#her and no one is forced to ask me if its okay to rb once again bc i'm dumb and forget to say it dhkJDAFH

[deadrlngers]

she’s waiting for the bestie (miss panam) ♡

[twdeadfanfic]

Storm

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: During a run, Daryl and you have to wait out a storm on a cabin.

Words: 1508

N/A: I wrote this fluffy ficlet for @twdsunshine​​​ 3K followers celebration! Her fic “Late in the Day” was not only the very first Daryl fic I ever read, but also the first reader insert, and I loved that fic so much, I read it and read it a hundred of times before (and after!) I began writing my own.

Thanks to @twdsunshine​ for hosting this fluffy fest!!!

You ran toward the small cabin, following Daryl, who turned his head to make sure you were behind him, reaching out a hand towards you that you grasped, the rain so strong that you could barely see anything. Daryl and you were on a quick run to bring some stuff back to the prison when a heavy storm had seemed to come out of nowhere, you hadn’t seen so much rain in years, getting completely drenched in seconds.  

You both reached the cabin, walking inside when Daryl unlocked the door, your damp clothes dripping water on the wooden floor. The place was small, one single room besides the tiny bathroom, and it didn’t seem too abandoned, there was a tattered sofa with a threadbare blanket on it, and in front of it a fireplace with a stack of wood near it, and even a couple of cans of soup on top of the counter.

“How did you know about this place?” You asked while you kicked off your soaked boots and socks.

“Found it a few weeks ago when I was hunting and had to hide from a herd of walkers, until they left,” Daryl answered while he locked the door and pushed a shelf against it for good measure. “Figured it could be useful for other times I went hunting.” He kicked off his boots and damp socks too, and he went to the fireplace to start building up a fire.  

“You were lucky you found this, then…” You sighed, you hated it when Daryl went out to hunt alone, afraid of him getting hurt either by people or walkers, and to know that he’d been, in fact, trapped by a herd of walkers didn’t help to ease your peace of mind. Probably the reason why Daryl hadn’t told you about it before.

You looked at him, his long, wet hair was stuck to his face, same than yours…he looked good like that, though, and you stared at him for a moment before going to help him with the fire.  Once you had it going, Daryl placed a couple of chairs near it, and he took off his soaked poncho, draping it over the chair to dry it, and you did your same with your coat. Your shirt was a bit wet too, but not as much as your coat, while it seemed that Daryl’s poncho and his leather jacket had protected him from the worst of the rain.

The hem of your trousers was soaked, the water spreading up almost to your knees, the wet fabric clinging to your skin, and you had always hated that uncomfortable feeling. You wiggled your leg with dissatisfaction, droplets of water flying from your jeans, before you decided to just take them off.

Daryl looked at you to see what you were doing when he heard you fighting with your clothes, and he looked away, shy, when you shimmied off your damp jeans. You smirked, it wasn’t the first time that Daryl saw you without trousers on, but he still got so bashful, you found it adorable. You left your jeans near the fire to dry and rushed to sit down on the sofa, which was close enough to the fire to feel its warmth, and you covered your naked and slightly wet legs with the blanket.

Daryl looked at you, a soft, half-smile on his face as he looked at you snuggling with the blanket. He took the poncho from the chair and you wondered what he was doing as he approached you, and you turned your head to look at him as he walked around the sofa. He fumbled with the poncho, grabbing one of the inner, less wet layers, and then he brought it to your hair, squeezing it to dry it a bit, so at least it wouldn’t be dripping. It wasn’t a towel, and the poncho was wet anyway, but it helped a bit.

You hadn’t expected that, and you felt some twirls in your belly at the gesture as you gave Daryl a grateful, fond smile. Daryl didn’t say anything, a half-smile tugging at his lips, and he kept squeezing your hair. Once it wasn’t dripping water, you took Daryl’s hand, making him walk around the sofa to stop in front of you, pushing at him to squat down, and taking the poncho from his hands.

“Now you…” You brought the wet material to the ends of his hair, squeezing it as best as possible, and then you ran your fingers through his hair, pushing it away from its face. “Done.”

Daryl gave you a soft smile, taking the poncho from your hands and placing it over the chair to dry again.

“You should take off your trousers and put them to dry too, like me, you know?” You arched your eyebrows at him. “You’ll get cold…and I’m not letting you sit down here with those wet trousers, you’ll damp the blanket.”

Daryl smirked, arching an eyebrow at you. “You’re just trying to get me naked,” he teased even though he still seemed shy.

“But of course! By all means, take it all off, less you catch a cold…” You looked him up and down as you teased him back, smiling when Daryl blushed, looking away as he tried to hide his face with his wet hair. How could he be so adorable.

Daryl shook his head and huffed, and he went to pick one of the cans of soup, opening it and pouring it into a pot that he carefully heated over the fire, pouring it into a bowl once it was warm. As he got up from the floor next to the fireplace, Daryl tugged at his wet trousers, which were clinging to his legs like yours had, seeming uncomfortable. He glanced at you and finally he followed your example, pulling off his trousers and leaving them to dry on a chair, and you tried to stop yourself from staring at him as he walked towards you with the bowl of soup.

Daryl sat down next to you on the small sofa, and you reached the blanket to cover his naked legs too, mindful of the bowl of soup, that he gave you once you finished fumbling with the blanket. You smiled as the bowl warmed your hands and you let out a content hum as you took a couple of sips before giving it back to Daryl, and you both passed the bowl back and forth until you finished the soup.

You left the emptied bowl on the floor and turned to look at Daryl, smiling softly and reaching out brush his hair away from his face again before leaning closer to kiss his lips, and Daryl gave you that shy, half-smile that you adored. Neither of you had put a name to what you were, to your relationship, but you knew that you loved Daryl, probably more than you had ever loved anyone else, and you knew that you had gotten lucky enough that he loved you too, and he might not be the best at putting that into words, but he was getting pretty good at showing it…though truth be told, he only had to give you that smile to make your heart flutter.

Suddenly, you heard the loud noise of thunder from outside, startling you and making you jump, and you saw lighting outside the cabin…that must be close… The storm had reached you on full force, and you gasped again at more lighting and the loud thunder, startling you enough to flinch when Daryl touched your arm, and you looked at him when you realized it, eyes wide and scared.

“Are you afraid of storms” Daryl arched an eyebrow. “Really?”

You shrugged, embarrassed. “Not of storms…lighting…those things are dangerous…” You admitted quietly.

“We are safe here…” Daryl reached out to caress your arm, comforting, and you were glad that he wasn’t teasing you or making fun, but you could help but jump a bit again at another lightning.

“I wouldn’t be so sure…” You shuddered. “My best friend told me that a lighting once went through his uncle’s tv and to him…”

“Seriously?” Daryl arched his brow and you shrugged. “Well…there ain’t TVs here…” That was true, but you were afraid anyway, and Daryl knew it. “Come here,” he told you softly, tugging at you.

You didn’t need to be told twice, scooting closer until you were sat on his lap, snuggling to his chest as Daryl placed the blanket around you both, and then wrapped his arms around you, holding to him and kissing the top of your head. You smiled to him, grateful, and pecked his lips before snuggling to him again, hiding your face on the crook of his shoulder so you wouldn’t see the lighting, and trying to ignore the thunder. It was easier with Daryl holding you tight to him and his comforting warmth, making you feel safe, knowing that he’d protect you against anything, whether it was walkers, people, or lighting.

*

I hope that you enjoyed this little fluffy thing!

As always, excuse my English, is not my first language.

If you want to me (un)tagged let me know.

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[fear-before-valor]

AU Ficlet: Jim, who was raised by the Order from the age of five, attends Arcadia Oaks High, for his first day of human high school. Weird things happen in Arcadia, though, and his appearance seems to be one such weird thing to the residents in this small, strange town... 

Aka: How an Order-raised Jim met Toby and Claire

Words: 2939 II Warnings: none II ok to rb --

Jim dropped his backpack at the empty desk next to one Tobias Domzalski’s, one of the only people at school who’d been properly friendly to him so far. It was Jim’s first day of mortal high school, and he’d been vetted mercilessly by every student group but Tobias’s, though he was beginning to suspect that said group consisted of only Tobias.

Of course, Jim had been screening his peers right back, but it was still exhausting. He thought he’d been ready after the Order’s… extensive lessons on humanity, and how to fit in with the mortals like himself, but already, everything he’d done felt like it must have been a social faux pas of some kind.

Act quiet around the quiet kids? Then no one speaks, until the silence grows so long that it’s awkward, and starting up a conversation makes it feel painfully forced. So, okay, maybe find some louder kids and try to blend in with them. Except, they start to grow obnoxious, and at some point, the headache simply stops being worth it.

Jim wasn’t even going to dare try and bond with the overly studious; he wasn’t here to vie for valedictorian, nor was he all that interested in making grades that separated him from the pack. Not to mention, he much preferred whatever lessons the Order could teach him anyway. They were very practical things, going over philosophy, strategy, combat, computations. He was already conversational in Bellroc and Skrael’s original languages, and though he knew Spanish would be equally valuable, the Spanish teacher seemed… intense, in a way that Bellroc and Skrael, who could likewise be rigorous sometimes, were not.

In fact, the only class he was indeed eager to take was history—and, okay, perhaps physical education didn’t sound horrendous, so long as he was careful about holding back in certain areas—because while he could learn plenty of history from his very ancient guardians, to hear of human history from the mouths of humans, like himself… it sounded unique, in a way that he hoped was amenable, at the very least, if not genuinely interesting or entertaining.

As he sat down in the chair beside Tobias, the boy seemed to light up, beaming over at Jim, a reaction that he hadn’t expected from his peer. He’d thought he’d rather botched his first conversation with Tobias in homeroom that morning, as he hadn’t known anything about anything that Tobias had referenced (what on earth was Gun Robot?). But, evidently, he must have done something well—or at least, acceptably— because Tobias was leaning over and excitedly holding out his hand to show Jim something which clattered in his palm as he moved. Politely, Jim glanced over to see what it was, and—oh.

Oh no.

That was definitely the remains of a troll.

Tobias was holding out small, grey pebbles for him to see, on which Jim could just make out hints of tattoos that had been etched into the troll while they were alive.

Holding back his mild panic, he gave a tight smile and a nod, as his classmate diagnosed them incorrectly as gneiss—which, admittedly, Jim thought wasn’t a bad guess, really. It’s not like the other boy had any reason to think that the rocks he was holding were anything but an average metamorphic stone.

Tobias was looking to Jim for a response, though, so he opened his mouth to speak, breathing in—

—magic.

Jim froze once more. The distinct tingle of magic had just washed over his senses, keen and undeniable, unlike anything else he’d felt that day.

It was raw, underdeveloped, not yet bolstered by the right teacher, but it was there, and it spoke in tones of purple, pulsing with potential.

Jim was no wizard himself, much preferring combat to the arcane arts, having not a strong penchant for it or its intricacies and delicate, temperamental nature, but even still, he’d been raised with the three most powerful magic-users in the known world. They’d taught him from youth how to recognize when magic was present, how to glean as many clues as he possibly could about it, or who might have cast it, might be walking in it, based on its style and scent, its intensity, or its intentionality. He wasn’t quite the best at sensing the finer details, nor could he find it when it was masked, but when it was open, unhidden, he could feel it like a mild electric shock that one might get when touching a door handle in dry weather; he could sense it like the faint scent of ozone during a storm, or like a prickle on the hairs on the back of his neck, when lightning was about to strike.

What’s going on? He thought, as he turned his head in the direction of the epicenter of the magic. First, there’s troll remains in the hands of a classmate with the same schedule as him, and then there’s—the girl, there. The girl with the blue streak in her hair.

The witch.

She’d caught him staring, as she set her books down on a desk in the front row, a couple columns over from his. Beside her plopped down two more girls—her friends, Jim noted, as they chattered familiarly, cheerfully.

The girl gave him an awkward smile, then, and Jim realized that he must have been staring for a few moments too long, so he rapidly flicked his eyes back to the surface of his own desk, trying not to think about the flush he could feel splash across the back of his neck, or the tips of his ears.

Tobias did not grant him such grace.

“Ooh,” he grinned, smug as a cat in a sunbeam. “That’s Claire Nuñez. President of the drama club, valedictorian candidate, great actress. She’s tied with Seamus Johnson and Shannon Longhannon for top of the class right now, I heard. She’s wicked smart, and—Jim?” Tobias huffed, “Are you paying attention to me?”

Jim’s eyes darted back to his new friend, from where they’d been briefly studying Claire Nuñez’s back, trying to get a more in-depth read on her arcana. He nodded distractedly. “Yeah, yeah, smart, a president; I heard you.”

Tobias sighed, shaking his head. “Jim.”

Jim raised an eyebrow, indicating that he was listening.

“She’s out of your league.” He deadpanned. “She’s super popular, and you’re, no offense, definitely not.”

Jim shot Tobias a confused look, brow furrowing. “What do you mean?”

The boy stared openly at Jim. “What do you mean, ‘what do you mean’? Do you really not— Oh my god.”

Jim blinked. “What?”

Tobias shook his head. “Jim, you’ve kinda… scared a lot of the people in our class today. They don’t know what to think about you. You’re like a giant question mark! No one even knows where you came from—”

“Ohio.” Jim recited his cover story, which Skrael had helped him pick the night previous. They’d chosen a city that started with a c… right. “Columbus, Ohio.”

Tobias shot him a deadpan look. “Okay, fine, Jim Lake from Columbus, Ohio. Why’d you suddenly move to Arcadia, then? Why not L.A.? Why not Burbank?”

Jim frowned. “Do you interrogate every newcomer like this? My parents got a good job opportunity here.” He held up one hand, “And before you ask—real estate.”

“Oh yeah? How come I haven’t seen them put up ads, then?” Tobias crossed his arms. “I’m just saying, dude; I think you’re cool, but you freak a lot of people out with that brooding, silent thing you do.”

Jim snorted. “I do what?”

“Y’know—”

“No, I don’t know—”

“You act, like, all silent and mysterious when people try to talk to you.” Tobias shrugged. “I don’t think it’s a bad thing, but some people don’t seem as ready to brush it off as me. I’m only telling you so that you can make more friends here.”

“Well, I have you, don’t I?” Jim’s head canted.

Tobias blinked, floundering at that. “Well—y…yeah, I guess so, but—”

“I mean, we are friends, aren’t we?”

It was Tobias’s turn to go a bit pink, shaking his head in bewilderment. “If you want, yeah, but—”

“Then there we go. I have a friend.” Jim smiled.

Tobias tried to protest, “But—” only to find himself cut off as Mr. Strickler strode into the classroom at that moment, placing a leather briefcase on his desk with a decisive thump. Cacophonous voices incrementally petered out, as attentive heads turned to the front of the classroom, where Mr. Strickler had pulled out a stack of syllabi, handing them to the student nearest the door, with the instructions to “take one and pass them,” spoken precisely to the class.

Tobias looked like he wanted to say something when Strickler turned his back to write his name on the chalkboard, but Jim shushed him from the corner of his mouth, opening a fresh, blank notebook as he did so. This was the only class he’d bothered to buy a separate notebook for, and, to be frank, was the only class he’d even intended to take notes in at all.

Tobias looked chagrined, but not angry, as he rolled his eyes and went to fetch a pencil from his own bag. Might as well have something to do with his idle hands for the next hour.

—

As his first day was winding to close, Jim had to admit, having a friend at school did end up making it a little easier.

The rest of his time there had passed largely unremarkably, since a rather thrilling start to the history curriculum. Jim’s hand had shot up just as much as the apparent reigning top of the sophomore class, one Miss Claire Nuñez’s, had— a fact which had, according to Tobias, already begun to percolate across campus.

The lesson had only briefly covered the basics of ancient Rome, going over a bit of easy, more widely known trivia, to see what the class already knew about their oncoming first unit, but, nonetheless, Jim had been eager to jump in, to talk almost directly to Mr. Strickler, going back and forth in the form of a discussion. He’d spoken quietly, quickly, and he’d felt the eyes of his peers glued to his desk, but had ignored the sensation altogether, in favor of listening to what his teacher had to say about aqueducts, instead.

When the hour had finally come to an end, in fact, he’d packed up slowly, most of his classmates abandoning the room as quickly as they could—the lunch period was about to begin—though Tobias was kind enough to wait for him. As such, Tobias was the only other person present to hear Mr. Strickler stop Jim after class, paying a brief compliment to his performance that day, and accompanying his words with a poster for the history club. Jim didn’t think his furtive smile had gone entirely missed by the teacher, but as they’d exited into the now mostly empty hallway, he forgot to worry about it further, as Tobias wasted no time in asking him how the heck his new friend knew so much about history already?

Jim had shrugged it off, saying that it was his favorite subject; and besides, didn’t Tobias— “Seriously, dude, it’s Toby, by the way”— know more about geology than anyone else in their class? The compliment had made Tobias—Toby— preen, and he’d promptly dropped the topic, instead launching into an enthusiastic lecture meant to coach Jim through the cafeteria process. Jim, who had tried to jump in to say that he’d heard this at orientation the week prior, but Toby had shot him an appalled look at that, swiftly informing him that orientation did nothing to help the social side of things. Sure, he knew the motions, but did he know how to do them without standing out in the crowd? Absolutely not—in fact, the thought was almost laughable, according to Toby.

So, Jim had grinned, followed Toby’s lead, and had just barely survived the ever-important lunch line waltz.

The rest of the day had passed mostly the same way, in the end. Toby, having warmed up to Jim, took him through the whole rest of the day, guiding him through the intricacies of Arcadia Oaks High, and by the time the final bell was ringing, Jim almost felt like a normal student. Some of his peers had even started waving to him in the hallways; he’d broken the ice, after all.

Well. He’d thought so, until Toby had said goodbye, peddling away on his bike toward home, leaving Jim alone in the courtyard by the bustling lockers, surrounded by students eager to either go home, as Toby had, or to dive into after-school clubs and sports.

Jim opted to take his time, though, to enjoy the Southern California sun, as he strolled casually across the campus, toward the front of the school grounds.

As he rounded the corner, though, intending to head toward the Arcadia Oaks sign, where he’d stop and shoot off a text to the Order that his first day had gone well, and that he’d be home soon, he felt a tap on his shoulder, instead, and heard a throat being cleared behind him.

He knew who it was before he even turned to face her; her magic had given her away as soon as she’d reached a hand for him.

Despite this, Jim whirled as if she’d caught him by surprise, schooling his features into something startled but friendly, relaxing his shoulders as a polite smile crossed his face, upon seeing her. “Oh, hey. Sorry, I wasn’t expecting—” he rethought his words, shaking his head. “Never mind. …It’s, ‘Claire,’ right?”

She nodded, returning his smile. “Yeah! And you’re ‘Jim Lake’, hm?”

Something about the way she asked that question sent up a warning bell in the back of Jim’s mind, but he tried not to look unsettled; it was probably just nerves.

“Yup; just Jim is fine, though.” He added with a casual laugh.

Claire tilted her head, continuing. “So, you’re quite the history buff, huh?”

Jim’s hands dropped to his pockets, as he glanced at his shoes, then back up to her. “Uh, yeah, I guess so.”

“You guess?” She teased. “You were on fire in class today.” She lifted her chin, to look at him head on. “Do I need to worry about you unseating me, Jim Lake from Columbus, Ohio?”

Jim snorted, shaking his head. “No, no; it’s not like that. History’s just a hobby.”

“Pretty intense hobby, if you know half as much as you seem like you do.” She raised an eyebrow at him.

Jim grinned. “Intense? Like being the president of drama club, the vice president of debate, and the supposed shoe-in for the lead in the play this fall?” he recited, much to Claire’s surprise, who shot him an impressed look.

“Huh. You sure do pay attention, don’t you?”

He glanced around, making it a leisurely movement, concealing the way he was searching for anyone who could overhear, before his eyes met hers again, as he said, “Only to certain people.”

Claire blinked, cheeks reddening, mistaking his meaning. “Oh, yeah? What kinds of people?”

Jim rolled the dice. “Well, people who seem nice, or kind, who I could make friends with. People who do things I wanna do, too, so I can have an ‘in’. Like clubs, and things.” he clarified.

“And, uh…” his voice grew hushed, “Magic-users in the human world.”

Claire’s face fell. “What was that last one?” Her nose scrunched with the skeptical look that overtook her features.

Jim’s eyes darted to look for an exit, realizing coldly—fearfully— that he had grossly miscalculated.

“Uh…” Stupid. He chided himself. Think of a lie before you go backing yourself into a corner. Skrael would be disappointed in him if he were here.

“Did you just say ‘the human world’ like you… aren’t human?” She stared at him suspiciously.

Jim blinked. “What? No. I’m human. Of course I’m human.” He gave a strained laugh. “What else would I be?”

“…Someone who thinks they aren’t?” Claire’s brow furrowed.

“It was a rhetor- well. I mean, I guess that’s true. But I’m not!” He smiled weakly, and then froze for a split-second, rapidly adding, “Someone who thinks they aren’t human! I know I’m human!”

Claire’s eyes shot to the street, where, to her poorly hidden relief, her dad had just pulled up to the curb, there to pick her up. “…Right. Well, Jim Lake from Cleveland, Ohio, my dad’s here, so I need to go, but this has been… interesting.”

Jim nodded rapidly, shooting her one more smile— a sheepish, apologetic one— as he gave her a shy wave. “…Yeah.”

Claire hoisted her backpack onto one shoulder, giving him a half-hearted wave back. “…Bye, Jim.”

“Bye, Claire.”

As she turned to leave, Jim frowned to himself. He wasn’t sure why, but something felt wrong. He supposed it could have been the awkward manner in which he’d acted, but in a flash, he decided that wanted to see her again, just in case that wasn’t it. He couldn’t be too careful.

So, before he missed his chance, he called after her retreating back, “See you around?”

Claire stopped, hand poised on the handle of the passenger side door, freezing there for a heart-pounding pause.

Then, she shot him a look over her shoulder, one of interest, meeting his eyes deliberately. Jim got the sense that he should heed it carefully.

“Yeah. See you around, Jim.”

[zontiky]

au where the apocalypse was never a threat or a concept to begin with

*cracks knuckles* now i could make this a decent upbringing au OR i could make it EXTREMELY COMPLICATED and you know me you know exactly what im about to do ;)

reginald THINKS he’s prepping them all for the apocalypse but reginald is a child-abusing FOOL and an alien BASTARD and there’s no apocalypse there never was there never will be. the world is safe and sound but the hargreeves children aren’t.

five runs away from home and gets thrown into april 1st, 2019. the world is thriving. he did it. he tries to get home but he can’t because he’s stuck and im now realizing that everyone reading this post has seen a million fics with this exact concept but FUCK YOU THIS IS MY CITY NOWWW

so he’s stuck in 2019 and he’s like ah fuck ah SHIT what now! and goes to the academy and it’s not like he was super far away from it in the first place. he didn’t even make it a mile away it’s like a 5 minute walk back home lmao

now because reggie thinks there IS an apocalypse he still killed himself and i hate him a lot so cough ahem anyway

five shows up on the mansion and expects dad to be sitting there in his office, doing his evil dad evil villain thing yk the drill

but instead he comes in to an empty house. mom is unresponsive. he cant find pogo (dont ask where pogo is. hes doing monkey butler things ok). and diego is climbing in through the window

five freaks out because WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU THIS IS MY HOUSE and jumps diego and diego goes down HARD because WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT MY DEAD BROTHER?? MY BROTHER WHO DISAPPEARED 17 YEARS AGO?? WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCKKKK

so they try to beat the shit out of each other for a second and by that i mean five tries to beat the shit out of diego whos gained his senses by now and is trying to convince his brother (his BROTHER) that technically he lives here too please stop punching me

luther comes downstairs.

“IS THAT FIVE???”

“SHUT UP AND HELP ME THIS LITTLE FUCKER CAN PUNCH”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA”

they manage to calm him down when five catches sight of diegos tattoo

WAIT I FORGOT THAT THE FUNERAL WAS BEFORE APRIL FUCK NEVERMIND SCRAP THE PAST 13 BULLETS ABORT MISSION

so five lands in april, goes to the house, and by then the hargreeves have cleared out and are back to doing their own thing more or less. he comes up to the door and grace (pogo has fixed her by now because i said so) welcomes her son back home like he never even left

she gives him a hug

reginald is gone and she hasnt seen her sun in years and dammit, he deserves that hug okay? she gives him a hug.

five pulls away. mom hasnt hugged him for years because he stopped letting her and he’s not about to change his mind now

“where’s everyone?” he asks. he doesn’t even consider that everybody is gone, because where would they go? or maybe it just hasn’t hit him exactly which time he jumped into, maybe he still hasn’t made the connection exactly what age his siblings are now, maybe he has but he still hopes he can deny it for a little while longer

grace wants to hug him again but she refrains. she calls his siblings

one by one, in the span of the next week, she gets ahold of them and calls them back to the academy. “important news,” she says. “you’ll want to -- you’ll need to be here,” she says. “your brother,” she says, and her children listen and come back home

luther is at the academy when five gets here. because, where would he go? he can’t go back to the moon, and dad is gone, and he’s never even been on a bus alone before, where would he go?

when five sees him for the first time he almost cries, because he’s so much bigger and taller and older and what happened to him??

this is his new reality. this is the new luther

but it isn’t, it can’t be, because five is going to get back home and he’s going to fix it, he’s going to fix this and he’s going to grow up just like his siblings did, and it won’t even be long before he’s back home almost two decades ago.

vanya is next to arrive, and five almost -- almost -- smiles at her and gives her a hug and teases her how she’s still shorter than him, but she has such a blank expression on her face and the way she looks between the portrait of him (he hated that portrait from the beginning, he wanted to burn it because hes back now, isnt he? and he’ll go back home and not leave again, but pogo didnt let him) stops him. it will only be a couple of days and he’ll be going home already, he tells grace, so maybe the others dont even have to come here. she nods and smiles and says nothing

diego comes a day or so later, dragging klaus along, and five is stunned by how they look once again. diego looks battle-hardened and angry like he never did just last week, five’s last week, but now he scowls and doesn’t stutter and dresses himself in black and he lives alone and diego looks so lonely but five doesnt think about it because its not his business and he knows better and its diegos own damn fault for cutting contact, isnt it? and even if it weren’t five will go back and fix it all

five knows klaus has been doing things for a good year or so know, but this -- living on the streets, giggling even as diego forces him inside, making lewd jokes with his eyes out of focus -- he couldn’t have even imagined. he stamps down the feeling of i should have been there to help stop him and doesn’t think how sad and angry at their father seeing klaus like this makes him feel, instead he forces thoughts of it’s his own fault he ended up this way and i’m going to get back and fix this (but that’s not a thought he has to force. he will. he has to. it won’t even be another week before he figures out how to get home)

allison gets there next. she took the first plane she could get on to get home and pushed off all her appointments but she had a family emergency just last week and it was hard to get away and she looks so sad even when she opens her arms for a hug and five cant help but relent and give her one. diego scoffs and allison lets loose a dig thats more of a barb thats more of a sharp sentence splitting the air and hitting her brother square in the chest. five doesnt say anything but his stomach twists. just a week or so and he’ll fix it because even as children they never said things like that to each other

he waits for ben to come last. he must be the most adjusted of them all, right? ben read a lot last five saw of him, and hes one of the smartest of them, and secretly five always thought that ben deserves to have friends that he doesnt live with

ben doesnt come

he asks mom and she smiles and he asks the others and they look away and he asks again and someone -- and it doesnt matter who because his ears are ringing and hes stumbling back and falling onto the couch -- says that ben died. ben died years ago.

ben died four years after five left

fives head is spinning and he needs to get back, he needs to stop it he needs to fix it he needs to make it all better because it was never supposed to be this way

(you thought this would be a happy au didnt you?? haha bitch think again)

(it is but they have to get there smhhh)

klaus laughs and elbows the air next to him and five asks, he doesnt beg, he asks him if he can summon ben

everyone scoffs. rolls their eyes. klaus is high as a kite and hes holding a bottle of whiskey and he looks like he hasnt been sober in days. weeks. years. and he’s a liar and ben is gone for real, im sorry, five. i know this must be hard for you

that can’t be right. five wasnt there for all of klaus’ lies and stealing and drunken sobbing. five remembers klaus rolling a joint at the breakfast table like it was last week -- and it was, it was, he’ll fix it still, but to five klaus is still just his brother. just klaus

he asks, not begs, five doesnt beg but he comes damn close in this moment, to tell him the truth

and klaus looks around and ben whispers please, klaus, just try and five is looking at him with wet eyes and he’s thirteen he’s so young and -- he can’t say innocent. none of them have ever been innocent, not since reginald hargreeves adopted them all those years ago. but five...

he tells the truth. and five believes him

so anyway five cant get back and then they decide well ok five while youre staying here we might as well buy you some clothes. ones that arent literally 20 years old. jesus these uniforms are ugly

my jaw is clenching so hard and im cold asdflksdh so im gonna end this here and maybe rb it and continue lated idk 😳😳

WHOOP this is getting away from me i know u didnt come here for quote poetic unquote bullshit but weihfsdkjdhskf THATS WHAT UR GETTING I GUESS XX <3

[zosonils-art]

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Gen

Relationship: Ferb Fletcher & Phineas Flynn

Characters: Ferb Fletcher, Phineas Flynn, Perry the Platypus (Phineas and Ferb), Linda Flynn-Fletcher

Additional Tags: Autistic Ferb, Autistic Phineas, autistic phineas is more implied and could also be taken as adhd but he has both anyway so, Autistic Meltdown, Autism, Sensory Overload, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Illustrations, Canon Continuation, Fix-It of Sorts, i think????? i don't frequent this goddamn website i don't know, Brotherly Love, Crying, some of the crying is me

Summary: A stressful day pushes Ferb past his breaking point, and Phineas feels that he has a responsibility to set things right. Takes place immediately after Ready For The Bettys. Was supposed to be a simple continuation fic but got wildly out of hand. Ph*n*rb shippers fuck off this isn't for you.

---

as you’ve probably figured out if you’re following my main, i recently wrote my first fic since i was about 13! it’s available on ao3 at the link above, but you can also read it on tumblr by clicking the readmore on this post! i put a lot of effort into this and it took a lot of courage to post, so feedback is greatly appreciated!

"Mom! Guess what Ferb did!"

Phineas bursts into the kitchen energetically, still buzzing with adrenaline from the day's adventure. Ferb follows a step or two behind. Linda turns her attention from the freshly baked pie in her hands to her sons, although Phineas is too beside himself with excitement to consider whether or not she's paying attention. "He made a secret tunnel, and a spy headquarters, and a villain's lair, and a hover jet shaped like Perry- tell her, Ferb!"

Ferb doesn't match Phineas' enthusiasm. In fact, at the moment, he's sick to death of it. He prepares to launch into the explanation he's been trying all day to give. "Actually, I-"

"Wait a second," Linda interrupts, eyeing the boys with suspicion. "Why are you two soaking wet?"

The interruption is just too much for Ferb. He doesn't even process the question, just lets out a harsh shout of frustration. Phineas recoils - Ferb almost never shouts. "I give UP!" Ferb yells, his voice shaking on the last syllable, and before either of his surprised family members can respond, he turns around and storms off, his destination betrayed by the distinct clunking rhythm of stairs being stomped on too hard and the sound of a door slamming upstairs.

For a moment, the kitchen is silent. Linda recovers before Phineas does, her eyes narrowing in disapproval. "Young man, that is not how we talk to each other in this house!" she calls, setting the pie tin and her oven mitts down on the kitchen counter and following Ferb's path to his room. Before she can make it to the doorway, though, her progress is halted.

"Mom, wait!" Phineas pleads. He's finally caught onto what's been going on all day, and although he's still only half processed it, he knows he doesn't want Ferb to be in trouble for it. He frantically tugs on Linda's arm to draw her attention. Once he's sure that she's stopped, he withdraws his hand (he's still wet, after all, he doesn't want to make her uncomfortable), but sidesteps around her to put his tiny body firmly between her and the doorway to the living room. "Mom, please don't be mad at Ferb, it- it's not his fault! I'm sure he didn't mean anything by it, he's just..." Phineas' voice trails off briefly, but he forces it back into action, complete with the most serious expression he can manage. "If you're gonna be mad at either of us, it should be me, okay?"

At first, Linda returns Phineas' gaze with suspicion, then her face softens with realisation. She crouches down to her son's eye level, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Phineas, did something else happen today?" she asks, the anger gone from her voice.

Phineas hesitates, dropping eye contact again. He's almost certain about the cause of Ferb's outburst, and he can't help but mentally beat himself up for it to a degree. "Well, Ferb's been trying to tell me something all day, but he kept getting interrupted by our spy mission, and I guess it must have been really frustrating because he hates being interrupted but I didn't realise and-" he pauses to breathe, and shudders as he inhales as if on the verge of tears - "and I should have asked at some point but I just kept getting distracted and I didn't even realise how upset it was making him but-"

"Phineas," Linda says gently, and he gladly accepts the invitation to cut his rambling short. His breathing is shaky, but he doesn't cry just yet, even though his emotional state has nosedived in barely a minute. After giving him a moment to snap back into focus, Linda continues. "Phineas, honey, it sounds like this has just been a misunderstanding. On my end, too," she adds, regretting having snapped at Ferb earlier. Phineas nods with a nondescript mumble of agreement. Although he still obviously isn't looking, Linda gives him a reassuring smile anyway, accompanied by a gentle squeeze of his shoulder. "Thank you for telling the truth, sweetheart," she praises him.

"Mmh," Phineas mumbles, tugging at his shirt collar. He tends to fiddle with his shirt when he's nervous or overexcited. It doesn't hold a candle to bouncing his leg or flapping his hands, as far as stimming goes, but it's a lot easier to do while someone is touching you. "I just should've realised what was up earlier, then he probably wouldn't have freaked out..."

He finally glances up again, and the look his mom is giving him tells him that he should drop the argument, so he stops. Linda ruffles his hair affectionately, leaning forward to reach all the way behind Phineas' oddly-shaped head, and flinches at the unpleasant reminder of how waterlogged he still is. She stands up, flicking her hand dry. "I'm sure he knows you didn't mean to hurt his feelings," she reassures Phineas. "Why don't you dry yourself off and then go talk to him? Which reminds me," Linda motions towards the puddles tracked all over the kitchen floor, "why are you two so wet?"

"Oh, we fell in Isabella's pool," Phineas answers matter-of-factly. He isn't quite back to his usual blindingly sunny disposition, but the panicky tremble in his voice has at least disappeared.

Linda smiles, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "Well, that I believe," she says. She'd tactfully decided not to comment on whatever that secret spy headquarters spiel was that Phineas had been getting worked up over, but she suspects his latest imaginary game took the boys to Isabella's backyard and ended up having some real-life consequences. "Oh, hi, Perry," she adds, as the platypus in question waddles into the kitchen.

Perry responds with his familiar chatter. Phineas leans down to pet Perry on the head. "At least you've had a stress-free day, huh," he says, then leaves for the bathroom. Perry stares at him blankly.

---

Ferb is having a meltdown.

He knows what this is, of course. He reads every textbook and blog post on the subject he can find, just in case it helps him make some more sense of himself. If he misses one, Phineas will no doubt have found and memorised it himself for the same reason, and will gladly rattle off anything new. Knowing why there's a raging storm beating at the inside of his head, however, is entirely different from quelling it. By the time he reaches his bedroom, he's trembling so violently that he can barely stand. He stumbles to his bed, pushing his hands down into the mattress to keep himself on his feet.

It's like feeling every feeling from every second of the day all in the same moment, and it hurts. So much is happening in his head that he can't even isolate a single thought, let alone process what it means. Is he angry? That'd make sense, sure, but his mental state isn't exactly conducive to deductive reasoning at the moment. Is he sad? Scared? Something else entirely?? He can't tell what emotion or mixture thereof it is, only that it's hurting his head, and he wants to get it out but he doesn't know how. He's struggling to breathe now, his arms shaking with the effort of keeping his body supported, and as he draws in a desperate shuddering breath Ferb feels something wet in his eye and then on his face, and he remembers that his entire body is wet and he hates it. It's cold, and his hair is sticking to his face and uncomfortably close to his eyes, and his clothes cling to his body oppressively and he wants to tear them off and stop feeling everything. Instead of doing that, he forces himself to breathe in again and looks around the room frantically, hoping to find something other than absolutely everything to concentrate on.

His eyes land on Phineas' bed, and although his vision is blurring as the panicky tears pour down his face, he recognises the shape instantly. Is he mad at Phineas? Should he be? He should be, right? If Phineas had just stopped to listen to him for once, he wouldn't be here with the world ending inside his brain. Another violent wave of emotion sends a shock through his whole body, and Ferb is still in no state to identify it, but he gets the message. He doesn't want to be angry. Not at Phineas. In fact, he doesn't want to feel anything he's feeling at the moment. Not the turbulent assault of everything inside his head, not the hammering rhythm of his heart trying to beat its way out of his chest, not every tiny thing that touches his skin or the light from outside that still feels blinding through the curtains or the muffled sounds of conversation downstairs that he doesn't have room in his brain to translate into anything but more noise.

Sensory overload is another term Ferb knows, and it's another one that doesn't really help to know in the moment. The feeling of anxiety that's been growing in his chest since that morning finally becomes too much for his body to handle, and he collapses on his bed, weakly gripping the blanket for support. Burying his face in his covers blocks out most of the sunlight, at least, but it doesn't significantly improve his mood. He shivers, partly from cold thanks to still being uncomfortably wet, partly from the sobs making his whole body convulse. (When did those start? He doesn't remember.) He uses the last of his physical strength to pull himself fully onto his bed and curl into himself, trying desperately to calm himself down.

...

It's not working. Why isn't it working?? It's as if every effort to steady his breathing just makes him cry harder, every attempt at a calming thought being shattered into a thousand anxious ones by the merciless torrent of everything whirling around in his mind. Ferb is suddenly hyper-aware of how empty the room around him is, and it makes him feel helpless. It's the first feeling he's managed to connect a name to with absolute certainty this whole time, and it's terrifying.

If he was making any noise before in his attempts to control his breathing, he's stopped now. No sound escapes him as he lies in place, too preoccupied with the overwhelming barrage of thoughts in his brain to move. More than anything, Ferb wants his brain to just shut off. Everything in his mind blends into a horrible white noise that won't stop, threatening to drown him in static.

Through the raging mental cyclone, he just barely hears the knock at the door.

Phineas waits a moment before entering his room. He wants to make sure Ferb has time to process that he's here. A few seconds pass, then he opens the door slowly so that it doesn't make any sound. A stab of guilt hits him when he sees Ferb curled up on his bed, visibly distressed. He's facing the opposite wall, but the way he shudders as he breathes makes it obvious that he's crying. Phineas feels his heart sink. He'd really hoped it wouldn't be this bad.

"Hey," he says softly. Ferb grips himself tighter. Just a minute ago, Phineas would have been the last person he wanted to see, but now his desperation for comfort outweighs any lingering hints of animosity. He doesn't object to his brother's presence, so Phineas gently closes the door and walks over to his side of the room. He sits on the bed, watching Ferb to see if he reacts negatively to the shift in weight distribution, and tenses up slightly at how damp the blanket is. Of course, Ferb wouldn't have stopped to dry off on his way up here. A closer look confirms that while a lot of the water on his body has run off and soaked into his bed, Ferb is still almost as wet as he was when he arrived home. Phineas frowns - that can't be comfortable, and it's probably making him feel even worse. "Are you okay?" he asks.

Ferb curls into himself even more instead of asking. The question is so frustratingly rhetorical that he almost reconsiders the possibility of being angry, but the idea still scares him, so the feeling passes. Fortunately, Phineas understands the unspoken 'obviously not' with no further input, and continues to talk. "I'm really sorry about today," he begins. "I know you don't like being interrupted, and I should've realised that it was making you feel bad but I just wasn't paying enough attention and- and I'm sorry, because it's kinda my fault you got so upset," he apologises, not realising that he's holding back tears until he stops to breathe. He wills himself not to cry. He's here to try and make Ferb feel better, not guilt him into forgiveness.

It takes a second or two for Ferb to process what Phineas is saying. It's a struggle to drag the words through the confusing whirlwind of everything still rampaging through his head. Eventually, after a great deal of mental effort, he shakes his head in response. Perhaps he was angry before, he still can't tell, but he definitely isn't now. He can't manage anything beyond the simple gesture, but it's not the first time he's been utterly uncommunicative, so Phineas understands the meaning as well as he needs to: it's not your fault.

"Th-thanks," he stutters, although Ferb's acceptance does little to settle the crushing feeling of responsibility. "Next time you can speak I'll let you tell me whatever it is you needed to, okay? I promise." He smiles a little. "No more secret agent business to interrupt you."

The last sentence sure prompts a reaction from Ferb - he rolls over so that his face is entirely buried in the blanket and makes a frustrated noise without opening his mouth, his body shaking with some mixture of anger and physical strain. Phineas inhales sharply and recoils, no more prepared for an audible outburst from Ferb than the first time. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asks, already speed-testing possible answers in his head. "Did you not have fun today? Of- of course you didn't, that's why you're upset, but I thought you did a great job on the spy mission! It was really cool." He's trying to be reassuring, but Ferb just shakes harder, seemingly becoming more aggravated rather than less.

Phineas tilts his head in confusion. "Ferb? Ferb, it's okay, I-I'm sorry. Did... did it not go the way you planned?" he guesses, searching increasingly frantically for any change in Ferb's body language. "Hmm... oh, were you not finished building it yet?" He thinks back to Ferb's numerous attempts at speaking to him throughout the day, hoping that he'll find some clue that makes everything fall into place - and something clicks in his brain. He deflates a little at how painfully obvious the realisation seems in retrospect, with a soft "Oh." Sighing at his own ignorance, he directs his voice to Ferb again as he says, "You didn't actually build all that, did you?"

Ferb sits up slowly and turns to Phineas with his signature deadpan glare, the silent, biting sarcasm undermined significantly by the tears still falling from his eyes. Phineas hums concernedly. "Is that what you were trying to tell me?" he asks. Ferb gets partway through rolling his eyes before giving up and returning to the fetal position.

Phineas sighs sadly. He hates seeing his brother cry. There's nothing he wants to do more than pull him into the tightest hug he can manage, but he knows Ferb won't appreciate being touched in this state, so he opts to fiddle with his shirt again to keep his hands busy. "Who do you think did build that stuff?" he asks. Ferb doesn't care. On any other day, a secret spy lair being hidden under his house would be cause for immeasurable excitement, but after the day's events he's thoroughly sick of thinking about the subject. Phineas picks up on Ferb's antipathy towards the question and, sensing that it might be a sore topic for some time, decides not to bring it up again for a while. He'll satisfy his curiosity sometime when it doesn't come at the expense of Ferb's comfort.

An uncomfortable silence falls over the boys. It's broken when Ferb suddenly sniffles loud enough to make Phineas jump, sits up again, and halfheartedly tries to wipe the tears from his face. "Oh geez, hold on," Phineas says, leaning over to rummage through his short pockets. He eventually pulls out a wad of tissues, somehow unaffected by the earlier impromptu dive into Isabella's pool. He offers them with a gentle "here you go" to Ferb, who takes a few silently and scrubs at his eyes.

While he still doesn't feel good by any stretch of the definition, Ferb at least doesn't feel completely awful anymore. What was once a violent hurricane in his mind has receded enough that he can focus on the world around him without breaking down, at least for the time being, and he's left feeling just drained. He balls up his handful of tissues and tosses them at the bin under his desk. The ball makes it to Phineas' leg before unceremoniously bouncing to a stop. Phineas picks it up and throws it the rest of the way to the trash, standing up to do so.

Rather than sit down again, he kneels down and pulls out one of the drawers conveniently built into the bed. Ferb watches inquisitively, still too out of it to immediately catch onto what's happening. Phineas rummages a little before finally pulling out a pair of pyjamas, suggesting, "You should dry off and change your clothes." He pauses to think. "Can you make it downstairs to the bathroom by yourself?" he asks. At any other time, it would be a silly question, but Ferb is always exhausted after a meltdown. The visible effort it's taking him just to stay upright isn't lost on Phineas. Ferb ponders the question, then gives a tentative nod. He's definitely shaky, but he really wants to change into something dry.

"Great!" Phineas smiles encouragingly. "Should I bring the usual stuff to the living room? Your bed's probably not gonna feel comfortable until it dries out." Ferb glances down at the unmistakable damp silhouette of where he had been lying earlier and nods again, more confidently. He slowly gets to his feet, first pushing against his bed for support, then grasping the hand Phineas offers him. He lets go once he's certain he's regained his balance, and only then does Phineas hand him his pyjamas. "I'll come meet you downstairs, okay?" Phineas says. Then, pulling at the bottom of his shirt, which is still a bit soggy despite his best efforts to towel it off, he adds, "I should probably change into something dry as well."

---

Ferb rubs his eyes as he comes out of the bathroom, his drenched clothes swapped out for his much more comfortable pyjamas. He's stopped crying, it seems, but he's still feeling sensitive enough that the light from outside bothers him. He's relieved to discover that it's much darker in the living room - Phineas must have been here already. The curtains are drawn so that the lamp on the end table is the only light source in the room, softly illuminating its surroundings with a pleasant warm glow. He doesn't have the energy to analyse the entire room, even in these far more bearable conditions, but his attention is drawn to his favourite weighted blanket folded neatly on the couch. He sits down and drags the blanket over him, struggling a bit with the weight, but relaxing once he feels its reassuring pressure on his legs.

It's as he's settling into his position on the couch that Phineas enters with an "Oh, there you are, Ferb!". Perry is firmly but comfortably wedged under one of his arms, like a fuzzy teal football or loaf of bread, and seems altogether unbothered by his position. Ferb gasps quietly at the sight of Perry, his eyes brightening momentarily, and reaches out for him with various soft noises of urgency. Phineas wastes no time in setting Perry down next to Ferb, and the platypus reacts with a gentle, almost soothing chatter. Ferb instinctively mimicks the sound under his breath, and Perry responds with a nearly identical noise. Ferb echoes it again, slightly louder this time, and his face lights up with a weak smile, the first one he's managed all day.

Taking this as a sign of progress, Phineas sighs with relief as he sits on the sofa. He makes sure to maintain a respectful distance from Ferb, who's running a hand through Perry's fur as they echo the same low growling noise back at each other. (It pains Phineas not to join in, but he senses the two have gotten themselves into a groove that would be rude to interrupt.) Ferb's smile fades almost as soon as it appears, but he seems much more relaxed after the change in clothes and scenery. His hair is sticking up in every direction from being towelled dry, and Phineas stifles a laugh at how silly it looks. The back-and-forth chattering eventually dies down, and it's only then that Phineas continues. "Mom's gonna make you some tea, and she says if you aren't feeling better by dinner you can eat in here if you want," he says. Ferb turns to him and raises a thumbs-up briefly before returning his hand and focus to Perry.

Phineas quietly watches his brother for a moment before speaking again. "Do you want me to stay?" he asks. Exactly how sociable Ferb is while he's coming out of a meltdown varies. He almost invariably needs some time on his own to mentally reset, but sometimes it helps if someone he trusts is there to reassure him for a while first. In Phineas' experience, asking is always the best way to tell.

Ferb hesitates for a second, then surprises both of them with his answer, which is to turn and collapse into Phineas' lap with one arm hooked over his legs in a sort of pseudo-hug. Phineas tenses up, not sure how to react. He cautiously puts an arm around Ferb, in a comforting gesture that doesn't fully subject him to the overwhelming sensory experience of a true hug. Ferb doesn't fight it, just repositions himself so that he's lying down with Phineas as a makeshift pillow and sinks further into the gentle embrace. Phineas laughs softly. "Okay, I guess you do."

This is nice, Ferb thinks. Definitely an improvement over violently sobbing alone in his room. Perry must be feeling relaxed too, because he climbs onto Ferb's stomach, circles a few times, lets out one more chatter, then flops down and goes to sleep, purring gently. Phineas giggles at the platypus' behaviour, and Ferb's shoulders shake in silent laughter - his blanket absorbs enough of the sensation that it just tickles. Watching Perry doze off reminds him that he's still exhausted, despite the positive change in environment, and his attempt to stifle a yawn fails. He's still on high alert, and he knows he won't be sleeping for longer than a few minutes until the emotional clutter completely drains from his mind. With that said, both the blanket and Perry weighing down on him make for a pretty cosy combination, and he finds himself fighting to keep his eyes open. Maybe just a moment of rest will be good for him.

Before he knows it, his eyes are closed, and he's powerless to prevent himself from drifting off. Phineas accepts his new career as a pillow without comment, simply adjusting his right hand so that both his arms are positioned protectively around his brother. Being trapped in place for the time being doesn't worry him. Ferb won't mind being stirred awake when their mom arrives with his tea, and until then Phineas can easily occupy himself with thoughts of what to do tomorrow. Besides, he can subject himself to a few minutes of quiet if that's what Ferb needs. What kind of a brother would he be if he couldn't, right?

Ferb half-consciously brings a hand to Phineas' wrist, as if it'll float off if he isn't holding on. He can feel his brain shutting down, and he welcomes the change. The last thing he's aware of before his consciousness finally leaves him in peace for a moment is the sound of Phineas' voice, promising him, "You're gonna be okay."

[gringolet]

that italian?

okay okay okay i think it happened long enough ago that i can dish about the drama. she changed her url and im not including it anyway so its fine.

prepare for a fuckin. essay in responss to a TWO WORD ask but anyay

so once upon time there was an italian who hated children and loved reylo. she also hung out in the arthuriana tag and got a bunch of asks about it. so one day some poor anon comes in and asks if she has any trans headcanons for arthurian characters, and she, instead of being a normal person and saying like, no, she goes off about how trans characters in fanfic is forced representation and she cant talk about trans people bc surgery is triggering for her.

found this in the archives lol. so i rbd politely explaining that while it was fine to not have trans hcs, her justifications for it were a little offensive.

hey i dont want to start discourse or anything but i see ur asks in the tag a lot and i wanted to politely address this. firstly obviously no one is under any obligation to hc things, and headcanons and fandom is not activism. if you’d just said “no, not really” it would b fine. i mean, cringe of u, but fine. but u make a couple of points here i want to look at a bit critically. then there is “I don’t like when headcanons are pushed up as ~representation, especially when… Ehm, it’s just fandom stuff?” i dont want to misinterpret you or put words in your mouth, but the implication that theres no need for trans rep in fandom and dismissal of that is a very cis take. My initial read of your intention there was a complaint of ‘why should something like fandom spaces, which are for fun and not serious, be filled with non fun serious (bad) trans stuff that i have to see when im trying to enjoy myself.’ now that could be incorrect, you were a bit vague here. if that is what you meant, i think you maybe should examine why you feel that way. if it isnt, im unclear on what exactly youre trying to say here. the idea that trans hcs are performative wokeness and “representation” in fandom is completely ignoring the actual trans people making and wanting them. there is so vanishingly little representation of trans people in actual media and even less thats good, and i think implying trans hcs are being pushed on people and fandom for, ~representation (a world of meaning in the ~ i shant speculate on) is very dismissive and ignorant of that fact. honestly the main thing im troubled by is the idea that trans bodies are inherently disgusting and triggering, which is an incredibly harmful and hurtful idea, and since you yourself acknowledge that trans people and hcs dont predicate surgery i question why you bring it up, except as a justification for disconfort rooted in unexamined prejudice. im not accusing you of being a terf or anything, i dont believe you meant harm by this or have bad intentions, and im definitely not saying anyone has to hc anything. it was the uncomfronted insidiousness of your justification that concerned me. this is not a personal attack at all, you just have a lot of influence in this fandom space and i wanted to make you aware of some of the surely accidentally harmful things ur saying.

so she flips out and rbs that yelling at me and cursing me out in italian (she moved blogs so i dont have her whole response just bits)

basically she completely derailed the original topic and accused me of calling her a horrible person for her triggers? which i never did and would never do, and then tried to make it a wierd anti v proshipper thing

third: I never said there’s no need of trans hcs in fandoms, BUT I’ve noticed that there’s a tendency of condemning people on the basis of what they ship / the dynamics they write. ( like the infinite discourse about how ‘I ship only mlm enemies to lovers because f/m enemies to lovers are Inherently Bad and Abusive - something I personally heard on Twitter sigh ), so I feel the need to say it. blame the current fandom climate.

and were like wow, this lady is unhinged, so we look around her blog and find a. a lot of stuff like saying its racist to not like incest?? and that italians arent white?? also shes a swerf?? and kind of deniel italian colonialsm? and reblogs from a bunch of out and out terfs} there was more but this isnt a callout post lol.

valentine lanzelet made a post about this crazy italian we found and she flipped out on him (this is one of several cursey italian tag rants)

roughly means: GO SHIT YOURSELF (italian alternative to go fuck you), RACIST TERF IS YOUR GRANDMOTHER IN A WHEELBARROW (italian saying which does not translate well) AND WHAT HAS ITALIAN COLONIALISM TO DO WITH THIS YOU UGLY SHIT, and anyways lancelot sucks

(translated by claudio beheaded)

anyway so then. and this is when it gets unhinged. she goes on this server me and a lot of my mutuals n friends r in, camelot, and starts complaining about me.

(in red is the server admin, who was lovely) i asked her to move this convo to dms if she must bc it was rude to bring drama into the server, and she refused, and started insisting that she was being bullied and just wanted to be left alone, so i was like okay lets all block each other and move on, and she refused, continuing to defend everything she was being criticized for

they also said claudio was making them look bad by translating their rants which like... queen if that made them look bad they were already a bad look.

so she keeps pinging people and replying to shit despite everyone else at this point begging her to just drop it and call it a stalemate

imagine this but around n around for like an hour. also she repeatedly got me and valentine confused it was super funny. also she claimed it was an invasion of her privacy for valentine to go on her public blog and look at the things she openly said and rbd there

so the server got put in slow mode and she KEPT GOING even though everyone was just begging her to stop and not even responding

as u can see, around this point we just started spamming her with emoji reactions. she announced she was leaving then went back to arguing a full three times before finally dipping from the server

then she continued complaining about us and calling us puriteens in her tags (trying to make it a proshipper v anti thing i guess lol?)

for literally months before finally remaking. also in that time she got in an argument about how the crusades were fine actually. italianphobia works hard but she works harder i guess

anyway i prolly left out a lot but thats the italian saga

[emeto-no-jutsu]

Could you do an emto fic with sasuke being sick and a parental kakashi taking care of him?

Oooooh okay, my first request....it feels kinda nerve-wracking lmfao ngl

It's not my favorite thing I have ever written??? But enjoy?? And RB if you do??????

Anyway LMFAO enjoy the fic

TW:::::: Emeto, sickness and an emotionally repressed boi under the cut:::::::::

Kakashi frowned as he arrived at his team’s usual meeting spot. Sakura was already berating Naruto this early in the morning, but what caught his attention was the fact that one of his students, who was usually the most punctual, was missing.

“Where’s sasuke?” He asked as soon as he leapt off the railing above the bridge where he’d been observing the scene. Sakura stopped her rant at once, and Kakashi could see the uneasiness etched on her face. Naruto huffed, rolling his eyes at the mention of his teammate with a pout.

“That’s what we were talking about, sensei.” The pinkette explained. “He’s usually the first one to arrive…”

“Stupid Teme probably overslept-”

“Shut up you idiot!” The girl snapped ferociously, making the blond flinch as her green eyes glared at him. “This is Sasuke-kun we’re talking about! If he’s late he must have a good enough reason!” 

Kakashi sighed at their antics, but couldn’t deny that the girl had a point. He’d expect something like this from Naruto, not from Sasuke, and the fact that he didn’t warn the team of his absence beforehand was all the more concerning. “I think we should go check on him, Kakashi-sensei.” 

“Yeah, I think so too,” Kakashi didn’t know if her request stemmed from actual worry or if she didn’t want to miss the opportunity to go to the boy’s house for the first time, but considering how out of character this whole situation was he felt like this would be the appropriate course of action.

Naruto complained a little, promptly earning a blow to the head from Sakura, and soon they were on their way. The two kids followed Kakashi as they approached Sasuke’s neighborhood, reaching the Uchiha’s address not fifteen minutes later.

They were beginning to think Sasuke wasn’t even home at all before the door was answered after the doorbell was rang for the third time, and maybe Sakura’s concern was valid because the boy truly looked awful. 

His bangs seemed to be plastered to his forehead with sweat and there was a greenish hue under his paler-than-normal complexion. His onyx eyes were bloodshot as he glared at them and Kakashi could see the shirtless boy was making an effort to not hunch over. “What?”

“Um...y-you were late for training,” Sakura stammered, ignoring the raging flush that took over her complexion at seeing her crush bare-chested. 

“I’m sick?” The boy stated the obvious. “Didn’t you see the bunshin I sent?”

“In your state, I wouldn’t be surprised if it dissipated before reaching us,” Said Kakashi.

“Yeah Sasuke, you really do look like crap,” Naruto commented, earning a glare both from Sakura and Sasuke, but the latter didn't really hold any force behind it.

“Well, if that’s all then,” The boy tried to shut the door on their faces, but Kakashi pushed it open with ease, letting himself in and willingly ignoring Sasuke’s deep scowl.

“What?!”

“We need to make sure you’re okay, Sasuke-kun,” Sakura said as she and Naruto followed Kakashi inside the apartment. It was all very neat, but you would expect as such from someone like Sasuke. 

“I’ll be fine,” The boy retorted tiredly, not even having enough energy to argue, which in itself was a big red flag. “Can’t you three just leave me alone for once?”

“No, we can’t,” Kakashi responded easily as he watched the boy heavily sit at his sofa, swallowing hard with a pained grimace that indicated clearly that his last statement was a lie.

“What’s wrong? Have you been throwing up?”

“That’s all I’ve been doing since I woke up,” 

“Aw, Sasuke-kun…” Sakura cooed sitting beside him and rubbing his shoulder, but the boy clearly didn’t appreciate the display of affection as he flinched like a cat drenched in water. 

“Look, I’ll probably be fine tomorrow,” He hissed. “I don’t want you all here,”

“Woah there Sasuke, no need to get all snarky just because of a tummy ache!” Naruto teased maliciously through a grin, making the older boy scowl.

“Just...shut up, Naruto,” Sasuke didn’t look like he could come up with a good comeback even if he wanted to. Kakashi narrowed his eyes as his face blanched slightly, a very subtle twitch in his eyebrows that would go unnoticed by lesser shinobi indicated that the boy was focusing every ounce of discipline on trying to not let his face betray how he truly felt. “You would know all about that, wouldn’t you Dobe?” He managed to shoot back through clenched teeth.

“Y’know what Teme-”

“Quit it Naruto!” Sakura roared besides sasuke, making the boy wince. “Can’t you see he isn’t feeling well?!”

“That applies to both of you,” Kakashi spoke up for the sake of his student, who seemed ready to hurl at any minute now and all that yelling they had grown used to could not be helping. “Actually, I need you two to bring some things from the store, after that you’re dismissed for today,”

“B-But Kakashi-Sensei!” Sakura stood up. “Won’t you need help taking care of him?!”

“I’m sure I can handle this myself, Sakura,” The man said, handing her the cash he had retrieved from his pocket. “Get some stomach relaxers, probably something for fever too...Oh, make sure to get him something to drink with electrolytes in it, got it?”

Sakura clearly disappointed at being ushered out the door by Kakashi and even Naruto seemed like he’d rather stay, but they were known for disrupting the peace, and that was clearly not what the raven haired boy needed at the moment.

Sure enough, Kakashi had barely closed the door when the kid shot up on rather wobbly legs and quickly made a beeline to the bathroom. Kakashi grimaced when he heard the loud retch that echoed through the house and followed the boy.

Sasuke groaned when the man kneeled down to his level and started rubbing his back, but didn’t fight it. Kakashi made sure to keep his long bangs out of the danger zone as Sasuke retched mouthfuls of murky vomit in waves. It was clear that he didn’t have much left in him to puke up, but his body seemed to not get that memo quite yet.

After about ten minutes he inhaled sharply, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, slumping slightly against Kakashi. “You’re done?”

“Dunno,” His voice sounded rather slurred, which was uncharacteristic, and closed his eyes. His arms snaked around his middle tightly and Kakashi sighed, not letting go of his shoulders.

“We should probably get you in bed,” Sasuke nodded after a moment of hesitance. He flushed the toilet and stood up on his own, insisting he didn’t need help and Kakashi didn’t try to argue in order to not upset the already sick boy, but he did stay close behind.

Soon he was situated on his bed. “You can leave now,” He said to his sensei, trying to sound sharp but only emphasizing how shaky he sounded. “I can take care of myself.”

“Hmm, can you?” Kakashi humored the boy. “Have you taken your temperature yet? Or tried to keep yourself hydrated at all?” His already flushed cheeks darkened and he avoided his eyes which said no as clearly as if he had said it out loud. “Do you even own a thermometer?”

“Obviously,” He replied caustically and Kakashi ignored his tone as he went on to search for said thermometer. Thankfully, with Sasuke being as organized as he was it didn’t take too long for him to find it inside the first aid’s kid under the bathroom sink. 

he walked back into the room not five minutes later with the emptied trash can from the bathroom and thermometer in hand. Sasuke already seemed on the verge of drifting off to sleep, and Kakashi almost felt bad for having to rouse him up again. “I need to take your temperature, open up.”

“Tch,” Sasuke unceremoniously grabbed the contraption from his sensei’s hands and stuck it under his own tongue. Kakashi just rolled his eyes, that kid was too proud for his own good.

“Well okay then,”  Said him with an exasperated sigh. “Keep that in for three minutes.”

“I know,”

“Of course you do.”

The boy pouted, and Kakashi allowed himself to crack an amused grin under the mask. Even mature and stoic, first in his class, prodigy Sasuke Uchiha was still, at the end of the day, only just a kid. Kahashi saw himself so much in that boy that it was almost painful, but he chose not to dwell on that at that moment.

The thermometer finally beeped, and Kakashi was slightly relieved when Sasuke handed it to him. Sure, he had a fever, but it was far more manageable than the man first thought. His drowsy voice must have been a product of exhaustion and exertion. “You’re gonna be fine,”

“I keep telling you-”

“You still have a fever,” Kakashi interrupted pointedly. “I’m just glad I don’t have to drag you to the hospital because of it,” Sasuke rolled his eyes, burying himself under the sheets. and turning on its side. “Alright, I’ll let you sleep. The other two should be back with your medicine soon though,”

Sasuke let out one of his usual noncommittal grunt and Kakashi offered a concealed wry smile, ruffling his hair like he usually did and closing the door behind him.

When he got to the living room he noticed a small brown paper bag at the coffee table with a little note attached to it. He didn’t know if he should feel ashamed for not even noticing his students’ presence while he was busy with Sasuke or if he ought to commend Sakura and Naruto for their stealth.

He considered giving Sasuke his medication right away, but decided against it. He seemed fine for now and the kid had just gotten to sleep.

“What are you still doing here?”

He would be okay, Kakashi would make sure of that.

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

Kakashi looked up from his book with raised eyebrows to the young uchiha frowning at him from the hallway,though the fact that he was wrapped around a rather fluffy comforter didn’t make him nearly as intimidating . “Making sure my student doesn’t keel over,” Sasuke huffed. “I’m a good sensei,” The look on his face indicated that he was itching to disagree, but instead he just rubbed his eyes, blinking tiredly as he watched night set in through the window.

“What time is it?” 

“About six,”

“Six?” He narrowed his eyes, confusion clouding his features and Kakashi had a feeling he seemed more out of it than before he went to sleep. “But it was morning…?”

“Yup. And then noon, then afternoon. Now it’s evening,” 

“I slept a lot…” The boy mumbled, not picking up the irony. He looked far younger suddenly, with his flushed cheeks and still rubbing his sleep out of his eyes, the comforter making him seem smaller than he really was. 

“Well, you needed it,” Kakashi didn’t miss the way he swayed slightly as he walked up to sit besides him, crashing down on the sofa with a heavy huff. “How do you feel?”

He blinked, considering himself for a moment before responding. “I’m slightly...dizzy,”

“You’re dehydrated,” Kakashi said, pressing his palm against the boy’s forehead and ignoring the groan of protest. “And your fever seems to have gone up. How’s your stomach?”

“Not good,” Kakashi nodded, heading towards the kitchen where he’d already set the tablets and the electrolyte-enhanced water, now regretting not administering it to the kid earlier. He walked back to the room, deciding it’d be better if he brought along a deep mixing bowl too just in case.

“Here,” Sasuke wordlessly took the supplies from his hand and uncapped the water bottle, quickly gulping at least half of it before Kakashi had a chance to stop him. “Oi, not too fast! You’re gonna make yourself sick,” Kakashi took the bottle out of his hands quickly, shaking his head.

“But I’m thirsty,”

“Yeah, I can see that!” Kakashi watched the way his body reacted to the sudden influx of fluid warily, but when everything seemed to stay put he handed the bottle back to him. “Slow sips, and take the meds.” 

Sasuke mumbled something under his breath that sounded awfully like a jab at his sensei but it went ignored as Kakashi walked back to the kitchen and returned with a steaming bowl and a pair of chopsticks each with an unnerving expression that indicated he was smiling behind the mask.

Sasuke groaned, tossing back the medicine and pailing as the smell of food reached his nose. “What is that?”

“Broth and noodles,”kakashi answered with those same smiling eyes that made sasuke want to hide under his comforter.

“Kakashi-sensei,” Sasuke drew a deep breath as his sensei set the offending bowl at the table in front of him. “Please don’t ask me to eat that.”

“I’m not asking, Sasuke.” He said firmly, making the boy wince in aversion. “You need to at least try to eat something,”

“It even won’t stay down…” His voice sounded almost whiny, a quality Kakashi would never attribute to the Uchiha. The man let out a breath, feeling sympathetic towards his student.

“Well, it’s better to have something on your stomach too, y’know, bring up.” He assured, ruffling his hair before pushing the bowl to his hands. “C’mon, you don’t have to eat everything right now,”

Sasuke sighed heavily, closing his eyes as though he was having a very serious internal debate before shrugging, taking the bowl from Kakashi’s hand and taking a tentative sip from the broth.

He was rather pleasantly surprised. The taste wasn’t strong, which he was thankful for, but also not revoltingly bland, the noodles were just the right texture and even in his state he could appreciate good food, and couldn’t help but wonder- “Did you make this?”

Kakashi, who was back to reading his debauched book by that point, smirked at him. Or rather, Sasuke assumed he did. “What’s with the tone of surprise?”

“It’s…” He could feel the broth warm him from inside out, and even though there was still an uncomfortable tightness assaulting his stomach it seemed settled for the moment. “It’s really good.”

“Thanks,” Kakashi ruffled his hair annoyingly. He did this so often Sasuke didn’t even mind anymore. “It’s made with love,”

“Shut up,” He mumbled, feeling his cheeks heat up more than they already were and Kakashi let out an airy laugh through his mask, but soon they fell into a comfortable silence. 

The soup really was good, but something that Sasuke couldn’t quite put into words made it slightly better. it wasn’t a matter of taste but a feeling deep inside him that he associated with it. 

And then he remembered a very similar dish Mikoto prepared for him every time he felt even slightly under the weather and felt his heart clench.

It seemed like as soon as he realized the memories weighed his mind like a brick. He used to fall ill rather often as a child, and every time without fail he would be coddled and pampered by his mother.

And of course, Itachi. 

It was almost set in stone. He’d so much as start sniffling and the house would be filled with those same smells, she’d tuck him in, Itachi would let him sleep with him more often than not. Now that he thought about it, he didn’t think he’d been this sick since-

He dropped his chopsticks as his hands slacked. Suddenly, his ears were ringing as he felt his throat swell up and his mouth water. He couldn’t even hear what Kakashi had said before his head was forced downwards and the bowl of soup was replaced by a plastic mixing bowl just in time for him to let out a wet burp that carried with it a good portion of his undigested meal.

His stomach which had been pleasantly stable for the better part of the last hour felt like it was about to be torn apart as his once pleasant meal rushed out of him violently, barely allowing him any time to breath.

Kakashi had pinned his hair back at one point and was rubbing soothing circles around his back, but he wished he didn’t, as it reminded him too much of a simpler past. Sasuke had grown used to dealing with things such as this on his own, and having someone be so nurturing for the first time in years was almost triggering to him.

His abdomen contracted roughly against his will and he spewed violently once again. His throat felt raw, his sinus was burning with the bits and pieces that got stuck there during the whole ordeal and his stomach felt so sore that he couldn’t suppress the pathetic whine that left him when he was done.

“Kami-sama…” Kakashi muttered under his breath. “You shouldn’t have forced yourself,” Kakashi didn’t understand what had triggered this sudden and severe bout of sickness, but he preferred it that way. He didn’t even truly know himself. “Are you-”

“I’m fine,” Sasuke forced through gritted teeth, but this statement couldn’t be farther from the truth. He was shaking, he could barely breathe without his airways burning, his body pulsated with the strain and his mind was clouded with fever and memories he’d do anything to forget. 

He pushed the filthy bowl Kakashi was still holding under his chin aside and supported his head on his hands, groaning pitifully as Kakashi decided to run a hand through his hair. Why was he doing that? Sasuke wanted to scream when he felt a knot form on his throat and his eyes sting.

He was not going to cry. Not in front of his fucking sensei. He wasn’t a child, so why the hell was Kakashi still trying to comfort him like he was? 

Kakashi pulled Sasuke into an embrace before the boy could really realize what was happening, a hand protectively holding his head while the other patted him on the back. “You’re gonna be okay,” He said, his voice taking a tone Sasuke had never heard before. He tried to pull away because he smelled of vomit and sweat and this was weird, but Kakashi’s iron grip wouldn’t let him. “You are not alone anymore.”

And maybe it was the fever messing with his mind, maybe he was simply too sick to do anything about it, but there were tears running down his face before the man had said those words. A sob escaped his chest, then another, and Kakashi refused to let him go. 

Not being alone was such a foreign concept to him that it was intimidating. How could he allow people to see beyond the mask he had crafted for himself to cope. How could he allow his sensei, one of the most notorious shinobis of his era see him in his most weak, pathetic state?

But when was the last time he was held like this? That he was assured everything would be okay? 

When was the last time he was actually cared for?

And it felt good. It felt so good that he soon found himself reciprocating Kakashi’s embrace and burying his face in his chest. If the man was bothered that he was smearing tears, snot and more than likely vomit all over his flak jacket, he didn’t show it.

Sasuke sobbed himself hoarse that night, four years of bottled up emotions and traumas seemingly exploding out of him at once, and Kakashi never left his side. Later on neither shinobi would ever speak about the events of that evening ever again.

Undoubtedly though, something shifted in their relationship after that. Sasuke thought that he’d lost everyone he would even know as family on that godforsaken day, but family had a way to creep up on you unexpectedly, whether you liked it or not.

Sasuke started appreciating his teacher a lot more than he ever thought possible.

[human-trash-fire]

Shot Through The Heart: CH4

I couldn’t wait to share the next chapter, so you beautiful humans are getting it early! As always mad shout-outs to everyone who is following along/ RB/ liking this fic <3 I can’t tell you all how fucking grateful I am for all of you. 

special thanks to @highqueenofelfhame​ for previewing the fic and making me feel like it’s worth it to write!

As always the fic is available in its entirety on ao3 glam_reaper2

** IMPORTANT NOTE: The header image is 100% what Rowan imagines when she takes a shot even though it definitely didn’t go down that way.**

******************************************************************************** Aelin:

Two weeks had come and gone since she had hauled the giant box full of goodies to the post office. Fenrys told her that mail was always delayed but that he was both excited and grateful they had sent them something. She made him promise two things: one, he wouldn’t tell the rest of the cadre that a package was coming. Aelin knew that they mentioned sending the boys something, but she didn’t want them to know when. And two, they had to open their care packages ‘Yulemas style’ all sitting around, on Skype, so Lys, Elide and her could watch their faces/ get a chance to finally talk to them face to face. 

During those two weeks they continued their flirty conversation when he wasn’t on mission and away from his phone. She woke up nearly every morning to a text, and fell asleep texting him each night. After the first few days they had moved their conversation off twitter, they iMessaged back and forth and had exchanged Snapchat information so they could send each-other little videos and such. Talking to Fenrys was comfortable. He found a way to brighten almost any situation, and she found that anytime she was irritated recently he could always cheer her up. She kept most of her past private, and though he volunteered more intimate details of his life he never pushed her to share hers. It was nice, if she was being honest, even if this went absolutely no where she was so glad to have met him.

Fenrys told her stories about his friends too, Aelin got the impression that he was kind of like their glue. He was the youngest at 27 (apparently Connall was born 3 minutes earlier and had lorded that fact over him for as long as he could remember). Vaughn and Gavriel were both 28, Rowan was 29, and Lorcan (Elide’s new project) was 30. He and Connall had enlisted when they were 18, they attended training in Perranth and ended up qualifying for special forces at an unheard of 19. That’s when they met the others, the Cadre. Aelin laughed so hard when she found out that’s what they’re known as in the military world, she had thought she was just being cheeky when she’d called them so in their video. That’s also how Connall had met Vaughn. Apparently, he spent 4 years pining after him. 

>> So how did they end up together?

 << It was so obvious they were into each other but too ‘bro’ to say anything. Worried about “team dynamic” or whatever, because Gods know we didn’t give a shit if they’re together. Then one day we’re taking shots at a bar, Con is talking to some dude, I think he was honestly trying to get over his feelings. Vaughn sees this and gets mad jealous, slams a double shot of Johnny Walker, mutters ‘fuck it’ and storms right up to them. He grabs other dude by the shoulder, shoved him out of the way, and right as Con was about to say something he kissed him. We cheered, we all got entirely too drunk, and now here we are! It’s been 4 years and I’m so happy for them.

>> That’s fucking amazing, and honestly romantic! <3

The Cadre as it stood now had been the most elite team for 8 years, running blackops around the world. And tonight was the night she and the girls would get to talk to them for the first time. Aelin was so excited she could barely contain it, there was nothing more fulfilling than giving someone a gift in her opinion.

*********************************************************

Rowan:

They finally had some down time. Command had promised them 2 days, which was more time than Rowan had expected. They’d been running themselves ragged ever since they discovered Maeve was in country. There was talk about an intel operative gathering more information on her plan, but so far they hadn’t gotten the call Rowan had waited 5 years for. He wanted a green light. He wanted her dead. He was stuck waiting on orders, and had spent 2 weeks seething while they ran, in his opinion, bullshit missions up and down the sector. 

It had also been two weeks since Rowan had woken up to two instagram notifications. He had, in all honesty, forgotten he had the app. Work was his life, and he was never big on social media, but there they were. It was 0330 and he reached over, seeing the notifications he clicked and his jaw hit the floor. Aelin Galathynius had not only followed him but liked one of his pictures… The oldest picture there. What the fuck? He thought as he stared at her name right below the picture. This has to be an accident, but why would she be looking this far back? He didn’t really know how to feel about it. She was stunning, she was famous, and she was Fen’s date. She shouldn’t be liking his shit on instagram. She should even know who he was. 

He clicked her name.

There were hundreds of pictures, her with her friend’s, her with her dog, her with nearly every famous young person in Orynth. There were red carpet photos and vacation photos, little videos from different movie sets and links to fundraisers for various social causes. He didn’t realize he’d been scrolling through them for so long until Fenrys yelled at him for sleeping in. He quickly shut down the app and hurried off.

For the next two weeks he found himself going back to her instagram more that any healthy person should. There was something about her eyes, there had always been something about her eyes, since the first time he saw her on screen. They swallowed him whole, it was like drowning in an ocean of fire and- what the hell is wrong with you? Get your shit together Whitethorn. He chided himself. His mind was all over the damn place. Fenrys, as expected, hadn’t kept to his “no talking about her ever again” end of the bargain. Being his spotter he was with him nearly 18 hours a day, the boy never shut up. Apparently they hadn’t stopped talking, and Rowan caught him sending stupid snapchats or typing furiously with a shit-eating grin on his face nearly ever moment they were back with their phones. Everytime his face lit up, or he said something like “Aelin was saying…” he found himself clenching his jaw. He had no idea why, he was happy for Fen, this was his dream come true. 

Rowans jaw hurt.

*********************************

“Wash up boys, and try to look presentable, meet me in the office at 1700. Don’t fucking be late,” Fenrys said to them after training. It may be down time, but they all still met at the base gym for a few hours of PT in the afternoon.

“What the hell for?” Lorcan grumbled. Fenrys just winked and sauntered towards the showers.

1655 on the dot Rowan walked into the office, followed by Connall and Vaughn. The others were already there, Lorcan and Gavriel looking just as confused as he felt, and Fenrys with that insufferable grin plastered on his face. He had showered, brushed his hair, and put on possibly the tightest shirt he owned with a pair of black joggers. Rowan caught his eye and lifted a brow.

“Alright you grumpy bastards, grab a chair and come here,” Fenrys instructed while pointing towards the projector they used for movie nights. It had a camera attached to the top for more official calls with command, and they often used it to Skype their families back home. Skype was pulled up now, and they all found their seats in front of the screen. Rowan sitting towards the center chair that was left open for Fen. Vaughn and Connall had taken the two to his right while Lorcan and Gavriel brought up the other end. 

Fen was dragging a giant box out from beneath his desk when the familiar ringing began to echo through the room. He immediately dropped it in front of his chair and scrambled to answer the call. “Hello gorgeous,” he purred as the image on the screen in front of them came into focus. Once again, the cadre was floored. 

“Hello handsome,” Aelin winked. “Gentleman” she nodded to them all and stepped back. Alongside her sat Elide and Lysandra, smiling and waving at the screen. The men sat up a little straighter, and awkwardly waved back.

“Is it ready?” Aelin practically squealed.

“Yeah! Should I open it?” Fenrys asked, and Rowans attention shot back to the moving box in front of their chairs. No way, he thought. They had mentioned the possibility of sending them something but he didn’t honestly believe it would happen. Agreeing to come to the ball was already unbelievable, but a care package? The box was so big it easily could have fit a body. 

“One second. Okay so Hi, I’m Aelin, obviously, and these are my girls.” She gestured beside her. “It’s so nice to officially get to talk to you all! We’ve heard so much about you from Fen.”

Fen, she says. Like they’re close. Rowan’s jaw clenched again. He shook his head and crossed his arms, then uncrossed them because he realized he probably looked rude. He didn’t know what to do with his hands and was so busy trying to look nonchalant he was startled when he heard his name.

“Whitethorn!” Fen yelled, it clearly wasn’t the first time he’d called for him. “Say hello to the women and try and remember your manners.”

“Oh,” he cleared his throat. “Hey... I’m Rowan.”

“We know,” Aelin smiled, and Rowan was momentarily stupid.

“Okay, as much fun as official introductions are, Fen can you open the box? Inside it are smaller boxes with each of your names. Enjoy!” Aelin chimed. As Fenrys ripped open the box Elide and Lysandra started asking each of them questions. At the same time Aelin reached past the camera to grab 3 shot glasses and a bottle of Johnny Walker. Jealous Rowan thought. That was his favorite drink. Of course she would drink it, she looks like that, and shoots whiskey. Gods have mercy...

Fenrys passed him a large box, and when they each held their own he spoke again. “This is like Yulemas Ace, thank  you! Can we just tear them open or do we go one at a time?” Ace? How adorable. Rowan’s eyes found Aelin’s again, and it felt like she was looking at him, but it was a giant screen and that was nonsense.

“Oh, tear in! Fen told us a little about each of you so we tried to go with things you might like. I hope we guessed right!” Aelin’s smile was like the sun, as he looked down to begin opening the package on his lap Rowan felt a rare smile grace his own lips in response. With a loud cracking noise 6 boxes popped open, and the room was filled with “NO WAY”s and “ THANK YOU”s as the cadre tore through their gifts. 

On the top of each box was an Orynth Bane Jersey, they were all Ashryver jerseys (obviously) and stitched in the pro style. As he unfurled his he realised that the entire team had signed the jerseys for each of the men. He began shaking his head, this was already more than they could have ever asked for.

“The boys wanted to say thank you as well! Aideon and Ren got you all, and us, some front row, 50 yard line-” At that Elide made an unladylike snort, Aelin choked, and Lysandra glared. The Cadre was clearly missing something. Aelin cleared her throat in an attempt to recover, “50 yardline tickets. Whole VIP experience for the Adarlan game in November!” She finished, and that statement was met with cheers from all of them. The Bane was their favorite team, and while they had seen a couple games they never could have dreamt of what she was talking. Granted her cousin was the starting QB and “Ren” was his best running-back. This is insane he thought.

With the jersey, and tickets out of the way Rowan looked back into the box. Sitting right there was a bottle of Johnny Walker black label, 3 expensive cigars, a cutter, a lighter, and a shot glass that read “SSG Whitethorn reporting for Booty.” He didn’t know when he had started giggling like a school boy, but he was entirely sure he looked like an idiot. 

He looked up with his shot glass in hand, and stared at the screen. The others still had their heads in their boxes, but he was looking at her. “Classic,” he wiggled the shot glass “Thank you so much Aelin.” She smiled a soft smile, and nodded. 

He glanced around and saw his friends had all received a bottle of their favorite liquor as well, Connall and Vaughn were already lighting a cigar each while digging through the rest of their boxes. The smoke was sweet, and the room smelled of vanilla and burnt sugar. The girls were currently taking shots on skype and clapping when something new was unveiled or explaining why they included certain random things.

“Salvaterre!” Elide shouted. The tiny woman’s cheeks had begun to flush, she was clearly feeling the shots she had taken so far. Lorcan’s head shot up and she giggled, he sat up a little straighter, and she leaned into the camera. “There’s something a little special in there for you, you’ll know it when you see it. That’s from me. You’re welcome.” She winked and Rowan swore his friend blushed. The rest of the men had seen it too because everyone began laughing, and he made a note to try and figure out what exactly she’d sent that made him act that way. 

The next thing he unpacked was a pair of super lush running shoes, Fenrys clearly had given all their shoe sizes to the women because he was holding a $200 pair of black sneakers. It was beyond too much but Aelin looked so excited when they all started trying them on, the desert ruined your shoes. The last items in the box were something else entirely. A small stuffed hawk sat in one corner, it wore a nametag: Buzzard. He raised it and an eyebrow to the screen and Aelin started laughing. “Buzzard?” he asked.

“Indeed sir. Can’t tell you why though, it’s a secret.” She slammed a shot back “You each got a little stuffed animal to keep you company on the long nights. Since you can’t have puppies in the desert apparently.” He shook his head laughing, this girl was too much. Next to where the Hawk had been laying was a wrapped package. He lifted it up and was about to tear it open when she half screamed, “WAIT! Okay so, wait. This is my favorite gift.” She had everyone’s attention now turned to him. Fenrys was laughing, apparently he knew what came next.

“Oooookayyyyyy.. I’m a little nervous,” Rowan admitted. He didn’t like the spotlight on him like this.

“Well here’s the thing, as you can see everyone got their favorite sweets,” she made a sweeping motion at the camera. “Candy is an important food group, but Fen said you don’t like sugar or something. Which by the way is blasphemous. Anyways, I asked what your favorite food was and he said-”

“MEAT ON A STICK!” The entire cadre chorused, along with all three women on screen. They were all laughing like it was the funniest thing they had ever heard. 

“But I couldn’t send you a kabob, so I figured this would be the next best thing!!”

He tore open the package in his hands. Sitting there were 8 bags of beef jerky and a packet of skewers. He started laughing  so hard, tears were streaming down his face, “Thank you!” he croaked between fits of laughter. 

After the gifts were all opened, cigars were lit and shots were poured. The group drank and laughed for hours. At one point the girls started playing music on their end, and the Rowan found himself singing along with everyone to Bohemian Rhapsody and watching Aelin dance on her kitchen table. It was the lightest he’d felt in years. Lorcan and Elide had exchanged numbers and he could see the girl texting him from the screen. Connall and Vaughn were in the corner in matching jerseys kissing and dancing to the music on the speakers.

They eventually said their goodnight’s, and another round of heartfelt thank you’s. As Rowan half stumbled into his bed he found himself still smiling and holding the small stuffed Hawk that smelled of lavender and embers.

***************************************************************

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[birdlingstarot]

Hi 💗💗 I would like to know if my jealous friend, RB has a crush on me or if there's another reason why she's possessive when I interact with men. I talked to her and didn't get much. Sorry for the personal ask, CJ 💋

Hello  🌻 CJ 💋!

Please do not worry about it being personal! I’m totally okay with them. 😊

A little birdie told me this 🕊

There is something I would like to tell you before you dive into the reading and is important that you do. This reading for you might not be what you want to hear and can be considered heavy. Please only proceed if you are comfortable and resonates with it. Please feel free to stop reading if you are feeling too uncomfortable or overwhelmed. Do feel free to message me if you need to talk.

I had put a small section right at the bottom where I had labelled ‘Warning’. It touches on mental issues which can be a trigger. Through the reading, there are also heavy issues such as low self-esteem that can be a trigger so please proceed with caution. 

If you would like this to be taken down, please feel free to tell me and I will as soon as I can. Take care of yourself and proceed carefully, okay? 

Why does RB seem possessive of you to you? 

Eistibus - Angel of Divination

The communication is murky here. On RB’s side, she had yet to be able to clearly identify her feelings and thoughts about and around you, even herself. 

In addition, you possess an innate healing quality that you might not even be aware of and is just starting to come to light.

Currently, you feel the need to fully understand the situation as right now, you feel out of control, that whatever you do, they’re just not wielding out the result that you want to achieve. It is okay to feel that way and is a very normal reaction.

However, you are now called to put your need to feel in control, to know everything behind your back. This meant that right now, you are called and pulled into this situation to step back and let fate do its job. 

Right now, you are learning that you do not need to be in control at all times and be comfortable with letting go of said control sometimes, just so you can step back, calm down and observe.

You tend to be someone that want actions. If something is or goes wrong, you have a need to want to fix it immediately. This is not a bad quality to possess. This quality could very well had bled into this relationship where RB seems to be keeping her silence and seemingly keeping secrets from you, especially regarding your relationship together, as friends, etc.

Communication is very important to you and is something that directly impacts your mood and happiness, which further the feelings of frustration and seemingly unable to understand the situation despite putting in effort.

On RB’s end, there is something weighing on her heart that she can’t seem to let go of and is influencing her in not only her mood, but also how she acts, especially around you. This weight seems to be something deeply rooted in her and is actually something from her past that she had suppressed and pushed down for far too long and is now coming to light. She is trying and learning to come to terms with it and to let go of this weight that she has. 

She likely had sensed your healing energy, your capability and capacity of healing and healing energy, and had unconsciously sought you out. In addition, you have great communication skills and qualities which is something that she needs help on since her communication is currently blocked because:

1. She doesn’t know what to say or found the right words to say (her thoughts are in a mess, very noisy etc.)

2. Her low confidence is affecting her and forcing her to keep quiet on things, similar to how one feel that they shouldn’t tell others their problems because others have a lot on their plate and they don’t want to add to that, as well as thinking that they are not worth others’ time and affection etc.

3. She doesn’t want to negatively impact others around her, such as bringing the mood down etc., especially yours

You do not need to worry as things will come to light soon and things will become clear to you once more.

Six of Rings; Nine of Swords; Queen of Cups; I - The Magician; King of Cups

RB is experiencing a turmoil in her mind that is trying to bring balance between her emotions and logic side. She is trying to rationalise things in her mind as well as trying to control her emotions with what she deems logically. However, this was done in a way that is not the best for her as she is not only pushing down her feelings, she is also chastising herself on why she is being illogical as well as minimalizing her feelings and their importance. She is generally being too hard and harsh on herself.

She needs someone who will stop her in her tracks of thinking and overly criticising herself to the point that it could be considered hate.

This issue had likely stemmed from her past, what people had told her or scolded her for. She is her own worst enemy at this point as she is pushing down herself even further and not supporting herself when she needs to.

This is a huge issue and heavy rock in her heart and mind that is affecting her mood, actions and verbal communication. She has likely chastised herself about what she said and/or not said, how she said it etc. 

However, she does not want to feel that way anymore. She wants to stop fighting.

In a way, she sought you out because you are on the more straightforward side of the spectrum compared to her. She enjoys and respect the fact that you are not afraid of trying to communicate with her and talk to her about some things that are bothering you, especially about her.

Sure, she chastise herself again for making you feel that way and her actions, however, she prefers it over overthinking herself and chastising more about herself with things that you might not even feel and the mere fact that she is overthinking and could easily resolve this through talking and speaking with you yet is unable to gather the courage to do so.

Confronting someone as well as talking to someone about this issue she has terrifies her.

She, in her own way, is looking out for you. In fact, in a way, she puts you above herself and likely many others as well. This comes in the form of not telling you about what had been bothering her. She believes that she’s a huge mess and shouldn’t bother anyone with it because she is undeserving of it (which is not true and honestly, everyone can be messes at times and even all the time, but that’s what she believes). Even when you become vulnerable with her, instead of returning it with her own vulnerability, she can shut herself up about her issue even further because she does not want to bother you.

Her issues stem from her thoughts and believes. Her mind is like a muddy pond and a lotus. Currently, the lotus is her issues that is/are weighing heavily on her, seemingly blooming further and emerging despite all that she tried to push it down and cut it off, seemingly unstoppable in their tracks. However, at the same time, she has the ability, capability and capacity to turn those same heavy issues into the muddy water and emerges from it all, better, brighter and stronger. 

She is very willing to consider the circumstances of others. In fact, you might had notice some or a few changes after you had talked to her. Whether you feel positively or negatively about it, that is what she deems the better action to take for her and it would not be a surprise if she is still thinking about the better course of actions to take, by herself or with a few others.

Yes, she does speak to people sometimes to ask for advice and show vulnerability. However, this heavy issue that weighs on her is likely something she had never spoken deeply about. She might had brought it up a few or couple of times but usually skim through and pass it, saying something along the lines of ‘don’t worry about it’ and that ‘I’m fine, it’s in the past anyway’.

Despite how far past the issue might go, it is still affecting her.

In fact, she might had, in a way, come to terms with it. Bittersweet if you will. She had accepted what she feel and thoughts as facts and is living with it. To put into a perspective, for example, you are bad at cooking and you accept that. In the same or similar manner, she had done the same to what had been weighing on her.

You might find that she cries easily over things, especially things that had gone wrong, done wrong or when she’s scolded. You might find her emotional at times, even when the situation does not call for it or when you didn’t or least expects it. 

She can be very giving in her own way. If you ask her for help, it is very likely that she will try her best to help you, even going further than most others would.

However, she likely had a fantasy of being ‘saved’. Similarly to in fairytales where the princesses were saved by princes and they live happily ever after, she holds this idealised fantasies that can and some had become over-emotional fantasies. 

You might find that she has extreme and/or too idealised opinions and ideas on romance. For example, you might find her saying that the partner must do this and that and must not do this and that although those things that she had mentioned could very well not had been what you would deem necessarily needing to dump someone over. 

In fact, she had been hurt by people in her past and current, romantic or potential romantic partners, friends and family members. What they had said had cut her deeply in the heart and became this heavy rock or stone that she carries in her heart, at the very bottom. It will only grow bigger with time if she leave it unattended or pushed off to the side.

This led to her fantasies of being saved but instead of looking outwards to find someone to ‘save’ her, she has to ‘save’ herself and she have that ability to do so, to find true and extreme happiness within herself, by herself, without the need of a romantic partner.

This past hurt is held over her head and tied to her. She’s holding on tightly to it unconsciously that it feels as though it is being tied to her. However, no matter if she’s the one holding on or being tied to, how thick the ropes are, how many times the rope had looped around, ropes are still ropes. She can cut through it.

In fact, many things that she received had gone through this ‘past hurt’ filter or enzyme, which led to her receiving bad thoughts which turns into believes when it fills her mind. She needs to know and believe that she is not what ever the filtered or changed thoughts are and that she will only be affected by this as long as she allows the filter or enzyme to be and stay there. She needs someone to push her into realising this.

In fact, she had likely subconsciously sought you out because you not only have a healing energy but also an activational or motivational energy, especially through your words. Your words inspire people more than you think. 

You are kind and patient, despite what you might think of yourself. You might feel that ‘hey, I get annoyed easily at certain things, that’s not patient.’ but that is not the only way to show patience. The fact that you continue to be with that person and try to help them, despite being annoyed, is patience, alright?

You have great potential in your spirituality and can heal and inspire people through words, speech and communication, verbal, physical and otherwise. The manner you heal someone is more on inspiring them to take action, especially physically. You likely find yourself advising people more often instead of comforting them when people talk to you about problems that they are experiencing. 

You likely had not realise this yet. In fact, you should harness and improve on this energy and your communication because it will help you greatly in many aspects of your life as well as in the fact, such as your career.

(I see you speaking to a large audience, being passionate about what you are speaking about. So, communication is very important to you and will help you succeed. For example, in career wise, you are likely to be known for your presentations that you present. To be in the spotlight and front line more often than the back. If you are uncomfortable with speaking in front of audiences and being in the spotlight, I do believe that you should work on it! You can do it! All the best! Maybe I might see you online one day on a video though I have no idea who you might be 😁)

This is the energy that RB requires. She needs someone who will push her into action because of the fact that she thinks a lot, even too much at times, instead of taking action. That someone that she found is you. 

Advice for you to deal with this situation or connection.

Star Family - You’re part of a team of souls. Call in support.

If you feel pressured, need someone to talk to about the situation, make sure to talk to someone. You are connected to a soul family that will help you, you can ask them for help. Soul family does not necessarily means your immediate family members or relatives but rather people you are most connected to, people you are most comfortable with, who you can be yourself around without fear of judgement or anything. You can always ask for their help and support when things get rough, they will have your back.

They strongly and firmly wants you to know that they have your back, so feel free to call for them anytime. Know that they can and will always help you, and to be able to help you more effectively is when you call for them and ask them for help. Please do not feel shy, bad or hesitant in it. I’m sure you understand that it is easier to help someone when they directly tell you what’s wrong and ask for your help, right?

Make sure that you, yourself, have support on and through this. It can be just friends that you can talk to or rant out your feelings. They do not have to be directly involved in the situation but make sure that you have them by your side for your own health, safety, wellness and happiness etc.

Know that the universe will always be here to help you and provide you with the energy and guidance you need through this and in this particular situation, your soul family could very well be more prominent in helping you. You are loved here as you.

Portal - Doors are opening. You decide. Rewards. Wild card.

This is a learning experience for you as well. Not only are you learning to deal with this situation, you are also learning about yourself, your growth as well as realising the things around you. 

Through this experience and journey, you might find yourself in contact with someone new or someone you never expected to become close to. There will be things that you learn to realise and appreciate that had always been there.

There will be changes and you are asked to be open to those changes.

Try to stay open-minded to it and let it flow. Don’t try to control this because it is something that you are unlikely to have control over and can very well tire you out and burnt your energy out trying. 

This experience is likely something that will make you realise many things and grow a lot from. It will likely be stuck with you for a few years even after the situation had end its chapter and even then, you could realise and learn from it. 

New perspectives. New views. New skills. Growth. New ideas.

Be open to receiving it. You are guided and protected through this journey. Trust it, step back and let go of the need to control for a while because you might very well be pleasantly surprised by it.

It might help to get in touch with your feminine energy or someone with a predominantly more feminine energy. They will likely serve as great guides and provide great advice as well as someone you can lean on and learn from in this situation. 

Again, let go of control. Let go of the need to control. This is coming on strongly for you.

Also, don’t be too afraid or worried. You are protected and guided here. The unknown can be scary but once you learn and understand more of it, it won’t be as damning as you initially think and feel.

Message for you.

Deep Cellular Healing - Arcturus energy. Physical and emotional healing.

This not only applies to RB but also to you as well. Make sure that you take care of yourself as well. This is also a time for you to learn to balance between helping others as well as ensuring your own physical, mental and emotional health.

I won’t sugar coat my words but it is likely that this experience you have with RB might not be the most pleasant one, something seemingly negative will likely happen and have a big impact on your life which leads to deep healing and in turn, large growth. Be prepared and open to it.

This healing and growth that you will experience is a big one and is an even more amazing one. Arcturus is the biggest star in the constellation of Boötes, the fourth-brightest in the night sky, and the brightest in the northern celestial hemisphere. This is a good representation of you - not only will you shine bright, have great energy but also that you are connected, with divine spirit guides, universe and your soul family. Hear them. Open your ears and listen. Verbal words can very well be a way for them to connect and speak to you. Take note of what words catches your attention or any songs or words that pop up in your mind, they might be important and mean something to you that will help guide you and help your growth.

Call in help and support if you need it.

In fact, you are also learning to be able to protect yourself without the metaphorical high brick walls but rather a soft, translucent wings or soft shell, easy to peel back. This means to be in touch with your feminine side as well as your emotions and vulnerability. It is tough but you can do it.

Though it might seem tough but it will help you not only to love and accept yourself more and grow but also helps in many other aspects of your life such as relationships (romantic and platonic) and career. This is even a key to your success.

Mentioned above, communication is very important to you, your growth and success. This communication is backed and supported by your passions and emotions. Vulnerability in itself is a strength, it can bring people together. To be in tune with and comfortable with your own vulnerability will further attract people to you as well as those of higher frequencies (people who are generally more spiritual) as well as those who are successful and/or very capable to you.

What you are learning to become is a person with powerful, feminine energy. Someone confident and not afraid of their own vulnerabilities but rather thrive within them, being able to mold vulnerabilities into a strength. This does not mean not growing from vulnerabilities but rather being comfortable in them and accepting of them because, as mentioned, vulnerabilities can bring people together. You are likely someone who will become a person that bring people together and heal and inspire them through your words, such as speaking your experiences etc. I would not be surprised if you become someone in the celebrity world, film industry, talk shows, motivational speakers, stand-up comedy or on platforms like youtube etc.

What are you meant to learn through this experience or connection with RB?

2 - The Temple of My Body

You are meant to learn how to take better care of yourself. In times of difficulties, you are likely, like many others, tend to forgo taking care of ourselves fully or partially. This can include not sleeping enough, not eating enough, skipping meals, not drinking enough water, drinking too much caffeine etc. 

This is something that you must learn. No matter the circumstances, good or bad, you have to take care of yourself and what’s better and easier to start of with physically, something you can see and control easier than others such as mentally, spiritually and emotionally. 

Know that you are always worthy. Never dare to believe otherwise just like any and everyone else. You are never below or less worthy than someone else when it comes to being taken care of and that is your responsibility - to know, understand and believe that you are always worthy, as worthy as any and everyone else, the person next to you or the person you walked past, saw on television, as well as to take care of yourself.

Know that, whenever you fall into a slump, you have the power and energy to change the situation, change your perspective. You are intelligent and can seemingly wield ‘magic’ and create realities that seem too good to be true, too impossible to achieve. You have the power, the courage to be fearless and ability to create. 

In a manner, when you are a fish out of water, you have the power and the seemingly mysterious ability to become a crow, to fly, soar and live. 

You have the ability to make yourself happy, to create your own happiness. Know that. Believe that. Even when anyone else says otherwise. Don’t let anyone dim your light, nor dim your light to appease others. 

You have control over your body, your soul and your spirit. Others can only affect you if you let them. Sometimes, you can simply step away and move on. You are not alone, you always have your divine spirit guides, universe and soul family with you along the way, no matter where you are, where you go. You will find people that will help and support your journey and growth. 

It’s simply up to you to decide.

28 - Perchance to Dream

You are learning to balance things here, from actions to rest. When is enough is enough? 

You are loyal to certain things, to certain people, to certain things that you do. However, when things get rough, when is a good time to step back and relax to calm yourself before heading back in? When is a good time to return to the issue? If all else fails, when do you give up and just let things flow?

There will be many times where actions as well as rest are required. You are learning to balance it and not fall into a rhythm of always in action or always resting. 

Take time out when needed. Do what you need to do when needed. 

Know that those are for you to decide, not anyone else.

Know that you are always supported, protected and guided even as you rest by your divine spirit guides, universe and soul family. 

Take your time and know that you are always in control of who you are and what you do.

Warning

Frankly speaking, she could very well have depression and anxiety. She might or might not had self-harmed or attempted suicide but has definitely thought about it and might be thinking about it sometimes. 

[Note: I am not qualified to diagnosed anyone. To truly know, please find a psychologist or therapist, someone qualified to diagnosed.]

Here on out is from me, not what I had gathered from the reading.

Know that you are not obliged to help or be with someone if you are uncomfortable. Please take care of yourself and you should always place yourself first before anyone else. You are not responsible for anyone but yourself, understand? 

If you need or want someone to talk to, you can always approach me or private message me. My messages are always open! 😊

All the best!!!

You can do this, alright!!!

We hope this had helped you, 🌻 CJ 💋!

For now, the little birdie shall return home 🏡 ~ Ring our doorbell whenever!

Rest well 💤 ~

[coolxnxblue]

de rules:

1. Themes might very with this blog. It’ll typically be SFW, but there will likely be dark themes, violence and swearing.

Things will be tagged! I’ll try my best, anyways. If you want something in particular tagged, please let me know through ask / anon / im. The format I use for tagging is, for example, tw: swearing.

I don’t have any triggers but I do ask you tag all of your NSFW content.

That said, I won’t do anything NSFW - gore is okay, though.

I’m of age.

2. I’m private, meaning I only really roleplay with people I follow. This is so things don’t get too overwhelming and for me and to cement who I want to interact with. I generally follow most people if our writing clicks, though.

If I don’t follow you and you’d like me to check out your blog, lurk in my notifs. I’ll definitely see you and make note to check you out. Same with promos, or you can just rb them to a sideblog / send an ask with its url. I can’t gurantee I’ll follow, but I’ll certainly check it out!

If it’s a crossover, I have to know the fandom and be at least a little bit confident with it. This is so I’m able to work with you, our thread and have muse for it. You’re free to ask if I know of a fandom or not! I’ll have a list at some point.

I follow the tag #coolxnxblue. If there’s anything you want me to see, like dash commentary, just tag that and x-kit will alert me of your post! I may respond to ic stuff ic stuff if I’m feeling it. 

In that sense, I’m chill with dash shenanigans with most folk, not just mutuals!

Absolutely no godmodding. It ain’t fun, fam. If you’re not sure what this term means, do look it up. This includes powerplaying, metagaming, and other things of that nature. This applies especially in fights if they happen (I’m chance-based and hope that you are too).

I can be picky with OCs. But rest assured, if you’ve followed me/interacted with my promo, I’ll always give your pages a read.

Please don’t be offended if I don’t want to interact with you (and please don’t try to guilt me into doing so!).

As for following back, I usually take a week tops to do so - but if you’ve hit up my promo, I go through that eventually.

I DON’T CARE ABOUT AESTHETICS. I just think they’re pretty. If you don’t use formatting or anything like that, or heck - even wanna’ just do iconless rp - I have no problem with it whatsoever! It’s you, your writing and your muse I care about!

3. Please don’t rush me for starters or responses.

PLEASE understand that I have blogs galore and my muse tends to fluctuate; this can mean I’m everywhere at once and can end up neglecting a blog or two. It’s nothing personal; you know how muses are! Additionally, life happens to be a thing.

Please note the mun deals with anxiety and depression, and has part time jobs which are honestly tiring - this might affect how frequently she roleplays.

Chances are, I’ve probably has seen that bit of interactivity and just haven’t gotten around to responding yet.

My roleplaying style being para/multi-para, I may take a while to respond. I hoard drafts like a dragon - it’s really just the motivation to write and ship those out.

I hoard asks, but sometimes can’t find muse or interest for all of them. If it’s been a month or two, generally assume I’m not interested / can’t find muse for it. You’re free to send another though!

I answer asks from anyone - personals, rp blogs and anons. I’ll answer non-mutual asks occaisonally but I won’t be making threads out of them

4. Shippings? Heck yeah, I ship lots with my blue son! Just make sure they’re of similar age pls.

If I don’t happen to be interested, don’t force anything on my character.

I do not ship incestuous ships. Do NOT follow/interact if you do.

The ship has to have chemistry; I’m generally shipping trash, but if they don’t click, they don’t click, sorry.

This is a multi-ship blog, meaning there will be more than one ship without them conflicting with eachother.

If you want to ship and I already have a ship of your choosing going with a duplicate, please don’t hesitate to hmu! My ships aren’t exclusive and each character/relationship portrayal is unique to me!

Relationships are eternal until you deem otherwise. If you’re not interested in a ship anymore, just let me know!

Sonic X Tails won’t be happening on this blog, sorry.

5. Whilst I am of age, I’m not aiming for sexual content on this blog (and will not be dealing with fetishes). That stuff makes me uncomfortable, and I typically don’t recommend pulling it with my character if you’re interacting with me. Nonetheless, should it arise, I will tag it appropriately as nsfw //.

6. About reblogs…

I am not a meme source, and reblogs clog up my activity. Please reblog any ask / starter memes you find on this blog from their SOURCE. The exception to this rule is if there is no source; go ahead.

I don’t feel comfortable with Personals reblogging my IC or OOC posts, so please don’t do that. If I put something in the fandom tags for whatever reason (bar promos), you’re free to, though.

This goes for my art too unless it has the tag ok to rb, but otherwise only the person I drew it for can reblog it. If you wanna’ reblog something, I DO put it on my art blog eventually!

A few times is fine, as it happens, but repeatedly breaking these rules will result in me soft blocking you.

I try to participate in reblog karma as much as I can, but always reblog from the source/a meme source.

If a post or ask is for you, you’re free to reblog it to save it though - but only if you’re an rp blog!

7. I’m a para / multi-para blog, novella if I’m adventurous and have time. Whilst I may roleplay crack threads with shorter responses, this does not apply to all threads I write. This means:

I write my replies as detailed as I can muster, and length can range from 1 paragraph to 6.

Short responses (such as one-liners) in more serious threads where I’ve written a decent deal can instantly kill my muse for that thread.

Whilst I’d prefer for partners to at least somewhat match my length, it’s entirely up to you - just try your best and make sure you give me enough to work with. ♡

If my muse happen to go nuts out of nowhere - like, overboard - don’t stress too much about matching him.

8. Threads! You can yeet asks, memes, and even starters at me if I’ve liked a call! I’ll obviously have my own you can like.

You’re free to like starter calls even if we’re not mutuals; I can check out your blog that way. I still only write starters for mutuals though.

I know pretty much most if not all Sonic media, bar Fleetway which I haven’t gotten around to reading yet. Since that’s unfamiliar territory, I’m unlikely to tread in it yet.

Starter memes are the BEST way to interact me because they just yeet a prompt at my face and really help me write starters. If you see me reblog one, send one!

If you want a certain verse, lemme’ know! Otherwise, I’ll either resort to game verse or whatever continuity your muse applies to (i.e, Sally (archie), Starline (idw), and so forth).

If you want to turn an ask into a thread, go ahead!

In that sense, I don’t recommend writing starters for me unless we’ve discussed something. I don’t like to leave anyone hanging.

Please don’t assume things about my muse. If you’re uncertain about things, ASK.

IMs are open to mutuals, if you want to do any in-depth plotting. I also have Discord if that’s more convenient for you!

9. Guidelines on mains and relationships:

If we’re mutuals and we interact a lot, you’re welcome to ask me if I’d like to be your main!

Please don’t be offended if I deny, though; I typically want to pick those I trust to be my mains as well as people I can comfortably write with.

Not limited to them! I roleplay with duplicates galore so don’t be afraid to hit me up if you want to interact!

Pre-established relationships are a-okay in my book; if you have an idea for a relationship between our muses we can work towards, hit me up! I reblog those pre-established relationship memes every so often too. Romantic relationships link back to the shipping guidelines.

Also, friendship/family/rivalry relationships are EXTREMELY valid to me - so don’t feel scared about asking for them!

10. If you have any issues, please let me know and hopefully we can resolve it!

Mun is actually super nice, so don’t be afraid to hit her up!

I am absolutely terrible with IMs and Discord. I either respond quickly or days later, depends on my mood. Social anxiety tends to interfere with this (and more recently exhaustion from work) - but honestly, if you’ve sent something, I’ve likely read it and just haven’t gotten around to it yet! It’s nothing personal; trust me!

Please leave me out of drama; I’m here to have a good time, as is everyone else, and it pains me to see people arguing.

This is a little different with callouts - if I see anything on dash pertaining to any problematic users, I will take it into consideration and rb it if I believe them to be harmful.

11. To retierate, I tend to follow those that:

Write para and whom I feel my muse would click with.

Seem chill? Tone can really intimidate me honestly.

Have rules and about pages! Knowing the boudaries of my rp partners is super important as well as their lovely muses! Sometimes rules are enough, though, if you’re going to write the about eventually.

Tag their nsfw.

Don’t have massive icons - ie, have rp icons that take up an entire text post like 500x500 or something. I don’t want to clog the dash and it’s tiring to resize them.

...also, if I follow your hub blog (provided it doesn’t double as a personal), it generally means I’m cool with any blogs that are attached to it.

12. On threads…

If you’re not interested in a thread anymore, and would like to drop it, please let me know! I’d feel terrible if we’re both not having fun with it or if partners feel overwhelmed with the amount of threads we have.

Honestly, unless I let you know, our threads have no expiry date - so no need to worry about me dropping them without telling you. I can just be quite slow sometimes.

13. Mun does not equal muse! Anything my muse might say does not reflect on how I think unless I explicitly say so.

14. Know that if I follow you, I WANT to interact with you.

I literally couldn’t care less about follower counts. I care about YOU guys and our interactions.

15. Rules may be subject to change.

Please like this post if you’ve read the rules! You don’t have to, but it’s of personal reassurance to me if you have.

[lizacstuff]

Anons 7x06

Lots of anons in my inbox, a few under the cut. The tone of most asks is not complimentary towards the season or episode, you have been warned. 

Anonymous said:Seems like there must not be a lot of Regina fans out there, despite the ER making a lot of noise. Demos held steady. 

I wouldn’t count those numbers before they’re hatched.  Sound like the show was preempted in certain markets (Boston, a huge DMA, for one) so the numbers should be adjusted for that when the nationals come out on Monday. Right now OUAT is getting credit for whatever replacement programming the affiliate put in it’s place. 

Anonymous said:I'm seeing that for some areas the episode got pushed back till early Saturday morning. Do they take into account when figuring out the ratings? I'm already seeing ERs complaining about it and saying if the ratings are bad that's the only reason why. 😒

See above. The overnights (today's ratings) include viewership for whatever aired in OUAT’s place.  Monday they should adjust to reflect more accurately how many people watched the actual episode. They are right, though, in it negatively impacting the live numbers. However, it shouldn't really impact the L+3 or L+7 numbers. 

Anonymous said:Is it bad that I laughed outloud when I saw that Regina gave everything Ivy she needed to cast her curse? Just like the time Regina pushed Lily too far and she turned into a dragon and endanger the town? Or the time she told Zelena to go after Hades and change him and refused to listen to anyone's concerns and everyone almost ended up trapped in Hell? I'm surprised the writer's still don't see the pattern like fans do.

Even without malicious intentions, she’s a disaster who ruins everyone’s lives. It’s bizarre that the writers continually follow the pattern, but never have Regina question her own judgement when she’s doing it. Whatever else happens, Regina makes emotional, unilateral decisions that usually end up biting other people in the ass. 

Anonymous said:Why would Regina stop henry for having a tlk with jacinda to break the curse? they don't have chemistry but they have been written as tl, at least make them kiss to destroy this stupid season one for all

Because Ivy did something, that Regina remembers, that will put the people that Regina “loves” in jeopardy if the curse is broken.  We don’t know who is in jeopardy or how. 

Anonymous said:So the reboot it's all Regina's fault? Why am I not surprised? Having Henry all for her and without snowing and captain swan, obviously a villain like her was behind this

Regina isn’t being purposefully villainous, but her stupid choices have landed them in this position.

Anonymous said:So regina thought she never adopted a child and its now forced to live with him not knowing her and can't break the curse?? Also her soulmate still dead and she is away from sb and her "family"&"friends"? Hahahahahaha karma is a beautiful thing!!! So she is alone and miserable and childless? Jefferson, snowing of the early seasons and the whole ef1 is laughing and partying

I suppose she is getting a little bit of karmic retribution, but I wouldn’t consider her knowing Henry is her adult son, and still being close to him even though he doesn't know, as quite the same thing as orphaning Emma and Snowing missing out on raising her or knowing her for 28 years.  

Anonymous said:Its weird since I thought Shoe Believer had an okay start in the beginning. It wasn't anywhere near CS or Snowing but they were still okay. With every episode they just feel more and more dull and forced.

I always thought it was forced, particularly in the pilot, but I thought it might grow as the season progressed. I’m not feeling it.  They are telling us it’s true love, not showing us.  Unlike CS, Snowing or RB where we saw those relationships develop over time, this feels completely unearned, and a TLK would be like  Zades or Red Warrior where it feels like complete out-of-nowhere nonsense.  CS had to go through multiple seasons of trials and tribulations, both proving they would go to the end of the world or time for one another, before the show would even whisper True Love at them.  The writers have lost their mojo when it comes to writing a love story.

Anonymous said:After this weeks episode I'm more thankful than ever that Regina is far away from Captain Swan and everyone in storybrooke. They don't need to suffer the consequences of someone who has failed as a queen and a mayor.

Honestly, it being canon that Regina and Rumple are out of Storybrooke, is the silver lining to S7.  

Anonymous said:I’m kind of confused , since 7x02 I’ve been trying to keep up with show . But I haven’t been paying that much attention ( I usually just put it on the tv while I’m on my computer or something, so it’s really just background noise ) but I do have a question, who is that hag in lady tremaine’s basement thing ? And also ..... can you list the people who are aware that there was a curse / who’s now awake . Cuz I can’t keep up

That’s the witch.  Right now I think the only characters awake are Ivy, Regina, and sometimes Alice when she isn’t on medication.  I could be wrong though, because my ability to stay focused during this show has not been great. 

Anonymous said:I stopped watching s7 after 7x02 but as someone who still watches it/keeps tabs on it do you know if the timeline is explained like now that Lucy is born and is 10 years old does that mean captain swan's child is around that age or is Emma still pregnant cause time moves differently?

They haven’t really answered that question yet as far as I know. My gut is that very little time has passed in Storybrooke and as we speak Captain Swan is preparing for their baby. But that’s my gut, not fact. 

Anonymous said:I'm so mad - this was the last drop for me with this show. I have been watching S7 for Colin (I'm a Nielsen family and my viewing does count for the ratings) but what they had Henry say last night was the last straw. Swan Believer and their amazing dynamic in season 1 was what kept me watching the show (until CS came along ) and to have to see the writers IGNORE what was once the backbone of the original show (Emma/Henry) to prop an abusive mother/son relationship is absolute bullshit.

cont - previous ask about Swan Believer. I feel sorry for Colin and for the cast and crew, but from now on I will not be watching the show anymore. Nothing about it excites me/makes me happy. It feels like a chore. And these writers do NOT deserve to get renewed nor to get anymore chances to ruin their own canon of what was once a beautiful show.

Describing it as a chore is pretty spot on. I understand you wanting to watch for Colin (especially as a Nielsen household) but you gotta do what’s right for you.  That line seemed completely unnecessary. There were a lot of ways they could have had a nice mother/son moment without going there. 

Anonymous said:I just saw a gifset of Regina waking up from the curse. So that's really the reaction she chose to go with? She really hasn't seemed to grasp the subtleties of acting, has she?

No, she has not. However, I have to say that Lana’s acting as Roni in Hyperion Heights this episode was the least of the episode’s problems. 

Anonymous said:Did you see any of Lana's answers to her fans on Twitter? Besides laughing at the idea of her wanting to do a remake of Silence of the Lambs and play Clarice, when she was asked what she's learned from Bex she said that red heads have more fun than blondes. I imagine in this situation you answer these questions quickly and don't contemplate on your answers, but wow did that seem like a dig. And if you look through the comments all of her rabid fans seemed to think so too and were loving it.

I thought a more accurate tweet would have been  “Red heads kiss my ass better than blondes."  ‘Cause Bex has had her lips permanently affixed to her ass for years now, just the way Lana likes it. 

Anonymous said:I'm indifferent about Wish Hook, and I wouldn't mind if his daughter was Alice and they got a storyline together, but they got nowhere in this episode? And going by the promo, the mess of the wish realm strikes again as Wish Hook was realm-traveling apparently. How did a non-wish Rapunzel from a separate realm come across someone who didn't exist until present-day 6x10? This is unexplainable.

Do we know that Rapunzel is from a separate realm and not from the Wish Realm?  It would be unbelievable to think that WishHook left the WISHAU before it was created with EQ’s “wish” in 6x10.  I think looking for any sort of logic or even in-universe fairy tale logic to make sense of anything to do with the WishRealm, including WishHook, is an exercise in futility.

It simply doesn’t make sense, and each episodes they change the rules to accommodate anything they want to do.  Of course I think it’s nonsense, but I’d still rather this and have CS safely tucked away from this ridiculous season, than have them using the real Hook this season.  Because honestly I don’t care about the integrity of the storytelling in S7, I only care about CS. (though that doesn’t stop me from poking fun at it.)

Anonymous said:I honestly was not one bit surprised when Colin said he was still under contract this season, but at the same time I do believe he enjoys playing this character and I'm sure he feels loyal to the show, it has been his big break. But I have to believe with the storylines and the material he's given, if not already, then by the end of filming he'll probably be in the same mind frame as Bobby. 100% only there for a paycheck. I just hope his agent is actively seeking better opportunities for him.

We really don’t know what he’s thinking or feeling, but low ratings have got to affect things on set in some way, so it sucks if he’s in any kind of stressful environment.  Even if it’s just them getting pressured to send out scripted PR tweets for each episode. On the upside, other than 7x02, he’s been in these eps so rarely, that I’d guess he’s not working more than 1-2 days per episode, which probably means a lot of time that he can be home with his family and newborn.  It might be a blessing for them right now. As I said we can’t know, but I just wish the best for him and his future career.

Anonymous said:Was there something wrong with the Rogers' scenes? I thought they were pretty decent, especially his interactions with Alice.

To all my anons wanting to know about Rogers scenes, you’ll have to come off anon if you want to chat about it. 

[sending-the-message]

In The City Of Meatbot-Powered Killers (part 8) by molotok_c_518

Table of Contents

Part 7

(WARNING: Due to the graphic nature of this series, reader discretion is strongly advised. Contains cannibalism, strong language, violence, and a mention of suicide.)

A bit of dark web wizardry to fill in the gaps...

Video footage from a Reaper drone, designated RB-4, on station over [REDACTED]:

A Chinook twin-rotor cargo helicopter comes in from the south, towing a huge crate underneath, roughly the size of an industrail AC unit. After some fancy piloting, it manages to set down the crate with minimal swinging. The sides drop, revealing a pile of beef sides, enough meat to start a Texas-style barbecue for 1000 guests, give or take.

Immediately, a swarm of little stick figures, like ants at a picnic, converge on the beef. They nearly trample the small know of people at the site that have been eating each other for the past several days.

The frenzy goes on for about a half hour.

Suddenly, the focus of the video shifts upwards, to an incoming A-10. It comes in low and slow, and drops...something... from underneath.

RB-4 tracks the dropped item... a canister? a bomb?... all the way to the pile of beef and bot-ridden.

Just before it would hit, it explodes, throwing fire in every direction. The little bug-people right underneath are incinerated immediately; others take longer.

Like the downtown attack, some of the infested run like hell away from the flames; many, many more run towards them, throwing themselves on the pyre, in defiance of survival instinct.

RB-4: God... damn... that's gonna need some serious brain-bleach to scrub that shit away. Good hit, sir.

A-10 Pilot MAJ {Brown}, call sign "Anvil": Roger, RB-4.Feels fucked-up to be dropping on US civvies.

RB-4: They ain't exactly human anymore, sir. Some Ebola shit or something.

Anvil: So I heard. Do you actually believe the White House on that?

At that moment, a burning man breaks loose and begins running towards a long, two-story building in the background.

RB-4: It may not be Ebola, but... we Chair Force guys have seen some serious shit, sir. One of my buddies just checked out... ate his sidearm.

Anvil: Fuck... condolences.

RB-4: Thank you, s... whoa!

The burning man reaches the building. He slams his fists against a door, and the whole top of the building explodes.

Anvil: Shit! Shit! Shit! We were supposed to be careful not to hit that complex!

RB-4: The explosion was from inside, sir. Glass all blasted outwards.

Anvil: Gas leak? Triggered by the burning idiot?

RB-4: Unknown, sir. I will say it doesn't look like anything you could have anticipated.

Anvil: ...fuck.

RB-4: Hope you brought marshmallows, sir,

We ran.

The double doors opened on a wider tunnel, brightly lit, that ran for 1000 feet, terminating in another set of doors. It was deserted.

Halfway down the tunnel, my email reached the phones. The whole tunnel shook like Richter's best wet dream, and we were thrown to the tunnel floor.

"I... I think I overdid it," I muttered.

We got back to our feet and ran for it again.

{Jane} was a bit faster than me. As a result, she hit the doors a few steps ahead of me, and got ambushed by the four infested on the other side.

She yelled as she was dragged to the floor, but managed to get the machete into the head of the first one as she fought. It jumped back screaming.

I got there a few seconds later, and slammed the axe into the head of another one, throwing it back into a wall. Another swing removed the top of a third one's skull.

This gave {Jane} enough room to slam the last one into the first one, and the two went down in a tangle of limbs and a spray of meatbots from the head wound of the first infested.

The second one had recovered enough to come charging at me. I swung upwards, taking it in the gut with the poll of the axe and putting that spike right into its ribs. Intestines unraveled and spilled on the ground; the last infested jumped on them and began to devour them while the badly wounded one tried to shove him off.

"C'mon!" I said, grabbing {Jane}'s arm and dragging her to her feet, then propelling her to our right, and another tunnel.

The lights had flickered a few times as we fought. Now that we were free, they threatened to go out as we escaped.

Another infested came out of an alcove to our right. {Jane} took it high, lopping its head off with one clean stroke.

"A little further up, we take a left," she panted. "It will take us across campus."

"Are you hurt at all?"

"No. Looks like they couldn't get a grip or bite on me."

"Okay. If you are, let me know... I brought some more anti-bots with me."

She stopped. "Wait... you have more of those things?!? And you're willing to actually use them on us?"

"Well... yeah. I mean, that's how I recovered you in the first place, and kept myself from getting infested when you attacked me."

{Jane} grabbed me by the lapels and slammed me into the wall. "DO NOT PUT THOSE THINGS IN ME," she growled. "If I get ridden again, just burn me."

"Okay, okay," I whispered. "I get it."

I didn't, really. I also didn't mention that she might still have some dormant counter-bots in her system.

See, the actual programming called for a short "maintenance" period, where several classes of 'bot would go into "sleep mode," as it were, awaiting the chemical trigger to awaken (wounds, cancer, etc.). After a while, they would run out of fuel, deactivate entirely, and get flushed.

Sometimes, ignorance is the best policy.

We set off again, taking that left and charging into increasingly more dimly-lit sections of tunnel. We got hit a few more times, but it seemed like they had all gone above-ground and joined the cannibal bonfire.

Then a familiar smell hit me: raw meat, unwashed bodies, spoiled flesh, blood, cake frosting.

"Stop," I said.

{Jane} looked at me funny. "What?"

"There's an orgy of infested ahead."

I could hear it now, too: That squishy, slithering, chewing sound.

"Is there a way out of these tunnels and back to the surface from here?"

"Just around that corner ahead of us. Probably through the orgy."

"Backtrack?"

"We'll be out in the open, visible to any recon drones, for about a half mile."

"Fuck."

"We can take them," {Jane} said confidently. She swung the machete like a pro now.

"No. We try to get around them. A few, we can deal with... more than 20 or 30, and we could end up like them."

{Jane} looked me in the eye: a hard stare, more than a little bit homicidal. "Maybe I should push you in. Serve you right for making them like that."

"I thought we were past this."

"...wait..."

"...what?"

The sounds had stopped.

"Uh-oh."

"Run through them," {Jane} mumbled, swinging the machete.

"Wait..."

"NOW."

And she charged.

"Fuck." I hefted the axe and followed.

Around the corner was a knot of infested, slowly disentangling themselves from each other as they heard {Jane} running around the outskirts of them. She was swinging at limbs that reached out to her, lopping them off, as other hands reached out to grab the newly liberated snacks.

I followed at a bit of a distance (I deemed it unsafe to get that close to an angry woman with a big knife), kicking severed hands into the pile, swinging at any arms that got too close.

One hand reached out and grabbed her pants leg, and she went down hard. I chopped into its wrist, and the hand flew across the tunnel into the wall, tangling in a small nest of cables.

I ran past, grabbing her by the collar and hauling her up. She limped on, and I supported her weight as we passed the feeding frenzy.

"To our right. Up those stairs. I think it's the chem building."

"I thought we were going to the dorms."

"No. Mall."

We slammed through a door. The stairwell beyond was empty and dark, and utterly silent once the echoes of our abrupt entrance faded.

I lugged her up the stairs. She weighed a bit more than she had when I rescued her, but I felt it was wise not to mention that.

"Why are we going back to the mall?"

"Food. Shelter. Real clothes." She gestured at the mish-mash of men's clothes I had scrounged up for her. "Hair dye, so I can go blonde again and hide the grey."

"What grey?"

"Plus, we have a plausible story to tell the Army if they roll through asking survivors how they kept from getting infested: 'We locked ourselves in the mall and stayed put.'"

"You know that most of them will have seen Dawn of the Dead, so they'll know it's reasonable..."

"Right."

"I just came from the mall, though. Locked myself in there after Bobby and his wife got taken in."

"You mean Ricky."

"No, Kentucky Bobby."

"It was Ricky. Bobby was the one that was always in the bathroom."

"Really?"

"Are we going to the mall or not."

"Car."

"There's a lot full of them."

"No keys."

"I can hotwire one. My ex taught me. It's apparently a big thing in Russia to know how to steal a car."

"I've never heard that."

"You have now."

I sighed. "Let's go, then. I duct-taped a latch on the south side. We can get in there. Also, we should snag an electric or hybrid. Quieter. Won't draw as many."

"Let's roll."

She seemed a little better on her feet as we climbed the stairs to the first floor and went out into the bright, late-summer sunshine. I didn't comment on it, figuring she'd put it down to just twisting her ankle.

Outside, the way was clear, right up to the cars in the parking lot. A good half-mile walk.

Right out in plain view of any drones or satellite coverage.

"They'll see us if we go out there," I said.

"They'll be distracted by that," she said, pointing back at a pair of thick columns of black smoke.

"Good point."

RB-4: This is RB-4 to RQZ Six.

RQZ: This is Six, go ahead.

RB-4: Sir, it appears that our target has been heavily compromised. Seems that there was some kind of gas leak at objective 2, and it... well, it exploded. Sir.

RQZ: Can you confirm casualties from up there?

RB-4: Negative, sir.

RQZ: I would hate to have lost our best chance at curing this damned thing.

RB-4: Is it that bad, sir?

RQZ: Officially, it's contained.

RB-4: ...officially, sir?

RQZ: Unofficially, we may have a few isolated cases in an outlying suburb.

911 (dispatcher, just outside [REDACTED]): 911, what's your emergency?

Man: Help, my wife's gone fuckin' bonkers!

911: Where are you?

Man: I'm in my house, at [ADDRESS]. My wife brought home a stray dog, nice animal, collar and everything... it bit her, and she started... well, eating everything (BANG BANG BANG in the background) in the house.

Woman: LET ME IN, JERRY. I JUST WANT TO TALK!

Man: You already stabbed me with a fork, Ethyl, I'm not falling for it.

911: Officers en route, sir, stay on the line.

BANG BANG BANG

Woman: JUST OPEN THE DOOR, JERRY, WE CAN WORK THIS OUT.

Man: You've got rabies or something... I'm just getting you an ambulance.

Woman: I DON'T NEED A FUCKING AMBULANCE! YOU WILL IF YOU DON'T OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!!!

911: Where is the dog now?

Man: She ate it.

911: I... see. Hold for a moment, please.

Man: Wait...

bang bang bang

Woman: Honey, I'm sorry. Just come out and we can have a nice dinner.

CRASH!

Man: Fuck, Ethyl, how did you... AHHHHH!!! THAT FUCKING HURT!!!

The car we managed to snag was a Honda hybrid. Silent as the grave. {Jane} drove.

We went out the north entrance of the campus. Along the way, we saw sporadic knots of infested laying very still, with only a cursory glance at us as we drove by.

"Probably almost starved to death," {Jane} muttered.

"Yeah," I said.

"So you're just... letting the Army kill them all?"

This again.

"Yes. Better that than put the nanobots in the hands of anyone else."

"And you're okay with that?"

"No. I'm not. It hurts that I can't cure them. It would take more than I believe we have to cure them all. Plus, they did... things. We've seen them burn themselves to death rather than run from the fire. It's a good probability that most of these people would prefer to die."

{Jane} navigated to the entrance of [REDACTED] Mall and drove to the back side, where I had taped the door open.

She shut off the car, and stared out the window for a moment.

"I still need to figure you out. I'm not sure I totally trust you."

"Okay..."

"I know these... things... can affect the brain. They made me okay with killing and eating people. How do I know that you didn't program them to make me follow and obey you?"

"I wouldn't... couldn't... do that. How about, I take one end of the mall, you take the other..."

"Okay."

"If we stick together, we can get out of this. It's entirely up to you."

"Okay."

"Go think on it. Get real clothes. Get whatever food you want. I'll be in the electronics store."

An hour later, and I'm hiding in a mall bathroom with a fire axe. Again.

One last step, and we can be free of [REDACTED], out of the quarantine zone, and on our way.

[lodessa]

It’s been a while since I did this

Tagged by@carlynroth

List all the things you’re currently working on in as much or as little detail as you like then tag some friends to see what they’re working on: writing, art, gif sets, whatever.

Okay so I set some rules for myself in making this list in an attempt to maybe clear it out a bit to what I’m more likely to write any time soon: I did not allow myself to look at any of my previous lists OR my WIP documents/folders until after I’d made the list (only to add details/links after I’d finalized it).

Star Trek: Voyager - Janeway/Chakotay

Stumbling: Post Endgame Janeway and Chakotay struggle to get back what they once had (trust) even though they both want it.  Basically I really wanted to explore how messy emotions are and a realistic struggle to recover from what happened. I think it’s going to be like 8 chapters, but for all I know it will end up being 14 like Parameters and Voyager High; because, that’s apparently my natural length for drawn out chaptered fics.  Three chapters are currently posted. Chapter four is partly written.  Excerpt: 

“Here’s the thing: She still wants him.  It’s ironic, after all the years he was diligently waiting and she was able to stuff it down and put it aside some ninety something percent of the time Now, now she is so angry with him, so distrustful, but it’s like that pain has wrecked her self control. She can’t come back from the blunt honestly of her despair. When she’d been so secure in him it has been easy to set aside her desire.

Now. Now she feels raw, not just with the sting of his betrayal but also with her own longing.

Now he meets her for long afternoon walks between her meetings and his office hours and she can’t take comfort in his arm linked with her but she can’t ignore it either. His warmth beside her is a provocation, unsettling her.

He brings her a series of peace roses and part of her wants to feel comforted by the gesture but there’s something inside her that balks at any memory of how it used to be.” 

Just Once: Five times Janeway and Chakotay were only going to kiss once (and the time they finally gave that pretense up).  This is really a more drawn out version of “Why Janeway and Chakotay Can't Share the Couch: 5 Times They Slipped Up”   but it’s not like there can ever be enough of that type of fic. Currently I have posted 1 of 6 total chapters, but I do have all of it outlined.

The Greek Mythology AU Epic.  I only have a couple actual paragraphs of this written, but I have a very clear idea of the plot and style.  Basically it’s a homeric style epic, wherein Janeway is the hero and involves a plotline with her going down to the underworld to get Chakotay back.  Very different from my usual style, obviously.  Excerpt:

“You have heard, of course, about the great ship Voyager, and it’s captain: the wise but willful woman king known as Janeway, favored by Athena. The tale of how her ship was blown off course by a powerful storm and ended up in distant waters far from home, how she subdued the outlaw ship she’d been chasing on the other side of the world, won over it’s captain: the noble Chakotay, how together they kept raiders from causing Atlas to drop the world, and thereafter Chakotay and his followers served under her and he became her most trusted subject and against all odds they returned to Greece in seven years and seven days is widely known. 

Less famous, however, is the tale of Janeway’s descent into the Underworld and how she came to prevail upon Hades to undo what his wrathful brother, Poseidon, had done in spite and wounded pride.   Many heroes have gone down to plead with the king of the dead for lost loves, but few are those to emerge again to the sunlight.”

That One Where Chakotay Gets Pegged.  So I have a number of fic ideas involving this (Including a follow up to Happy Accident) but the longest standing one and one I really mean to write in the near future is one where Janeway happens to mention one of the ways she has gotten the upper hand in diplomacy situations with men who want to fuck her  involving a strap on and well... Chakotay can’t get the idea out of his head. 

Daxverse:  After three years of intending to do this AU with Jadzia on Voyager and not actually writing it and @talsi74656 having been in the same situation for a couple, we are seriously exploring joining forces and merging our two different versions into one in hopes of getting it written.  Because, the idea is too good to sit forever unpublished.

Year of Hell PWP: Chakotay offers Kathryn a different kind of birthday present.  Excerpt:

Kathryn felt herself blush deeply at his probably innocently intended question.  She was wound so tightly right now she might explode on impact at the slightest jostling.

Chakotay flushed as well as he realized from her expression what she wasn’t saying.

“Oh…” he pressed his lips together, “I see. No wonder you are having trouble sleeping.”

“Chakotay!” she replied with a scandalized gasp.

“Let me help?” his voice and his expression both were beseeching, “You know you’ll sleep better and that will make you way more productive.  You wouldn’t accept my birthday gift… at least let me do something for you.”

Cracktastic Anthropomorphic Voyager/Janeway/Chakotay Situation: Sentient Voyager takes human form and interacts with its Captain(s) in a variety of ways. Set over the course of the series and post series when Chakotay takes command.  Most likely ends with a threesome.

Post Endgame Angst Where Janeway is Hallucinating: Janeway cracks once the immediacy of all those years of pressure lets up and loses touch with reality.  Feeling abandoned and lost, she hallucinates a Chakotay who is cruel and kind in turns, and by the time the real Chakotay shows up she doesn’t believe he’s actually there.

Timeless Timeline Chakotay/Endgame Timeline Admiral Janeway Fixit AU: Somehow the Admiral goes sideways instead of back and ends up in the averted Timeless timeline. Both of them are so damaged by loss and time in these timelines and I’d love to see them interact. Ultimately, they join forces and go back to save their past/alternative selves from becoming the selves they are then and there.  This started out as a coauthored fic that got abandoned midway through, but I still really love the idea.  Excerpt:

"Well that depends, what year is it and how long have I been dead for." She said it teasingly but the question still felt heavy, "How do you think I died?"

"Are you sure you want me to tell you? I'm not even sure I can." He shook his head, running his hand over his face, suddenly overwhelmed with the memory of seeing Kathryn dead on Voyager's bridge.

"It's important, I think." she sighed, running her fingers through his hair, "Unless you'd rather I tell you."

He wasn't sure what was worse, watching the pain that crossed Kathryn's face when she mentioned his death, or thinking about how hard it would be to relive her death. He couldn't bring himself to cause her more pain than he had to, even if that meant bearing the brunt of it himself.

"It was the slipstream drive..." he said quietly, trying not to go back to that day, "Harry and I went ahead in the Delta Flyer, but we'd miscalculated..."

He could barely get the words out, as the lump formed at the back of his throat. She reached for him, her hand cupping his face.

"All these years, and you still..." He could see her calculating how long it must have been.

"Always." He kissed her softly.

Her hands lingered on his face, thumb stroking his cheek.

"It's an alternate timeline," she said at last, "we never attempted that slipstream flight... Seven," he couldn't help but notice something off in Kathryn's voice as she said the former drone's name, "Seven got a message warning us."

RPF

KM/RB Fic No One Wants That Involves RealTalk(TM) Racism.  Because I feel like this needs to be addressed in terms of KM’s exoticism when it comes to him and also that she only publicly dates white dudes. She looks like a jerk in this one.

Another One No One Asked For: Why Both KM and Braga Got Pissed At RB Really. As JR is added to the cast, RB is upset that KM chose Hagan and decides to get back at her by exploiting somewhere he knows she’s already feeling vulnerable.  He looks like a jerk in this one.

KM Has Zero Sympathy for the Problems RB Created For Himself. Because KM sass is life and seriously CHOICES dude.

KM/RB As a Taurus/Scorpio Dynamic Case Study. Because they are.

Veronica Mars

Balacing Act: Two parts are written. Part 3 of the series is still in progress.  Continued  post movie threesome action with Logan, Weevil, and Veronica. Excerpt:

“I have acquired bagels… and coffee.”

It takes a moment for Eli to remember where he is or how he got there, gradually regaining enough consciousness to register Veronica’s way too chipper voice and remember that it must be Logan’s fucking arm he can feel slung across his hip. Reluctantly, he opens his eyes and there she is, looming over them with a take out tray of coffee cups in one hand and a paper bag in the other, looking cheerful and relaxed, like this is something that happens every day instead of being unprecedented, like she is used to him fucking Echolls up the ass until they both come.

“Enjoying the view from above from once, V?” he teases, refusing to act like this is weird if she isn’t going to.

“Wait… you went all the way to-“ Logan sits up, looking perfectly mussed as he notes the logo on the coffee cups.

This is weird. This is definitely weird, even for them.

That Season 3 AU I Started Around the Time The Movie Came Out: So season 3 was a mess as a whole, but it also always bugged me that Veronica’s “I was wrong not to trust” moment is about Logan (who didn’t deserve her trust and yeah actually his explanation in the end was shitty) and not about her dad (who deserved better than her judgement and criticism) and Weevil (seriously did she really think he’d rip Lilly’s necklace off her).  It’s a lot bigger than that, but basically this AU starts from there and has Weevil be the one to find her in the parking garage instead of Logan and goes from there. I need to finish it because it’s important, even if it’s a dead fandom. Excerpt:

“Would now be an appropriate time for me to list the reasons why you shouldn’t even be wasting your time with that spoiled gringo asshole?”

Weevil knew that was never going to be a productive addition to any conversation with her.  She had some mad feelings about Logan Echolls, every bit as much as Lilly had.  He didn’t think about Lilly so much these days, but sitting in Veronica’s car talking about whether Logan was a bad boyfriend was bringing the memories back.

She must have noticed the parallel too; because she said, “Is that what you told Lilly?”

They had never talked about Lilly.  Whenever possible she stuck to cases, favors, and harmless flirtatious banter that he knew didn’t mean anything at all. They avoided talking about Logan, but this - this was taboo.  And Weevil doesn’t know what to feel about that.

And what the hell is Veronica thinking, anyway?  Maybe it was the lingering effects of the drugs.  What the docs call trauma?  He hasn’t got a freaking clue .  All he knows is that Veronica Mars had bought up the girl whose ghost seemed to have more life than most of the people walking around Neptune. And he doesn’t like to say no to Veronica Mars.

“Sometimes I think it was what she wanted me to do.” He answered, deciding to pursue this line of potential honesty, “It was probably just a way to stroke her ego.   It’s not like I don’t get that, but she sure did like to paint a picture to me about how unhappy she was with him…”

“You and me both.” Veronica replied, gaze fixed away from him. “What were you supposed to tell her?  That she could do so much better?”

Sometimes these days he almost forgot that Veronica had been Lilly’s best friend, that she told her everything that really mattered.  Of course, that meant that he didn’t really matter.  He had always known that, even when he maybe wanted to believe otherwise, but there is maybe a small part of him that wanted to hold on to the idea that maybe he did.  

“Is that what you would tell me? If I said yes… If I asked you to tell me why I shouldn’t be with Logan?” Veronica turned around sharply to look him in the eyes.

“Pretty sure it would be a better option than giving you the spiel I gave her, the one that goes something like ‘I’d never let you feel alone’ and ‘Just let me show you how much better it can be.’ You know, that kind of crap.”

It was his turn to stare out the windshield, away from her.  Normally he would make a joke out of it, wink and suggest that maybe she wanted that all along, for him to profess his undying love, but not now.  They were both too raw.

“Tell you what.  If I ever do decide I want you to talk me out of dating Logan, I’ll let you know which version of the speech I’m looking for.”

“Deal.”  He agreed.  He knew they would never have that conversation, or at least not that version of it. That was what Lilly wanted to hear - she got  off  on hearing how much he wanted her. But Veronica wasn’t Lilly. She liked having leverage of a different kind.  Getting the better of someone.  Oneupsmanship . Veronica wasn’t interested in the straight power of someone finding her desirable, even if she used it to her advantage if she felt it was needed.

A Song of Ice and Fire (really not Game of Thrones)

Jaime/Brienne Adventure Romance:  Because this ship deserves a long plotty romance novel and I wasn’t ready to write that kind of thing in 2008 when I stopped writing them but I am now.  Definitely book and not show universe.  Jaime and Brienne go looking for Arya across Essos.  Excerpt:

“Indeed father.  He does know me.  Do you not recognize Ser Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer?”

Brienne waited for Jaime to respond to the barb, but he did not. Her father looked surprised, doubtless he had expected Brienne’s visitor to be of less consequence. She could see him going over Jaime’s features and attire, as if putting the pieces together.

“It is an honor Ser. We so rarely get such important visitors here on our humble island.”

“Doubtless, Ser Jaime is here for his reward.”

“Reward?” Lord Selwyn looked, if possible, more perplexed.

“For saving my life, father.  Surely you will satisfy him.”

“He… he saved your life?”  

“Yes, when I was in the bear pit at Harrenhal. Really father, you’d think you didn’t listen to a word I said about my travels.”

Her father was indeed no longer listening to her.  Doubtless he was busy concocting some heroic version of her rescue that would culminate in his at long last marrying off his daughter.  Brienne was sure that’s what he thought the outcome of this visit would be, though he must have known Jaime was part of the Kingsguard.

At last Jaime spoke, “You mistake me, my lady.  I came seeking no reward.”

“Surely Ser, you came for something.”

“I came to see you, Brienne, for there are things I wish to discuss with you.  That is all.”

“You might have sent a letter.”

“Perhaps, but it I did not.  Will you walk with me?  While I am here I was hoping to witness the splendor of the Sapphire Isle.”

Jon/Sansa Fake!Married Trope:  Also definitely book!verse.  Following Danaerys’ reconquest, both remaining Starks attempt to leave Westeros without attention.  They run into each other. Excerpt:

She was undeniably lovely, with creamy skin and blue eyes he hadn't seen the like of since he left Winterfell.  She stared at Ghost in surprise, but not in fear.  Indeed she seemed transfixed by the direwolf as she reached her hands out to him and Ghost nuzzled his head against her.  Jon was amazed; he did not think she had noticed his own approach, she seemed so distracted.  

“It can't be.” She murmured to the direwolf, “But there is no mistaking you.  How did you get so far?”

Jon was unsure of how to alert her to his presence without startling her, yet it seemed rude just to stand here.

“They are all gone now, aren't they? Lady, and Nymeria, and Summer, and Greywind, and even Shaggydog.  Is he gone too Ghost, is that why you've found me?”

The woman sounded close to tears, and stranger yet she'd known. She had known not only Ghost but all the rest of the direwolf pups.  Realization dawned on Jon and he recognized Sansa, although his half sister had grown from a pretty child to a beautiful woman since he'd last seen her.  He wanted to say something, but the words caught in his mouth as he watched her fling her arms around the direwolf with a sob.

Crossovers

Restoration: Dresden Files/Revolution NBC, coauthored with @jaqofspades.  Miles Matheson doesn’t remember he’s a wizard, not that it matters with all the magic gone after the blackout.  Dark twisty multishipping with every kind of delicious wrong.  We need to get back on writing this eventually. 

Tagging: @talsi74656, @jaqofspades, @joyful-voyager, @sophia-helix, and @starfleet-vs-maquis if you guys want.

ETA: Oh I forgot one my favorite current projects!

That Massive 24th Century Trek Series Crossover AU: Which is a follow up to The Smallest Twine, in which certain details of the Cardassian Treaty get leaked before it is signed and the Federation is very nearly plunged into civil war.  It continues to explore the J/C relationship from the first story in the AU but also features a lot of our favorites from TNG and DS9 as well as more of the VOY characters.