#idk. i just had to get this out ther

[sukugo]

got COCKBLOCKED in my own HOUSE (both literally and figuratively 🤔)

[thisgodwontforgiveyou]

my most major criticism of re2 remake i think is really how ada is handled not just bc im an ada akgae but because it removes a lot of atmosphere like the sensation in the original is that there are dozens of guys constantly unseen moving through the city doing shady shit running into each other in remake it feels so much more videogamey and isolated

[rcdiostcrs]

you know what, i don't wanna do formal intro posts (i will…… eventually). meet the new pjo kids. like this & i'll come to your dms for plots. click their name to be redirected to their pinterest board for a vibe check.

ceader oliver simmons.

son of cupid. 26 y/o. retired legionnaire, finished his tenure four years ago. name was misspelled on the birth certificate. homeschooled since birth by a crunchy mom. now a silky bitch. anger issues of a mars kid.

cyrene kelsey kamel.

daughter of khonshu's avatar. 22 y/o. legionnaire in her fifth year of service. college athlete: hockey player at iowa univeristy. died at 6 y/o but was brought back by thanatos & osiris. also has the anger issues of a mars kid.

garnett noëlle alaska.

daughter of skadi. 22 y/o. legionnaire in her second year of service. college athlete: figure skater at iowa univeristy. immune to the cold. super sweet & super lazy. shortens her middle name to masculine spelling.

spencer stetson sanders.

son of athena. 25 y/o. goes by his middle name. montanan cowboy. former chess champion. co-parent to a 6 y/o named savvy w/ his ex-gf. need a conversation starter, mention his daughter.

[theyarebothgunshot]

.

[lesbianstarlightglimmer]

Night

[illyabata]

scars are A Thing™ with wriothesley and nobody can convince me otherwise, idc if there is zero mention of his scars or their meaning when he comes out idc it’s my permanent headcanon that scars and their stories are simply entangled with his character idc

so now i give you: wriothesley who is fascinated by your scars

tw: discussion of scars lol, but in no way do i indicate their origin unless it’s stretch marks. however if talk of scars at all is triggering to you, dont read!! it’s sweet fluffy stuff, but that doesn’t matter if it will trigger you. please take care :)

sfw, big brainrot under cut

theyre so much smaller than his, more delicate, just like you. doesnt matter if compared to other people you are big or tall, he’s such a big guy that he makes you feel small no matter your size or height. and no matter what your scars look like to you, to him they are beautiful. to him they are delicate.

he’s enamored by all of your scars no matter their origin—stretch marks, however, seem to intrigue him the most of all. he’s absolutely transfixed by them, and you can never understand why. he’s simply mesmerized by the way the blemished skin stretches as he thumbs and presses it, watching the discoloration flatten itself only to bloat back when he leaves it alone. for some reason he just seems so puzzled by the concept of natural scarring of the body; nothing had happened to harm you for these to appear—they’re simply the product of change, your skin either going through rapid periods of expanding or shrinking. he thinks they’re pretty.

he’d spend so long just running his rough fingers over your skin, absorbed in the feeling of the puckered tissue under his own blemished hands. whether the scars are stretch marks or from something else, he loves them, he loves you.

this might sound weird but i just like to imagine you both spend time gently tracing each others’ scars as comfort, like it sounds weird in words but it makes sense i promise. there is something intimate and fascinating about scars, no matter what they’re from; it’s truly like the language of your body’s history, a record of what has occurred. you can resent them or be proud of them, it really depends on the person and situation—but regardless, scars are always a record, and that is a constant no matter the person.

and if you’re not comfortable with that level of touch or that much attention on your scars, that is absolutely okay. he’s not going to make you uncomfortable, he’ll always ask if it’s okay before he looks at or touches them—or touches you at all, really. he never wants to hurt you. and if you say you’d rather he not touch your scars, he’ll understand and just show you he loves you—all of you—in some other way.

like idk about anyone else or if its just me and im fucking insane but sometimes i get lost looking at my own scars; sometimes the human body at work is just kind of fascinating to watch, and even more so in retrospect. it’s like holy fuck you’re looking at its handiwork, you can plainly see how the skin has been so masterfully rebuilt into this little woven bandaid of cells, carefully crafted to not only rebuild but protect. your body has looked after itself, and it will continue to do so. and thats just kind of a fascinating thing to me idk😭

some extra thoughts about scars, not really to do with wrio; red brackets will indicate the end of it if you want to skip: [[ it usually replaces any feeling of disgust i have because instead of focusing on the bad feeling of remembering where they came from or being sad at the way they look im able to think about how cool it is the way my body recovered and made my skin even stronger; it didnt just wipe it all away and give me a clean slate so i could forget, it pieced the cells together again bit by bit until it had not only replaced the wound but enforced it—so instead of forgetting the bad feelings, they were replaced by wonder. sort of like a sign that says “proof that where once there was pain, now there is strength”. it’s kind of like how they say you don’t just try to quit bad habits, you must replace the bad habit with a good one. you can replace the bad feelings associated with your scars with new feelings, whether they are good feelings or neutral feelings or meh feelings. ]]

before you, he understood scars to be an ugly thing—a source of shame, a show for others to marvel at if he left them uncovered, for them to ogle at and whisper about as if trying to guess the origin of the wounds was a sort of entertainment to them. and then in the fortress of meropide, his scars felt much less like a source of shame and more like an intimidation factor (which wasn’t something he necessarily felt good about, but it was something that he benefitted from as the duke). but when you came along and he began to know you, suddenly they were this beautiful, fascinating phenomenon that lead him to view his own scars in a different light.

he’s a powerful, strong man, yes. he’s intimidating and feared, but he is also loved, and all for good reason—he is solid and safe, an image of reliability to others. and sometimes it could weigh him down when he couldn’t seem to let another help carry the burden.

the way you made him feel, though, tracing his big ugly scars like they were rivers, like they weren’t repulsive—it changed him entirely, and it changed the way he saw himself. in the overworld, he was a criminal brute slathered in the proof of his savageness. in the fortress, he was the rock-solid standard for redemption, and he had to uphold his firm reputation. but with you, he was able to be fragile; with you, the walls he had built to protect himself from both sides of fontaine’s society came tumbling down, because he didn’t have to pretend when he was with you.

if such a small, sweet thing like you could see him in such a kind light with so much love in those eyes of yours, perhaps he was not so bad after all.

everyone else in all of teyvat could believe he was truly a bad guy like he sometimes enjoyed playing at—but it wouldn’t matter, because there you were in his bed every night, held fast in his big arms as you mindlessly traced the long, thin writings engraved in his skin, letting the stories they told lull you to sleep.

[yorshie]

Heyy idk if you've already done it but can I request clothes that the bayverse boys just love seeing you in? Like besides lingerie (though who doesn't like a cute lingerie) I mean like more mundanish things. A certain pair of shorts/pants/skirt, a certain dress or top, a certain color of clothing. Something along those lines, yk?

Maybe it accentuates a certain part of your body, maybe he just thinks it looks cute. Idk. It doesn't necessarily turn him on (although... hehe) He just can't tear his eyes away/stop stealing glances the second he sees it, and you just know he's getting extra flustered if you catch him gawking 🤭

Hey Nonnie! Thank you for sending this in, I had a lot of fun imagining what each one of the turtles would like- I even asked some other writers what their thoughts were because it was such a fun ask!

The ask I sent to another writer - oops forgot to add this so the context makes sense lol

Donatello

DonBon gets flustered whenever he sees you in his color. He’s not partial to a particular way of dress in the grand scheme of things, as long as it’s some shade of purple, you’ve got his attention. But the thing that would really draw him to a complete stop, is glasses. Even if you donned a lens free pair, he’s going to stop and do a double glance, taken by the way the frames bring attention to your eyes. If you coupled the glasses with a purple shirt or an oversized hoodie, he’s going to go out of his way to get his hands on the material, though don’t be fooled, his real goal is studying you. 

Raph

Raphie’s weakness is anything feminine. If it's floofy and a more "girlie" color, he's all on board. While he does love seeing you in his color, the one time you managed to get him to walk head first into a door because he wasn’t paying attention was while wearing a pastel skirt with a petticoat underneath. He likes the way the fabric swishes when you walk, likes how he gets a peek at thighs and calves when you move. He’s an absolute sucker for embroidered patterns and soft fabrics that give him an excuse to study the way your clothes drape and fall on your figure.

Mikey

Angelo likes your comfy clothes. He loves matching PJ sets and lounge wear, the kind that lets him catch a glimpse of your stomach when you raise your hands up over your head, whose sleeves you have to either constantly push up or the tanks that leave your shoulders bare. He’s going to get possessive if it’s any shade of orange, but he’s not too picky. If it’s your favorite, it’s his favorite by proxy, and he revels in the fact that you’re feeling good enough to be comfortable around him. Bonus points if he gets to feel how soft and well worn the fabric is during cuddling.

Leo

Blue likes it when you dress up, likes silk and velvet and tactile fabric that clings to you, loves it when you wear dresses and blouses. If it’s his color, from the darkest navy to a light robin’s egg blue, he’s going to make it a point to inform you how beautiful you look, going to use the praise as cover to rest his hand low on your back. If you’ve dressed up especially for him, he’s not going to even try and hide the way he’s got his eyes on you. Splinter finds it amusing that even his voice can’t shake his eldest out of his thoughts when his attention is centered on you.

All Four

Alright, listen, this Is probably the part that’s a little more risqué than the rest of these, but those that know, will understand what I’m talking about. 

There’s a certain type of nightgown, modest in itself, that usually has a scoop collar and hits somewhere around the mid thigh length. It can be a lighter, warm weather fabric that floats around you, or a denser, winter weave that clings more to trap heat. Patterned, or solid color, it doesn’t matter, but everyone that has one of these knows exactly what I’m talking about. There is no faster way to make a man sit up and pay attention, then to wear it, and the turtles are no exception. It’s not sexy, at least not by today’s standards, but there’s just something about it that draws their eyes and will have them following after you.

[writerslittlelibrary]

I don't wanna lose you

picture credits: @akutlou

masterlist

summary: ever since a smuggler got the job to smuggle you across the country to a group called the fireflies, you started to realise how much family you could have if only you let people in (Abby isn't a Firefly so she never kills Joel)

pairing: Abby Anderson x fem reader

warnings: guns, clickers, talk of death, weed, murder? idk it's an apocalypse fic 

genre: fluff, angst

words: 2834

a/n: This is basically just reader being Ellie. If you read my other tlou x mcu fic, some parts may be a bit the same, but I promise this story is different :)

I've decided to make this an au, so that I can write future Abby x reader with the same backstory. besides, I enjoy connecting fics 

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

 |——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

Joel wasn't very happy when he learned he would be smuggling a fifteen year old girl across the country. However, the pay couldn't be denied, and his partner, Tess, wanted to get paid.

After taking on the job, and after losing Tess, Joel soon realised the girl he was smuggling was slowly healing him. He hated it. He hated the feeling of erasing his daughter. Of replacing her. And so, he pushed the girl away. He pretended as though he hated her, never starting an actual conversation and pretending to hate her talking.

The truth, however, was quite different. What Joel hated the most, was the fact that this new girl was making him fearful. Making him scared of losing another daughter. Making him fear the fact that he may not be able to protect this girl, that he may fail her, just like he failed his daughter. 

After some time, the girl grew on him. He started openly enjoying her conversation, and her endless talking. He started receiving her hugs, and enjoying the warm feeling that seemed to heal his wounds on the inside.

But then, both Joel and the girl arrived at the hospital. 

The destination you both fought so hard to get to. This was all that Joel was supposed to do. Drop you off with the Fireflies, and get the hell out of there. 

Yet, when it was time, he couldn't. What would you do after travelling across the entire country with a girl? Travelling for almost an entire year? Could you give her up? 

One thing was certain. Joel couldn't, and he wouldn't.

Killing the entire hospital had been easy. He had the motivation to save you, and that was all that he needed. Killing the people that were trying to hurt you was easy. You needed to survive, and he would make sure you did.

The lying was what was difficult. 

Joel lied to you. He promised you that there was no cure, that you weren't of any use to them. You believed him. Or rather, you wanted to believe him. Somewhere, deep down, you knew the truth. You knew Joel was lying, but you didn't let him know. You wanted to believe him, and so you did. 

Now things were different. You had gone back to Jackson. Together with Joel you decided that living with Tommy would be best, so you went back. 

Things were good. You were good. You like hanging out with the other kids around Jackson, and you liked having family. You enjoyed how Tommy, Maria and Joel all cared for you. They were the only ones that knew your secret, and they were your family now. 

You had never experienced something like this before. You had never had any family, and now you suddenly had a whole town. 

However, after about a year, things went bad.

You ran away from Jackson, stealing your horse from the stables and returning to the Firefly hospital. You needed to know the truth. You need to be sure. You knew Joel was lying, but you needed proof.

After finding it, you had gotten mad. Joel had lied to you, actually lied to you. 

Joel had come to look for you, taking a horse as well and following you. He knew where you would go, and when he did find you, you forced him to tell you the truth. He did, and after doing so, you broke down. 

You weren't mad that Joel saved your life. You weren't mad that there was no cure. If there was a possibility of a cure being made, you knew a group like the Fireflies shouldn't be the ones to possess it. They would use it for bad things. They would manipulate people and use the cure as a way of making other people do their bidding. 

No. You were mad that Joel lied. 

The truth was something you could handle, but the fact that the most important person in your life lied about something so big, something so important. That was what pissed you off. 

However, it didn't take long before you forgave Joel.

You might have been mad, but you weren't unreasonable. You loved Joel, and you knew he loved you. Why else would he have killed almost the entirety of the Fireflies?

Now you lived with him, or at least, in his garage. He lived in the house, and he had helped you turn the garage into a livable room. He helped you decorate it, and together with Tommy he dragged the couch and the bed in. 

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

Today you went out on patrol. Jesse assigned you and Dina to check out the creek trails. You had never done that route before, so you followed along as Dina showed you everything you needed to know about this route. 

“So what's going on between you and Jesse?” you asked Dina as you two rode along the creek trails, shielding your face slightly due to the snow.

“That's what you wanna talk about?!” Dina replied smugly, to which you shrugged.

“I dunno. It seemed kinda awkward this morning,” you continued, and yohearsdd Dina chuckle a bit. 

“I don't know if I'm still into Jesse. I mean, his parents are nice, but me and him were just on autopilot. I'm not sure I liked that,” Dina explained, pulling her horse to a stop.

“We should check out these houses. Infected roam through this area once in a while,” Dina said, getting off her horse and reaching for her gun. 

You followed her example, getting off your horse and grabbing your gun. After making sure it was loaded, you entered the first house, Dina following closely. 

“So what are you doing tonight?” Dina asked after deeming the house was clear. 

“I was gonna watch a movie with Joel, why?” you responded, checking a few of the drawers in hope of there being supplies.

“Some kids were talking about sneaking out to go sledding. I thought maybe you'd wanna join.”

You chuckled. “Sounds fun, but maybe another time,” you said as you walked back to your horse. 

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

After riding for about another hour, you arrived at a supermarket. It was clear there were infected inside, and you were on patrol after all. 

After clearing the building you went back outside, but soon realised the storm had heavily picked up. You ran to your horse and followed Dina as she guided you to another look-out. You could rest there and wait out the storm. 

You and Dina got settled after finding the weed downstairs. 

You knew Eugene was a funny guy, but never had you expected this. You and Dina decided to smoke one of the joints while waiting, but were soon interrupted when Jesse ran into the room.

“What are you doing here?!” Jesse asked in surprise. “You're supposed to be on patrol,” he finished unimpressed.

“There's a blizzard outside…?” you replied in confusion.

“Why aren't you at the fucking look-out?” Dina asked Jesse, who got a look on his face that you did not appreciate. 

“Because Tommy and Joel didn't show up!” 

“What…?” you asked hurriedly, suddenly very alert. The weed cleared quickly from your system. The relaxing effects immediately leaving after hearing what Jesse said.

“What do you mean they didn't show up?” 

“We waited for them for an hour,” Jesse explains. 

“How much of their region have you covered?” you asked quickly, putting your jacket back on and grabbing your backpack. 

“We don't know what's out there. I don't like you riding solo,” Jesse quickly replied, which you interrupted.

“Exactly. What if they need help?”

Jesse sighed. “Okay, I will come from the east, Dina you come from west, and you come from south but be smart about it,” he told you.

You nodded and quickly made your way towards the exit.

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

It only took you a few hours before you found Joel. Him and Tommy were waiting out the storm at a mansion only a few hours' ride from Jackson. They were there with another group. 

Apparently, Tommy and Joel had been caught off guard by a group infected. While they were running away from them, they ran into a girl. They helped her while she was being attacked by some runners, killing them and helping her run.

After they got locked into the look-out while the infected were trying to break the doors down, the girl, Abby, had told them about the mansion she and her friends were staying in.

Tommy and Joel brought Abby there, and they were allowed to wait out the storm with them. 

However, you didn't know that yet. and so, you went around the house, climbing over a fence and making your way inside quickly. 

You had your gun raised as you heard chatter coming from a room inside the house. You carefully checked each room, making sure you didn't miss anything or anyone as you tried to find the source of the chatter. 

You then arrived in something that looked like the living room. There was a fire going and you could feel the heat from the room

You could also hear a lot of chatter, which quickly made you realise that whoever these people were, they were with a lot. You raised your gun, loading it while entering the room. However, what you saw wasn't exactly what you expected. 

Joel was there, and he was chatting with Tommy and the other people in the room.

“Joel?!” you asked out of relief, walking further into the room.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” Joel asked surprised, getting up from his seat and embracing you in his arms when you went to hug him.

“You guys never showed up at the look-out. I thought you fucking died,” you replied, hitting him on the arm. 

Joel chuckled. “I'm not gonna die. The storm caught us off guard, and the look-out was swarmed with infected. We just needed another place to wait out the storm,” he explained. 

“Let's hope Jesse and Dina find us soon, and let's hope they didn't run into the herd that you tried avoiding,” you sighed in annoyance, allowing Joel to push your shoulders. 

“I gotta get Shimmer. I left her outside,” you explained, and Joel nodded.

“Go to the front, we'll open the gate for ya,” Tommy said as he got up. Another guy got up as well, and he followed Tommy to the gate. 

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

After getting Shimmer inside and everything being settled, you sat down next to Joel, Tommy sitting on the other side of you. 

“So who are you?” asked one of the guys from the group. He looked to be Spanish, and he couldn't have been older than 25. 

“I'm y/n,” you replied. “What about you?” 

The guy, Manny, introduced himself and the others, telling you they came from Seattle and were just passing through. After talking with the group for a while, Jesse and Dina found you as well. That’s when you returned to Jackson.

The snow storm had mostly calmed down, and with that the possibility came to safely return to Jackson. 

You returned to Jackson, followed by the group that you met in the mansion. Tommy offered them to stock up before their return to Seattle, and they had gratefully accepted. 

After returning to Jackson, you were quick to get back to your room. The day had wrecked you, and you were physically and emotionally broken. You didn't mind that the group would leave when you would be asleep, but you had the feeling one girl did. You didn't miss the many times she looked you up and down, almost as if she was checking you out. 

You couldn't care less, though. She would be leaving for Seattle soon anyway.

The next morning she was gone, and you went on about your life. You watched that movie with Joel, and you went on your patrol with Dina and Jesse. Everything seemed to have gone back to normal, until she showed up.

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

It had been a few months since the run in with the Seattle group, and you had been sticking closer to Joel than you ever had before. When he went on patrols, you went with him. It even went as far as sleeping in the house with him. You were terrified of losing him and you didn't want to leave him, even for a moment. 

Joel couldn't deny how much he enjoyed you sticking close to him. He as well was once afraid of losing you. After telling you the truth Joel was afraid he had lost you, And when he realised he hadn't, he wanted to be around you as much as possible as well.

He gladly took you in, cooking dinner for the two of you for when you returned from either your patrols or hanging out with Jesse and Dina. 

He enjoyed you openly loving him again. 

Of course, you had never stopped loving him, but you did stop showing it at some point. Now you were back to openly showing it again, hanging out around Joel as much as possible. 

Everything was back to normal in Jackson, until she showed up.

You remembered her name was Abby, and the guy she was with was Manny. They were with the Seattle crew, and now they were here. 

They weren't travelling alone, however. You were quick to spot the little boy hiding behind Abby.

They were let in quickly. Jackson was known for its hospitality, and neither Tommy nor Maria would ever let anyone stand outside of the gates, especially not someone they had met before. 

You were quick to be at the gate, welcoming Abby and Manny inside while you tried to get a good look at the little boy. You hadn't seen him before, and by his body language you could tell he was afraid. 

It didn't make much sense to you that they would show up here in Jackson. They had told you about their own settlement. How they had lived there for many years and how it was their home. Yet now, they were here, miles away from the place they claimed was their home. 

After following Maria and Tommy, who got the people inside quickly, you helped with preparing a meal for them. 

You served it, and they ate quickly, clearly not having eaten a lot in the past few weeks, maybe even months. 

After they ate, Abby explained what had happened, and why they had come to Jackson. Apparently, their group, the Wolves, were at war with another group, the Scars, or Seraphites, as the little boy corrected. The rest of their crew got taken out by said Seraphites, and while Abby was travelling to see her friend, Owen, she ran into two Scars.

They helped her, saved her life, and in turn she saved theirs. 

Apparently, Lev, the little boy, had a sister, who had broken her arm. Abby helped her, and together with Mel, who you remembered was in the Seattle crew, they removed her arm, saving Yara from compartment syndrome. 

However, when Lev had gone back to the island of the Seraphites to talk to his mother, Yara and Abby had gone after him, which eventually resulted in Yara's death.

The leader of the Wolves, Isaac, wanted to kill Lev, and he was prepared to kill Abby as well if she didn't get out of the way. Abby had protected Lev, and after Isaac was shot Abby and Lev made their way away from the island. 

They had run into Manny, and after Abby explained what happened, they had decided to go back to Jackson, hoping to find shelter there. 

The little boy was a Seraphite, and because Abby protected him, she was seen as a traitor to her own people. However, she didn't mind. Lev was her people now, and she would do anything to protect him. It reminded you of Joel and yourself, and after hearing their story, you wanted to help.

Abby, Manny and Lev were given a house in Jackson, and they were each given tasks in which they could help out. They weren't required to do anything while they were still settling in, but if they wanted to help, they could.

Seeing as though you had been in Jackson quite some time, and you had connections with Tommy and Maria, you were assigned to help them out a bit. Show them how things work around Jackson, and help them settle in. It was to be assumed they would need some time to adjust, but you were pleasantly surprised when they seemed to be settling in quite well.

You had started taking a liking to Abby, however. She was strong and beautiful, kind and funny. You liked her, and you were pretty sure she liked you too.

a/n: part one of this au is done, yippie! I wasn’t sure how to end this, so enjoy the sloppy, terrible ending. I promise to do better by part two :)

Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @nova-kyle @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @tia-thesimp @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000 @n0txn3vee @lorsstar1st

[nobody7102]

It's Okay

Pairing: Robert 'Bob' Floyd

Warning: Angst, injury, plane ejection and crash, hospitals, medical talk

Request: @mypr3ttygirlworld "If your comfortable, after watching greys anatomy I have been thinking of a story where Bob gets a brain injury/ brain surgery it’s him and his so basically coming to terms with what that entails. Only if your comfortable with writing it and if not I completely understand!"

A/N: They way I cried multiple times while writing this. I changed the request a tiny bit. Also I don’t know medical stuff so idk if anything is correct medically speaking

Main Master-List

___________________________

Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest as she ran from the parking lot into the entrance of the hospital, eye’s dashing around for some familiar face.

In the two years of dating Y/N knew that there would always be risks when dating Bob, but they never fully thought about it… until reality had caught up with them.

Her breath caught in her throat as she locked eyes with Rooster, before she racked her eyes over the rest of the team as they all sat in the waiting area. Standing from his seat Rooster made his way over to Y/N, pulling her into a hug.

Thoughts flooded Y/N’s head as she hugged him, and that's when her senses caught up with her as she took in Rooster’s words “Maverick’s talking with the doctors right now… we don’t really know anything” 

Y/N just nodded, pulling back “Where’s Natasha?” Rooster motioned to the corner of the waiting room, where Phoenix was slumped in her chair, one arm crossed over her form as the other rested against it, covering her face as her leg bounced against the floor.

Quietly Y/N made her way over to the pilot, kneeling down in front of her, Y/N placed a hand on Phoenix’s knee, causing it to stop bouncing as she looked up.

Y/N’s eyes softened taking in Natasha’s state. Her eyes were red, hair askew, and Y/N noticed how the palms of her hands were indented with the crescent shape of her nails. Leaning forward, Y/N pulled her into a hug as the pilot let out a rigid sob, arms wrapping around Y/N’s form “I-... I don’t know what happened” she mumbled into Y/N’s shoulder. 

The damn that had been holding back the tears and emotions finally broke in Y/N as she hugged Phoenix tighter. The two, not uttering a word as the rest of the team just watched, unsure what to do.

It took a few moments for the two women to regain their senses before Y/N sat next to Natasha and rested her head on her shoulder, as everyone else moved to sit closer to them.

“What happened?” Y/N finally managed to ask after a few minutes, as she sat up, her voice was quite as if something would break if she spoke any louder.

She felt Phoenix stiffen a bit at the question before she cleared her throat “It was supposed to be a simple training day…” she swallowed what little spit was left in her dry mouth “We were just gonna be practicing a flight path and ther-” her voice caught in her throat, her thoughts raced as she tried to find the word but everything just mushed together.

“We were flying when Phoenix caught some turbulence” Hangman continued, seeing how Phoenix struggled, he took her hand in his and gave it a light squeeze “They tried to level out, but it blew out the controls… and one of the engines.” he continued

“I thought-” Natasha started again, taking a breath “I hit the canopy button… but the latch got stuck… and then Bob’s seat-” tears started to make their way down her cheeks, she lifted her hands up to hide her face “I’m so sorry Y/N” she mumbled.

Standing from her seat Y/N walked from the group and out the entrance, she paced not knowing what else to do, not noticing how Rooster had gotten up to follow her. 

“Y/N” he called out to her “Y/N, you’re gonna make yourself sick” he grabbed her arm “Will you just take a breath? Please? I know you’re worried but if you worry yourself sick, it’s not gonna do anyone any good” 

“What am I supposed to do then Rooster?” she snapped tears coming to her eyes once again “I….I don’t know how all of you can just sit in there and do fucking nothing!” she raised her voice “god I would love to just sit and do nothing but I-... I-” as she tried to finish her sentence her body began to shake, Rooster pulled her into another hug “I still have so many things I have to tell him… things I wanna do with him…. I can’t-.... I can’t lose him” she sobbed into his chest.

The two stood in silence before the heard the door to the entrance open, “Captain’s back” Coyote’s voice filled the air before the door closed again.

Pulling away from each other, Y/N wiped away the tear stains on her cheeks, taking a few breaths. 

“Are you gonna be okay?” Bradley placed a hand on her shoulder. She nodded, wrapping her arms around herself as they made their way back into the waiting area. Moving back over to the team, Y/N took her place beside Phoenix, locking her arm with hers, giving her an apologetic look for leaving as she did moments before. To which Natasha just nodded before the two turned their attention to Maverick, who shot the two women a sad smile, before turning back to the majority of the team.

“Bob’s still in surgery, all the guy could tell me was that he had a brain bleed from the impact of the canopy and he’s having a craniotomy… they said it's gonna be another 2 or 3 hours. So if you all want to stay feel free, but if you want to go home and get some rest I understand. Admiral Simpson has granted everyone here time off for the week, and I will be staying and giving updates out to those who choose to go home” with that Maverick turned to hunker down in a chair.

Out of the whole team Y/N, Phoenix, Hangman, and Rooster had opted to stay with Maverick. As the time passed the team found themselves coping in any way they could.

Pete had taken to drawing small scribbles onto a notepad that he had found in the waiting area, trying to forget that the last time he was a part of an injury this bad was with Goose.

Y/N found herself biting and tugging at her nails, it wasn’t supper bad at first till she let out a sight hiss as she pulled at a hangnail. 

Looking over Phoenix noticed how red Y/N fingers had gotten, reaching her hand over she took one of Y/N’s hands in hers and gave it a squeeze. Looking away from her own hands Y/N gave Natasha a small smile of appreciation before her gaze caught sight of Natasha’s hand, which was also red and raw like her own. 

Hangman had started the train of hand holding, when he noticed how Natasha kept burying her nails into the flesh of her palms, so he took it upon himself to grab the aviator's hand to keep her from causing herself anymore damage. 

Rooster would glance between their small group before he turned his attention to the hallway watching the doctors and nurses as they walked, counting how many different colored scrubs he saw, how many were running places as opposed to walking, anything he could think of to keep his mind busy before he glanced back to his group and started the routine over.

At some point Y/N had fallen asleep against Phoenix’s shoulder, not even realizing it till Maverick and Phoenix were slowly trying to get her to stir from the slumber.

“Y/N there's a nurse coming out” as soon as the words left Phoenix’s mouth, Y/N was wide awake. Trying to straighten out her appearance as the group sat waiting to see whose name would fall from the nurses lips as she picked up a clipboard.

“Floyd, Robert” the nurse called out, causing them all to stand and follow the nurse into a hallway. Once a few feet from the waiting area a man came out to join the group. 

“Are all of you here for Mr. Floyd?” the man hummed, taking the board from the nurse. He was met with nods from the group before he looked at the board in his hand “What about the Emergency contact: Y/N Y/L/N?” 

Heading her name, Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. Bob never told her she was made his emergency contact, but she raised her hand sheepishly “That’s me” 

“Ms. Y/L/N why don’t you follow m-”

“No” Y/N cut the man off “Sorry…” she quickly apologized before adding “The people who are here are all that Bob has… at least all that he had that aren’t states away right now, whatever you tell me you can tell them” 

The man nodded then continued “Well, my name is Doctor Tanner I was the surgeon for Mr. Floyd’s craniotomy. For the most part the helmet did it’s job and absorbed most of the impact, however it still caused a minor brain bleed. We were able to stop the bleed and he’s in recovery right now. He’s a very lucky man” 

Hearing those words brought tears to everyone’s eyes, as Phoenix turned into Hangman for a hug, Rooster and Maverick shared a small smile before Y/N felt a hand squeeze her shoulder, not caring whose hand it was she placed her over it and squeezed back as the surgeon continued “We aren’t allowing visitors right now per hospital visiting hours but since Ms. Y/L/N is Mr. Floyd’s emergency contact you can stay with him till he’s out of the hospital”

“Oh…okay” was all Y/N could muster before she turned to her group. Rooster was the first to pull her into a hug. Followed by Maverick who had been the one to place his hand on her shoulder, gave her hand a reassuring squeeze once more before Phoenix and Y/N shared a tight embrace. 

“Jake and I were thinking of visiting tomorrow, do you want us to stop by your place and bring you anything?” Phoenix mumbled into Y/N’s shoulder.

Nodding as she pulled out of the hug Y/N let out a sigh “My purse… and my phone charger” Natasha nodded before Hangman pulled Y/N into a side hug. 

After bidding her ‘goodbyes’ and ‘good nights’ to the group the surgeon led her down the halls of the hospital.

He paused right outside of a room and turned to Y/N “I didn’t wanna say this in front of your group because there are some things I can only share…. Or at least am advised to only share with immediate family or emergency contact, but the surgery was rough for Mr. Floyd… we had to stop two more brain bleeds before he was fully stable… just so you're aware when you go in, he’s hooked up to a ventilator right now to help regulate his breathing till he wakes up… which brings be to my second point, we don’t know when he’ll wake up” as he spoke Y/N bit the inside of her cheeks trying to stay calm “The anesthesia will wear off in a few hours but after a surgery like his, he will wake up at some point we just don’t know when. Do you understand?”

Y/N nodded “Yes” her voice was quite like it had been before in the waiting area. Turning to the door of the room, he opened it for her. 

Taking a deep breath, Y/N closed her eyes as her mind raced once more before she opened her eyes and stepped through the door and into the room. Like the surgeon had said Bob looked rough, as Doctor Tanner had said Bob was hooked up to a ventilator. Part of his head, towards the crown was wrapped, and his face was slightly swollen from the surgery. 

Biting the insides of her cheek once more she moved further into the room, taking a seat in the chair that had been placed at his bedside. As she sat, she felt her body begin to shake once more, trying to steady her breathing she reached her hand out to take Bob’s, her thumb rubbing circled on the back of his.

Doctor Tanner cleared his throat, drawing Y/N’s attention to him once more “If you need anything or if anything happens, press that button” he motioned to a button on the wall beside the monitor that was tracking Bob’s heart rate. 

“Thank you” Y/N gave the man a small smile before he left the room, and she turned her attention back to the man laying in front of her. Letting out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding, tears started to make their way down her cheeks as she let out shaky uneven breaths. 

Bringing Bob’s hand up to her mouth, she lightly kissed it, being mindful of the monitors and IVs in it. She closed her eyes as did, a few tears falling onto the back of his palm before she opened them once more and set his hand back down on the bed. 

“Whoever’s looking out for you Bobby… we should send them a muffin basket” she joked to herself.

As the hours passed, Y/N found herself staring at Bob, memorizing the features she thought she knew so well. Yet as she looked she found herself noticing things she hadn’t, by now the swelling had mostly gone down and Y/N’s eyes traced over the details of Bob’s face. How he had a slightly uneven tan on his forehead from where his helmet sat. How the skin by the bridge of his nose had slight bruising around it, presumably from his glassing being squished into his face.

All the little details she thought she knew, like the back of her hand, were now different in some miniscule way. Taking his hand in her’s, Y/N brought his hand to her mouth kissing the back of it as she fought back tears.

“Oh Bobby…” she watched as his chest raised and fell, with the steady beep of the monitor in the background “... I love you so much…. And Phoenix and I are gonna kick your ass if you die….” she chuckled to herself as tears slipped down her cheeks “... Jake and Nat are grabbing stuff for us you know…. Probably feeding the animals too” she yawned, taking a few more minutes to herself to admire Bob’s sleeping form before she rubbed her eyes and leaned over Bob’s bedside, holding Bob’s hand as she fell asleep.

__________________________

The next morning, Phoenix and Jake arrived at the hospital with two bags in hand as they were being led to Bob’s room. Upon arrival they were met with Y/N in a chair that was pulled up to the bedside, she was draped over the bedside holding Bob’s hand. 

Setting the bag she held down next to the bed Natasha looked to Jake, who gave her an encouraging smile as she approached Y/N’s sleeping form. Extending her hand, she placed it on Y/N’s shoulder. “Y/N” she hummed quietly lightly shaking Y/N’s shoulder, after a few minutes she tried again “Y/N” she tried again shaking her shoulder a bit harder. 

“Hmm?” Y/N slowly stirred, pening her eyes she blinked before rubbing at her already irritated eyes before looking to the hand on her shoulder, then to Natasha. “Hi” she said quietly 

“Hi… How’s it going?” Natasha took her hand from Y/N’s shoulder and made her way to pull up another chair next to Y/N

“Where am I supposed to sit?” Jake set his bag down next to the one Natasha had brought in and looked around the room for another chair.

Natasha chuckled as Y/N sat up motioning to a spot at the end of the hospital bed, next to Bob’s feet “Do you want the chair or the bed end?” she shifted in the chair, cracking her back as she did. 

“I’ll take the bed end” he moved to sit on the other side of Y/N. “So back to Natasha’s question” he placed a hand on Y/N’s shoulder.

Y/N shrugged “You know… I’m as expected” she motioned to the door “The nurses come in every few hours to check on Bob” she looked back to the man resting in the bed “They’re gonna keep him on the vent till he wakes up… then after they have to see where he’s at after the surgery” she felt Hangman lightly squeeze her shoulder. 

She took Bob’s hand in hers once more “How’s everyone else doing?” 

Natasha shrugged “As expected… The team’s been meeting up at the Hard Deck.. Mav’s been between here and the Hard Deck” 

“I really have to thank him for sending out the updates to everyone, because I just don’t think I could handle that” Y/N sighed.

Looking between Y/N and Bob, Hangman leaned back against the end of the bed “So have you noticed anything? When my family was waiting for my mom to wake up after her surgery, my dad said he would see her twitch… like she was dreaming”

Y/N shook her head moving her eyes off of Bob and to Hangman “I haven’t noticed anything, but it’s only been 4-ish hours since the surgery…. I hope he’s dreaming… dreaming about something good…” Y/N sighed “I don’t know what I’m gonna do” 

To this comment Hangman smirked before he grabbed the bag he had brought and held it out to Y/N “And Nat said you wouldn’t need these” A look of confusion crossed Y/N’s face as she took the bag from Jake. Opening it she was met with three books and a set of colored pencils and the ‘Game of Thrones’ Bob had gotten her for the holidays last year. “I figured you’d need something to keep yourself occupied… I also saw a spare pair of glasses on the book shelf and threw those in there too.”

A smile came to Y/N’s face “Thank you Jake” 

The day turned to night before Y/N was awoken from her sleep by the should of couching.

“Holy shit” She breathed quickly, rising to push the Nuse’s button before she was at Bob’s side taking his hands in her as she tried to stop him from pulling on the tube himself as he continued to cough looking around the room frantically. 

“Bob, Honey” she held his hands at his sides “Bobby. Look at me” her voice was calm yet firm as she moved her hands to grip his “Bobby, breath through your nose” she introduced, watching as Bob did as she said “you had to go under for surgery, okay?” she continued with tears in her eyes, watching as he nodded, understanding “They had to put you on a vent while we were waiting for you to wake up… the nurses are gonna be here in a few minutes to take it out but till then I’m gonna be right here, and you’re gonna breathe through your nose okay?” he nodded again before giving her hands a squeeze.

Like Y/N predicted, the nurses didn’t take long to come in and remove the tube. Once the tube was finally out a nurse helped him take a few sips of water as she talked to Bob, taking down the rest of his vitals.

“Now your vocal cords are going to be swollen for the next few days. So take it very easy with talking” the nurse watched as Bob nodded “you’re gonna be taking up for an MRI and a Cat scan just to make sure everythings okay before Dr. Tanner comes in to talk to you… but that won’t be for a few hours since we’ve got others scheduled ahead of you” the nurse smiled at the two of you, noticing how Bob never let go of your hand, before leaving the room.

Turning to you Bob gave you a light smile before he tapped on the bridge of his nose, wincing slightly as his finger made contact with it.

Nodding in understatement, Y/N let go of his hand briefly to search through the bag that rested at her feet for the spare pair of glasses that Jake had included.

Taking out the blue plastic case, she opened it before unfolding the glasses and slipping them onto Bob’s face. “Better?” she hummed watching as his smile grew, probably from getting to see Y/N better. “I’m glad” she chuckled, bringing her hand up to the side of Bob’s face, holding his cheek. Instinctively he leaned into her touch as her thumb caressed his cheekbone. 

Y/N let her hand linger for a few more moments before she grabbed her phone out of her pocket, before her eyes flickered to Bob “Are you okay if I take a picture to send to everyone?” she watched as he nodded before throwing up a peace sign that was accompanied by a lazy and tired grin for the photo.

Making a group text for the team(and not wanting Maverick to give all the updates) she send the photo before adding

‘Look who’s awake :)’

Sliding her phone back into her pocket, Y/N took Bob’s hand once more and brought it to her lips, kissing his knuckles. “It's like one in the morning… we should both probably get some rest” she suggested and watched as Bob patted the bed. “Baby, I don’t know if that’s a good idea right now” she chuckled “Besides I don’t think we’d both fit” 

Shaking his head, refusing her answer. Bob scooched over on the hospital bed, making room for Y/N before patting once again to the space besides him.

Letting out a sigh, Y/N rose from her seat to join Bob on the bed. Mindful of the monitors he was hooked up to. Y/N relaxed into his side as his arm wrapped around her, as she took in his scent and the weight of his arm along her shoulder. She didn’t notice how he held his breath upon resting the whole weight of his arm against her. 

“Bob?” Y/N raised her brow, feeling his body tense even more. She turned her body and her hand moved to hold his shoulder. 

He felt her free hand reach up to wipe away a few stray tears that had fallen down his cheeks. Feeling her thumb against his cheek a sob racked over Bob’s body as Y/N pulled him closer. Holding him, mindful of herself and his IV and monitors.

“Its okay Bobby” she felt his grip tighten around her “We’re gonna figure this out” she hummed kissing his cheek.

_____________________________

General Taglist: @caswinchester2000

Bob Taglist: @masset-fotia @sparrows-corner @lovemesomeevesey @robertbobfloydlover @zaggprincess @awesome-fandom-princess @luckyladycreator2 @hotpigeon22 @alldaysdreamers @finja-caipirinha @juniebugg @liannisha @earth-to-lottie @winterrebel04 @kidsol-ar @airedale17 @bespinnn @fantasias-creativebubble @feireads @tispykeen @seasonswinter @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @tigerlillyyy @eg-dr3amer3 @revengze @m0chac0ffee @lizbradshaw @blog-name6996 @skylynch03 @ollyoxenfrees @massivedetectivestudent @fantasticcopeaglepasta @txtdreamss @honeyofthegods @alexwinchester23 @cowboybarbie @gretagerwigsmuse @ohh-to-be-a-frog @justthefckinggrainthings-blog @ireadthensuetheauthors @mistressslytherin

[wormdebut]

LET DOWN AND HANGING AROUND (CRUSHED LIKE A BUG IN THE GROUND)

Ahoy! This is my first VERY LATE ficlet for @corrodedcoffinfest ! My absolute bad for being so late, but BOY am I HAPPY TO BE HERE!

Warm Up Prompt One: Taxed. Word Count: 1000 (scrivener says 1000 Wordcounter says 979. IDK Man, it’s within limit), Rating: T, Pairing: None, CW: Swears, Smoking, Angst Tags: Eddie, Gareth, Jeff, Freak

----

October 1987

They've been at this for fucking years. Eddie feels like a fucking girl scout.

'Well hello there Mr. Music Man, would you like to buy a box of shitty garage band metal?'

Except they weren't fucking shitty. All of the guys had been working their assess off, writing, playing shows, shitty gig after shitty gig after shitty gig.

But they haven't managed anything. Nothing, zilch, nada.

They had a small crowd showing up at the Hideout, and the owner, Benny, started letting them play not only their usual Tuesday but because Eddie had been helping him with placehe was letting them play Saturday nights now too, which was great because while he appreciates the likes of his uncle and Wayne's best friends on Tuesdays, there were almost twenty people every Saturday night and that was something.

They also had a standing gig at a bar in Indianapolis at least once a month, lately they've been playing The Barrel every other week and Eddie thought--he thought--that that would get them somewhere.

The guys were fucking exhausted but Eddie kept pushing because they could do this. Corroded Coffin was great. They were great and somebody was going to see that…right?

Eddie saw what they had. He did. But the guys--

"C'mon Ed, we can't keep sneaking Gareth into bars forever. I think we need to--maybe consider other options or--" Jeff rambles. They were supposed to be practicing but Jeff Williams had to swoop inwith his stupid common sense bullshit. Jeff motherfucking Williams is one of the best guitarists Eddie has ever had to the privilege of listening to, but Jeff wants to go college like a real boy!

Gareth cuts him off, "It's just the two bars man, and I have a fake, if I need it anyw--"

Would you look at that, it's time for Freddy to cut in. "Yeah, but you're three feet tall and have the face of a newborn child."

Gareth shoves at Freddy's chest. "Oh fuck off, man. At least I'm not a virgin!" He yelps and great. This is great.

Now the band is fighting, again, because Jeff wants to go to College, Goodie is a Virgin, and Gareth is short.

Eddie just want to play music.

If they all want to yell, Eddie can yell louder. "See. Do you see what happens when you start talking about 'other options' Jeff? Chaos--and not the fun kind!"

"See, Eddie--this is the fucking problem with you. All you care about is your music, your dream, It's all about you!"

Jeff is yelling at Eddie, Gareth and Freak are rough housing, how did this even happen. All Eddie wants is to do something. Be something. He believes in this, in Jeff, and Freddy and Gareth, in the band.

And he gets that everyone is taxed, tired. Eddie is fucking exhausted. Gareth is trying to not fail his senior year. He gets it, he does, but-- "You know what, Jeff?" His voice breaks, and isn't that fucking humiliating? "Some of us, don't have college as an option. Did you ever consider that?"

Eddie leans over and grabs his cigarettes from the table, before shoulder checking Jeff as he leaves.

——

What’s the fucking point? Eddie puts everything into lyrics that people probably don't even know, all of them spend hours writing and harmonizing, making sure chords make sense, just for everything to be a pipe dream. They haven't taken a break for anything. It's either work or school or Coffin Shit. They haven't played D&D in months. They've just been doing this.

But it's all Eddie has. How the hell was he ever going to get out of shitty ass Hawkins, if it wasn't this way? He didn't exactly ace his finals--even the third time around. Honestly? He's pretty sure they just let him pass, to get him the fuck out of there.

He lights up what feels like his eighth cigarette--it's not, it's his second--and stares out to the empty street. They use Gareth's garage to practice…for being as straight laced as she is, Ms. Emerson sure does believe in the band.

Dottie Emerson and Eddie. God dammit, maybe Jeff is right.

He should go back, he should go back and apologize, and let this go. He has the job at the Hideout, he can save and maybe move to Indy--play an acoustic at some bars or…something.

God, he's just so tired of this shit.

He finishes his cigarette, and tries to breathe. Breathe in--hold--breathe out--he doesn't realizes Jeff until he taps his shoulder.

"Hey." Jeff says, quiet. Eddie, just nods, grabs his pack and offers a cancer-filled olive branch. Jeff takes it.

Eddie doesn't say anything. Doesn't want to, doesn't know what he should say.

So Jeff does. "I'm sorry, Ed. I didn't mean to make you upset. I'm just fucking tired man, we all are and I do want this, I do, but it's fucking scary." Eddie turns, watches Jeff blow out smoke. "I got accepted to IU, did you know that?"

Eddie blinks. He did not know that. "No, you hadn't mentioned it."

Jeff turns to look at him, "I didn't want this to happen."

Eddie closes his eyes, takes in a deep breath. In--hold--out. "You should go." He forces a smile, watches as Jeff's eyes shine for a moment--no wonder he had that silly crush on him his second senior year, but it was only for like a week, leave it alone--before he srunches his face up, Eddie can't help but laugh. Jeff always does that, when he's stressed. It makes him look like a rabbit.

Jeff goes to speak, but Eddie cuts him off. "Let's do this Halloween show, it'll be our going away gift to our tens of adoring fans."

Jeff laughs at that, nods, and pulls Eddie into a hug.

Everything will be fine, with or without Corroded Coffin.

[mister-eames]

1/2 I just want to point out that we have LITERAL VISUAL evidence of JGL having a Magic Mike moment & YET there is DEARTH of fics where Arthur goes undercover as a stripper (Why does he have to do this you ask? To gather info on a mark?? Idk! That's not important!!) But I think my favourite take on this non-existent fic would be everyone else underestimating Arthur & thinking he's not gonna be able to pull it off (😏 pun intended). I think people would tend to think of him as uptight & prim

2/2 But for Arthur it's just the job & he's committed & as a result he's 100% going to put his whole arussy into it & outstrip the strippers. Plus, he's not at all the strait-laced (as much as a criminal can be strait-laced...) person that his very slicked down & suited look would suggest. I guess i just need a moment where people are gobsmacked that stripping is one of arthur's rather extensive skill set & arthur meeting their incredulity with his own 🤨 elle woods, "what, like it's hard??"

Nonnie, I read this at 6am when I woke up and let me tell you how I CHOKED when I read arussy I am crying 😂.

I'm sorry it's taken me a few days to reply to this - as a thank you (and apology), I wrote you a thing:

---

Eames doesn't even register when the jacket smacks him in the face. In a cascade of cotton and silk, Armani falls into a heap straight into his lap and Eames doesn't even care because that is Arthur up there on the podium and he is gyrating against a stripper pole.

"Oh my god," says Ariadne somewhere besides Eames. "He's actually doing it."

This gentlemans club (of the strip variety) was particularly renowned for being a sanctuary for twinks and twink-lovers alike, a veritable haven for men seeking men of the slender and the slight, sexy and sassy kind. Eames could barely fault them for their taste, the establishment was called Bottoms Up after all ---

-- the crowd cheers raucously over the music as Arthur starts to unbutton his waistcoat, hips swaying with the beat.

And just like that, amongst the strobe lights, Eames is having a moment. A crisis of faith, if you will.

He honestly had thought it would be a laugh. The intel said that the mark frequented this club. The intel said the mark had a thing for svelte brunette twinks with an ass that wouldn't quit. The most svelte-est, brunette-est twinkiest twink on the official roster at the club said I'll dance and drug your guy for fifty-grand and Arthur had snorted in his face and said it's not in the budget, I'll do it myself.

Eames bet his entire earnings for this job on this.

On Arthur. The kind of gay man who Eames envisions listens to show tunes and Striesand and enjoys a sensible chardonnay on a Sunday afternoon between ironing his ties or his handkerchiefs, or whatever, before watching a football match with another glass of chardonnay and nodding sensibly at whichever strapping young team come out of top, figuratively and literally, before settling into bed.

On... Arthur. The kind of man who never let his personality get in the way of a job. Who was a team player. Who was one the last few criminals and men who cared about integrity. Who was full of hundreds of unsuspecting surprises that Eames had unearthed one-by-one over the years, fucking of course he would pull through ---

-- Arthur's actual tie, a deep crimson, goes flying into the crowd, a round of whistles escalating as a lucky bloke catches it, waving it in the air like a lasso. On the stage Arthur drags a hand down his chest, makes direct eye contact with the man and winks at him.

Eames clutches the jacket, throat dry.

He got this one very, very wrong.

Eames had put his money on Arthur being laughed off stage (and into his arms), on being too stiff and sullen to be purposefully sexy.

Because Arthur was sexy, but in a non-purposeful way. Eames has never been a man titillated by what he could get for free and that others had proudly paid for, and beat off to those daydreams of Arthur ironing his ties, and his hankies.

But there Arthur is now, legs spread, back flushed against that pole as he dips inches from the floor as dollar bills flutter around him from eager patrons like paper snowflakes, body somehow swaying fluidly to the beat - a top forty remix that Eames doesn't recognise but feels his own feet tapping in tandem, heat zipping to his groin.

Arthurs chest, now bared for everyone in the club to see, is glistening with what looks like oil, the pale, roaming spotlights of the club gives Arthurs skin the effect of being bathed in moonlight.

Their mark, a balding fifty-something, grins lecherously, thin lips spreading over cheap veneers as Arthur makes eye contact with him as he unbuckles his belt, slipping the leather through the belt hooks like a snake through grass.

Eames very suddenly hates their mark.

The feeling intensifies when Arthur deftly hops off stage, pants slug loose around his hips, body still one with the beat as he approaches the mark, coyly draping the belt around the mans neck with one hand. The man shivers with delight as Arthur slips the sedative into his drink with the other while he is distracted.

The man places his grubby hands on Arthur's hips, completely fooled, and something burns hot and cold at the same time in Eames chest.

He's about to storm over and smack the mans hands away when Arthur slips out of his grip.

Arthur turns about then leaving the mark bug-eyed and breathing heavily as he gets back on stage.

Eames can't hear his pounding heart over the cheers of the crowd as Arthur--who Eames called a stiff pointdexter two days ago--slides his back down the stripper pole and back up again, executing some kind of manoeuvre that makes his bones look like liquid--and drops his pants, leaving himself only in his briefs.

The song ends. Blowing a kiss to the deafening crowd, Arthur gathers up his clothes and heads backstage, set finally over.

There's a flurry of activity to Eames' right where Yusuf, playing security guard, is hefting up their mark who is increasingly sleepy and incoherent.

Eames was supposed to help him take him out back but his feet are already in motion, following Arthur into the backroom. He flashes his security badge at the sensor and enters.

Wiping off the oil with a wet wipe, Arthur is waiting for him it would seem, pants slung loosely around his hips, shirt unbuttoned. Through the vanity mirror Arthur makes eye contact.

He nods in acknowledgement "Eames."

"That was quite a routine out there," he says, shutting the door behind them.

In the reflection, Arthur maintains their eye contact and chin lifts a fraction in defiance as Eames slowly approaches. "Told you I could do it."

"You did."

"How much did you bet on me failing?"

"My entire commission for the job."

Arthur snorts.

"Stupid. You deserve that."

"Very stupid," Eames agrees, nodding. "I have been very, very stupid, Arthur."

His feet are still moving and suddenly he is before Arthur. His hands are moving too, out to grip Arthur's hips before Eames realizes what he's doing. He balls them into fists and drops them to his side.

Arthur's eyes follow the movement in the mirror, turning to face Eames anyway. "Aren't you supposed to be helping Yusuf?"

Eames blurts out, "I didn't know you could move like that."

Raising an eyebrow Arthur says, completely deadpan, "What, like it's hard?"

He stalks forward then, gripping Eames' hands and placing them on his hips. "Go help Yusuf," he leans in close to whisper, eyes dark, "finish the job. Impress me now. And then I can show you how else I can move."

Eames is out of there before he needs to be asked twice. He's going to impress the hell out of Arthur.

[ineffablydelighted]

[How exploring the Ineffable Husbands' dynamic in Good Omens can help us figure out what the show/book is all about, Part 1/?]

Also called: This human has, apparently, too much time on her hands and will be trying to Effable the Ineffable for [...] hours.

Ah, Hello! 👋

I'm ineffably delighted to meet you all! 😇

Let's cut to the chase and bear with me as we try together to analyze further the subject of the day:

Aziraphale is in love with Crowley and I am pretty sure he is aware of that fact BUT 

[yes, there is a "but", do not erase me from the Book of Life just yet, let me explain first, homie 🥺] 

I do not believe he can comprehend WHY he is just yet, and what that would mean for him in terms of... well... EVERYTHING he ever stood for.

It will also be the perfect roots to answer the biggest question yet :

What is Good Omens all about, exactly?

[Yeah, it's a tough one. When I say "bear with me", I really insist on the fact that it will be LONG. I will try my best to make it fun to read and to allow some "natural breaks" but know that I would appreciate your unshared attention if you're willing to give it to me. 😇]

Although, would you have the chance to ask him about it (probably looking at a cup of tea as we would all do in Earthy fashion), Aziraphale would have somewhat of an answer to give you, probably in the range of:

"Because, deep down, Crowley is the nicest being I've ever known."

Is it false? No, Crowley IS nice. Swaggeringly nice, occasionally unhinged, but still. Nice.

And that is somewhat the core of the... "problem" for our soon-to-be Supreme Archangel [Yep, the pain is still fresh, thanks for asking, you're welcome for reminding you 😭👍] because, as much as Crowley learned nuances due to past experiences (Falling being, most likely, the most traumatic one,) Aziraphale remains bound to think in absolutes. And everything relates to THIS perfect meme right there:

[Whoever you are, person/entity who has done that, you have forever my utmost gratitude and respect]

I'm far from bringing anything new to the table here, but to Aziraphale, Crowley should NOT have fallen in the first place. Because of how nice he is. Crowley IS an angel, to him. In fact, I'll go even further by stating that, to Aziraphale,

Crowley is more of an Angel than ANY Angel in the "Main Office."

Let's present our other contestants, shall we?

When he ruled, Gabriel was an absolute a** and had an ego the size of, idk, at least A DOZEN GALAXIES. He made Aziraphale feel like... well... poop most of the time they interacted.

That is why, in S2 when Gabriel/Jim tells him "I love you", Aziraphale, even being and considering himself a "creature of love", happens to be utterly unable to either reciprocate or take the compliment. At this moment, later enhanced when he reminds himself of the Job case, he realizes he is able to feel, if not hatred, NOT love NOR admiration for somebody he should somewhat consider a role model.

That is very important for Aziraphale's present and future character development, especially considering Gabriel/Jim's own fate, so please keep that in mind.

Michael? Oh God, Same if not worse: too condescending and ambitious in the wrong way to inspire anything nice to anybody.

Sandalphon just does what they are told but can totally throw a punch if necessary.

Uriel is mostly cold, occasionally cruel, and can also be physically threatening.

[I love the actress, though. Gloria Obianyo deserves a Ph.D. in Resting Bitch Facing for her performance in Good Omens alone and I'm here for it.]

S2 Saraqael seems to be more layered but has also been hurtful to Aziraphale (especially when she ironized that he couldn't possibly be the 25-Lazarii-magnitude-miracle caster).

Overall, S1 Aziraphale refers to the "Main Office" Angels as "BAD ANGELS!" after their hostile encounter. We could see from his face he would have wanted to use harsher words but couldn't get past his forgiving, decent nature.

Before we talk any furfur-ther [Am I proud of this so-called pun? A-BSOLUTELEH 😎🤭], let's add a really important stone/layer to our favorite Angel's thinking: to him, it is simple maths:

GOOD = RIGHT, BAD = WRONG

And let's save it for later, shall we?

[Killgrave dear is just here to remind you you can take a break anytime to drink a glass of Talisker if you'd like, or, more so, if HE'd like. Also because that character is THE best David Tennant role on television - 10th Doctor being the worthy third, I let you guess which character is our second now - and I might have wanted to use this gif just to be able to say that, who knows? *whispers* Mysssteryyyy...]

Anyway.

To a being like Aziraphale, who mostly thinks in dichotomy, being an Angel requires one main requirement: being GOOD.

[Buy a farrrrrm and be good! Not just "pretendy" good but. properly. GOOD! - NO, I couldn't find the gif and YES, I'm mad about it, but since I'm also unable to make one myself, I'll just shut it.]

That is why he refers to the Main Office Archangels as simply being BAD.

At that moment, they had been mean to him, threatening, and, by doing so, they became somewhat active in Hell's Armageddon project. Making them "bad" angels, but, more so:

Bad at BEING Angels.

Aziraphale, on the other hand, is, at heart, the penultimate goody-two-shoes: he does feel bad about himself whenever he does something bad/wrong such as lying (it has started to change, and I'll nuance that statement another time, but you get the grip).

He is constantly scared he might fall whenever he somewhat defies God's will or the idea he built in his head of what an Angel should be(have).

But have you paid attention to how his "Angelmates" NEVER seem to CARE about their own displays of, let's say "unconventional characteristics" for what should be the highest "Representatives of the sole concept of Good"?

Have you ever seen Gabriel or Michael being self-conscious about their narcissism and condescending tendencies? Uriel about their coldness? Saraqael about their sarcastic nature? Any of them about their use of violence? Of course not! They seem to be perfectly fine with it!

They own their characteristics, good AND bad.

Aziraphale does not.

Aziraphale is... soft. Even if he, at times, expresses regrets to be just that, he also applies it to his Angelic nature.

You know who else is soft?

Crowley.

Crowley is soft because he cannot kill children and takes it upon himself to LITERALLY DEFY BOTH GOD AND SATAN'S WILL TO SAVE SAID CHILDREN, including two annoying ones [especially the one who DARED to hit on Aziraphale but that is a topic for another day]

[MASSIVE Bildad the Shuhite fangirl here, consider yourselves warned.]

Crowley is soft because he cannot even kill GOATS.

Defying both God's and Satan's will to save kids? Yeah, eventually, okay.

Defying God's and Satan's will to save goats? Man, that's so effingly. more. powerful.

[Oh, look! A bird flying, normal thingy, nothing to see here, buh-bye!]

Crowley is soft because he proposes/"tempts" Aziraphale to "eat a spot of lunch", especially whenever his Angel experiences stress.

We have barely seen him eat, which might indicate he does not have such a strong taste for it personally. He only goes to the Ritz to enjoy Aziraphale's company and to watch him happily eat scrumptious, comforting foods.

[Okay, also because it morphed into a proper kink at some point but that is NOT today's subject, so stop trying to make me deviate from it! 😣]

Oh, and, before you bring that up, no, the alcohol motive is not relevant since he can, in all probability have a glass of Talisker in ANY sort of pub/restaurant in London.

[As a proper peated whisky lover who happens to be French, let me tell you this is NOT the case in my country and I'm super duper jealous of you, lads.]

Crowley is soft because he takes care of both Gabriel and Aziraphale's bookshop, even if it is clear he loathes the first and expressingly said he would not be a bookseller "even at gunpoint."

And, by "taking care of", know that I MEAN IT: he kept an eye on Jim, didn't wake him up when he heard him snore, answered any question he had, no matter how seemingly stupid they were [Even if Crowley, of all beings, cannot be anything but a raging "There is no stupid question, only stupid answers" representative] and offered him hot cocoa. As for the Booksho-P[uhhhhh *exhales in asthma*], he attempted to repair Jim's messy ordering twice and meticulously rearranged the place after ✨the Ball✨

[What do you mean, "he also Killgraved him into jumping out of the window?" HE ALSO STOPPED HIM FROM DOING SO, THANK YOU VERY MUCH. #NotBiasedInTheSlghtestIndividual]

Crowley is soft because he shares his Bentley with Aziraphale. Which is a VERY. BIG. DEAL. considering it was, at the time, HIS LAST ONE AND ONLY PRIZED POSSESSION.

[Should I mention that the Bentley FALLS IN LOVE with Aziraphale or is debating on whether or not that falls into the Oedipian complex territory off-topic? Yes, I'll see myself out.]

Crowley is soft because he rescues Aziraphale on countless occasions, even though, 99% of the time, that is pretty much unnecessary.

For real, guys: if Aziraphale had been discorporated in the course of his 6000+ years on Earth at any other given moment BUT on the eve of THE WAR with a capital "W", nobody in Heaven would have flinched.

[I do have a theory, though: maybe being re-incorporated takes quite a long time, which would have meant too many years apart from each other, hence the growing Damsel in Distress kink in Aziraphale, idk THAT IS NOT TODAY's SUBJECT, OKAY?!]

Also, Crowley is soft because "doing that makes him so happy".

Do you know who is supposedly "so happy" to save living things, aka GOD'S CREATIONS? Angels.

Crowley is soft because he rescues Aziraphale even when it is ACTUALLY ENDANGERING for both of them

He risked: his life, his pretty comfortable position "he carved out for himself", both his Earthy and Infernal homes sort of speak, AND EVEN HIS CAR to save his Angel's bottom/help him out in the direst situations (like stopping time to stop SATAN HIMSELF.)

[Also his past/present/future existence altogether, but the Bentley is more important, as I'm sure we'll all agree.]

[That is a Class A Protective/Helpful Husband, right there.]

Crowley is soft because he encourages Aziraphale to follow his passion for ✨prestidigitation✨

Even though he is pretty... amateurish at it. Not only does he encourage him, but he also HELPS him when he accepts to be his dashing assistant on stage.

[Yes, he does tell S1 Aziraphale to stop doing magic because he "has no idea how demeaning that is" but I'm pretty sure it was BECAUSE of S2 1941's events. Also, #WeStan1941Crowley here.]

Crowley is soft because he works pretty hard to make two humans he barely knows fall in love.

Yes, he also does it to cover his and Aziraphale's 25-Lazarii-magnitude-miracle lie BUT don't tell me his amazed expression when he thought he was about to witness Nina and Maggie actually falling for each other was not the purest, sincerest of all.

Finally, even if I could come up with more examples,

Crowley is soft because he saved Aziraphale's books JUST because he KNEW and CARED that Aziraphale CARED about said books.

That also, in Michael Sheen's very own opinion [as stated by Neil Gaiman in S1 GO DVD commentary], shared by many fans, and myself very much included, marks the moment

Aziraphale falls in love with Crowley.

[I DARE you to tell me THIS is NOT THE LOOK OF LOVE PERSONIFIED, go on, fight meh.]

So. WHY did it happen at that moment in particular? Well, because, first of all:

As a proper Jane Austen fan, Aziraphale is a slow burner.

Also, to him, an actual Angel, love is everywhere, so differentiating one love from another might be more difficult for somebody who can feel it whether or not it is even their own.

BUT [have you started getting used to my "but"s yet or should I harass you some more?] Let's go back in time to see how every previous encounter (that we know of) led to that pinnacle, shall we?

[Oh and, YES, this sort of essay will be long, and NO, I had no idea how much it would be when I started writing it, and still haven't, tbh 🤷‍♀️]

During part 2, we will also dive a little bit deeper into what Good Omens is all about.

[Yeah... I figured we would all need a break at this point.]

More on that later, then!

Hope I kept your interest at a reasonable peak. See you soon, Angels ❤

Need help to find the rest of this analysis? I've got you covered! Follow me, Angel 😇

Previous - Beginning (you're here) - Next

[bunji-enthusiast]

Idea idea idea because honestly this is like my fav scenario for scourge currently??

Basically the Reader is Sonic's friend, we know Scourge got something against and prob everyone and everything associated with said Blue blur if I remember correctly, but imagine the reader and Scourge in a predicament and they have to work together at least until they get out of said predicament, prob a lot of backhanded comments or something but like after this, Scourge grew to be interested in the Reader, it's like enemies to frenemies to friends to lovers idk I just love him and want to share this 🥹

Murphy’s Law — Scourge The Hedgehog

Note || your so rightttt, I love this idea. So now if I may add onto it extensively with a couple of my own.👁️👁️

WC || 610

This was not how he wanted his day to go, this was worser than worse. 

It was horrible.

“COME ON YOU IDIOT!” You shouted, running ahead as you held onto his wrist tightly. As if you were afraid of what would happen if you ever let go of him. “WE’RE GONNA DIE THANKS TO YOU.” Scourge was still rather confused how he ended up in this predicament with you out of every other person conceivable in the universe. 

Finally he found his voice as he shouted back, re-adjusting himself as he kept up and stayed alongside you. “YOU DON’T THINK I KNOW THAT?” 

A giant dragon was chasing the two of you throughout a cave system, it was supposedly very angry about what the two of you had done. You’d say that it was Scourge who pushed it over the edge for the dragon, who in turn was now very, very angry. Now you two were running for your lives. 

Soon enough Scourge ended up overtaking you in speed, now you were the one left behind him. You were near and damn near close to panicking, you certainly didn’t want to die, and especially not Scourge's back being the last thing you see. You pant hard, trying your best to force your leg muscles to trudge on forward and away from the maw of the dragon. Your hand reaches out for Scourge unconsciously, eyes closing to loss of consciousness. 

You couldn’t run as fast as you could prior to the first few minutes of this chase, you couldn’t keep up with Scourge anymore. 

“Hey! Look over ther-'' Scourge looked back to check on you, eyes filled with a hint of concern. He realized you had passed out, for a moment he had considered leaving you behind, but he couldn’t do that to you. He growled at himself, diving back to grab you and immediately held you close as he ran away from the dragon, incidentally narrowly avoiding death all at once.

Scourge let out a sigh, then continued forward with you in his arms. You certainly were gonna give him an earful later should you wake up anytime soon. That was fine by him, he really didn’t want to associate himself with you anyway.

That would’ve meant association with the stupid blue hedgehog himself.

His legs continue pushing himself forward, keeping you in mind as he continues to run. The light signaling the exit ahead, he zooms straight for it and hopes for the absolute best. Suddenly he can feel himself falling.

“HOLY–”

Scourge grimaces as he braces himself for impact, keeping himself on the bottom as a cushion so he’d rather absorb the impact.  

He felt like he almost passed out, with a groan he uprighted himself and held you close, checking for any substantial injuries on your being. Scourge frowns almost, figuring out what he should do. He realizes that Sonic and your friends will be retrieving you soon, so he puts the item right near you. 

The exit out of the cave suddenly explodes, he scoffs as he remarks with a grin, “Ka-freakin boom baby.” Scourge begins to walk away, only stopping when he hears a noise escape you. His eyes directed right toward you, his ears pin back and now he was feeling helpless. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t take you with him. That would get your Sonic and the rest of your friends on his ass.

You shiver in your unconscious state, deciding he shouldn’t just leave you like that – he lends his jacket, laying it over you and covering you in order to allow you some warmth.

“Sweet dreams, I guess.”

[carsonsbackwardscap]

What's the word again?

GIF by @storiesofsvu2-0

Alex Blake (x reader?) Summary: Alex finds out asexuality is a thing! Word Count: 1.818

author's note: asexual!Alex is my new roman empire. first time writting Alex so I'd really like to read your thoughts! not a lot of romance this time, but ther is some fluff. Alex and reader are sweet and I enjoyed writting this so there might be a ch2 idk.

What’s the word again?

Alex knows how to socialize. She’d learned the rules a long time ago; catalogued and memorized the expected behavior to each specific social situation as she handcrafted her own guidebook to human interactions. Some things changed here and there over the years, but mostly she did fine. Alex Blake knows how to socialize.

That doesn’t mean she has to like it.

She especially dislikes it when it comes to teenagers. Something about that particular age group always has her on edge, as if she’s about to get caught on a lie anytime. She’s not quite sure what she would be lying about, though.

Arguably, social interactions weren’t her strong suit, but she did just fine most of the time. Being so good with words certainly helped. The fact that she stopped caring so much about what other people thought of her helped even better.

She could hold her own with people her age, most of them having grown up on the same social environment and signing off on the same silent agreements of social interactions she unwillingly did. Kids could be unpredictable, but they had a genuine and straight to the point attitude she found easy to bond with, always enjoying her time with the tinny humans who had yet to learn all the unnecessary red tape. But teenagers? She had a tough time being around teenagers when she was one of them.

And it seems it didn’t get any easier now.

Which is why she was currently standing in an empty bathroom, staring blankly at her reflection as she tried to drown out the sounds of the party going on outside.

The university she was teaching at since she left the bureau had organized a week of immersion in the college experience to last year high school students of all over the state. For a week, they were no longer high school kids, but college students. Which might have been a great experience for them, but for Alex? Not so much. This farewell party marks the end of what had to have been the most overwhelming week of her career as a professor.

At least it’s almost over… She thought as she washed her hands one last time before heading back, a task that would’ve been a little bit easier to accomplish if a certain psychology professor had managed to show up on time for once.

Not that Alex had any right being upset about it, she hadn’t exactly told Y/N how important her company was, that she provided a source of safety and familiarity crucial to surviving gatherings like this one. Y/N knew the week had been less than pleasant for Alex, but she didn’t realize her presence had been the one thing keeping Alex afloat on more than one occasion.

“Figured I would find you here…” The teasing but gentle words pulled her from her thoughts.

“Punctual as ever, I see.” She shot back with an amused glint in her eyes, Y/N’s mere presence already brightening her mood.

“Please, you can’t make an entrance if you arrive before everybody else.” As Alex chuckled, Y/N held out her hand. “C’mon, assuming you’ve been here since the start, only about half an hour longer and we can ditch.”

They made their way back to the party and closer to the table filled with snacks and non-alcoholic drinks. As Y/N poured them both a glass of orange juice, Alex whispered, “You don’t have to leave just because I want to, I know you enjoy having them around.”

“Even I have had my fill.” Y/N puts on her most over the top grimace. Alex doesn’t buy it for a second. “But, yeah, they’re pretty fun.”

“How has any of this been fun to you?”

“They are teenagers!” She gestures excitedly to the room. “They are a whole subculture on their own. Then there are subcultures within the subculture…”

“Nerd.” Alex teases, if only to spare her from how cute Y/N looks when she’s starts rambling.

“Said the linguistic professor.”

“Fair enough.”

“It did surprise me that you don’t like them. Sure, to me they’re an endless source of entertainment, but I thought you’d be at least interested. I mean, if you pay attention, you can see it’s almost as if each group has its own vocabulary…”

“Yes, and I understand not one of them.” Alex lets out a nervous laugh as she remembers the countless times she’d felt lost among her temporary students. “I feel really old saying that.”

“You should.” Y/N deadpanned, earning a harmless slap on her shoulder as Alex rolled her eyes and redirected her attention to the group of high school students they were supposed to be interacting with.

Y/N wasn’t wrong, though. Alex did find the diverse ways the teens talk to and about each other rather interesting. It’s just… she would appreciate it a lot better with she didn’t have to participate. A particular incident has been hunting her thoughts for the past couple of days, and it just happened Y/N was one of the best – and only – people she could talk about it with.

“If you’re done judging me…” She sees Y/N mouthing a never, but just rolls her eyes and keeps going, “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you about.”

She pauses for a second, not sure how to word the question properly. She’s curious but doesn’t want to overstep. Maybe she should have just googled it. Y/N is the kind of person one can ask pretty much anything to, as long as it’s in good faith, she never takes offense. It’s one of the things Alex loves about her. That and how Y/N always knows when to prompt her further and when to wait and give her some time, as she’s doing right now, quietly sipping on her drink as Alex gathers her thoughts.

“Do you know anything about asexuality?” Y/N nods and Alex thinks she might need to give her some context. “I overheard some of the kids talking about it and I am curious as I don’t think I ever heard of it before and I’m pretty familiar with sexual diversity…”

“Yeah, it’s a slightly smaller group within the LGBT+ community. There are nuances to it, but the definition is pretty straight forward, I guess, it’s the lack of sexual attraction to other people.”

She had figured out that much, being a linguistic and all. She doesn’t need a dictionary. She is not sure what she needs. She needs to talk about it, needs to understand. She needs to know what it is about that word that has her feeling like her word is about to crumble.

Alex knows her frustration is misplaced, though, so she tries to communicate better.

“Could you explain it to me a little better? How does that work?”

“Are you asking the psychology professor or the LGBT advocate?” Y/N smiles at her and she feels a bit of tension leave her body.

“Both?” She smiles right back.

“Well… Let’s start with what you already know. Think of asexuality as something separated from homo, bi, hetero… as in it’s not exactly about who you feel attracted to, but about how much or how often. An asexual person would experience less or no sexual attraction regardless of gender. They could feel no sexual attraction at all, they could feel some sexual attraction depending on the context or they could even feel a  lot of sexual attraction just not often. Am I making sense?”

“In theory…” The answer slips past her lips without much thought, Y/N looks at her questioning and Alex tries to come up with a better one. “I just didn’t know this was a thing that happened.”

Y/N just hums in agreement.

Isn’t that how everyone feels? It’s what she really means to ask. She is not ready for that answer, even if she already knows it.

Silence falls over them again, but this time the thoughts running around Alex’s mind are darker. The conversation somehow leading her to what felt like a lifetime ago, when she’d first discovered that there were girls who liked girls and that she’d been spending way too much time admiring her best friend’s beautiful eyes. The feeling somehow so similar and yet so different. Terrifying in a whole new way.

“It’s okay, you can ask. It’s you and me.” Y/N’s gentle reassurance snaped her out of that train of thought.

“Is it a condition? As in a psychological disorder?” She didn’t know what answer scared her more.

“No. I mean, it could be resulting of trauma, sure, but then most of our sexual preferences are, to some extent.”

“Fair enough” Alex felt her body relax once again as she decided that the time for spiraling out would come later, now was time for answers. “Psychological explanation, please.”

“Good old sublimation, I suppose. Libido being channeled somewhere else.”

“Simple like that?”

“Simple like that.”

 Alex nods and doesn’t say anything for a while. They stand shoulder to shoulder in comfortable silence watching the crowd.

“Has it been half an hour yet?”

She doesn’t miss how Y/N failed to check the clock.

“Yeah. Let’s get you home.”

The ride to Alex’s house was a short and quite one, Alex lost in thoughts as she looked out the window and Y/N more than happy to let her be, well aware there was something deeper about Alex’s “curiosity”.

“Could they fall in love?”

“Of course. Sexual and romantic attraction are two completely different aspects of the human experience. They can be correlated but aren’t necessarily.”

Alex nodded and hummed contemplatively, before turning her head to look at Y/N and giving her a smile.

“If we can have sex with people we don’t love, we can love people we don’t have sex with.” She shrugged. “I just always assumed we all felt the same thing, you know?”

Sensing Alex was in a better mood, Y/N jokes, “I mean, think about it, you go months without seeing your husband and you’re fine. I go one week without sex and I’m crawling up the walls.” Her expression of horror against the very idea making Alex laugh. “We are all different, some of us just like to have words for it.”

Alex is linguistics professor.

Y/N parked in front of Alex’s house and turned to look at her.

“I have a few articles I could send you that might help you understand it all a bit better. Some online blogs as well, could be nice to have a more personal perspective.”

“I would like that, thank you.”

“I’m also here to talk. About anything. Anytime.”

Alex chuckled. Y/N knew her way too well in such a short time.

“Send me those links, will you?” She winked at Y/N, who just shook her head and smiled at Alex’s stubbornness.

Alex all but ran over to her door. She had a lot of reading to do.

[uncertain3teeth]

ite shut your assholes listen up bc i HATE when ppl slander my mans blitzo so this is my take

imo i think blitzo is slowly getting character development and i think ppl dont get that fire he caused not only set his crush on fire on accident and he blew up leaving him with scars but also his ther died in that fire and he blames himself for her death and his sister hates him probably for that reason so he also feels guilt for that and his dad idk where he is now but he also hates him too so blitzo being an ass all the time is him just hating himself and thats understandable

and also when he thinks that stolas doesnt like him and only wants to fuck him he is prolly thinking of how when he liked fizz and he wanted to confess to him but the accident happen so he is afraid of liking ppl bc he also doesnt want anything bad to happen again bc when ppl have trauma like that they avoid anything dealing with it like i had trauma with school bc my shit cousin abusing me and shit from elementry school and up until 11th grade and she also controlled where i go and forced me to hate my mother AND now i avoid anything related to school and after 11 grade i dropped,,,i think ppl shld think of blitzo in a psychological way bc yes hes an ass but he has a reason for it and i dont wanna hear any pussy weak ass ppl say "but its still wrong" be openminded cunt and actually take a look at what is happening

also trauma that blitzo had takes literally time to fucking recover from and thats why he is reserved as hell like he can care he does like you saw in episode 7

also little blitzo said he wants to be big in the circus but as he grew up that didnt go well bc of what happened so he went to killing ppl bc its probably an escape and also killing ppl is probably reflecting his hatred for himself so he takes it out on other ppl and OUU also i think since maybe since his mother died bc of what he accidentally did i think him killing ppl is also some sort of control thing like he can control when someone dies bc since his mother died out of his control on accident he yk does that or maybe he just wants kill ppl bc its a connection to the mother in a certain way i feel like his mom maybe taught him how to fight maybe idk but yeah thats also my theories

and also something i want to add is that the reason i think he wants to be in a poly relationship with millie and moxxie is bc its a healthy relationship and he craves the caringness of it but he doesnt want to reveal it bc hes afraid of being vulnerable and he is also jealous bc moxxie and millir is probably a walking reminder of what he wanted with fizzarolli but couldnt so he masks it by being evasive and everyone knows how blitzo is and everyone is use to it so nobody pays no mind and the fact he still likes horses and has horses in his office all around is also bc it reminds him of fizzarolli bc of them playing together so its a coping mechanism for him to keep that close ALSO i think the reason he dated verosika is bc of mommy issues and also he seemed to have a good relationship with his mother and willing to help her and since the dad is an asshole i think he is close to his mother bc yk remember the picture and stuff so maybe dating verosika is why bc its what he was use to

[averageartistamber]

Okay, so Sider Order.

Here's a few of my random observations and thoughts:

So here it looks like Pearl Drone is flying Eight in through a window? Ands it looks like some kind of factory or packaging plant. I've heard folks saying that the things being packed in boxes could be something akin to Mem Cakes from Octo Expansion...Perhaps and early sign that Kamabo.Co is involved.

FINALLY, ENEMIES THAT AREN'T OCTARIANS!

Well, these Goo-bers are interesting. Many have pointed out that they resemble fish species that feed on coral. But I also want to add that they have an "undead" aesthetic even more overt than they sanitised people. Someone on Tiktok pointed out that they look like fossils, and the "jelly" surrounding the bones (and what seems to be their ink) could be a visual pun on "fossil fuels". Note how the "bursts" of fluid don't look anything like the ink that other entities in the series use.

This basically confirms that we'll be playing as Agent Eight. After the first teaser I saw a lot of theories about being a clone floating around.

Now everyone's going crazy about DedF1sh (Or Acht, as they are referring to themselves here.) There's some interesting dialogue here. First of all, "another bystander who got suck in here", so, "another" in this context could be themselves since she's talking to Eight and Pearl, but there could be a chance that we could encounter more people who have ended up at the Spire of Order. Plus, she's most likely not here of her own accord, from the "bystander sucked in" part (assuming she's telling the truth). People are being brought here.

Secondly, Acht mentions knowing Marina from "way back", so we could be getting deeper into Marina's backstory (another common theme in the fan theories). Dedf1sh also introduces the player to the Chip and Palette system, which are a core part of the DLC's gameplay loop, since they appear to be going for a Rogue-like. Ther chips kind of remind me of the paint colour swatches you get at a hardware shop, combined with computer chips (that's not totally relevant, I'll admit).

More stuff to do with the gameplay. It looks like each floor has a few variants with different difficulties and objectives, which reward a currency, most likely used to buy chips and other upgrades. It's giving that impression almost that the Spire is another "testing facility", akin to the Deep Sea Metro. Hopefully this places doesn't contain any blenders.

Unusual way of spawning in, where you can see Eight's soul ghost...thing enter a polygonal model before fully forming. There does seem to be a lot of digital glitchy stuff going on. Maybe some virtual reality elements?

Finally, what I think looks like a boss arena (although some have suggested that this machine is the Big Bad itself). Upon close inspection, the "faces" scattered around it are covered in the oil and are moving around a bit. Looks kinda like Tartar during the final confrontation when he for some reason had a blob of sanitised goop on his face. I might be reading too much into this.

I mean, if they wanna bring Tartar back, he is an AI, so they could say a back-up copy of him was found somewhere. Like, a time capsule with the Professor's crappy spare USB or somethin' idk.

Anyway, that's all I got for know. Just gotta wait for Spring.