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snowdice · 4 years

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The Things We Never Mentioned (Part 1 of 3)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan/Patton

Characters: Logan, Patton, oops i made a self insert Lia(OC)

Summary:

“Believe it or not, academia and relationships are not mutually exclusive.” That was likely true, Logan knew. It was also not the problem.

The problem was his ability to move things with his mind, a blue suit he kept in his bag, and the mountains of red files he kept hidden in his apartment. No one knew that Logan was Bluebird, the cities resident superhero. He hadn’t even told his parents and he wasn’t planning on doing so. Sharing such a secret with anyone was a danger to everyone involved. He refused to do so.

At the same time, he knew that starting a romantic relationship with anyone who didn’t know the truth, was unfair to that person. Inevitably they would find out and there would be a disastrous fallout, but beyond that, starting a relationship on a foundation of lies was a horribly cruel thing to do to another person.

These two conflicting rules Logan followed had never posed an issue for him before recently, but…

But he did like Patton.

This is a three-shot dealing with events set before my story Sometimes Labels Fail set about a month and a half after the mini fics A Coffee Shop Meet Cute and A Coffee Shop Incident Report.

Notes: Superhero AU, people crushing really hard

“Why are you being all weird?” Lia asked.

Logan paused in his grading and frowned at her from across the table. They were seated in “The Hideout” at one of the tables with 200 exams between them. “What do you mean?”

“You’re acting all cagey. You keep looking around and you’re rubbing at the sleeve of your sweater like you do when professors are handing back assignments you struggled with.” Logan stopped the indicated action and placed his hands resolutely on the tabletop.

“I’m fine.”

“Too many people?” she asked. “We can go to my apartment if you want. Greg won’t mind.”

“No!” he said, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically judging by the odd look she gave him. “I quite enjoy this coffee shop.”

“…What’s your deal today Logan?”

“I am simply stressed at the number of final exams we have to grade by tomorrow.”

“I don’t know if I believe you.”

“That is not my problem,” he replied and took a sip of his coffee before going back to his grading. He still couldn’t stop his eyes from going to the door every so often.

It was about 15 minutes later when the bell over the door chimed and Logan’s hand went still when his eyes found “The Hideouts” newest patron. They met eyes briefly and Patton immediately corrected his course toward the table.

“Hi Logan,” he said with a smile, stopping about a foot away from where Logan sat.

“Hello Patton,” he replied. “How are you today?”

“Oh, I’m good.” They made eye contact for a couple of moments longer before he seemed to register Lia’s presence. “Oh, um. Sorry if I’m intruding.”

“You’re not,” Lia said before Logan could say anything. “Hi, I’m Lia,” she said offering her hand. “And you’re Patton if I heard right.”

He shook her hand with a smile. “I am. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too. How do you and Logan know each other?”

“We’re just both regulars here and I almost poured a cup of coffee on him about a month and a half ago.”

“Wow,” she responded and then turned her eyes on Logan with some sort of untrustworthy twinkle in them. “Wow,” she repeated.

“Lia and I,” Logan said turning to Patton, “were teaching assistants for the same course this semester and are now grading the student’s finals.”

“I see. Well, you’re obviously busy so I’ll just let you…”

“Oh, you like Mind of Mystery?” Lia suddenly interjected.

Patton looked at her in surprise and then seemed to remember something, looking down at one of the pens on his bag. “Oh!” he said. “Yeah, I do.”

“You know, I love that show. Logan have you ever watched that show.”

“Uh… no.”

“Well that sucks. Now I kinda want to talk about it. Hey, grading doesn’t really take much brain power. Why don’t you grab a coffee and come sit with us? We can talk about the show. It will keep my mind off this mountain.” She waved to the stack in front of her.

“Oh, I,” he said, biting his lower lip. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“It’s fine,” Logan said instantly.

Patton looked at him and smiled widely before looking away. “Okay then,” he replied. “I’ll go get some coffee.”

He watched the other man walk to the counter and then turned back to Lia. “What?” he asked at the strange look on her face.

“Oh my god,” she said and reached over to give him a punch on the shoulder. “You didn’t tell me you had a cute coffee shop boy.”

“I don’t have him Lia.”

“Have you asked him?” Logan felt the tips of his ears heat. “And don’t think I didn’t notice that you didn’t argue that he’s cute.”

“Well that is an objective fact.”

“Oh, is it now?” she asked. “Is that what Logan’s calling objective now?”

“He is clearly aesthetically pleasing. I am simply stating fact.”

“So, there’s no bias there?”

“Not at all, you noticed yourself did you not?” She rolled her eyes.

“Logan,” she said. “My dear friend, co-teacher, and office mate, if you don’t ask out the cute coffee shop boy who is clearly into you, I will slightly move every single one of your pens in the office.”

“And then I will throw your desk out of the window.”

“Come on, Logan,” she groaned. “He’s as cute as a button and is making heart eyes at you from the counter.”

Logan craned his neck backwards and Patton was indeed looking at him. He looked away when he met Logan’s eyes. Logan turned back to Lia, his blush now fully formed.

“Please,” she whisper-chanted. “Please, please, please, please, please.”

“Why are you so interested in my dating prospects?” he hissed back.

“Because you’re my friend, you were clearly hoping he’d show up, and you lit up like a Christmas tree when he came in. You have to ask him out.”

“I’m not interested in dating at this point in my life,” Logan said. “I’m quite busy with my studies and teaching. There is no room for such frivolities.”

“Logan I’m getting married this summer.”

“Yes, and that is you. Not me.”

“Believe it or not, academia and relationships are not mutually exclusive.” That was likely true, Logan knew. It was also not the problem.

These two conflicting rules Logan followed had never posed an issue for him before recently, but…

But he did like Patton.

“It isn’t an option for me at this point in my life,” Logan said.

Lia looked like she wanted to respond, but then shut her mouth and smiled over his shoulder. Patton appeared back at the table a moment later. He grabbed a chair from a nearby table to sit.

“How did the end of the semester go for you?” Patton asked.

“For the classes I took, it went well,” Logan answered. “As for the one I taught, it is not quite as over as I would like.” He gestured toward the exams stacked on the table.

“That looks like a lot.”

“Ugh,” Lia said. “It is and I’m suffering.”

Patton’s nose scrunched up a bit as he smiled. “Did you enjoy what you taught this semester at least? Calc II right?”

Lia shot Logan a look as though it were not normal behavior for someone to discuss the course they were teaching with an acquaintance or for said acquaintance to retain that information. “Yep,” she replied. “It was pretty fun. The students can be silly, but I like teaching.”

“I’m sure Dr. Stewart thought the same thing about you when you couldn’t remember the definition of a Lie group on your final.”

She stuck out her tongue in response. “Anyway,” she said. “It was a fun course to teach. It’s where you start getting mostly math majors or majors that need a lot of math and not people taking requirements. Plus, I got to work with Logan this semester so that was nice.” Logan rolled his eyes at her and hid his warming cheeks by taking a drink of coffee. “He’s great to work with, you know. The students all like him because he’s good at being patient and very thorough.” Okay, another drink of coffee. “I like working with him because he doesn’t hit on me since he’s very gay.” Logan chocked on his coffee.

“I’m,” he stopped to cough. “Unsure what my sexuality has to do with anything.”

“I’m just making conversation,” Lia replied innocently.

Patton chuckled softly and bit his lip with his own light blush on his cheeks. Oh god. He knew. If Logan had less self-restraint, he would have just thrown himself out the window and flown into the sun. Patton cleared his throat after a moment. “Didn’t you want to talk about Mind of Mystery, Lia?” he ask.

She frowned. Clearly, she did not want to talk about a television show. Yet, she was thankfully forced by social convention to discuss it with him. Logan did not have much to contribute about a television show he had never watched, but despite that, found himself unable to effectively grade. He held the red pen in his hand and hovered it over one of his students’ exams, but all of his attention was on their conversation. Patton was soft spoken usually, but his voice was always clear. That is unless he was tired. Logan secretly loved the days he came in a little sleepy even though it must be bad for the man’s health, especially as it was often during the mid-morning. His speech got a little slower and his voice went deeper. He also lost some of his sense of boundaries and got a bit touchier when tired. With most people, this would make Logan cringe, but with Patton it made his chest warm.

The conversation slowly came back around to talk about the exams Logan and Lia were grading which Logan was more prepared to be a participate in.

“Hey, what’s the answer supposed to be for 26?” Lia asked. “My answer’s not lining up with Dr. Bakers.”

“Which test form?” he asked.

“B,” she replied. “It’s this one.” She leaned over to point to a question on the blank exam she’d been using to scribble on. Patton leaned over to glance at it too as Logan wrote it down on some scratch paper to work it out. Ugh. Integration by parts. He was too brain numb for this right now.

“1/2- ln(2)/2,” Patton said after a few moments. Logan looked over at the napkin in front of him where he’d written out the steps in precise script.

Now, Logan tried very hard to not be an academic elitist. He’d honestly been absolutely obnoxious in his high school years but had taken a step back and reevaluated his attitude later in life, helped by being humbled by a few of his first-year graduate classes. He had not cared about Patton’s ability to solve calculus problems. It was not at all why the man captivated his attention in the past month. In fact, he’d been running under the notion that the man was not particularly book smart and he had been perfectly content to strike up an acquaintanceship with him despite that.

So why did he suddenly want to capitulate to what Lia had been needling him about this entire afternoon just because the man could calculate a definite integral.

Perhaps it had little to do with the equation at all.

“Pretty and smart,” Lia commented. Logan kicked her under the table and for good measure made the plastic coffee cup that was teetering on the edge tip all the way over. Lia made a noise of frustration and got up to get some napkins to clean up the mess.

“Please ignore everything she says,” he said to Patton.

“I think it’s sweet,” Patton said. “She seems like a good friend.”

“I would barely call her a friend,” Logan murmured, “She won’t even be an office mate once I manage to get her desk to the roof of the math building.”

Patton laughed, but they were interrupted by something beeping at his waist. He glanced down at what seemed to be a pager. “Oh!” he said. “I’ve got to go, sorry.”

“Of course,” Logan said, blinking at the pager. “I hope it isn’t an emergency.”

“Oh, it’s always an emergency,” Patton mumbled. “Bye Lia,” he said when she returned back to the table. “I’ve got to go, but it was nice meeting you.” He turned to Logan. “I’ll, um, see you later. Probably not today, but later.”

Logan nodded. “Have a good rest of your day,” he said and got a small smile in return.

“Bye Patton, nice to meet you!” Lia called after him, and then he was out the door.

They decided to finish grading for the day about 20 minutes later.

“Well,” Lia said chipperly when they exited the coffee shop. “That was a productive coffee shop grading party.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Sure.”

“But… we still have over 150 exams to have graded by Monday.”

“Right,” Logan said. “Somebody kill me.”

Want to read more? Click below!

AO3 Part 2 Part 3

#sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #logicality #sanders sides fic #relabeled; refiled #labeled universe #adriana writes #i say they're both oblivious gays #but both of them are painfully aware

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onewaywardwitch · 5 years

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Wedding Crashers

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: You should have known better than to think your clumsiness would disappear for one night.

Word Count: 1656

Warnings: Language? Pure fluff

A/N: This summary sucks but I think I might finally be over my writer’s block? (!)

Tony was nothing if not thorough on a regular basis, and his wedding day was no exception. No one was surprised when he had given everyone strict instructions, including being polite to all his guests, a well-groomed appearance, and making sure Pepper’s mother didn’t get absolutely smashed as she tended to at social events.

But lucky you got your own set of rules.

“Just don’t break anything. Don’t cause a scene. And definitely don’t accidentally fire a gun,” Tony had explicitly stated, giving you a stern look while he made himself some breakfast.

“Okay, that only happened twice,” you defended.

He sighed, overloading his toast with an ungodly amount of butter, making you pull a face at the sight of it. “Look, the wedding is next week. Pepper has been pulling her hair out for more than two months now, and she really needs a stress-free week. So please, just don’t be yourself for the next seven days.”

You momentarily took pity on him. He was just as concerned with all the planning as Pepper was. And you were fully aware that you were the biggest risk to their perfect day. So, you promised you would be a well-behaved and perfectly presentable guest.

At least, that was your intention

~~~~~

“I'll take that, thank you very much,” you smirked, reaching across a slightly miffed Bucky and stealing the glass in his hand. Sam laughed at his expression while you just downed the contents of his glass.

“But that was mine,” he whined. “Go get your own alcohol. Or ask me to get you a drink too.”

You gaped at him. “I did! Nearly-,” you glanced at the non-existent watch on your wrist, “-twenty minutes ago. But the bartenders are refusing to serve me, thanks to Tony. He was very clear about me drinking. Apparently I'm a ‘messy drunk’. Not entirely sure why he thinks that.”

“Well, he has a point, sweetheart.”

Your playful bickering continued on, much to Sam’s amusement. It wasn’t anything new. Your incessant flirting had been the cause of everyone’s annoyance for months before Bucky finally asked you out, much to everyone’s relief. You nearly declined. You wanted to be the one who asked him out and it forever annoyed you that he got there before you, something he never resisted to tease you about. Contrary to the common belief, neither of you eased up on the teasing, but it was entertainment for all the other Avengers. Sam was thrilled when you both got together, not that he would ever admit it. He knew Bucky needed to get a life, and you were just the right level of ridiculousness for him. He was forever sending you coupons for a free couple’s massage, claiming ‘it’ll be good for your relationship!’

“God, Bucky will you pop the question already? You two already act like a married couple,” Sam laughed.

That one simple comment set off a number of events.

Firstly, you nearly coughed up a lung as you choked on your (Bucky’s) drink.

Secondly, Bucky knocked Sam over the head. With his metal arm. So, Sam naturally went flying off his chair with the force of the hit. Using his amazing Avenger level skills, he grabbed onto the tablecloth as some form of support, causing all the glassware and expensive cutlery to come crashing to the ground on top of him. Which, of course, drew everyone’s attention to your table.

You glanced at Bucky’s tomato-red face and did your best not to burst into laughter.

“I can help myself up, thanks,” Sam grumbled as he stood up, picking off a napkin from his shoulder, failing to notice all the stares he was getting from the disgruntled wedding guests. Tony was glaring right at you. You held up your hands innocently and discreetly pointed at Bucky who was trying to clean up some of the mess. He gave you a warning glance before turning back Pepper.

The rest of dinner went smoothly. You and Bucky didn’t discuss Sam’s comment. You thought it best if you didn’t. You knew you both acted like a married couple half the time, and after dating for a few years now, it seemed that’s the direction you were heading in, but you decided that the healthiest option would be to bottle it up and not talk about it.

You groaned as you watched Pepper walk onto the stage, hair framing her face perfectly, bouquet in hand. No, you weren’t a bitch for looking miserable, you knew exactly what was coming and did your best to block out Tony’s voice, no doubt calling all the single ladies to gather around.

They formed a terrifying crowd of desperate, lonely women, determined to get their perfectly manicured claws around Pepper’s bouquet. You stood far back from them all near the bar you were banned from with Wanda, leaning against one of the many marble statues scattered across the venue and laughing how it was a silly tradition that got people worked up for no reason. You noticed Bucky standing to the side, laughing at something Steve had said. He must have felt you staring and caught your eye, sending you a wink. You thought after years of dating you’d be used to his flirting, yet it never failed to turn your cheeks a bright pink shade.

You were so consumed in your conversation that you didn’t even notice Pepper throw the bouquet much harder than intended. It went flying over the crowd and everyone turned to watch it hit the back of your distracted head with great disappointment on their half.

You felt the thwap against your head and turned around, convinced Bucky had flung something to mess with you and see if you could get kicked out of the wedding. It was precisely three seconds after you picked up the beautifully wrapped flowers that you realised what they were and their significance.

You reacted exactly how a normal person would in such a situation; you screamed and dropped the bouquet. But it wasn’t just you looking at the flowers in horror. You glanced up and saw that your boyfriend had also shouted and was now pointing at the flowers on the ground, his mouth agape in shock.

You took several steps backwards, observing them as if they were a bomb. Or a spider. God, you hated spiders. You shook your head. Probably not the best time.

You were convinced you could feel the skin on the back of your necking burning off and surely enough, Tony was trying to murder you with pure willpower.

“Ok, this is clearly your new wife’s fault,” you accused, attempting to laugh it off awkwardly. “You honestly can’t have expected me to react in any other way. I’d consider this night to be a success with minimum disasters.”

~~~~~

“Well, this is far more comfortable than those ridiculous chairs they have inside. I mean, he’s a billionaire for goodness sake! You’d think he could afford some chairs with a bit of back support. We don’t all have the build of a super soldier with freakish bone strength!”

“Are you done?” Bucky deadpanned.

You couldn’t even be mad at Tony for kicking you out. You were just happy that you actually managed to last a few hours without causing a scene. You were now sitting on the curb outside the venue, nodding your head along to the faint beat of the music. Bucky followed you out shortly after Tony had you ‘escorted off the premises’, which was a phrase you were excited to hear, even if it was used against you.

He strolled over and sat beside you, throwing his suit jacket over your bare shoulders as he did so. You smirked, looking straight ahead.

“Is this supposed to earn you some brownie points?”

“What? ‘Course not, I'm just being a good boyfriend… did it?”

You laughed leaning your head against his very muscular arms. It was nice sitting there silently; not chaotic or overwhelming or boring. Simply… nice. Normal. Which was a rarity for you nowadays. Maybe you should thank Tony later for kicking you out.

You felt Bucky shuffling ever so slightly. The smallest of movements accompanied by a restless darting of his eyes to you and back again. You nudged him. “You good?”

He cleared his throat, obviously not thrilled or altogether comfortable with where the conversation was seemingly heading. “You didn’t really mean all that stuff did you? About marriage, I mean.” He looked away from you, staring back out at the empty road ahead while you kept your gaze focused on him.

“I… I'm not sure,” you replied. “I think I'd like to get married. Eventually. I just don’t want anything like this.” You gestured back towards party behind you, where you could now see Steve almost completely carrying an extraordinarily drunk mother-of-the-bride into a car, no doubt to drive her home on Pepper’s behalf. You both winced. It seemed you weren’t all able to keep every single one of your promises to Tony. “If we were to ever get married, I'd want it to be small. No expectations. No stress. Maybe Vegas! And we could just wear our pyjamas!” Your face lit up at the thought.

“We?” Bucky questioned, raising his eyebrow as he watched you blush once you realised your words.

“Yeah? Yeah- you're kinda the only person I'd ever want to marry.”

“Sweetheart, I'm blushing!”

“Oh shut up,” you laughed, shoving him off the curb.

He grinned, pushing the strands of hair that had fallen from his bun back behind his ears. “You realise there's a bench right behind us?”

“No!” you gasped, getting to your feet immediately. “The ground is freezing; I can’t feel either of my buttcheeks!”

Bucky smiled softly at you, watching you get cosy on the bench that you hadn’t even noticed, patting the small box in his trousers pocket and mentally thanking Sam for the idea.

Bucky Barnes Taglist:

@glitterypinkkitty

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theonewiththefanfics · 5 years

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Hawkins’ Charm (Part 7/?)

Synopsys: They had gotten out of Hawkins. After all the shit that had happened, all the heartache and pain, Billy and the Reader had gotten away from that hellhole, building their life in California as he had dreamed. But when Max’s graduation rolls around and they go to celebrate, it’s as if the Upside Down was just waiting for all of them to return. And it has a bone to pick.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x f!Reader; platonic!Steve Harrington x f!Reader

Genre: angst, lil bit of fluff

Warnings: blood, mentions of injuries and death, fighting, swearing, mentions of sexy times, but not smut

Word count: 3337

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CONDONE BILLY’S ACTIONS AND THE THINGS HE’S DONE! THIS IS BASICALLY AN AU, WHEN REALLY LOOKING AT IT! SPOILERS FOR S3! READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!

It was like the air had suddenly been sucked out from the world, leaving him a heaving, dizzy mess in the void. His dad. His old man. The person that was supposed to love him unconditionally but had been abusing him since he was a little kid was the one the Mind Flayer was using as a host. “I’m gonna kill him,” Billy seethed. “Did he touch you?” he doublechecked every inch of Y/N’s body. “I’m gonna fucking murder him.” “Billy, he didn’t do anything,” she put a hand on his cheek, and he practically melted, taking in a shuddering breath and nodding. “I didn’t even see him. I’m alright.” “Was he,” he gestured vaguely around, “you know, possessed when we went to his?” Y/N shrugged. “I don’t know, but he was by the time that whole thing at Tina’s happened. But Billy… he knows… about Clara. I tried to keep them out of my head but,” her chin wobbled, and Billy had to keep his composure. “He’s so strong,” Y/N whispered. “Like, not to say what happened to you wasn’t horrible and painful and bad, but he’s,” she shook her head. “He’s so fucking strong. I don’t know how we’re gonna stop him. If we can stop him.” They thought the Mind Flayer might have evolved, they knew it could, but with the way El had struggled against the small piece inside of Y/N, she couldn’t even imagine what battling against the full force of that thing would be like.

“We gotta close the Gate,” Hopper said. “It’s our only option.” A murmur of agreement spread through the people in the cabin, Billy’s attention still on Y/N as she flinched when she reached for the glass of water Robin had offered. She practically gulped the whole thing in a second. Only then did Billy realize how thirsty he was too, but he could wait. “Is my mom,” Max’s lip quivered, making Y/N look at her, and Billy reached for his sister's hand squeezing it in comfort, something that just five or even three years ago he would’ve never voluntarily done. “Is my mom one of them?” When Y/N shook her head no, Max almost sagged to the floor in relief. “I didn’t feel her. He has a lot of others under his control – Tina, Tommy, Vicky, pretty much everyone else that didn’t leave the party that night… they drugged the punch and knocked everyone out, and then Neil helped them bring the rest to Benny’s where… ya know… they got possessed and shit…” Y/N groaned trying to stand up, but when her knees buckled, she opted for staying on the bed. “How does your back feel?” Robin asked, making everyone remember that before being possessed by a Mind Flayer, she’d been dragged away by a monster with knives for fingers. “Like a Demogorgon wanted to make a skinsuit out of me,” Y/N shrugged and hissed at the pain. Without it possessing her, she was back to herself, and it meant she was back to feeling things and not just ignoring the unpleasant itch in her back. Billy was instantly in action mode. “Okay, we need to clean those. Don’t want you getting an infection.” Joyce was immediately on her feet. There was an old bottle of vodka, she’d found in Hopper’s room from that day when she’d ditched their ‘date but not date’ to instead go to Mike’s science teacher, and she went to grab it. “Vodka doesn’t have an expiration date,” she muttered to herself taking a clean cloth as well. “Here,” Joyce gave both of those things to Billy, and Y/N sighed. “This is gonna hurt like a bitch,” he warned soaking the rag with the alcohol and reached for one of the leather restraint that had been wrapped around her wrists. “Yeah, I’m kinda expecting it to,” she grumbled and bit down on the belt. With one final nod, Y/N readied herself, and he pressed the cloth against her wounds. Searing hot pain erupted throughout her body, and for a second Y/N’s vision went completely white. She grabbed onto the sheets and fisted them between her fingers, holding back the scream. Honestly, she’d rather be possessed by the Mind Flayer than feel every single time the alcohol ate at her wounds. And oh god, when Billy had to peel away the scabbed over parts… Y/N thought she’d pass out. Hoped she’d pass out. Childbirth had been easy compared to the torturously slow movements as each crusted bit was ripped from the gashes leaving them open to the air. She spit the belt out to the floor and growled, “Hurry the fuck up!” “Sorry, sweetheart,” Billy murmured seeing Y/N’s face scrunch up as he dragged the cloth across the third out of five slashes. “But I gotta be thorough.” It dragged on for five more agonizing minutes before Billy and Joyce deemed Y/N’s skin would not rot and fall off her back. For the time being at least. She’d definitely need to see the doctor first thing in the morning. “I think these might need stitching,” Billy trailed a careful palm along the two of the deepest gashes. “Yeah, nope,” Y/N shook her head heaving and shuddering, and Joyce applied a compress to her back. It had some sort of a cold salve on it, and it instantly relieved her blazing skin. She’d been the only one smart enough to remember about El talking about Y/N’s wounds, so while everyone had gathered tons of tinfoil, Joyce had bought a first aid kit and some other things that she considered might be necessary. “Thank you for cleaning them up, but I ain’t letting you anywhere near me with a needle and thread,” Y/N smirked. “Wha- hey!” he exclaimed. Usually, he’d slap her arm playfully, but this time he opted out on it. “Do I need to remind you when you tried, keyword tried, to sow up Clara’s dress?” she gave him a pointed gaze and shook her head, smiling as Joyce muttered a ‘men’ underneath her breath. Steve who had joined their little group once the gross stuff was out of the way, crossed his arms and snorted. “What happened?” “I ended up having to throw it out,” Y/N gestured at Billy. “Because cross stitch is so hard.” “It wasn’t that bad,” Billy protested but accepted his defat and helped to wrap the layer of gauze around Y/N’s back. Immediately it got soaked and turned a scarlet color, but it was better than leaving the scabs on with millions of possible infections underneath them. And the red was a much pleasant color than the pitch black. “She’s just being dramatic.” “Frist of all,” Y/N hissed and pointed a finger at him. “I’m allowed to be dramatic. At least right now. Second of all, you managed to sow the dress to your jeans, and then, when I told you to just cut the thread off and pull it out, you cut a hole into the dress.” “It was a stylistic choice.” “Yeah for what, her third arm?” It seemed insane to be bickering about what were now minuscule things. A ruined dress. Billy’s inability to sow. Him being in absolute denial about it. Insane, but nice, given how the actual things they needed to worry about were the possible invasion of their world by an interdimensional alien, a Russian army opening up the Gateway between the two universes and her father-in-law being the main henchman. “How do we explain this to Clara?” Billy nudged his chin towards Y/N's back, and her eyes widened. “Fuck,” she swore under her breath. “I hadn’t thought about that…” There was no way she could just brush it off, and their little Terminator had to know everything. It had been an interesting enough conversation when she’d asked about her dad’s scars, but now when her mom would arrive home with a destroyed back was not something, they thought they’d have to deal with. “You might also wanna figure out what to say to mom,” Alex said as he stood to the side, arms matter-of-factly crossed over his chest. “What? Why?” Alex’s eyes widened. “Graduation’s in like a few hours, and you're gonna show up like that?” That’s when the rest of the kids also remembered Friday was just three hours away, and graduation only fifteen. “Oh, shit,” Max muttered sharing a look with Mike, Dustin, Will and Lucas. El hadn’t gone to a public school, having been taught by Hopper and then Joyce at home. “Well, we can’t go,” Mike said. “This is bigger than some fucking graduation.” “Hey, watch your mouth!” Hopper said pointing at the teen. He was still in the mindset of ‘keep the door open three inches’, no matter if four years had passed. “I think going might be our best bet,” Y/N butted in. “Or at least, you have to go.” “Not to be rude, ‘cause I know you went through some pretty dramatic shit,” Lucas said, “but Mind Flayer versus getting a piece of paper,” he made a gesture as if he was weighing the options with his hands. “The Mind Flayer wins.” Y/N shook her head and stood up, leaning heavily against Billy. “He still needs to keep up the appearances. I mean when Billy was possessed, he went to his job at the pool, so I can guarantee he’ll be at the school. And that’s when we can strike.” The thought of attacking the Mind Flayer and bringing the fight to him, instead of how it usually had been with it striking first, made everyone perk up and start talking, but Billy didn’t join in, even though he might have the most cause to. Instead, he tugged on Y/N’s palm making her attention flit just to him and look at his furrowed brows. It seemed as if the formulation of the words on his tongue were the hardest ever, but in the end, he got them out. “What did you mean by ‘the three of us…?’ When you said you wouldn’t let me taint the three… of you…” “I don’t know…” she shook her head. “I have no clue where that came from.” “Do you,” Billy swallowed harshly and wrung his hands together, “do you think you might be pregnant again?” That thought had crossed her mind, but Y/N didn’t think it to be plausible. Every time they’d had sex they’d been very careful, as they weren’t planning on having another kid. Sure, Clara hadn’t been planned either and turned out to be the best gift ever, but they were doing really well at that moment, so another gremlin would be quite jarring. “I don’t think so… I had my period right before leaving.” “Yeah, but we did have a lot,” he emphasized the word and smirked, “of fun at the motel in the morning. And when we got to yours in the shower… and before going to Tin-“ “Okay, you don’t need to recount every time,” Y/N chuckled feeling heat crawl up her body. “I remember, I was there.” “You better, otherwise, I’d need to remind you.” She tilted her head to the side. “I wouldn’t complain about that. Like at all.” A beat passed before she spoke again. “If it was though…” Y/N bit down on her lip. “Would you want it? Another kid? Would you want one?” Billy snorted cupping her cheeks and giving her a sweet kiss. “If you’d ask me to run through Hell barefoot, I’d fucking skip through it with a smile on my face.” “So, would that be a yes?” “You’re such a dork,” he shook his head, the affectionate grin never leaving. “Yeah, but I’m your dork.” He scoffed. “You better fucking be.” “We’ll figure it out…” Y/N nodded her head as if affirming herself they would. “If we get out of this alive.” “When,” he growled back. “When we get out of this alive. Don’t you dare talk that way.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m just being realistic.” “Well stop it then.” He grumbled like a toddler being told he couldn’t have any more candy. “Be optimistic.” Y/N scoffed. “Yeah, because you’re not only Keg King, but the King of Optimism as well.” He watched her bring Nancy’s given shirt over her head and helped the woman let it slip over her body. Billy loved that body with every inch of his being. He loved each and every birthmark, scar and dip, and now it had been completely rearranged by some monster. There was nothing in the world that would make him think of Y/N as anything as beautiful, but a small part in his head screamed at how much he hated the rips that would scar over at some point. They had been his fault. His ugly marks on her gorgeous body. “Where’s uh where’s your ring?” Y/N asked, clearing her throat and bringing him out of the pondering. This was so not the conversation she thought she’d ever have. It was like they’d had a silent agreement to never take the golden circlets off, so seeing his finger bare, with a pale line around it, made her stomach churn. “When you were missing, I asked El to help find you. She needed something that had a connection to you…” he shrugged flexing his fist. “This was the only thing I could think of.” “And why haven’t you put it back on?” It seemed like the question completely shifted the mood, and Billy let out a sad chuckle. “ ’Cause I don’t think I should.” Y/N’s eyes widened. “What?” She could feel tears burn at the edges of her eyes, but Y/N was not going to let them fall. Instead, she cleared her throat and repeated the question in a much softer tone. “That day when we got married, I promised to protect you. I might have not said it out loud, but I promised it to myself.” Unlike her, Billy allowed himself to fully feel the emotions, a drop rolling down his cheek. “And I failed. How can I put it back on, how can I promise that to you, when I broke it in the first place? I know it wasn’t you saying all those things, that it was the Mind Flayer using my fears against me, but it had a point. I don’t deserve you. Or Clara. For years this whole life has felt like a dream, like a fluke that I’d gotten so lucky. And now I know it is, ‘cause there’s no way I could ever deserve you or your forgiveness.” Y/N thought she’d be sad and hurt by his words, but instead, she was just pissed. “Forgiveness for what?” “For this whole thing,” he gestured at her torn-up body. “Had it not been for me, you wouldn’t have been possessed by that fucker. Had it not been for me, we wouldn’t have gone to Tina’s. I wouldn’t have gotten drunk and pissy, and you wouldn’t have had to wander off into those fucking woods… this whole shit’s my fault…” Her lips were pursed into a very thin line before, Y/N nodded. “Okay, so answer me this – did you know the Gate was open?” “N-no,” Billy stuttered out not sure where the conversation was going. “Did you know the Demogorgon and the Mind Flayer were back?” Once again, he replied with a soft ‘no’. “Did you have any clue any of this would happen?” her voice was getting louder with each word. Billy hid his face in his palms but shook his head no. “Then why are you punishing yourself?” “Because who else am I supposed to punish?!” he exploded jumping up. “You?! I was the one who put you in danger, I am the one with the shit father who’s even shittier now! All of your biggest problems in life have been because of me, and now whenever we’ll go to the beach, whenever you’ll take a shower, I’ll have to see those fucking marks on your back that you wouldn’t have if it wasn’t for me!” Y/N was practically shaking as she stood face her husband, despite the tendrils of pain rippling down her back. “I did not sit by your hospital bed for two whole days while you were unconscious, I didn’t spend my last summer here with you in the ICU for you to say this bullshit to me,” she seethed and moved closer. “Now, you’ll listen to me Billy Hargrove, we’ve been through so much shit, it’s insane. I could write a novel about it and still, there wouldn’t be enough pages to tell the full story.” Her gaze was piercing, and he couldn’t pull his eyes away from Y/N’s. No matter how much Billy wanted to, it was impossible as every word found its mark, yet he still listened to her, still nodded along and let the tears slip down his cheeks, his wife’s soft thumbs brushing them away. “I did not go through childbirth, through doubting myself if I’m a good person, let alone a mother; I did not go through this shit, only for you to tell me that you don’t wanna wear that ring anymore, cause guess what? I’ve fucked up too. That day at the pool when we got into that huge argument and the whole Mind Flayer shit happened to you? I blame myself for that.” Billy’s mouth dropped open in shock. “But – but it’s not. You had nothing to do with it… it just happened, it was bad luck.” “Exactly,” a painful smile of relief made her lips pull up hoping he'd get where she was going with it. “I know it wasn’t my fault, I can’t control the Mind Flayer, but I still blame myself. Maybe if I’d been more understanding, maybe if I’d tried to work it out, it wouldn’t have happened... you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.” His hands shook as he settled them on Y/N’s waist, pressing his forehead tightly to hers. He’d never even considered that she blamed herself for that summer’s events. He never even entertained that idea, ‘cause it was simply untrue, so he didn’t spend time on it. “You blame yourself for this, and I blame myself for what happened to you... even though it was neither of our faults... So,” Y/N let out a shaky breath, “put that fucking ring back on your finger, or I swear, I’ll serve you some divorce papers.” Billy chuckled, pulling back from the embrace to fish out the ring from his pocket, but not before pulling Y/N in for a passionate kiss. Fuck, did it feel good to kiss her again. “Yes, mam.” Beautifully, as if it was made to sit at the base of his left ring finger, the piece of jewellery slid on and stayed there. As it would forever. “I love you,” he whispered pecking her lips. “I love you too, dumbass.” “Whatever you say Mrs Dumbass,” he bit on his bottom lip and glanced down at her. “You’re an amazing person, by the way. And an even better mother.” Y/N mouthed a ‘thank you’ against his lips before caressing them again. “You two okay there?” Joyce asked peaking inside the bedroom as they stepped back from one another. Only then did they realize when the argument had started everyone else had left the room to give them privacy to work things out. Billy nodded, smiling over at Y/N. “Yeah, we’re alright. But I think we’ll be even better when we decide what to do with the whole Upside-Down thing.” “I think I have an idea,” Y/N sighed and, leaning heavily on Billy’s shoulder they entered the living room where everyone else was. Max raised a concerned eyebrow, thumb between her teeth, and when their eyes met, she gave the redhead a small but assuring smile, making her heart lift from her feet back to her chest, knowing that everything was okay between the two. Hopper opened his arms and then put them on his hips. “We’re all ears.”

Tags (crossed out wouldn't take):

Hawkins’ Charm tag list: @genius2050 @aiifandomsunite @ashleymarieriffle @littlefool-smalljester @infinitelycharmed23 @llcalumllhoodll @benevolentgemini @rxmanovbby @euphoniumpets @krazykatykat456 @believerofall @ccidk @babechief @meganmj @blackhood5sos @fml9603 @noodlenerd101 @universefinds @kuroidesuchloe @im-a-stranger-thing @grxxn-gardxns @springholland @beforethebraces @robinisourlesbianmom @queeneliza108 @neenaw-neenaw @lexisntthatweird @choicesismylife @mckenzie2020 @kcd15 @snuggleducky @reckless-sofia @didyouseetheflair @silver-winter-wolf @jay-ta-blog @hopeless-lovex0 @anyasthoughts @robinismyqueen @yeah-butyourenot-dacremontgomery @mcrganstarks @psychoticobsession @cutehipstergirl25 @sbfandom @mickmoon @jackyfrost01 @txhmine @dark-princess99 @morgangrice18 @changingmylifestyle367 @sweetdayme4427 @alowexpectation @sexyvixen7 @golddvstwoman @evelynfreakinaddams @sunfucked @sataninsatin @queenbbarnes @venomavocado @rangotangomango @psychosupernatural @sereiins @frickin-bats @bandsruinedmylife @thee-brunette-princess @queenskyster @aspiring-fangirls-world @gracethegeek9902 @katiexdacre @dreamwavej @escaping-reality21 @void-fire-rose @slvtherinseeker @paranoiadestroyah @arromite @jojo-buttercup @danarysstormborn @graveyard--baby--666

Forever tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @sweet-ladyy @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @teenwolflover28

A/N: heya! Sorry for the delay on this part, but I had such a full weekend that I just didn’t have the time to write or post, but I hope you enjoy this part. The next one might be the last or close to that, but I have a few other Billy imagines in mind, so if you wanna be tagged in any of the future fics drop a message (whether Hawkins’ Charm tag list, Forever tag list (means you’ll be tagged in EVERYTHING or just Billy’s :) )

ALSO! HOLY SHIT WE HIT 6K!!!! WHAT THE FUCK!!! THANK YOU!!! I CANNOT BELIEVE THERE ARE SO MANY OF YOU THAT LIKE WHAT I CREATE AND IT MEANS THE WORLD TO ME THAT YOU’RE STICKING AROUND :****

P.S. my tags are always open

P.S.S. what did ya think? :)

398 notes · View notes

thenonbinarydetective · 4 years

Text

MID Overview/Review

Ok so I redid it because tumblr broke the first one. Luckily, it gave me the oppurtunity to fix some of my grammar/spelling mistakes.

It’s actually even longer than before.

I’m thorough what can I say?

besides please read this it took a while.

· On the menu’s Extra Section there’s a trailer for Nancy Drew and the Hidden Staircase (2019). A movie that came out way before this game which is kinda funny

· The movement is a little janky, to put it in professional terms, it’s a little fast and jumpy. It took a bit to get used to the navigation.

· The problem with the movement really jumps out in the end in the tunnels. I could barely get my cursor around the Hardy Boys or even Mei.

· Also in the tunnels, if I went slightly off trail the game would FREAK out. I wanted to look around the tunnels and maybe get a bad end but our Sleuths but I couldn’t look around without being yelled at.

· This happens in other mini games and puzzles, whenever you mess up the characters make a snarky remark in your direction. Every. Single. Time. It would be funnier if it was only on a few occasions but it was every time I “messed up”.

· The graphics were obviously terrible. They also were variable…Somethings looked kinda okay and somethings looked awful. Like the quality changed from time to time. Sometimes even in the same frames. Frank, graphically, looks better than some of the other characters. When he and Joe stood next to each other, they almost looked like they didn’t belong in the same game. This goes for some of the other characters too.

· I don’t get why Frank was always in that pose? Everyone else stood awkwardly but admittedly it was a bit more normal. They stood with their hands towards their hips like how people typically do. Although there was a few times where people just grabbed their wrists for no reason.

· As someone who loves mythology and folklore (and pretty much anything that can be tied to into those) it was really cool to see the Malleus Maleficarum or The Hammer of Witches in the game. I wish it actually had more use in the game and maybe helped in some way. I know the book did some terrible things but it is an interesting read. As I do own a copy of it.

· Also my birthdate was used on the puzzle. Which was cool. It’s fun to be born on special dates. Except my birthday isn’t part of the solution but that’s okay.

· There’s a couple times where Nancy(and Frank) starts talking about clues or reading things out loud before I got the chance to look at them which was super annoying.

· The game crashed multiple times while playing

· The closer look at the clues was nice but was only okayish for me. It didn’t always work that well. Besides I’ve seen other games with the same function that worked smoother.

· I’m not a big fan of the new chat format. I prefer the old way. In this new format a lot of the dialogue options were getting cut off or the option didn’t fully describe what Nancy was going to say so I didn’t know what I was choosing.

· The text boxes were a bit buggy and there were times I couldn’t click on some of the dialogue options.

· The cutscenes were slow and the game had WAY too much talking. There was more talking than gameplay. The game was honestly just walking and talking

· I liked the text messages, they were fun and cute but they didn’t add much to the gameplay

· Lots of objects were clipping into each other

· Loading screens were always glitch

· The audio was off a lot of times. There were times when I could barely hear the characters over the background music or ambience sound. In Austria, I called Ned and Carson and I wouldn’t have even known they were speaking if not for the subtitles. Even after lowering the music and ambience sounds specifically and I still had this issue.

· Also Ned’s voicemail has changed. Did he make up with his sister?

· There were a lot of spelling and grammar mistakes. Almost every other written thing (books, pamphlets, and notes) had some kind of mistake. Hotchkiss’ book is one example.

· There were times when the pop-up text box was harder to read than the written thing. Not all the paragraphs were spaced out far enough in the boxes but were fine on the written thing.

· No “Can’t check that off yet.” The Checklist was unusable by the player. Unlike every other game. It did it automatically which wasn’t fun. I liked using the checklist.

· The game was so linear that I couldn’t really look around or do my own thing. When one thing was down you were immediately shuffled to the next thing. It basically made the checklist unnecessary.

· Terrible Animation. People moved for no reason. Just stuck in the same cyclical animation over and over and over again. They were pretty janky and awkward. Joe was the worst for me, he was constantly twitching on the screen. Frank was stock-still in comparison. No one else was that bad.

· Many of the mouth movements did not remotely match what the characters were saying. Sometimes nonexistent.

· Everyone’s EYES ARE SO WIDE. IT’S LIKE THEY DON’T HAVE EYELIDS. THEY’RE SO OPEN.

· The Parry’s curtains glitch in the sink. There’s a few plants that look weird, they had a neon glow on them. Olivia’s hands are always clipping through her robe and hair. In Moosham Castle there is a thing that’s inside a table. Both the Hardy Boys’ feet (and maybe other characters) were entirely in the ground at times. There were plenty of other problems like that.

· If I looked around a certain way while everyone’s talking at the Parry kitchen table Frank’s entire body disappears with the exception of his neck and watch.

· Some of the windows had a view of the town outside but other windows have this shine that you can’t see through.

· I’m not thrilled about the bystanders. Only the protest guy really helped. Over all they didn’t add to the game or help me at all.

· Dr. Hirst’s silhouette was kinda weird

· Also why did the game start in Austria??? That’s just weird? I thought we were just gonna start with Deirdre calling us but whatever

· I really hate the needless and honestly misplaced drama. Why couldn’t we talk to Ned and why haven’t we talked to Ned. It really pissed me off. Why would you put this directly after Ned’s whole “I Love and Support- This Could Basically Be a Proposal” Speech in Sea of Darkness? It’s just super off

· Not to mention the fact that the “Francy” moments in this game felt super forced. I don’t like what it does to their characters too. It feels like Ned isn’t trusting Nancy, which is crazy because he trusts her with his life. Frank is the more awkward Hardy Brother but that was ramped all the way up. Also Nancy completely ignoring Ned? What? They don’t feel like themselves here. It’s just off. This tone should’ve been brought in so soon, chronologically, after SEA. It’s out of place.

· Who was the female voice that was in the phone call with Ned? That was never answered. Was that a drama plot that was unfinished? Why not take it out of the game if you’re never going to resolve it? Why start an unnecessary relationship drama that’s both half-assed and unfinished?

· It’s kinda weird how in the end Nancy leaves the Parry house and calls Ned and we can hear her side of the conversation but not his. She’s just talking to herself.

· The phone friends were basically useless. If it wasn’t for the flashlight and the checklist I would say that Nancy didn’t even need her phone. And I guess talking to Damian Faulkner. 95% of the calls I made just went to voicemail. I want to chat about the case, talk to my friends, and get hints like we used to. I didn’t even know we could call Dr.Hirst about the ergot poisoning. I only found out on accident. I don’t know how many conversations I missed. Calling people used to feel important but here it doesn’t even need to be in the game it’s so useless.

· Just because this bugs me I don’t like the Hardy Boys starting their own detective agency. They began their work by working for their Dad. Who is a private investigator/private detective. Who runs a Detective Agency. Why would they start their own?? If you’re gonna make this a family business why not make it a family business? Right?

· May February, 1692 was an actual date they used. I think it was supposed to be February and they changed it to May. Earlier in the same note they used May so I’m guessing they didn’t properly finish the rest of the note.

· The lockpick game was visually glitch for me and the game itself didn’t work that great for me

· Joe’s hair makes him look like a fake blond lol. There are parts of his head (by the nape of his neck for example) that have brown hairs. Also some parts of his hair didn’t load properly on occasion and underneath was brown. Did he dye it?

· Which brings me to my next point. The hair was animated horribly. Frank and any of the other short and simple haired characters were okay. But probably only because they had short and simple hair. The longer haired characters were not as well animated.

· I randomly got double the Johnny Cakes when I made them. So Teegan and Olivia got extra.

· I will admit that making the Johnny cakes wasn’t the worst cooking minigame we’ve had in the games before.

· Frank getting the Frankenstein ones were a little obvious. It also didn’t feel as personal as the other ones oddly enough. We had a fun little dialogue about the design with everyone but Frank. He just got some cringey “I’ll eat these right away” kind of dialogue.

· I wish the truth serum was actually useful. Solving Tituba’s poem and going a bit out of the way to get the ingredients led me to believe it would be used for more than some “fun” dialogue choices. Joe and Deirdre are the only ones to use it. Which leads to some cute moments in which Deirdre admits she actually kinda likes and admires Nancy. I love her. Joe says he always tells the truth (no) so he doesn’t know how to tell if it works. I love him.

· Maybe it’s just me or the audio was off but Carson sounded different in Austria than he did in Salem.

· The use of the ergot poisoning was kinda of awesome. It’s one of the most popular theories on why Salem went bonkers and it was interesting to see it used to trick our favorite sleuths.

· The note to save Deirdre didn’t appear when I clicked on it. Frank (and I think Joe) reacted to it but it didn’t let me examine it. The bug fixed itself by closing the examination and clicking on it again.

· I love how the “ghosts” were handled. Especially them being hallucinations. My favorite was in the cemetery with the Hardy Boys and Olivia. The screen got kinda weird and everyone started to get worked up and really tense. They started fighting and you could see Abigail before they did. The build up to it was fantastic. The other scenes were cool too.

· The tunnels where the “ghosts” jumped out at every wrong (and sometimes right) turns while you’re desperately trying to escape the tunnels with Mei was pretty awesome. One of the jumpscares even got me.

· THERE WAS NO ENDING LETTER. She wrote a letter to Ned in the beginning but she never wrote a second one. Sure we sorta got to see how everything turned out at the party but it’s not the same. It doesn’t feel properly ended.

· I lowkey ship Jason and Mei. I could totally picture the two of them making out in those hidden tunnel rooms beneath Salem. Not just because I would too. This easily could’ve been another unfulfilled romance sideplot.

· Some of the books/notes really didn’t feel that helpful. I did learn some new things about Salem but I don’t feel we used the knowledge we gained properly in the game.

· The Jack O Lanterns were fun.

· The parallels between the Judges of the Witch Trials and Judge Danforth was a pretty interesting plot point. There definitely is a difference between accusing witches and accusing someone of arson when they were 9.

· Teegan’s guilt for both the shed and Hathorne house was something I didn’t really expect. It was a good plot twist. I can see how it was hinted earlier on by Lauren who says “Teegan likes to protect what’s important to her, sometimes that’s Mei.” Sometimes being the key word.

· The Hardy Boys being home-made ghost hunters was hysterical and adorable. I want them to have their own games soooo badly.

· I am completely on Joe’s side that we can’t prove that ghosts don’t exists, even if we can’t prove they do exist.

· I knew Alicia was the bad guy the second she started shit-talking Ned without knowing him. Only bad people don’t like Ned. He would never force Nancy to become a housewife, that’s not who she is and he loves her for who she is.

· I did “OK Boomer” Judge Danforth. He deserved it.

· I loved the little tidbits that we got of Frances’ and Lauren’s relationship we got to hear about. It’s really sweet.

· The comparison of Jason being a fast food cheeseburger with extra extra extra cheese and Ned being a home-cooked meal is perfect. Home-cooked meal is a great way to describe Ned.

· Either way they’re both snacks.

· Ok Jason’s ugly in these graphics but it was implied he was supposed to be hot.

· Jason could’ve been a true himbo but unfortunately he wasn’t

· TBH Ned, Carson, and Damian were the most attractive characters in the game. Only because they weren’t subjected to these graphics.

· I loved the Ghost Wavelength Spectral Analyzer 2.5 the Joe Hardy Guide to Amazing Finds but I hate the spectral analyzer itself. That mini-game was the WORST. It took forever!

· Alicia was straight up just gonna kill everyone. I’m doubting her biology knowledge.

· Also if you wanna raise kids in a more “modern” environment just freaking move. I know there was money in that real estate deal but there’s real estate in other towns.

· I love Deirdre. She’s really funny and kinda sweet. Even though she likes Ned (and maybe Nancy too lol) she doesn’t try to break them up or get between them. At least not anymore. She knows how much Ned loves Nancy. She even gave Nancy relationship advice. Which Nancy desperately needs because she terrible at this.

· This is just me but I kinda wish Nancy had an original idea for their vacation instead of just going back to Austria. Maybe let Ned pick this time because he’s the one who has to play catch up all the time and it’s only fair.

· Carson’s an adorable dorky dad and the only rich white man I trust. I’ve said it in my tweets and I will say it until I die. No one can take that away from me.

· This may be repetitive but I don’t like what this game did to Ned, Frank, and I guess even Nancy too. Ned knows about Frank’s feelings for Nancy. And now needless, useless, meaningless drama is gonna happen. I hate it I hate it I HATE IT!

· Just the relationship drama didn’t add a thing to this game. It was stupid. Especially because it was unfinished. It should’ve just been taken out.

· Joe looks 13 and way to skinny. He’s the brawn to Frank’s brain. Yes, he’s smart too and Frank isn’t weak. However, Joe is way stronger than him. If there has to be a scrawnier Hardy Boy, it’s Frank and we all know it.

· To quote Joe he’s got Man Strength™.

· Cause “Boy” is only part of the title, but Hardy Men doesn’t have quite the same ring to it.

· At times it feels like that the creators forget that Joe’s supposed to be smart too. There were times where it felt like they made him a total idiot. Though that could be personal too.

· Frank being a total Captain Obvious, perfect.

· They’re both puppies that got turned into human boys. Frank is just a calmer puppy

· Love that Mei’s going to Waverly but some of the other references fell flat. The Cat thing and the “I only smoke when I’m on fire” thing. It’s just not the same.

· Jason deserves the Not-As-Much-of-a-Jerk-as-You-Could-Have-Been Award.

· Mei’s a sweetie when she finally lets you in.

· The multiple endings seemed to have changed from different culprits to just what happens to Hathorne House and/or Teegan (I think). They seem to be pretty much the same. I did expect that as that has often been my experience with “multiple endings” games.

· I’m glad that both the Accused Witches and Lauren can get the house. It seems right for that to happen.

· Olivia’s pretty funny. I have a thing for eccentric characters. And it was funny how she tried to induct us into the coven at the end.

· The red/ginger hair superstition is a real superstition and I’m glad it was used. It’s for witches, werewolves, and vampires. Not just that gingers have no souls. (from the Malleus Maleficarum)

· If there is another game, I hope it’s the Nedcy vacation. And that we actually get to see Ned lol. I don’t get why he has never made an in-game appearance. It’s a little unfair at this point.

· Considering Emerson College is 39 minutes away from Salem and we still didn’t get him, I doubt it. Even though they mentioned both Salem and kidnapping Ned in Labyrinth of Lies.

· Also that the next one feels more like a Nancy Drew game.

· There’s no puzzles and there’s so much changed that it doesn’t have the same feel to it.

· This doesn’t feel like it took 4 ½ years to make. It feels like it took less than ½ a year. I can tell that things have changed because pretty much all the people who worked on it originally got fired. And that the Austrian game development company that took over everything (besides licensing) struggled to match the quality of the previous games.

· It definitely wasn’t beta-tested or was barely beta-tested. Quite a few beta-testers have come forward to say they didn’t get the offer to beta-test until September of this year. A month before preorder. Yikes.

· I know I got a little mean for some of the points but coddling the company by just saying positive things doesn’t help. They’ll get comfortable and give the fans worse things than this. I’m not an expert but I’ve played and learned enough games that I know some basics about how they’re made. It’s not easy but that doesn’t mean we should excuse things because of it.

· There’s been a lot of controversy with HER and Penny and this game and probably more. I’m not gonna get more into that besides mentioning that things changed because of this and not for the better.

· I probably missed somethings but whatever this is over 3000 words. I covered the basics and then some.

· This game is just a 2.5/5 for me

#nancy drew #mid spoilers #midnight in salem #ned nickerson #nancy drew games #herinteractive #frank hardy #joe hardy #the hardy boys #the hardy brothers #mei parry #teegan parry #olivia ravencroft #lauren holt #judge danforth #jason danforth #alicia cole #deirdre shannon #carson drew

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whatmakesmehappyy · 6 years

Text

The Cove Part 7

“Where is everybody?” You questioned when you and Grayson had made your way onto the deserted beach.

“Eth said they’ll be here soon. Laura needed to sober up a little, I guess.” Grayson shrugged and shoved his hands in his pocket. The lake was quiet, ripples in the water reflecting the moonlight. The wind was blowing slightly but it wasn’t cold. You looked to the cove, wanting to check if D had written back, “You okay?” Grayson touched your shoulder lightly. You turned to him and nodded with a smile, “Do you want to swim?” He nodded his head to the water. You didn’t have a suit but you were wearing shorts and your bra would dry if it got wet.

“Yeah, let’s go.” You pulled your top off and walked to the water. It had cooled significantly from the day but wasn’t cold enough to stop you from swimming. As you were about to dive in Grayson ran past you and jumped up, completely submerging himself. You laughed as he resurfaced, his previously styled hair now dripping onto his face and covering his eyes. You brought your hand up to your mouth to stifle the laugh coming out of your mouth. Joining Grayson in the water you submerged yourself until you couldn’t reach the bottom and were treading water. Grayson swam closer to you until he was about an arm’s length away, “Y/N there’s something I want to show you.” He came a bit closer and you nodded, you’d follow Grayson anywhere if he asked. He started to swim towards the shore and you followed. As soon as you got out of the water, however, the rest of the party came onto the beach. Grayson stopped so suddenly that you ran into his strong back for the second time that night. You rubbed your nose again as you stepped away from him. He turned and gave you an apologetic smile, “Maybe later?” You were disappointed but nodded nonetheless. His friends came up to him and they started rough-housing and you looked for Laura or Jack. You found Jack but Laura wasn’t with him.

“Hey, where’s Laura?” You gave Jack a quick hug and he squeezed you quickly.

“She was really tired. I took her home and set her up with some Advil for tomorrow and a few bottles of water.” Jack shrugged and laughed a little, “She gets rowdy when she’s had a few.” You knew all too well what he meant. Laura was a collected person by nature but when she had a few drinks she was like a whole new person.

“Alright, that’s probably for the best that she didn’t come then.” Jack bobbed his head in agreement, “Ethan and Grayson are over there,” you gestured to where they were surrounded by a few people, “I’m gonna go for a walk.” Jack nodded and made his way to his friends and you walked the opposite way towards your cove.

When you reached the cove you opened the notebook excitedly to see that D had written back, “That sounds like a shitty situation, I’m sorry. I think you should tell Brad…” You laughed when you read the name, you had forgotten that you named Grayson “Brad” to hide his-- and your-- true identity, “... about your crush. I know how you feel though, I’m in the same situation. There’s this girl that I’ve had a crush on for years but she and I barely talk. I think she likes my brother which sucks. He knows that I like her and I know that he wouldn’t make a move on her because I like her but it still sucks seeing her with him you know? Anyway, I think honesty is the best policy for you right now. I guess that makes me a hypocrite, huh? I’m telling you to tell Brad about your crush but I’m not going to tell my crush. I’ve never been in love but the feeling I have when I’m with her makes me think I might be falling for her. We should get together for dinner and discuss our hardships. I’m just kidding… kinda. It’d be nice to talk to somebody who knows what I’m going through. Anyway, I’m already late for something so I’d better go. I hope she’s there. I’ll let you know if she is. -D

P.S. What should I call you? I feel weird calling you “wave”... -D”

You smiled at the note. D was right, it felt nice to have somebody that could relate to what you were going thorough. You picked up the pen and started to write back, “I completely agree. It’s nice that somebody knows sorta what I’m going through. I found out that Brad and that girl I thought he was with aren’t actually together and that she has a boyfriend. It makes me feel better but I still can’t carry a very good conversation with him. We had a nice night together and that was the most that I had talked to him since I’ve known him, I think. Maybe I’m getting better at this? Maybe there’s a chance.

P.S. you can call me Kai.”

Kai was the Hawaiian word for sea and you felt like it represented you well. It also hid your identity from D or whoever else might know about your cove. You looked down to the lake and saw a sizeable crowd on the beach and you sighed, knowing that you should probably join or else people might wonder where you were. There were few enough people to where your absence was noticeable but that you could sneak away like you had for a short amount of time. You made your way down the trail and back to where people were mingling. They had brought the alcohol from the party and people were getting a little rowdy. You giggled at some of your friends acting silly with the aid of alcohol in their systems.

“Fancy seeing you here.” You shivered when somebody’s hand snaked around your waist and started travelling to your butt. Whoever it was smelled heavily of alcohol and their breath was fanning over your neck uncomfortably. Turning, you turned saw Dean standing there with a smirk on his face and you grimaced.

“Yeah well, my brother and his best friends put this little party on so I couldn’t really say no.” You started to walk away and kept an eye out for Jack, Ethan, or Grayson. You didn’t want any conflict but being closer to one of them would make you feel much better.

“Yeah? Maybe you should text them, tell them that you’re leaving this party early.” Dean was even more drunk than when you had first come in contact with him at Meg’s sister’s house and he was stumbling after you.

“That’s fine, thanks for the offer, though. I should find my friends.” Dean reached for you and your pulled your hand away.

“Aw, sweetheart, are you saying we aren’t friends? I’m hurt.” You saw him pout out of the corner of your eye and you rolled your eyes at him. You still hadn’t spotted any of the guys and you were running out of options. You thought about going into the water to get away from him but you realized even the colder water wouldn’t dissuade him from following you. Turning to the water you finally caught Ethan’s eye. He was in the middle of the lake surrounded by a few people. When Dean caught your wrist you were forced to break eye contact with Ethan and you tried to tug your arm out of his grasp, “I’m getting you one way or another, fucking prude. You might as well make it easier for yourself.”

“And what are you gonna do? Where you gonna take me? There’s too many people here for you to do anything to me in the open, and judging by your breath there’s no way you drove here yourself. Let me go, asshole.” You tried to look over to Ethan again but Dean grabbed your chin and made you look at him. His breath washed over you and you coughed at the strong smell of tequila.

“You don’t want to test me, bitch.”

“Hey! Let her the fuck go, Dean!” You sagged in relief when you heard Ethan’s voice coming behind you. Dean squeezed your arm and chin tighter when he saw Ethan and you yelped at the pain racing through your body. You struggled with him, wanting to be near Ethan or anybody that wasn’t Dean. “I said,” your body was jostled a little as Ethan shoved Dean, “stay the fuck away from her.” Dean let you go and you stumbled. Somebody grabbed your arm gently and pulled you towards them. Looking up you saw Meg with a kind but sad smile on her face.

“Are you okay?” She touched your jaw lightly and you flinched at the sensitivity, “I’m sorry, come with me.” She guided you towards the coolers and pulled out a can of beer.

“Meg, I don’t really want a drink right now…”

She giggled, “It’s for your face. You need something cold on it.” You nodded and took the can from her.

“What’s happening? Why is Ethan furious?” Jack came up behind you and raised an eyebrow at the can of beer on your cheek.

“Dean was being an asshole. Grabbed Y/N. Ethan got him off her.” Meg explained.

Jack dropped to his knees beside you, “Are you okay? Let me see. Y/N I’m so sorry.”

You removed the can and let him see your face. He surveyed it with furrowed brows. You raised your left arm where Dean had gripped you and he gasped, water gathering in his eyes as he looked at you, “Jack it’s fine, I swear. Meg is helping me and Ethan took care of it. He was bothering me at the party and must have heard that there was a party here too, just bad luck.”

“We’re pressing charges.” Jack stated firmly, “That jackass is going to--”

“Y/N! Are you okay? Let me see. I don’t think he’ll be bothering you again.” Ethan walked over to the table you were sitting at and you noticed his knuckles were a little red. A crowd had gathered around you and Ethan pushed his way through to see you. He crowded in next to Jack, looking at your face and arm.

“I’m okay, thank you for helping me.” You smiled gingerly at him, “You got there just in time.” You picked up Ethan’s hand and frowned at how swollen the knuckles looked. Lowering the beer can from your face you tried to put it on Ethan’s hand but he shook his head and placed in back on your face gently.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner.” Ethan looked away, “He could have-” Ethan cut himself off and held your uninjured hand, squeezing it a bit when he thought of what could have happened.

“It’s not your fault, I’m just glad you were there at all.” You didn’t really want to think what could have happened if Ethan hadn’t seen you when he did.

“What the fuck is happening? Did somebody get hurt?” You heard Grayson’s voice cut through the crowd. Ethan and Jack looked at each other and then over to Grayson who was making his way through the crowd. “Y/N?” you waved weakly, the can of beer still on your face. “What-?”

“Dean.” Ethan gritted through his teeth. Grayson tensed and looked around, “He’s gone, bro. I took care of it. Grayson stop.” Ethan got up to grab Grayson’s arm.

When Grayson turned around to look at Ethan his face was hard and determined, “E…” Grayson trailed off and gestured to you, his eyes softening when he met yours.

“I know, but he’s gone and all we can do now is make sure Y/N is safe and okay.” You felt your cheeks heat up as Ethan and Grayson talked about you as if you weren’t there; in front of the crowd, nonetheless.

Jack squeezed your hand and stood up, “Why don’t we talk about this somewhere else?”

Ethan and Grayson looked at him, “Nah, we’re good. The conversation is over anyway.” Ethan said, sending Grayson a steely glare showing that there was no room for argument, “I think it’s time to go home.” The crowd started to disperse and people started packing up the drinks and pack things away in their cars.

Grayson stayed where he was, watching as you and Meg conversed about what happened. You didn’t really want to relive it but a whole slew of people had seen it and you knew that even if you didn’t talk about it, others would, “You have my number, right?” you nodded at Meg, “Great. Text me tomorrow when you wake up, we’ll go shopping and do a movie. Sound good?” You nodded at her again. The look she gave you didn’t leave much room for objection, but you were glad that she was making these plans. You needed to keep your mind busy and off of what had happened today.

When you looked over to Jack to ask him to take you home he was talking rapidly with Grayson and Ethan, all three of them were gesturing wilding and you grew frustrated. You were right there for crying out loud! “Hey assholes. I’m right here. Don’t talk about me like I’m invisible, or a child. If you have something to fucking say, say it.” You balled your fists but the look of intimidation you were trying to go for was ruined when you flinched when pain shot through your left arm from Dean’s tight grip and made you drop your glare and unclench your fists.

“Grayson is going to take you home, now. I’ll see you in a bit.” Jack said, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

You panicked, thinking that Jack and Ethan were going to go after Dean again, “Jack! Please don’t. It’s fine I’m fine.”

“Shhh, relax. We’re not going to go after Dean. Grayson—“ he cut himself off before continuing, “Gray feels bad that he wasn’t there to help. He wants to apologize.” You glanced over at Grayson who was looking at something on his phone.

“Okay. Promise you won’t do anything stupid?”

“Promise, twin.” Jack gave you a tight hug and another kiss on your head.

You walked over to Grayson and touched his arm gently, “I’m going with you.” He looked up and smiled tightly at you before putting his phone in his back pocket. He rested his hand on your lower back and guided you to the car. He opened the passenger side door and helped you in, “No drinks?” Now that you knew that Grayson and Ethan didn’t drink you tried to make a joke about it ease the tense situation. Grayson gave you a weak smile, shaking his head, “Are you okay? I can go home with Jack if you have something to do. It’d make more sense, actually.”

“No!” The volume of his voice startled you and you jumped, “No. Please let me take you home. I just— I feel so bad that I wasn’t there.” He clenched the wheel tightly. You didn’t know why he was so torn up about what happened and asked him as much. “Y/N. You didn’t deserve that.”

“Nobody does. But I’m fine. Ethan was there. Meg helped me afterwards. Jack will keep him from me if I see him again. It’ll be okay.” You tried to speak softly, reassuring him.

“That’s not it. I know we’ll keep you safe.” Your heart fluttered.

“Then what, Gray?” His eyes snapped towards yours as he rolled to a stop at a stop sign.

“You don’t know? Jack didn’t tell you?” You shook your head, having no idea what he could be talking about, “Y/N I like you. A lot. I have for years.” He broke eye contact and drove forward.

You froze, “Fuck you, Grayson. Let me out. How dare you?” You jiggled the door handle, disregarding the fact that Grayson was currently flying down the road.

“Y/N what— stop! You’re gonna hurt yourself.” Grayson pulled over and parked the car, “What just happened?”

“Who told you? How do you know?”

“Know what, Y/N? I’m lost!”

“I’ve liked you since we were in kindergarten together. And you think just because of what happened tonight you can make fun of me? I may be weak but I’m not pathetic. I know I couldn’t get Dean off of me but I’m not gonna sit around while you try to take advantage of the shitty situation.” Tears were falling on your cheeks.

“I had no idea you liked me, I swear. And I would never take advantage of you. I’m not De—“ he took a deep breath, “I’m not Dean. I would never--.” You looked at Grayson, his eyes were full of sincerity and you were taken aback.

“You didn’t just say that? You meant it?”

“That I like you? Yes. I have for as long as I can remember.”

You huffed, “I’m sorry.”

Grayson started to laugh, “You’re a spitfire, Y/N.” You shrugged, looking away from him, embarrassed. He tilted your chin up with his pointer finger. The gentle contact on your face was a stark contrast to the force that had been used on you just an hour ago. He wiped the tear off your cheek, “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. And I don’t know if you want to take things slow, or if you even want a relationship, let alone with me, but if you’ll have me I’ll keep you safe, always.” Your breath was caught in your throat but you nodded, “Yes to what, Y/N?”

“I want this. With you. I’ve wanted it since I was 5 and you offered me the Blood Orange crayon because the Red crayon wasn’t ‘pretty enough’ for the sunset.” Grayson giggled at you. When him and Ethan had come in to class on the first day of kindergarten Grayson had immediately come over and told you that the colors you had weren’t good enough for the picture you were drawing. You were hurt initially but when he opened his small palm he had a whole array of colors and offered them to you to use. “But, Gray…” he looked at you expectantly, “can… can we take it slow? I don’t…” you didn’t know what you were trying to say but Grayson understood.

“We can take it as slow as you want.” You smiled gratefully. “Let’s get some ice for you. Wanna go back to mine?” You looked out of the windshield and smiled then nodded at him. He smiled back at you before starting the car and pulling back onto the road. “We can watch a movie if you want. I think Jack is staying over tonight too.” A few minutes passed before Grayson spoke up again, “Can I hold your hand?” The request startled you but you smiled and offered your hand to him. He gripped it tightly and laced his fingers through yours. The size difference was almost comical and you laughed, “What’s up, Giggles?” He squeezed your hand quickly.

“My hand is really little in yours.” Your heart was beating erratically at being so close to Grayson and you were working on keeping your breathing neutral. Grayson looked down and nodded in agreement, a big smile on his face. The rest of the drive was spent in comfortable silence, Grayson’s playlist filling the silence. When Grayson pulled into the driveway you saw Jack’s car on the road. Some of the tension in your body was released when you saw it. Grayson opened the door for you and started to lead you inside but he stopped when the two of you reached the porch, “And for the record, Y/N, you’re not weak. Not in the slightest.” He placed a small kiss on the top of your head and you blushed. When the two of you made your way inside you saw Lisa and Sean waiting on the couch with Ethan and Jack sitting across from them.

“Y/N! Sweetie! Are you okay? Sean can you go get some ice? Ethan and Jack told me everything. I’m so sorry honey. Oh look at you.” Lisa ran a hand down your face gently, “You poor thing. Come here.” She guided you to the couch and Sean handed you some ice in a ziplock bag and you thanked him. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?” You shook your head at Lisa. She nodded and patted your leg, “You all should get some sleep. It’s late.” You thanked her as she walked up the stairs with Sean.

“You guys wanna watch a movie?” Grayson spoke up from beside you. Ethan and Jack nodded and Ethan went into the kitchen to make some popcorn.

“Are you guys…?” Jack looked between the two of you. Grayson nodded and you smiled at your brother, “Finally! I’ve been waiting for you two to figure your shit out for ages!” He punched the air a couple times and whooped.

Ethan came running in, “What happened?”

“Y/N and your brother are together!” Jack and Ethan jumped around dramatically, waving their hands around.

“We’re taking things slow right now, asshats.” Grayson rolled his eyes.

“Still! It’s about time!” Ethan called out, walking back to the kitchen, grabbing the popcorn and putting it into some bowls. Even though you had honestly been looking forward to a movie your eyes closed of their own accord as the title sequence started. You were asleep before the first line of the movie was spoken.

@hmmmethan @deluxedolans @castiel-savvy18 @gia-kerks

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ficdirectory · 6 years

Text

Somewhere Inside (Disuphere series #4) Chapter 54

(To listen, click here) - 13:05

Jesus has been trying to manage his weirdass food trigger for the last 24 hours or so. It helps that the Avoiders know what he needs from them. Helps that they believe him and take him at his word. For a while, Mariana was there in case he needed someone in the kitchen. Now, it’s Dominique. If he didn’t know any better, Jesus might think they planned this. That they went behind his back and talked about him.

But his friends aren’t his parents. Jesus’s friends get trauma and all the ways it can present. For them, it doesn’t make Jesus any less of a human being. Any less capable of helping somebody else - should they need it.

After casing the entire kitchen and finally settling on a bowl of cereal and a piece of toast once Pearl said she could go next door and bring some of their food here just for the time being. And whatever they didn’t take with them back to California, Pearl and Levi would be glad to take next door. To make sure it didn’t go to waste.

“So…” he says, regarding Dominique.

“So…” she returns.

“What are you gonna do today?” he finally asks. He’s used to conversation being somewhat stilted between them. It’s how their friendship had started out. And it’s not lost on Jesus that ever since he and Dominique had dealt with Carla, Dominique’s guard had gone back up around him.

No doubt, experiencing a predator’s energy had brought back memories for her, just like it had for Jesus.

Dominique shrugs. “Oh, but Levi and I said we’d take Francesca down on the dock, just the three of us.”

“Life jacket?” he checks.

“Yeah, life jacket. Of course,” she nods.

“Then, cool,” Jesus nods back.

“Can I ask…a non-trauma question?” she ventures.

“Sure,” Jesus says, finding his way through a maze on the back of the cereal box with his eyes.

Dudley nudges him.

“Jesus,” Dominique repeats, clear, but patient.

Blinking, he focuses on her. “Yeah? Sorry. What?” He starts sliding the box of cereal aside, but Dominique shakes her head.

“You can leave it. Edible boundary,” she nods, approving. “Just...I wanted to be sure you’re present.”

Jesus isn’t expecting to, but her edible boundary comment makes him laugh. And that brings him back a little. He glances at her over the cereal box.

“What were you saying?” he asks after a pause to breathe and attempt to focus on what’s actually going on.

“Wanted to know if I could ask you something?” Dominique repeats. “Not trauma related.”

“Yeah. Yes. I dig questions...as long as it’s not a question..that’s not really a question. Or like...a thing where I’m expected to...to…”

It’s like Jesus’s brain, his speech, his everything grinds to a halt at the thought of a question that was really an expectation. A question that would capitalize on his inability to say no.

“Jesus? I won’t ask you to do anything. Boundaries are still a thing,” Dominique reassures. “I remember yours. I respect yours.”

“What about a trick question?” Jesus asks, quiet. Wary.

“It’s not a trick question. Friends don’t lie. It’s not Before, so we don’t have to do that.”

“What’s it about?” he asks.

“Your drawing,” Dominique says simply.

Her answer surprises him. Maybe because his drawing hadn’t been a thing when he was There at all. Jesus had rarely put pencil to paper outside of what was expected at school. Hadn’t even known he really could draw until he got back home and started drawing to communicate how he felt, before Jesus felt okay actually talking.

“I’m curious now,” he admits.

“Not afraid?” she checks.

“No. Not afraid.”

“Does that mean you want to hear the question?” Dominique asks. Jesus loves that she is so thorough, never missing a single step. Never rushing ahead.

“Yes.” Jesus says.

“Have you drawn anything lately?” she asks. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“No, I want to… I just...haven’t really since we did art feelings time and that was kinda dark…”

“Can I ask you something?” Jesus wonders.

“It’s only fair,” Dominique nods.

It’s like a tripwire is spread out in front of Jesus and Dominique. Invisible. Her mentioning the word ‘fair’ now just made it appear in Jesus’s mind.

“I think we need backup. Can I call Francesca in here for a sec?” Jesus asks.

(When Dominique’s triggered, which it seems like she is, Francesca is the safest person for her to be around. Pearl’s an adult. Levi’s a guy, which might be part of the problem right now. And Mariana’s a solid option, just not as solid as Francesca, who’s an actual child, and as nonthreatening as people can get.)

Carefully, Dominique nods.

“Hey Francesca? Can you come out here for a second?”

“Hey guys!” Frankie greets them. “Is it almost time to go out on the dock?”

“We’ll go. I didn’t forget.” Dominique reassures.

“Oh, good. So, what are we doing?” Fran wonders.

“Well, we were wondering, if you could tell us specific stuff about something. I’m a little scared right now,” Jesus admits.

“Me, too,” Dominique mouths, raising her hand a bit.

“Okay. About what?” Francesca asks, pulling up a chair and sitting down at the end of the table, like she’s here to mediate.

Jesus stays quiet, to see if Dominique will feel comfortable speaking up. He pets Dudley to pass the time and to stay present. Better to do that than to look at the cereal box maze.

“So, I asked Jesus something…” Dominique eventually shares, quiet. “Do I have to consent to him asking me something back? To make it fair?” Pause. “I mean, I know the answer usually, it’s just...trauma…”

“I’m gonna draw you guys a picture, okay? Is that okay? A safe picture to explain everything.”

“A safe picture is okay,” Dominique nods.

“Yeah. A safe picture sounds good.” Jesus agrees.

Francesca goes to find paper for a while and Jesus does his best to stay present. Next, Francesca needs to find the colored pencils and can finally start on her picture. When it’s done, she explains it. It’s more a chart than a picture. Jesus listens as she explains, showing Dominique first and talking to her about it quietly.

Jesus can’t hear the explanation, but he does hear when Frankie asks at the end, “Does that make sense, Dominique?”

Dominique responds: “It makes things a lot clearer, yeah. Thank you.”

“Okay, I’m gonna show Jesus now. Francesca walks her drawing over to Jesus:

“See? Consent doesn’t equal ‘have to’.” Francesca explains showing him the line that says Consent = with a line through it, like a No Smoking sign and then have to.

Below that, Fran’s written:

Consent = does it feel safe.

Consent = do I want to.

Consent = choice.

Consent = human stuff.

If it does not feel safe to say no. If it does not feel safe to say you don’t want to. If it does not feel like you have a choice. If you feel like an alien not a human, call me for backup.

Francesca Adams Foster

(619) 568-2281

“Consent is asking ‘does this feel safe to me? Do I want to do the thing?’”

Jesus listens to her, all the while studying the way all the words are written in purple colored pencil. How there are splashes of yellow at every equals sign. A brown sloth hangs from a branch in the top right corner. Francesca’s been obsessed with those since she was six, and first saw the movie Zootopia. Her name is signed at the bottom in green, along with her phone number.

Francesca pauses. “Consent is choice, not have to. Consent is human stuff.” She stops again. Then keeps going reading off her own words about how if he ever feels like an alien he should call her for backup.

“Does that make sense, Jesus?” she asks.

“It does. That’s very clear. Thanks. Hey, can Dominique and I keep this at the table with us? Like a reminder?”

“Sure. And I can stay right here if you guys want. That way, I’ll be ready right away to go out on the dock,” she tells Dominique.

“So, according to this safe picture from Frankie…” Jesus points out. “Consent is a choice. We get to choose to say yes or no to something because we’re humans. So do you feel human right now?” Jesus asks, feeling much more present and like a person. He hopes Dominique does, too.

“Right,” Dominique breathes. “So, I don’t have to agree to answer your question in order to make it fair?” she asks.

“You don’t even have to agree to hear my question, if it doesn’t feel safe for me to ask you.” Jesus reassures.

“What if it’s...like...if I have a question about the question?” Dominique checks.

“I wanna hear it. So I can answer it for you, and you can have whatever info you need.” Jesus insists, gently.

“Is it...because I did something wrong? Or you’re mad about something?” she checks.

“No. You didn’t do anything wrong and I’m not mad. Your question about my drawing just made me think of a question for you, that’s all. A kind of similar question.”

“Oh. That’s fine then,” Dominique nods.

“Fine like fake fine, or fine like safe and you consent?” Frankie checks.

“Fine like safe and I consent,” Dominique smiles a little.

“I was just gonna ask if you’d been able to take any pics while we’ve been here. The nature’s kinda awesome.”

“I actually have. Wanna see them? I can take my phone out and hand it to you,” she offers.

“That’d be cool,” Jesus nods.

While Dominique roots in her pocket, Francesca leans over and whispers to Jesus: “I know the code to her phone…” giggling.

“No, you don’t,” Dominique sing-songs. “I changed it.” She smiles smugly and hands her phone across the table to Jesus.

“Oh, no…” Francesca slaps her forehead, amused and a little let down that she doesn’t have any secret info anymore.

Jesus clicks through her pics.

“Hey,” Mariana greets, pulling out a chair at the other end of the table. “What’s up?”

“Pearl and Levi are talking,” Francesca nods. “And I helped Jesus and Dominique with this really good safe picture, see?” Francesca gets up and walks down to where Mariana’s sitting. Picture in hand.

While Jesus is clicking, he’s also listening. Just like he assumes Dominique is. Because when things get confusing like this? It’s hard to hold something in your head for too long, before it starts to feel like a lie. Because the pull of Before can get super intense.

So Francesca repeating her consent sign to everyone is helping.

“I see Jesus and Dominique’s favorite colors,” Mariana points out.

“And mine. I’m the green!” Francesca insists. “And see Slothy in this corner?”

“I do. He’s just hanging out? Here on your consent picture?” Mariana asks.

“Yup. Because he knows it’s a safe picture so it’s okay to be slow.” Francesca explains.

“Aw,” Mariana grins. “Francesca, you’re a really good artist.”

“Not as good as Jesus…” Francesca points out.

“Hey, babe? When someone compliments you by pointing out your talents? It’s okay to say thank you.” Dominique says.

“But I don’t feel like it’s my talent,” Francesca points out. “So it feels kinda fake. Like the way everybody thinks it’s amazing I can open a door. Or talk.”

“Do you trust me?” Mariana asks.

“Yes,” Francesca nods. No hesitation. It makes Jesus so damn proud to see his sisters able to trust and be there for each other.

“So, part of that, is knowing...that I wouldn’t give you fake praise. Only real praise.”

Francesca’s quiet, working through what she’s just learned. “So...you really mean I’m a good artist? For real? Not just for a kid with CP?”

“For real,” Mariana nods.

“Oh. Okay. Thanks, then,” Francesca smiles.

“You’re welcome.” Mariana nods, motioning her close. She whispers to Francesca and Frankie nods her head yes.

Jesus watches out of the corner of his eye when Mariana gives Frankie’s head a kiss.

#fic: somewhere inside

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magic-and-moonlit-wings · 6 years

Text

Chapter 9: Misleading

Becoming The Mask

Bold and italicized text indicates trollish.

Content warning for this chapter: Toby suspects Mr Strickler of molesting Jim, since Jim's been acting secretive and skittish and spending a lot of time alone with their history teacher. Nothing of that nature is actually occurring, but reading Toby's thoughts may disturb some readers.

We also get a disturbing look at how indoctrinated Jim still is in Gunmar's cult, as he muses on what will become of the trolls he knows post-conquest and considers brainwashing the nice option.

"Is this … safe?" Jim traced the design on the book's cover. "I mean, I've read stories where somebody reads something out loud that they don't understand, and it turns out to be an incantation and they unintentionally cast a spell, with tragic or hilarious results depending on the story genre. Heck, that's practically what I did with the Amulet the first time I summoned the armor."

"Your understanding of trollish is coming along well enough that I don't think we have to fear that, Master Jim," Blinky assured him. "Though if you'd prefer to start with something else, we are spoiled for choice." He gestured around the library with his lower set of arms.

"No, I trust your pick." Jim opened the book and started to read it out loud. "The Ballad of Maddrux the Many and the Battle of Dooms Cavern."

"Doomscavern. One word," Blinky corrected.

Jim read slowly, haltingly, deliberately mispronouncing a word every few sentences. Blinky corrected him every time, and didn't let him move on until he said it properly, but at the end of each verse he offered some praise or encouragement for how well Jim was doing.

Maddrux the Many had been the Trollhunter a few generations ago. According to this poem, he had once fought and defeated an evil version of himself. Jim suspected a Changeling polymorph.

Blinky had decided they should cross over Jim's lessons in trollish language with the history of Trollhunters, beyond what was covered in A Brief Recapitulation, which Jim had recently finished.

The best-documented of the Trollhunters was Kanjigar the Courageous. He had been the most recent, and so stories about him hadn't had as many ages to which they could be lost, and he had lived in Trollmarket, so Blinky himself had been one of the trolls documenting him.

However, Jim had suggested they start with … older books, with stories the average citizen of Trollmarket couldn't just casually tell him – not that he was in the habit of having casual conversations with the local trolls – and focusing on heroes that wouldn't upset Kanjigar's still-grieving son to hear them discussing and occasionally criticizing, if Draal decided to stop by the library – not that Draal was in a habit of doing that.

"And … barricaded him mightily …"

"Bludgeoned, Master Jim." Blinky moved to lean over Jim's shoulder and pointed to the word in question. "The words are very similar, but if you look here, this line is at a shallower angle, which changes the pronunciation of the rune above. Try again."

"And bludgeoned him mightily," Jim re-read in a more confident tone. Blinky smiled at him and patted his back.

AAARRRGGHH seemed to be enjoying the poem, or at least enjoying Blinky teaching Jim. He'd made himself a nest amongst the books and was watching them. Jim thought idly that it might be nice to lean against AAARRRGGHH while reading, and wondered how often Blinky did just that.

Once Jim got through the Ballad – it wasn't actually very long, as troll ballads went, maybe five minutes to recite if he had done so smoothly – Blinky started questioning him on how well he understood what he'd read. It wasn't as intimidating as Spanish class with Señor Uhl, but that was just because he wouldn't have to take a grade home with him. Blinky was every bit as thorough. At least he wasn't making Jim try to translate it while maintaining the meter and rhyme scheme.

"I find myself almost amazed, Master Jim," Blinky told him. "I'd heard that young humans were fast learners, but you've been picking up trollish remarkably quickly since your calling."

"It helps that I already sort of know more than one language," Jim deflected. "I've heard that, you know, that makes the brain more flexible, better able to pick up new ones. I need a water break." Trollish was scratchy to speak with a human throat.

And this was the difference between Blinkous and Dictatious, Jim mused, as Blinky handed him a water bottle. If he'd been so foolish as to say something like that to Dictatious, Dictatious would have … well, probably just hit Jim in the throat or stomach, but if he'd been feeling vindictive, he would have had Jim read the entire book out loud before permitting the Changeling anything to drink.

Jim had falsely displayed moments of weakness a few times in his first few nights at Trollmarket, and been frightened into revealing true vulnerability once or twice, and Blinky and AAARRRGGHH had helped him most of the time. Certainly, sometimes they had followed the method to which Jim was accustomed, of pushing him through the pain to build his endurance, but other times, the trainers had taken care of their Trollhunter.

Blinky had thrown him into the Hero's Forge with little warning, but he's also tried to stop the fight the first time Jim sparred against Draal, and been generous in sharing his knowledge on any subject Jim asked about.

AAARRRGGHH was still big, but not as scary. In the past month, Jim had grown accustomed to his looming, protective presence and tactile gestures of affection.

Gunmar would probably take AAARRRGGHH back for the army. He'd have to use the Decimaar Blade this time, so AAARRRGGHH couldn't desert him again, but at least Jim was fairly certain AAARRRGGHH would live through the invasion.

He squashed down some feelings he didn't want to deal with, about how AAARRRGGHH didn't want to have to fight again and Jim could relate because he didn't like fighting either. This was irrelevant to Gunmar's plans and so it did not matter. AAARRRGGHH would survive. That was good.

Jim didn't have the clout to ask such a favour, especially if he was already petitioning for his mother to be spared, but he hoped Dictatious would have some lingering affection for his brother – even sibling rivalry would do the job – and ask Gunmar to spare Blinky's life, too.

Heck, for all Jim knew, Blinky was already working for Gunmar. After all, the first Trollhunter to be exclusively trained by Blinky had died on his first night out … even if Bular hadn't been able to get the amulet from Unkar.

Blinkous and Dictatious might still be in contact somehow. If there were any Gumm-Gumms besides Bular still on this side of Killahead Bridge, it wasn't like Jim, as a lowly Changeling, would have reason to know about them. They would have gone underground after the first war, literally and metaphorically, to avoid scrutiny from fellow trolls and provide the Underlord with information that Changelings couldn't access.

That could be why Blinky had befriended AAARRRGGHH; to keep an eye or three on the deserter and persuade him to rejoin the winning side.

It seemed unlikely that Blinky was a Gumm-Gumm. AAARRRGGHH would logically have been quite paranoid about falling back into their hands after deserting, and would have been on guard against any suspicious behaviour on Blinky's part. But that might just mean Blinky was a particularly good actor. Like how Stricklander seemed like a kindly, responsible teacher who would do anything for his students, while simultaneously plotting to unleash an army of trolls who would devour most of Arcadia Oaks High School's population within a night.

After the conquest, Blinky would most likely stay a historian, and AAARRRGGHH would go back to the horde. Draal would probably join Gunmar's army, too. Like AAARRRGGHH, he'd need to be converted by Decimaar Blade, but such a powerful fighter would be desirable and worth keeping around.

Bagdwella was a shopkeeper. She was a non-threatening resource for both goods and information right where and as she was.

Vendel would be left alone, as well. The old troll was respected and beloved and, most importantly, established. Leaving Vendel in charge of day-to-day affairs in Trollmarket would save Gunmar time from either dealing with petty matters himself or appointing someone to manage things, and help keep the general population of Trollmarket compliant and less likely to rebel.

Under Gunmar's reign, Jim supposed he'd scarcely see most of the trolls he knew again. Changelings would be used to manage the human livestock, being sun-resilient and all. But it would be nice to know they were still alive.

Jim was very aware of the stone he'd hidden behind the bookcase, keeping Killahead Bridge incomplete.

He would put it back once Stricklander reassured him that his mother would be safe. Each of the trolls down in Trollmarket would be useful to Gunmar. Jim didn't need to bargain for their safety, too. He'd give the stone back and no one would ever know he had taken it.

It was nice to have insurance, though. Nice to know he had time to talk himself out of his panic and worry.

Jim gave Blinky the empty plastic water bottle. Blinky ate it.

"You okay, Jimbo?" Toby asked over lunch. "You've been kinda … I dunno, like you're distracted lately."

"Just tired. Mom's been working a lot and sometimes it's hard to fall asleep when she's not home yet."

"You can always stay with me and Nana if you want. Or I could come over."

Jim made a non-committal noise, and then a thoughtful one.

"Actually, yeah. Not for the whole night, but why don't you guys come for dinner tonight?" It would be nice to have some human company for an evening. "Then we could play board games or something."

Toby watched his best friend all day, trying to be subtle about it. Something had been off about Jim lately, and Tobias didn't buy that it was just Dr Lake's work schedule.

He'd woken up in the middle of the night a few times and noticed Jim's light still on across the street, Jim at his desk with his phone out, filming or photographing something Toby couldn't see. Jim had been sneaking around, texting Toby to ask for an alibi and then brushing him off with vague answers when Toby asked what he was covering for. Jim even dozed off in History once or twice – his favourite subject! Or at least, his favourite teacher.

That was another thing. Jim was visiting Mr Strickler's office a lot. Toby wanted to believe it was innocent – Jim seemed to have latched onto the man as a father figure back when they first started high school – but he was starting to worry that might not be the case.

What was this 'extra-credit project' Jim kept so elusively referencing?

Toby had internet access. He didn't spend a lot of time reading the news, but he wasn't ignorant. When people didn't want to believe something – not our teacher, not to our friend, not in our safe quiet little town – that was how predators got away with stuff. He didn't want to believe his best friend was being molested, but it was definitely a suspicion that had occurred to him, and if it was true then he had to get Jim to admit it so Mr Strickler could get arrested and Jim could get help.

Come on, buddy. I'm your best friend. Talk to me. Trust me.

And even if it wasn't that, there was still definitely something weird going on with Jim.

Maybe he was … acting as a fence for stolen goods? And Mr Strickler was another picket in that fence, and the meetings were to pass things along?

That didn't make a lot of sense, or explain the late night photography sessions – selling stolen goods online? – but Toby didn't exactly have a lot of information to work with.

Jim acted normally all afternoon and evening, up until after dinner. He started looking sharply at the windows and urging the Domzalskis out with half a pan's worth of leftover lasagna.

"What about board games?" Toby asked.

"I'm – I'm actually feeling kind of tired." Jim smiled toothily, pushing lightly at Toby's shoulder. "Might be able to sleep before midnight for once. But only if you two head home. Like, now."

"Jim …" Toby lingered in the door. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

"… Of course, Tobes. That's what best friends are for."

There was a tense moment between them. Toby didn't budge. For once, Jim looked away first.

"Good night, Toby." He gently but firmly shut the door. There was a click from the lock.

"You didn't have to make the fleshbags leave," said Bular, sitting on one of the decorative boulders in Jim's backyard. "I could use a snack."

"I didn't want to draw attention with disappearances," he apologized. "So … to what do I owe this honour?"

"You are going to retrieve something from Trollmarket for me."

Jim cut himself off from saying 'what?', which could be seen as defiance, and instead said, "Of course. What is it?"

"A piece of the Heartstone."

Well, he had done it once … Did Bular know that? Had that prompted this test?

"Yes, Bular."

Toby watched Jim's house from his window. Did it count as a stakeout when he was watching his neighbour from his own bedroom?

Gnome Chompsky provided background music, though it didn't sound like anything from a spy movie. Well, maybe from the scenes with the Obligatory Love Interest. Toby tried not to think about what exactly went on between the gnome and the doll Chompsky liked so much.

An hour after Jim had abruptly sent Toby and Nana back home, Jim was leaving. He didn't sneak out. He walked right out his front door, looking around as though he knew someone was watching him, and walked almost casually down the street.

Toby followed him.

"What are you up to?" he whispered.

He almost lost Jim in the woods. He had to use his cellphone as a flashlight to spot the trail they always took, when they were biking to school and cutting through …

"The canals?"

Toby spotted Jim under the bridge once he reached the canal's edge. He zoomed in with his phone's camera, but the image quality was actually slightly worse than just squinting through the dark.

Jim pulled what looked like a glowing orange knife out of his pants pocket. Toby gasped and clamped a hand over his mouth. Jim traced an arch on the canal wall and pressed his hand to the centre of it. Toby wasn't at a great angle to see where it led, but it opened, and Jim went through.

Toby half-climbed, half-slid down the slope. He got to the archway just as the wall solidified again. He patted the unyielding cement. He tried knocking on it. He tried tracing the shape of an arch with an old, dried-up pen he hadn't thrown out yet, which was the closest thing to a knife he had on him.

He climbed back out of the canal and sat under a tree, watching, waiting for Jim to come out. The canal bed itself felt too open. What if someone other than Jim came out first?

That glowing arch looked magical, or maybe very high tech. What had Jim gotten involved with? A secret society, maybe? This was the bridge where they'd found the weird watch thing. Was that connected?

Toby considered texting Eli about this. But, no. He'd give Jim a chance to explain himself before bringing anyone else into it. Jim might not have trusted Toby, but Toby would offer trust to Jim. Jim had never kept secrets or lied to him before. He had to have a good reason.

About twenty minutes later, the archway opened again. It was not Jim who emerged.

The … creature … was huge, and orange, and nearly naked, and had horns. Toby squeaked in suppressed alarm. It turned and, he thought for one terrifying moment, looked right at him. He froze, willing himself to blend in with the tree.

"… Whatever."

It turned away from Toby and started climbing the other side of the canal.

Toby would talk to Jim in the morning. He couldn't take the chance on more of those things coming out and deciding to exit the canal on his side.

Previous Chapter (Jim steals a piece of Killahead Bridge and has Enrique swapped for Not Enrique)

Table of Contents

Next Chapter (Toby isn’t the only one who thinks Jim is acting odd)

A big spoiler-y thank you to the anonymous tumblr user who wanted to know if Jim would know whether Usurna works for Gunmar in this timeline. The answer is ultimately, "Jim does not report to Usurna, and isn't high-ranking enough to know whether any Gumm-Gumms besides Bular were not trapped in the Darklands, let alone who those trolls were," but thinking that over is what gave me the idea for Jim to suspect Blinky (incorrectly, don't worry!) of working for Gunmar, which fit nicely into the scene I'd written of what Jim thinks will happen to everyone after the Killahead Bridge opens.

And huzzah - two more Changeling Jim stories have been published recently!

You'll never know the freakshow sitting next to you, by awkwardacity, is a dark take and character study on Jim knowing he's a Changeling. [AO3] [FFnet]

Supplanter, by Unstoppable Cyborg (yellowmagicalgirl on tumblr), is based on a comic where Jim still doesn't know he's a Changeling until he happens upon his Familiar's crib while rescuing Enrique in the Darklands.

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incorrectly-quoted-queers · 4 years

Text

Drunk Punch Love 2: Chapter 5

Pairing: FemShep and Garrus Vakarian (Shakarian)

Rating: PG-13 (with some tossed F-bombs)

Summary: Their awkward, badass journey through saving the galaxy and accidentally falling in love

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22089466/chapters/54170929

Part 2- Chapter 5: Biotic Bitches

It was like Joker was trying to kill her. That, or was trying to make her kill everyone else.

Somehow, in his verbal battles with EDI, he'd managed to malfunction the docking port of the Normandy so here they were, trapped in the decontamination bay, waiting for the door to goddamn open.

Anya wouldn't mind it too much, if she wasn't trapped in here with the angriest biotic she'd ever met, Jacob "I don't sleep with subordinates" Taylor, and Barbie Tits herself.

Her bizarre, natural leader charisma normally meant she got along with everyone she ever met, but this new crew really was testing her. Zaeed was always way too sketchy, but otherwise kept to himself. Miranda was always judgmental and prying into her private life. Jacob was too friendly, and even though she was pretty sure it wasn't romantic, it made her uncomfortable. Mordin always rambled in science garble, and while she found it endearing, her soldier brain could barely keep up. The only team-members she really related to were the Odd Couple in the cockpit and the heavily drugged turian in med-bay.

And the new gal, Jack? She was something else. From the second their eyes met, she looked ready to tear Anya's throat out with her teeth.

The dossier made it clear Jack had been through shit, and that the heavy biotic had gripes about Cerberus, but she didn't expect shit to be this bad.

If those doors didn't open soon, she was pretty sure someone was going to crush skulls. It was an awkward day to be the only non-biotic in the room. If she went haywire, she had no barrier to protect her.

Jack was the first to pierce the silence. "I'm working my own damn way through the dumb fact that I'm willingly putting myself on a Cerberus hell-ship, but why in the fuck did you bring your Cerberus operatives, Shepard? You said you read my fucking file, right?"

Tipping her head back, Shepard was kinda hoping it'd roll off. It was preferable to the tense air in here. "I figured bringing a merc to a prison was a bad idea, and our scientist was busy synthesizing something. I apologize for their existence."

"Apology will only be accepted if I get to kill them."

"Absolutely not."

Across from her she could tell Miranda was getting testy. Her body was relatively still, but her arms and legs were crossing, like the more she wound herself up the better shot she'd have of pushing the frustration down.

"Pity. It's kinda badass to rip people in half."

But that seemed enough to push her over. Cutting her blue eyes at Jack, Miranda stood up and said, "Shouldn't you be thankful you're not rotting in that prison cell anymore?"

Anya knew whatever Miranda said wouldn't go over well, but from the way Jack's lips had turned and her face looked like it goddamned curdled, it was worse than expected. "Ah yeah, so fucking thankful to go from a prison that at least knows its bullshit to a prison that's going to try to bullshit me that its not."

"The Normandy's not-"

"The choice was get on your ship or blow the fuck up. Where are the real options there?"

While she wanted to step in between them, she was already pretty over this squabbling the last half hour of the mission. She just wanted to get out of this damn scenario.

But, then she remembered that she was the Commander of this vessel and it wasn't really a choice. No matter how annoying they were being, these three were part of her team now. Made her fucking miss Wrex and Ashley's bickering, because they actually listened to each other, even when they were being assholes. That was a tragic truth to accept, missing Ash's problematic, systematic racism issues. Everyone was prickly here with no remorse.

Just as she leaned forward to tell the two to shut the fuck up, Jacob stood up and tried to walk over to Miranda. "Miri, you're just tired-"

When he got close, she slapped his hand away. "Don't "Miri" me or tell me what I'm feeling. It's none of your business."

Okay, Shepard was generally a romantic idiot, but she understood that kind of exchange. That was the kind where two people once were on "Miri" terms and now they weren't.

Ready to toss a pistol, Anya accepted she couldn't just lean forward. She had to stand. Honestly, she was so over it she even pulled her pistol out of her holster and held it in her fist, hoping to make a point. "Every irritiable biotic in this room, please sit the fuck down and shut up. If you need to work out your issues, we can all do that privately in one-on-one conversations. But bickering like you're about to blow us out of this airlock is unhelpful and slightly too much of a threat for me not to take seriously. So if you'd all like to keep your place on this ship, and you left eyeballs, please keep it together. At least until the door opens."

As if on cue, the metal slid away from each other, revealing a wide-eyed Engineer Donelly. Anya was pretty sure he wasn't liking the sight of everyone standing and her gun out. And there was a fair shot he heard every word of her angry speech. Anya had to admit, she pitied the guy. She didn't want to be forced to deal with them either. Sighing, she holstered and gestured towards the exit. "Great timing. Please all leave."

Miranda and Jacob seemed tense as they walked out, but Anya grabbed Jack's arm as she walked by. The woman jerked her arm away like the Commander was a fucking spider. Rolling her eyes, Anya said, "You come with me. We're heading somewhere particular first."

"What, taking me to the fucking dressing room so that I can get on my cute little Cerberus slacks? You can fuck off if you think you're getting me in a uniform."

"One, those are gross and I wouldn't make anyone wear them. Two, no. We're heading to get you checked up." Shepard was practically speed-walking to the elevator. There were way too many elements she had to handle here, so she needed to get Jack dropped off to deal with a more personal one. One that insisted she didn't like prying.

Jack glared at Shepard ushered them into the elevator. "You do know that just because I was at a prison I wasn't infested with space tics or whatever, right? Asshole wanted to sell me, of course he kept the merchandise in decent condition."

"Stop acting so suspicious. It's just a routine check-up; every newcomer gets it. You're not special." As they walked up to med-bay, Anya added, "But don't worry, I'll make sure that Chakwas gives you an extra dose of genuine human kindness so you really lose your goddamn mind."

Even though she frowned, Jack did look less irritated than before. "I guess that's not totally sinister."

"Thank you. I'll be back in a little while, so don't blow up my med-bay, please."

"Now that you asked, I have to blow it up." Anya didn't have the fucking brain cells to deal with Jack's snark. She just glared and the biotic changed her tune, "Okay fine, I won't."

"Good."

After she watched Jack walk through the door, she caught a peek at the still comatose patient past her. Chakwas said she'd be able to wake up Garrus any day now, with everything all healed.

God, what a fucking story she'd have for him once he finally got up. This ship was a roller coaster. She only picked up a couple dossiers and she already had a bigger team than ever before, and she still had more to recruit.

But his absence wasn't the focus right now, even if it kept her up at night. He'd be back soon enough to keep her sane. Instead, she had a liaison to deal with.

Walking across the crew deck, she knocked on Miranda's door. Anya was pretty over being in her gear and kinda wished she'd stop back in her room for sweats, but honestly this couldn't wait. She might chicken out if she wasn't fuming about it.

Behind the metal, she heard, "Come in." Anya walked through the opening door and Miranda was already at her desk, writing up some report. Damn woman was thorough, she had to admit. And worse, she kinda respected it. Without looking up, Miranda continued, "Shepard, I'd figure you'd come by. For our new recruit I was thinking she could stay-"

"I didn't come here to talk about Jack."

Miranda's fingers stopped whirring around her keyboard and instead she looked up. "You aren't?"

"No." Cracking her knuckles, Anya inhaled and then said it as plainly as she could, "Miranda, what the hell went on between you and Jacob?" The second she asked, Miranda's face managed to pale even more than normal. Bingo. Some shit happened between them at some point. Before Miranda could even open her mouth, Shepard sat down across from her and put her hands together. "And more importantly, after going all "don't compromise the mission for feelings" on me, why did you choose to not share your own personal relationship?"

"Jacob and I aren't together. It's purely professional."

"For you, maybe." She saw that look of heartbreak and longing in Jacob's eyes; at the very least he missed "Miri", whatever the hell happened with them. Anya said, "I'm just saying it's a bit hypocritical and I don't appreciate it. It's not fair to hold me to a higher standard than you do yourself."

Those damned eyebrows furrowed at her as Miranda crossed her arms. Anya didn't want to know how many times she'd have to see that look over the course of the mission. "With all due respect Shepard, I have to hold you to a higher standard. I spent the last two years putting you back together, and we did it so you could save the galaxy. Nothing can get in the way of that mission."

Anya wasn't taking the bullshit. This time, she wasn't fresh off of exhaustion and panic over her best friend. This time, she was Commander motherfucking Shepard and she was sick of the members of this ship running amok. It was time for her to fill the role she was always meant to fill.

Placing her hands on Miranda's desk, she looked directly into those pretty blue eyes and started talking, "That was lovely and condescending, but you said you'd let me do things my way. And you want to know how I did things last mission? By getting personal. That's why my team trusted me so much and how we ended up changing things." On that personal note, Anya was way too aware that staying a stranger to her team wasn't helping things. With a beleaguered sigh, she said, "Also, just please actually work out whatever the hell is going on with Jacob, okay? Because I've received the heart-eyed looks and been the pathetic puppy-eyed person myself, and they both only keep happening if nobody deals with it."

Across from her, Miranda looked suddenly vulnerable, like there was something she wasn't saying here. Remembering there was a difference between Kaidan's persistence and outright stalking, she added, "But if he won't get over himself, I'll kick him off the ship for you. You do need to grow a pair, but if he's just harassing you that's not fair."

When Miranda looked up at her, she looked surprised and a little caught off guard. "T-Thank you, Shepard."

"I hope you know I didn't mean for this to turn supportive. I came in here fully pissed."

"I gathered from the body language." With a laugh, annoyingly perfect as always, Miranda drummed her fingers on her desk like she was running a million files through her head. After a few seconds, she finally seemed to have decided what she wanted to say. "For what it's worth, I am sorry for prying. Maybe I have a hard time trusting people to have the right intentions, so I assume any relationship is a distraction. But that's on me, not you."

Anya nodded, surprised herself with Miranda's candor. "I appreciate the humbleness. You're not quite what I expected from Cerberus, and I still hate your boss' guts, but you're pretty okay."

"I'll take it as a compliment."Raising a single, angular eyebrow, Miranda asked, "Anything else?"

"Good job on not killing Jack. She's... prickly. Don't worry about placing her, I'll figure it out for-" Just then, there was a crash across the hall. Between her rage and panic, Shepard's voice jumped an octave. She swore to God... "For fuck's sake."

Anything going on with Miranda was forgotten. All Anya could think about was Chakwas and Garrus in med-bay with the unstable biotic, and how it was her damn fault she left them alone with her. If she hurt them-

Rushing over to med-bay, Shepard entered and saw an entire shelf thrown into the wall, leaving a sizable dent. Across the room was Chakwas and Jack, one looking a little rattled and Jack just had her arms crossed like a petulant child. She threw her hands up, exasperated. "The hell? I gave you one job."

Chakwas chimed in, "To give her credit, I did ask her to hand me the medi-gel so I could test out how her biotics were they're still adjusting to freedom."

"Christ." Rubbing her temple, Shepard tried to breathe away the anger. Constantly fighting with Jack wasn't going to solve any of the tension, so she needed to calm down. But the fact Garrus' sleeping face was about a foot from the wall dent made "calm" a little hard. "Just be careful. And if you hurt the patient over there, you get the airlock, got it?"

Jack groaned and said, "Fine. Sheesh what stick do you have up your ass?"

"You don't even want to talk about sticks up asses with me." Anya just had to keep her eyes off Garrus and she'd keep her cool. If she thought about him too much, things would get a little messy. And Jack's existence on this ship was already messy.

So, when she got to talking, she was probably a little too loud and aggressive. Fuck it. Gesturing to Jack, she said, "Now get it together, we're going on a goddamned tour of the ship so we can find a suitable room for you!"

"Uh.. Thanks?"

"You're. God. Damn. Welcome." Pausing by the elevator, she said, "But first I have to change my pants and to get this fucking bun gone. This day has been too stressful for either of those things to still be on my body. I need sweats to survive."

"I thought perfect Alliance soldier types didn't do loose hair or sweats."

"Well, that's not me. So get used to it."

Waiting in her doorway, Jack actually had this smirk on, where she looked somewhat pleased, but also annoyed that she felt any interest. To be honest, Anya kinda liked it. The biotic said, "Angry hot Cerberus operatives, disgruntled ex-Alliance heroes, and a surprisingly cool old lady doctor?" Anya changed into her sweats and pulled out her hair. Thank god. Sweet release. Sticking her hands in her pockets she walked them both back to the elevator. Jack gave her a once over, like she was some bizarre, completely alien person. "Maybe this ship won't be the worst thing that's happened to me."

When Anya thought of Garrus, she still wished the big guy was up and keeping her company in the madness. And maybe this wasn't an easy crew to get along with, not like her first one. But there were bright spots, in surprised, awkward liaisons and smirking ex-cons.

Taking a deep breath in, Anya accepted this crew would never be like her old one. They didn't have to be, though. She met Jack's eyes slightly above her and smiled. "You know what? Same."

Now all she needed was Garrus to wake up and she could really get this bizarre new band of misfits going. The "dynamic duo", as Joker called them, would lead this suicide squad in style.

Well, assuming their talk when he woke up went well.

Anya hoped it would.

///

I am so excited to share next chapter! My guys, it is wayyyy too long (as is the chapter after it) but we're about to hit a really exciting turning point in Garrus and Anya's relationship.

Preview: The next chapter is named The Lobsters. I am very proud of that title on many levels haha

Anyway, thank you so much for reading! And extra thanks for participating in my discord and always reading my newest chapters, my fantastic patrons:

Danyell Jones

Amy Connolly

#Drunk Punch Love #Shakarian #Femshep x Garrus #Garrus Vakarian #Anya Shepard #Friends to lovers #Awkward flirting #Team bonding #Jack #Miranda Lawson #Chakwas #Mass Effect Fanfiction

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hazeleyedleto · 7 years

Text

Matters Of The Heart -Part 3-

You’re singing Joyride by Roxette into your round hairbrush while rocking out with your music on full blast, taking advantage of a rare Saturday off to give your apartment a much needed, thorough cleaning that you’d been able to manage in quite a while. It’s not like there were dishes growing mold stuffed under your bed or couch cushions, but most of your wardrobe did happen to be laying all over your furniture in every room, with half of your bedroom floor acting as a laundry hamper, the actual white one in the corner spilling over. Saying that you’d been insanely busy lately is a very big understatement.

Your phone dinging with a new notification spoils the moment, disturbing you from the best part of the song, and you roll your eyes while tossing the brush into it’s proper drawer. Mumbling, “It better be good”, you take the few steps to your phone and picked up, clicking on the video, watching in amusement as Tomo records Jared skateboarding down the railing of a stairwell. It looks all good and well until his feet slip from the board and he lands on his crotch on the railing, does a complete flip, and lands on the pavement on his back with a loud thud. There’s complete silence for a few seconds before Jared sticks his thumb up in the air and yells, “I’m okay”. Tomo and Shannon can be heard laughing their asses off in the background, before Shannon walks in front of the camera with the skateboard exclaiming that it’s his turn.

"Fucking idiots", you chuckle and set your phone back on the counter, turning around to get started on the bathroom closet. You refold the towels and washcloths, arranging them all back into a neat pile before removing the contents of the second shelf, where a weird feeling begins stirring in the pit of your stomach. You look at the box of tampons and sanitary napkins while chewing on your thumb nail, unable to recall the last time you needed to use those feminine products. Fear grips at your chest so tightly you forget to breathe for a minute, and you end up backing into the wall where your mind starts to put together pieces of a wayward puzzle.

Small changes you’ve been noticing begin to make sense, like the almost ever present upset stomach you’ve been experiencing, but chalked up to an acid issue, figuring you’d been consuming too much caffeine. Flying back and forth from Los Angeles to San Francisco three times a week to help your boss set up the new art gallery was stealing a lot of your energy. Of course, you’d gained some weight, but then again you had binged on ice cream for those couple of weeks, and these days you’re not exactly taking the time to eat properly. A lot of your meals consist of whatever you can get your hands on first, mainly chips, cookies, pretzels, and things like that from a vending machine. There was also your mood swings, to which you assumed were from the lack of sleep combined with the uncertainty of how your relationship with Shannon would change once he was married.

Looking down to your tummy, a wave of relief washes over you at not noticing it being any bigger, but there’s still a nagging feeling in the back of your mind and you have to know what’s going on. Neglecting the rest of your cleaning spree, you head out to the closest pharmacy, returning in twenty minutes.

An agonizing one hundred and twenty seconds pass while you pace the bathroom floor, silently debating the presence of God to yourself. Your family had never been religious, but at this point you start praying to some higher being for insight, along with negative results on the pregnancy test. It’s not like you don’t want kids someday, but you’ve been through enough lately, and someone surely needs to have mercy on you, right?

The alarm goes off, letting you know it’s time to check the white stick sitting on the counter next to the toilet, nearly giving you a stroke. With apprehension, you advance to the test, where your eyes widen at the bright pink plus sign staring back at you. All strength seems to disappear from your legs and you plummet to the bathroom floor, shock beginning to settle in.

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

As if being knocked up by your best friend who’s engaged, and keeping it to yourself for several weeks while you weigh your options wasn’t enough, last night at the rehearsal dinner for the wedding, you watched Shannon and Emma together. She had never been anything but nice to you, had never done anything to Shannon to make him question his relationship with her, and he seemed filled with joy when he was in her presence. So, why did you develop a rapid dislike for your best friend’s fiance, and get irritated everytime she touched him? Each time she laughed, he smiled and his eyes twinkled. It was as if he lived for her. Cheerfulness hung in the air around them, and there wasn’t a single reason in the world for you to detest Emma, but here you were, wishing she and Shannon had never met.

It dawned on you, hitting you like a ton of bricks while you watched them together the previous night, that you’re in love with Shannon, and Emma was getting the future you yearned for. Shannon was truly happy though, and you couldn’t wish anything more than that for him. Pushing your own desires to the side, you formulated a plan, finally coming to a decision about what to do with the shit show that had been tossed at you within the past three months.

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

It’s the next day, the afternoon of the wedding where you take a few extra minutes sitting in the car you rented for the day, giving yourself a pep talk and gathering your courage before going into the church. You’re strong. You’ve got this. Two hours, tops, Monique. Just get yourself through it and then you can fall apart all you want.

After giving your appearance one last check over in the mirror and not coming up with any more excuses to procrastinate, you get out and go inside. Jared smiles upon seeing you enter. “You look good, Monique.” You accept his kiss on your cheek and follow him to where the groom and groomsmen are gathered.

"And just who is this handsome stranger?“, you try to keep the mood light and playful, after taking special recognition in just how good Shannon looks in his tuxedo.

"Only the best friend to this stunning lady”, he kids back.

Out of nowhere you’re hit with a whirlwind of emotions, sadness being the most prominent, forcing you to close your eyes while clenching your teeth together, waiting for the sudden unwelcome tears to pass. When you open them, it’s to three curious onlookers. You fan your face with your hand, somewhat embarrassed and swipe at your cheeks. “Sorry, guys. I don’t mean to act like such a girl.”

Jared comes to your side and rubs your back comfortingly, while Tomo claps a hand on your shoulder. “I think weddings make everybody cry”, he pipes in with his two cents.

"It’s not everyday that my best friend is getting married", you smile weakly at Shannon, knowing that this is one of the last interactions you’re ever going to have with him. A couple more wet drops trickle from the corners of your eyes and you brush them away quickly. “I’m just really happy for you”, you press your lips together and pause before continuing, trying to keep your shit together. “You’re going to have an amazing life with Emma, and that’s all I can wish for someone as incredible as you.”

In a few steps, Shannon’s in front of you, enveloping you in a bear hug. “Things won’t change. I promise I’ll still be here for you no matter what”. You squeeze him tighter with guilt before stepping away, knowing that if he was aware of what you were keeping from him, he would be quick to take back those words. He looks down at you, raising an eyebrow. “Are you alright, Mo? You’re pretty shaky.” You didn’t even realize that until he pointed it out. Your hands are definitely trembling.

You assure him with a smile so fake that you’re sure you’d have a good chance at winning an Oscar for, even though you’ve never been an actress. “Yeah. Just kinda nervous. You know, being up in front of people isn’t really my thing.” For one, the purple bridesmaid dress that you’re wearing isn’t your normal type; being strapless and skin tight, so you’re not feeling all that confident. Then, paranoia has been rearing it’s ugly head since you’ve arrived, terrifying you that someone will notice your slowly growing baby bump. And last but not least of course, you sincerely don’t like standing out at social events, even though Shannon and Emma are guaranteed to be the center of attention, and not you; but there’s not much solace in that fact.

"YOU’RE nervous?!“, Shannon jokes.

Before any more conversation can be had, one of the ushers comes in, announcing that it’s time to get things started.

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

By some miracle, you made it through the ceremony, where your heart shattered into a million pieces as the priest pronounced them husband and wife, and Shannon was told to kiss his bride. As much as it hurt, a little part of you needed to see it with your own eyes to confirm that your plan was the right decision.

After the second worst part was over, it didn’t seem to take nearly as long for the wedding photographer to take pictures, but maybe that’s because you were lost in your thoughts at what would take place later.

Once everyone in the wedding party is dismissed and given an hour to meet back up for the reception, you give Shannon one last glance before climbing in your rental car, letting the sight of his head hanging back, eyes crinkling at the edges, and his mouth opened wide in laughter be your last memory of him.

You drive back to the car rental place, exchanging theirs for yours, which is stuffed full of your personal belongings. Bittersweet tears cascade down your face as you repeatedly slam your heel down on the screen of your cell phone, not stopping until there are thousands of fragments and shards of glass littering the parking lot.

Satisfied that you’ve cut off all ties of communication with your old friends, you slide in behind the steering wheel and start the ignition, ready to get started on your new life.

oh my poor heart

why

she can stay

Buttercup can be the baby daddy

Noo Shan’s gunna crai

noo

*Sads*

@fyeahproudglambert

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rogue-bard · 7 years

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(1/2) My grandma has five birds (two Cockatoos, three African Greys). She keeps them in their cages 24/7 in the sunroom by the kitchen. I don't know how fragile bird respiratory systems are, but feathers/dust/ammonia are everywhere in there and I'm sure it's not good. Their water hardly gets changed- when it does it's gotten to the point of being brown with food/newspaper/feathers in it. They eat food that is really bad for them (high in sugar and probably sodium).

(2/2) The toys only get replaced when they’re years old and worn down to the point of being pieces. The birds never get attention, they’re never out of their cages, and they don’t have any stimulation except for the TV (what?). I don’t know how to help them because my grandparents and my siblings/I aren’t on good terms at the moment.

Golly, this turned out to be a looooong answer, so let me but a read-more here…

Now, you probably know this first bit, since you’re writing this ask in the first place, but just for the sake of being a bit more thorough, in case any uninformed bird-owner reads this and maybe has an epiphany:

(Let me just note that all sources I link here are pages that I just quickly googled, so I can’t judge their professionalism. However, the issues that I sourced with these links, are issues I know about from my avian vet and that can easily be found on the internet thousands of times. So I assume they’re somewhat current when it comes to our state of avian medic knowledge.)

Birds’ respiratory systems are not the sturdiest, as far as I know. Ammonia is definitely bad for them, and being kept near the kitchen isn’t great, either, as stuff like teflon being heated can be deadly to them.

The thing about the feathers and the dust, is that they are very bad for humans (but you’re right that too much isn’t good for birds, either!), as a family member of mine had to experience, and has to experience for the rest of her life.So maybe if your grandmother doesn’t have too much concern for the birds, as I sadly often find in older generations, maybe that will give her cause to think about the situation.

I obviously don’t have to tell you that the water situation is horrible, but it’s also less than ideal that these birds have access to newspaper (I assume as flooring of the cage). Now, I don’t know where you’re from and what the newspapers there are printed with, so the print might be toxic in high doses. However, google is telling me, that this shouldn’t be a problem anymore nowadays, and the last time I heard about that was during my childhood when my grandfather was breeding budgies, so that might be completely outdated.On the other hand, birds like to have litter (idk if that’s the right english word… bed? bedding?) to play in, and it has the additional benefit of soaking up fluids like spilled bathing water and poop, so that is more hygenic for both the birds and your grandmother’s lung.However, I’m not tooooo sure about this, since I can’t find any sources on the internet right now and this page even claims that paper is the better choice in these regards. I’m far from an expert, I just go by what my vet told me, which is the “litter”-kind of bedding (chipped wood for birds).

As for food - yeah. That’s not good either.

Being always kept in a cage isn’t… always… bad… and I hesitated a lot to write this. I think in my whole life I’ve seen two or three aviaries that are big enough for birds to exclusively live in. That cage would have to be huge, especially for so many birds.For african greys, apparently, that is more than 60x90x120 cm if these sources can be believed. Note that these pages do not say if that’s for one bird or a pair. I’ve never had african greys, so I don’t know if that size doesn’t almost double if you keep two of them (which, I assume since it goes for most birds, is a requirement because they are social animals).For cockatoos, I found the same size-requirements on the internet, right now. It bugs me a bit, because it seems pretty tiny for such huge birds. I own parrotlets and that’s pretty much their requirements. And they’re tiny tiny birds. But again: I’m not an expert.

And lastly, the toy and stimulation situation. At least they’re together, that’s a plus. But of course, having nothing to do and sitting in a cage all day, would make anyone depressed and develop bad behavioural patterns. I’ve seen an african grey go completely apathetic, I’ve seen one non-stop-spinning around it’s own axis for days, I’ve seen a lot of shit. It can get really bad.That isn’t to say that if a bird doesn’t exhibit these problem, it’s fine. I’m just saying, that’s how bad it can get. (What I’m trying to say is, just because hitting a child regularly is not as bad as beating it dead, a child that is being hit daily is far from fine.)There’s a lot of blogs about building foraging toys yourself, there’s a lot of places where you can buy them, and there’s a lot of guides on how to train a parrot, like you would train dogs, to give them something to do and exercise their brain and motorabilities. And as a plus, you have a bird that doesn’t do annoying behaviour (like land on posters *I’m not looking at you, Mealey, but I’m looking at you), and can do cool tricks! It’s a win-win!

Okay, tl,dr… now what you were actually asking. (Sorry, I’m like my old maths professor. You come to him to ask him about polynomial division and he starts by explaining you the complete probability theory…)

If you or someone you know is still visiting your grandparents now and then (maybe your parent that is their child?), you could maybe bring the birds new foraging toys, so they have at least stimulation. However, I think that’s the least of their problem. It’s something easy to do, though, and I don’t see what your grandmother could possibly have against new toys if they’re already there and she doesn’t have to do anything with them.

Of course, they could also change the water, while they’re at it, and maybe sneak in some actual parrot food for greys and cockatoos, and throw the sugar-stuff away. That’s assuming that they’re visiting daily, though.If they’re not, changing the food might still be an option, as with the toys: If they already bring it to your grandmother, and it’s paid for, I don’t see why she would have a problem with it, if someone explains to her that it’s healthier for the birds.

For the water, I have heard tale that water dispensers (they look something like this or this) keep the water “fresher” since there would be no poop/food/newpaper in it. It’s still important to change it everyday, but it might improve the situation a lot.(Please don’t buy the dispensers off the internet, except it’s a site that you trust and that says it’s specially for parrots. I’ve heard horror stories of lead-poisoning and whatnot from toys, water dispensers and food bowels from dubious sources. Go to a pet store and make sure the materials are listed on the packaging, and that they are safe materials!Please also make sure that they’re the right size for your birds. My parrotlets wouldn’t be able to drink from the dispensers that looks like the one bunnies have, and if the second type is too small for a bird’s beak, it obviously can’t drink from it either…)

The most obvious advice, of course, is to talk to your grandma or have someone who has a better relationship to her, talk to her about it. Maybe they can go to an avian vet with her (make an appointment for a consultation, the vet is probably just as happy to prevent further mistreatment as he’d be to treat it), and have a conversation about how to keep parrots, because if it’s coming from an authority on the field, it’s probably not brushed aside as easily as if it’s a family member.

And lastly, if the whole situation is too bad, and if nothing can be done about it, call animal protection.It’s harsh, but if it were a child, we’d call child protection too. They’re living beings, they feel pain, they feel suffer from illness, mental disorders and everything we do too, and they are even more helpless than a child that can talk (and a child is already absolutely helpless, don’t get me wrong).Maybe, your grandmother doesn’t even want them around anymore. African greys and cockatoos get so old, who knows how long she’s had them? Maybe she changed her mind, maybe the responsibility has gotten to much, and she’s relieved to have them out of the house (also a thing someone should talk to her about, probably). Recently, someone called animal protection for the dog of our neighbours (wasn’t us; to our knowledge, that dog was treated fine, and I still kinda believe that since I’ve never had any reason to believe otherwise, when I saw him), and apparently/allegedly, instead of proving (or even trying to) that the dog is being treated right, they just let them take him, because they were looking to sell him anyway. Maybe it’s kinda the same situation for your grandmother…

I hope that helped and I hope that big wall of text didn’t overwhelm you!

Lastly: Again again, I’m absolutely no expert on bird keeping. I have two parrotlets, that’s all. So if anyone reads this and knows something I wrote to be false, please reblog or message me to let me know (preferably with sources so I know you’re not a troll) so I can change it!

#birds #parrots #Anonymous #asks #answers

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