as a friend, that is it” he walked off to sit back down “ok” I am confused “I have known Rihanna as long as you have and I had to come and personally congratulate her on something she always wanted, I bought a few things for him. I am happy for you both” sitting down next to Robyn slowly “thank you” I mumbled “it’s hard, I was the same with Blue. This little baby, I didn’t know how to hold her. My big hands might hurt her but you get used to it” I smiled a little, he don’t like me and I don’t like him so why is he here.

I am staying ever so silent “what are you doing with yourself now? Are you wanting to go back into that line of work? If you need any advice I am always here for you” he would probably charge for that “I will be, I will be doing the tour with Chris. I have the make up line again, Chris got me that. I do have things to come, I will be signing with Chris or stay independent but it will be either one of those. My son will be first though, even if I don’t I still have money coming in from the clothing lines” Robyn knows what she is doing with herself so he can go away “I heard that your tour has done well overseas, sold out stadiums. That is very impressive, at times I feel like your record label does not deserve you” Jay Z said to me “I guess but I be doing my own thing, they are just there to say yes” Jay Z is only here to be a nosey little fuck.