#it's probably just the kind of weird day where this feeling happen to hit harder but

[fly-sky-high-09]

Yet another 4am staring at the phone

[buckyalpine]

I adore all of your stories and turn to them at night when my brain won’t stop running. I have kind of a weird request. How would Bucky react to his girl temporarily losing her memory? (I once lost mine for two weeks due to a bad reaction to a medicine, so this pops in my mind from time to time.) The reader doesn’t remember who he is, but still feels safest when she’s with him. I’m sure he’d be the absolute sweetest. And since he’d know what it was like, he’d probably know what’s helpful and what makes things worse. When she eventually recovers, she remembers all he did for her and falls even more in love 🥰 Maybe some spicy thank yous?

Sorry if it’s too specific or out of your comfort zone! Feel free to change anything (I did base it a bit on what happened to me, but I’m sure it’d be different for everyone). Thanks!!

YESS THIS IS SO SWEET AND SOFT AND ADORABLE

"I need back up on the east wing!" Steve's voice crackled through the coms, his breathing labored as he tossed off another hydra operative against the wall, "A-agent down!"

You were passed out on the floor, dust and rubble surrounding you after exhausting yourself, 3 stab wounds were bleeding profusely from your abdomen along with other cuts and bruises littering your skin. Your head throbbed in pain from where you'd been hit and with each passing second it became harder for you to stay awake. You'd tried your best to keep your eyes open with Steve's pleading but it was too much; the pain started to dull and the world went black.

-

"It's a strong medication and she might be out for a little longer but she's going to be okay. We just have to keep monitoring her" Dr. Cho's voice spoke softly just outside of the room where you still laid unconscious. After getting patched up and scanned for damages, you were dosed with anything and everything to keep you rested and to help with pain. You had visitors day in and day out to check on you but the one that never left your bedside was your sweet boyfriend.

"Baby please wake up" Bucky softly pleaded as he ran his fingers gently across your face, not wanting to disturb you but also unable to keep his hands to himself. Not when he just wanted to see you open your eyes again, hating the fact that he hadn't heard your voice in two weeks.

Two weeks.

That's how long you'd been out for.

He was patient, not wanting to rush your healing time but he missed you so much. He continued his soft ministrations, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles and peppering kisses across your cheeks. He noticed the slight flutter of your lashes, sitting up immediately when your heart monitor picked up.

"Sweetheart?" He kept his voice low, paging for a nurse to come check on you while holding your hand, his heart racing when you finally opened your eyes. "Oh baby"

You blinked at the fluorescent lights of the room, looking at the sterile environment surrounding you. Bucky stroked your hand, hoping to ease away how disoriented you were probably feeling, giving you a soft smile when you finally met his eyes.

"How are you doll?"

"Um-I'm fine?" You stared at the handsome stranger that was by your bedside, his beautiful blue eyes swirling with emotion as he continued to clutch onto your hand.

"I was so worried y/n"

"Who-I'm really sorry, who are you?"

Bucky's eyes widened with horror, quickly recomposing himself seeing your confused expression. He dropped your hand, immediately adding space between you both, offering you comforting smile before heading out of the door.

"Let me get the doctor" He didn't want to worry you, keeping a steady voice as he spoke before speeding down the corridor as soon as he was out of sight. He wasted no time informing the others about what had just happened, the team all patiently waiting outside of your room while the doctor checked on you.

"Will she be okay?" the words came tumbling out of Bucky as soon as Dr. Cho finished running a few tests, shutting the door behind her, letting you rest. He'd been pacing up and down the hall like a changed animal the entire time, only stopping when he heard Dr. Cho gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze.

"Her memory will come back eventually but until then it's important things are calm for her. Between the hits she took and the medication, she doesn't remember much from the last 2 years. You have to remember, throwing too much information at her will set her back so do your best to keep things the way she'd understand"

It wasn't going to be easy. There was no time line for when your memory would return and you had just joined the team two years ago. You didn't remember anyone, having no recollections of all the memories you'd built with them, nor remembering any of the friendships you had. As soon as you were discharged, you took the first day to rest in your room, not knowing that Nat had cleaned out all memories of Bucky so you wouldn't feel more confused.

After sleeping for most of the day, a man knocked on your door and introduced himself as Tony Stark, the very Iron Man. You couldn't recall too much but the name rang a bell; you knew he was the main person for you to go to if you needed anything. His first task was to take you around the compound, introducing you to various members of the team.

You met Nat and Clint training together in the gym. Sam had been tinkering with something called Red Wing. Steve had welcomed you with a warm hug and Bruce had been working away in the lab. Tony continued his tour, walking you through the kitchen when your eyes landed on a familiar face from before.

"And whose that" You felt your face heat up as you pointed over to the handsome man that has been by your bed earlier in the day, still feeling his soft touch on your skin.

"That's Bucky, or Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes" Tony stated, smiling at the way your eyes lingered on the soldier for longer than necessary. "Here, let's go say hi"

Tony sauntered over to where Bucky was nursing a cup of coffee, the bags under his eyes growing from a lack of sleep but that didn't stop him from throwing you a bashful smile when Tony introduced brought you to him.

"Barnes, this is y/n, she's joining our team soon"

"Nice to meet you doll" Bucky shook your hand with the utmost care, the pet name he had just for you rolling off his tongue with ease. "Let me know if you need anything"

You felt butterflies at the smirk the soldier threw your way before making his way over to the gym, the blue eyes twinkling with something you couldn't quite place. The rest of the day went by smoothly and later that night you accepted the teams invitation to join them for dinner and then later a movie night.

You were aware that you'd sustained an injury which was affecting your memory; what you still didn't know was how much of your memory was missing. You felt nervous as you made you way to the dining table, everyone sitting in their designated spot, chatting away while passing dishes to each other.

Before you could quietly retreat to your room, you locked eyes with those familiar baby blues, a smile growing on his face. Bucky got up from his seat, noting how anxious you looked, understanding seeing everyone together would be overwhelming when you didn't remember any of them. He knew exactly how that felt and there was no way he was going to let you ever feel even an ounce of that.

"I hope you're hungry, doll" Bucky spoke to you softly, not bringing attention to where you'd backed up against the wall in hopes of not being noticed.

"A little" You lied, the rumble of your stomach giving away that you were starving.

"Would-would you like to join me out in the garden? I'll bring some food out for you" Bucky offered, hoping you'd feel less overwhelmed with a bit of space.

"Yes please, thank you Bucky" You shyly smiled as he stepped away to get you some food, taking both of your plates outside to eat under the soft glow of the moon. You appreciated that he didn't bombard you with questions; the both of you eating in comfortable silence until it was time for the movie. All the anxiety you'd anticipated feeling disappeared into thin air when Bucky made some space for you to sit beside him. He picked a section of the room where you'd be able to sneak off undetected if you wanted to leave early.

There was something about the Sergeant that made you feel safe. You felt loved by everyone but with Bucky it was just different. You felt safe around him. You trusted him. You didn't know him all that well and yet whenever he was around, you knew you didn't have to worry.

There were days where your anxiety would be at an all time high, worried about why you were getting vivid flashes of random memories and terrible headaches that made you nauseous. In those moments where you felt so lost, so out of control over your own thoughts, Bucky would ground you, just being around him making you feel better.

You couldn't understand why you felt so safe around a man you barely knew but you found yourself seeking him out more and more, desperate for more of his kind words, gentle touches and soothing voice.

He really was the sweetest.

-

It killed Bucky. His heart was hurting. He was a stranger to you and it shattered him, wishing he could kiss and cuddle you every night and tell you he was so glad you were okay, that a part of him nearly died when you didn't wake up. Everyday he had to bid you good night with nothing more than a smile, so badly wanting to hold you tight in his arms instead.

None of that mattered right now.

Not when you needed him the most even if you didn't know it.

He was going to do whatever it took to get you better, taking care of you every step of the way in the best way you needed until you remembered. He could tell by the way you giggled, by the way you smiled, that even if you didn't remember everything, there was always something between you both.

He'd never give up on you no matter how long it took.

-

"Shit" You hissed, dropping the mug of tea you were sipping on, the cup shattering on the floor with a crash. Searing pain felt like it was splitting your head into to, your hands clutching onto your throbbing temples, squeezing your eyes shut, the headaches you'd been getting happening more frequently.

You'd cut back on the medication you were taking, which had actually helped with regaining some of your memory but it also meant you'd go through bouts of pain without anything to help it. Flashes of a mission gone wrong streamed through you memory between fiery throbbing, even the soft day light overwhelming your sense.

"B-Bucky!!" You cried out, your knees buckling as you slumped onto the floor, blinking back tears as another wave of pain passed. You didn't need anything else but you needed your Bucky, the only person you felt felt safe with, the person you'd loved for all these years, the man who was by your bedside for days on end after you didn't wake up-

"Doll? Fuck, y/n, whats wrong sweets" Bucky found you curled up in a ball on the cool kitchen tile, sweeping you up into his arms and holding your head against his chest, his arms covering your face from the light, while his cool metal arm was pressed firmly against your forehead to ease the pain. "M'here y/n, you're okay, you're okay"

He rocked you, not moving from the floor while whispering in your ear, hoping the pain would pass quickly.

"Jamie, it hurts" You whimpered, clutching onto his Henley, the scent of his body wash calming you down. Bucky froze, not saying a word, his heart hammering against his chest at what you'd just called him.

Could that mean-

"Do-do you want to go lie down sweets?" Bucky spoke carefully, feeling you nod, still staying tucked against him. He carried you up to your room, only to have you shake your head as best as you could, wanting to go to his room instead.

"Just want to sleep for a bit baby, please?" you pleaded with him, hardly realizing the tears that were now streaming down his face as he made his way down to his room instead. He was your Jamie, your baby, you were finally coming back to him. Bucky pulled back the covers, setting you down carefully before climbing in with you when you tugged his wrist. Your eyes were still closed, the throbbing in your head slowly dissipating though not gone entirely as you snuggled against his chest, letting out a content sigh.

"Bucky?"

"Yes doll"

"I remember"

-

Bucky stirred awake to the sound of a whimper, his brows knitting together into a frown when he felt your body tremble in his hold.

"What is it baby?" Bucky's deep sleep laced voice carried through the darkness as he pulled you closer, soothing your sniffles. "Why are you crying darling, c'mere"

"Y-you didn't give up on me" Your emotions got the best of you, remembering everything from the moment everything went dark, to the panicked voices around you to the way Bucky had stayed by your side through it all, nursing you back to health while his own heart was hurting.

"Never doll, I'd never give up on you" Bucky said sincerely, kissing your forehead while stroking your hair, "How could I when I love you to much"

"But I-I didn't remember you-you still love me?" you whispered, feeling guilty that it had taken you so long to regain you memories and feeling more guilty that you couldn't remember Bucky for so long.

"Y/n, angel, I'd love you no matter what, do you have any idea how badly I wanted to tell you that for these past few weeks? That's all I wanted to do baby, just hold you and tell you how much I adore you-

You couldn't put into words how much love you had for him in that moment, cutting him off with your lips pressed onto his. The kiss grew more needy, hands desperately grabbing each other; you needed Bucky to know just how much you loved him too, feel every bit of what you couldn't say with words.

"Baby, let me- Bucky was ready to take care of you but that wasn't what the night was about. Not after all he'd done for you.

"No" You shook your head, gently pushing Bucky to lay on his back, straddling yourself on top of him, "Let me take care of you for taking care of me" you murmured against his lips before pressing them against his heated skin, tracing your tongue along the column of his neck. "Please Jamie, let me show you"

"D-doll-I-I can-

"Just let me Sergeant, please" You shimmed out of your oversized t-shirt before slipping your thumbs into the waistband of his briefs, puling them down, leaving him perfectly bare under you. Bucky wasn't typically a shy person but the way you gazed at him with such love made him blush, his thighs tensing when you settling yourself between them.

"Sweetheart you don't have to-oh-f-fuckkk" His words melted into a deep moan, feeling your lips wrap around the swollen head of his cock, your tongue probing his slit, lapping up every bit of precum that dripped out.

You worshipped his cock with your mouth and tongue, making him feel pleasure like never before, your hand softly rubbing and rolling his balls. You pulled off with a pop just to dip your head lower, nursing on his heavy sack, the slutty, needy moans he was letting out growing louder.

"B-Baby, g'nna cum if you don't stop" His thighs spread apart further for you, back nearly arching off the bed as you licked a thick stripe from his balls to the tip of his cock, crawling back up his body to line your soaking cunt up with his length.

"Please y/n" Bucky blinked at you with glassy, lustful eyes, rutting his hips up to feel more of you, his hands flying to your thighs, needing to touch you.

"Anything for you baby" you cooed, gasping at the feeling of his tip catching against your hole, throwing your head back as you began to sink down on his cock, the both of you moaning together at the feeling of him stretching you open.

You began to grind your hips down on him, your clit rubbing against the curly hair at the base of his cock before slowly picking you pace up, your hands resting on his chest for leverage.

"Feel's so good princess" Bucky's eyes rolled back as you started to bounce up and down, practically squealing each time you slammed yourself back down, obscene squelching noises filling the room.

"You deserve it sergeant" you whimpered, letting Bucky's hands roam your body, grabbing and pinching your nipples, your tight cunt squeezing his cock.

"C'mere baby, c'mere please" Bucky pleaded, pulling you down to his chest and wrapping his arms around you, planting his feet against the bed so he could fuck up into you, "Fuck that's it, mark me up!"

Bucky could feel you nip and suck on his neck hard enough to leave bruises, your words starting to slur as you both got closer and closer to your highs.

"F-fuck I love you!" you cried out, biting down hard on Bucky's shoulder as you started to cum, the head of his cock hitting your g-spot with each thrust, his pace growing sloppy.

"I-I love you princess, I love you so much-God m'gonna cum-fuck-s'so much for you-HNGG" He clung onto you like his life depended on it, shoving his cock in as deep as it would go, ropes of his warm spend shooting into you.

"I love you so much Jamie" your pussy clenched around his softening cock making him jolt, the both of you panting, pressing light kisses on sweat slicked skin. "Fell in love with you twice Sergeant"

Bucky blushed before throwing you a cocky smirk, still feeling happiness beyond what words could explain having you in his arms again.

"I'll always love you" Bucky whispered before pulling the covers up over both of you once again, staying deep inside you as you started to drift off to sleep, "No matter what"

[mischieveousmayhem]

can I request a kenma fluff? where the reader is getting hit on but reader is letting the person to hit on her/them on purpose to see his reaction?? Thank you!!! I hope your account grows soon!

jealous setter

Pairing: Kenma x Fem!Reader / platonic! noya x reader

Synopsis: Y/N can never seem to get her lovers attention until one day she has a devious plan that involves some of her lovers peers.

Genre: Slight Angst to fluff

A/N: im slow at updating and i apologize but i have seen all your requests and im trying to go through as fast as possible!

—

Everyday it seems like it was getting harder and harder to get her boyfriend's attention. Y/N just wanted time with him but between school, volleyball, and their personal lives it was so hard to get him to even speak more than two words to her. Although she manages the Nekoma's Boys Volleyball Team, she doesn't get anytime to speak to him because they are busy.

Now, the Volleyball team were currently on the way to the summer training camp. Y/N sat next to her boyfriend who was currently asleep. As much as she wanted to wake him and have a conversation with him, she knew he needed his rest for the next few days. So as she waited for the team to arrive at the destination, she did some of her paperwork.

When they arrived at their destination, Kenma didn't yap a word to her, he instead when to Kuroo and started talking.

"It's probably important.." She whispered to herself.

—

Sitting on a bench out of the way of everyone, she ate small bites of her food. She wasn't quite hungry at the moment, she just wanted her boyfriend. Although they had time to relax and just talk, Kenma was over near some blonde headed setter and Kuroo.

As much as she would walk up, she won't. She didn't want to seem annoying or anything. She knew Kenma was shy , around her a lot too because he loves her so much. But sometimes the way it feels like he avoids her is too much.

Deep in thought she sighed while setting her food to the side. About to stand up she sees two guys appear in front of her, a short one and a tall one.

"It's like I'm looking at heaven!" The two say at once.

—

From afar as Kenma was talking to Tsukishima and Kuroo he spots his girlfriend sitting alone.. until she wasn't.

He saw two guys appear in front of her and he had this weird feeling in his body. It's not love. It's kind of like he's mad except he's not?

He's..jealous!

Spacing out while staring at the two.

Tanaka and Nishinoya.

They have never seen or met Y/N before because the last time Nekoma faced Karasuno, Y/N wasn't Nekoma's manager. But he knew how Tanaka and Nishinoya was over women so watching them gush over his precious girlfriend from a distance irked him.

But he didn't know what to do so he just stared. Lost in his thoughts he drowned out Tsukishima and Kuroo while looking at the scene that was happening in front of him.

—

Y/N's face was red, she didn't know how to respond to that.

"You're so beautiful!" The short one says.

"Yeah , you are! But who are you? We have never seen you?" Says the taller one.

Y/N was flustered. She felt more eyes on her though but when she looked up she saw Kenma glaring. That is when she had the most masterful plan ever.

Looking up at smiling at the two, "I'm Y/N L/N, I recently became Nekoma's manager! How about you two? Care to introduce yourselves?" She smiled, almost too smiley.

"That's Tanaka ", the short one pointed to his friend , "and I'm Nishinoya but you can call me yours !" he pointed proudly at himself.

It took you a minute to process it, but when you did you felt your cheeks heat up. All you did was giggle before responding, "That was smooth!"

—

"Kenma!" Kuroo finally snapped Kenma out his thoughts, "What are you thinking about to deeply that I had to basically scream your name."

"It appears he's looking at those two idiots next to that tiny thing that appears to be a girl." Tsukki pointed at Y/N who was talking to Nishinoya and Tanaka.

"Ohhh...well you know that's his girlfriend." Kuroo replied.

"Not for much longer with the way Noya is flirting with her." Tsukki smirked as he saw Tanaka left to go to Kiyoko while Noya was still making Y/N flustered.

"What." That is all Kenma uttered before looking at Tsukki.

"If you want to keep your girl , you should probably go up to her and walk her away from Noya." Kuroo says.

"It's fine , she'll walk away." Kenma replies.

"Kenma, dude. You have to do something."

"She's fine Kuroo."

"Is she though?"

Kenma raised a brow, "Huh?"

"You do realize you never speak to her or anything I mean I wouldn't blame her if she likes the attention she's getting from Noya because you ignore her so much." Kuroo puts a hand on Kenma's shoulder.

"Ignoring your own girlfriend is crazy, Noya would never do that to her." Tsukki snickered under his breath.

Perhaps Kuroo was right? It's been a while since him and Y/N had more than a two word conversation. But he didn't know how to act around her—

He snapped out his thoughts when he heard your laughter.

Not a giggle.

A full blown laugh.

You never laughed that hard around him. Enough was enough. He stood up and marched over and put his arm around his girlfriends shoulder, he didn't say anything he looked down so no one could see his flustered look.

"Oh! You're dating Kenma?" Noya looks defeated.

Playing dumb Y/N responds, "Yeah..I thought you were playfully flirting after all I'm not that gorgeous!"

"You too are cute though. I apologize Kenma for hitting on your girlfriend!" Noya bows before bouncing off to find Tanaka.

After he knows Noya walked away , Kenma looks at you in your eyes.

With your eyes locked he speaks softly, "I'm sorry for not paying enough attention to you , I don't try to ignore you on purpose—"

He's cut off when Y/N leans in and kisses him, their lips lock for a solid five seconds before she breaks it.

"It's okay! I got my payback by letting Noya flirt with me so I could get your attention."

"Okay..wait..what?"

"Oh, nothing! Now we have a lot to catch up on!" Y/N takes his hand and drags him to a place where she can just talk to him with no interruptions.

[kyliafanfiction]

Babylon 5: Born to the purple (finally having time to do this on the day)

*The whole 'G'kar is a horndog' thing gets kind of ignored after Season 1, which does make sense (it sort of comes back in Season 5, for one scene), but it was a thing earlier on, including in this line where G'kar agrees with 'all things in live females are the greatest'

*K'odath's disbelief that G'kar would be there raises questions about Narn society and G'kar's repuation back home *God, this episode hits harder in Hindsight *I love how Arcy B5 got later on, but I also like the opening to Season 1, because it lent itself to the more episodic feel of Season 1

*Oh yeah, this is the episode with Ivanova using Gold Channel

*Vir's use of the weird Gameboy like thing is hilarious. We never see that again, probably because he learns to do it back in his quarters. *B5 throws words like 'Sector' and 'Quadrant' around without much of a real sense of place and size. No clarity as to where these places are. *This episode tells us so much about Centauri society, and really drives home where Londo sits at this point. *MOON FACED ASSASSIN OF JOY *I don't think I've ever noticed the narn playing Vir's game before when I've watched this episode. *G'kar being so thrown by Londo's Mood *THIS ASSHOLE. And plot thickens. *God, it's so heartwarming though, how much he cares about her. This is not just some 'I want a pretty woman' thing. He really does love her *Londo's password is so very him at this point in his life. *I just wish Talia had been taken to dinner by Ivanova here. *cries in shipper* *Ivanova being protective of her console feels so in-character you forget... *"Figment of your demented imagination" *I do feel like Mollari's cipher should have requried a specific tone too, but I guess a voiceprint is pretty secure *Don't Give Away The Homeworld :rofl: *"get your feet moist" I love it when Londo and Vir get earth sayings wrong *Just a casual use of a tazer in public *I get that slavery is legal in Centauri space, but how is it legal on B5?

*damn that is a fancy bug. *Trakkis, when a man says "get out" in that tone, you GET OUT

*Vir walks in with such a swagger *Negotiating via subordinates is hardly unheard of G'kar. *"Don't give away the homeworld" *You know, I get it's conservation of Characters, but these Ambassadors really do need bigger diplomatic staff. And more competent ones. Ones you can actually trust to do the job *Then I hurt Him *"My good and dear friend" ah, Londo of this season. Such a decent guy, in a lot of ways. :rofl: *Londo's failure to talk the guy around is hilarious. But sinclair's deceptions *And here it is. The other key backstory element for Ivanova **cries* fuck. *Sinclair's strategem is so risky, I'm surprised there were no downsides. *"Coming from you Ambassador, that's a real compliment" *And the thing is, Talia has a point. The Psicorps rules about these things are there for a good reason. But this is one of those things where you'd think warrants could exist. But apparently there just is no room for that? *Not that they could get a warrant in this context but *I do love the 'don't think of an elephant' trick she pulls on him *G'kar saved Londo's career, and he's gotta hide that fact so much. :rofl: *I do wonder what exactly is in those Purple Files *I love that Garibaldi knows not to press her about it. Just "it won't happen again" *God, Londo... the ending.

[covenofwives]

Laughter; How It Used To Be

Dream's out of prison. George has feelings about it but he can't decide which ones are his and which he's been told to feel. Perhaps some tickling can help sort out the mess.

The next part in the God Sibling AU story. Finally it's here and we get this ball rolling again.

Hope you all enjoy!

---

George was a heavy sleeper by choice. Well… Half choice. He’d say it was truly a fifty-fifty matter on whether he chose to sleep and when the sleep just took him. Mostly. Maybe. Probably. Well…depending.

Point being was that George slept a lot so of course he’d miss a lot of stuff going on. Apparently, during his sleep, he had missed the biggest shock to the SMP.

Sapnap had came to George’s home and unceremoniously woke him up with the news that Dream had been broken out of prison. He was loose on the server. Sapnap went on to explain and assure George that the kingdom would be safe, and Sapnap was strengthening up the security and the kingdom would have nothing to fear, but George couldn’t hear that part.

All he could hear, repeating over and over in his head, was that Dream was free.

The server was then in a frenzy. Half of the people fortifying their homes, and the other half actively searching for Dream, though not for kind reasons. There was a mix of differing voices about Dream, though the majority of it was spat like venom and condemning his name, and very few that were “positive” to him were just more indifferent.

George was just trying to figure out where his opinions fell exactly, and then Dream showed up at his front door.

He was not at all the Dream he remembered. He was hunched over with a heavy fur cloak around his shoulders. His skin was pale and freckle-less, hair was dishevelled and longer than it had ever been and he was shivering. His bright green eyes looked up to George with an silent plea.

George wordlessly stepped aside, and Dream came in.

The next week went by in a quick blur. George’s first course of action was to cover all the windows, keeping curtains drawn shut. Dream hadn’t asked him to do it. In fact Dream hadn’t said anything to him. The first thing Dream did when he stepped through the door was drop his fur cloak, and then drop onto George’s bed and instantly fall asleep.

It turned into a weird reverse situation for their sleeping schedules. George didn’t have a great sleeping pattern to begin with, but now instead of having near coma-like sleeps, he was down to taking quick naps on the couch when he could. Dream, who would usually be a light sleeper,  spent nearly all week in bed.

The blonde fugitive would sleep, wake up for less than an hour to stumble into the kitchen and eat, then would crawl back into bed again and repeat the cycle. Sometimes when he woke, the two men would cross paths in George’s small cottage and they’d give affirming hums to one another before going on their way.

George badly wanted to talk with Dream. He wanted to ask him all sorts of questions and promise him all sorts of things and just try and make sense of the knotted emotions that tied in his heart, but it was clear that conversation wouldn’t be happening now. Even when he was awake Dream looked in a trance. He worked on a sole mission of “consume” before falling back to sleep as soon as his head would hit the pillow.

Whatever Dream had gone through in the prison was hard enough that he needed this long recharge. It wasn’t about avoiding George. These were the thoughts George told himself to keep himself sane. By about the third day of this, the small seed of resentment grew in George’s chest as did the feeling of being used, but he quickly crushed those ideas. He was already hiding a wanted man, there was no point in making it any harder for himself.

During one of George’s quick midnight naps on the couch, an unusual sound awoke him. The brunette woke up feeling painful and confused. It took a few blinks before he realised where he was and then a few more to realise what the sound was that woke him.

Screaming. Dream screaming. Dream screaming his name.

George’s mind acted faster than his body could. In his planned move he jumped up from the couch and raced to Dream’s side. What actually happened was George got up too fast and tripped. Still overwhelmed with adrenaline, he scrambled up to his feet and ran, crashing into the door frame.

The first thing that came to George’s mind was Dream was in danger. Someone had somehow came into the cottage and got him and George had failed. But thankfully, that was not the case.

Dream was alone in the room, still asleep and weakly thrashing over the bed. He was getting himself tangled up in the sheets and blankets and every once in a while his hand reached out and he screamed for George’s name.

This wasn’t the first time George had to wake Dream from a nightmare, but this was the first time the nightmare seemed so much more intense. George crossed the distance from the door to the bed, dodging one of Dream’s waving arms and pushing his own hand forward to shake the blonde’s shoulder.

“Dream! It’s just a nightmare, wake up.”

“G-George…!” Dream’s voice sounded less slurred with sleep. It was almost a gasp. His eyebrows tightened together, his mind fighting with itself to decide what was the dream and what was real. “Nnn…”

“It’s okay, Dream. It’s just a nightmare. Look, you’re waking up. See? Come back up, Dream.”

The words reached into Dream’s head, soothing something in him. When his arms stopped waving, George reached his other hand forward and brushed through his blonde hair. That was the final push for Dream’s mind and, though very slowly and carefully, Dream opened his tear filled eyes and blinked to George above him.

“There…” George said softly, his hand not stopping his petting. “See, it was just a dream. You’re safe.”

Dream’s chest rose and fell with shaky breaths, though it was hard to tell if it was from the shock of being awake or from his crying. He blinked again, letting a tear fall down his cheek as his eyes flicked to every object in the room.

When something in Dream’s head finally clicked that he was awake, he let out one last shaky sigh. “George…”

“You woke me up, idiot.” George softly smiled. The phrase came out so easily, as if the two hadn’t just had a week of self-imposed silence. Part of George worried maybe it wasn’t the right thing to say, but Dream’s face lit up into a weak smile, and George’s heart was eased.

“Sorry…” Dream turned his head back to lay on the pillow. His eyes flickered back and forward before turning his head back to George. No longer dim, his eyes sparkled with an alertness George hadn’t seen in…well almost a year. “Where were you sleeping?”

The question seemed obvious to George. If he wasn’t in the bed, then the only place he could sleep comfortably was the couch, but something held back that sarcastic snap. It was like Dream seemed to really be awake and realised where he was; not just in an aimless trance his body put itself in to heal.

“Well… I’ve been on the couch for the past few nights now…” George replied awkwardly. He realised he was still petting through Dream’s hair and he stopped.

Dream pulled a troubled face at the answer but then before George could ask what the look was for, Dream shuffled back onto the bed. His back was close to the wall when he stopped, making a space more than big enough for George.

It must have been the call for a good night’s rest pulling at George because he silently climbed into the bed without any question or fuss. The blankets and sheets were still warm and when his head hit the pillow, George sighed in near bliss.

“Sorry…didn’t realise I was taking up your bed.”

“It’s alright.” George half shrugged. “You probably need it more.”

A thick silence blanketed over the two. It was awkward, made more so by George turning to Dream, looking towards him while Dream was staring up at the ceiling and trying so hard not to let his eyes slip and look at George.

George couldn’t take the silence another moment, thinking of anything he could possibly say and ended up blurting out the first thing in his head.

“What was your nightmare about?”

There was a much better way to word it, but those proper words didn’t come to George’s head at the time. Luckily Dream didn’t seemed to mind.

“I dreamt I was back in the prison.” He admitted. “Well…that’s not true. I wasn’t taken back to  the prison. It was like I’d woken up in the prison. As if all this, the escape, coming to you, being here, was the dream. And I freaked out.”

“You were screaming for me.” George added in, making Dream turn his head towards him. “That’s what woke me.”

“I was screaming for you in the nightmare too.” Dream admitted sheepishly.

George almost wished for the silence back. His cheeks flushed a pink blush and the space between Dream and himself suddenly seemed a whole lot smaller. There was a time when this closeness between the two was casual. Almost expected. Now it felt so alien to George and his nerves were too jumbled for him to ask if he really minded it or not.

“You never visited me…”

George pulled his eyes back up to Dream’s. His eyes were like cat’s, almost glowing in the dark room, watching George’s every move.

“It was too sad…” George admitted. “I’d have to leave you in there.” He watched Dream’s eyes for any sign the answer angered him or maybe quelled his questions.

But Dream’s eyes betrayed nothing. He looked between George’s mismatched eyes then down to the bed. “It probably would have hurt to see you leave…”

George wasn’t sure if he should say ‘sorry’, or if a sorry would even do much at this point. “I’m glad you’re here now though.”

Dream’s eyes lit up brighter, sparkled with hope. He shuffled himself closer, and brought his hand up between the two of them. He lay it over the bed with his palm up, fingers slightly opened. George reacted on instinct and brought his own hand up, lancing his fingers and setting his palm over Dream’s.

A wave of familiarity and ease washed over George and melted away the doubt. He instantly remembered a younger time when he, Dream and Sapnap would sleep in this way. All of them just wanting to be safe and close. George would fall asleep to the sound of both their heartbeats in his ear. His hand enclosed by both of theirs. When it was just the three of them, and nothing to worry about. When they still loved one another.

George couldn’t even begin to work out what Sapnap’s feelings were, but with his hand in Dream’s he absolutely understood his own. The doubt and pretending to decide how he felt about his friend were gone, melted away with the warmth against his palm. Feeling warm, safe and loved.

He could only hope Dream was feeling something similar. The taller man was smiling, looking at George’s hand as his thumb brushed along the back of it. When the digit made a swiped along George’s knuckle, George noticed the scar along Dream’s thumb.

It broke him out of the happy bliss. Dream was no stranger to scars but this one was new, one George hadn’t seen and he realised the scar there wasn’t the only new one. There were scars along the sides of Dream’s palm, and even some of the skin on his palm was rougher than George remembered.

“You’ve got scars…” George felt himself speak before thinking. The words clearly effected Dream.

His fingers tried to close and hide, but it was hard being blocked by George’s hand. “I’ve always had scars.”

“Those ones are new.” George pointed out. He unlaced his fingers with Dream’s but only to take the hand to inspect it more. There was a deep scar on the knuckle of Dream’s thumb and another along the back of his hand. George eyes seemed to follow a never ending trail of scars, on Dream’s hand, leading to his wrist, leading along his arm and then up his shoulder.

Living out in the wild was dangerous, but these new scars were pinker and more obvious. They hadn’t been made by an accident or wild animal, these were put on deliberately.

“What happened…?” George’s question came out in a single breath.

“Prison.” Dream replied, his voice losing the softness and warmth.

“These look really fresh.” George’s trailed off in his thoughts without thinking. He examined the one on Dream’s bicep, leading to his shoulder and wondered how many were along his back. “Did you get them treated? Did…”

He caught sight of Dream’s green eyes dimming, pulling him back into some sick memory so George quickly sat up.

“I’ve got some cream we can put on them. It’ll help sooth them.” George’s voice suddenly jumped up to alert and he watched the clouded memory snap out of the green eyes. Dream might have given a nod, but George was already shuffling off the bed for the cream.

When the brunette came back, Dream had shuffled himself off and taken a seat beside the bed. The old and torn vest he wore was now crumpled in his hands and he turned his head up to George when he stepped through the doorway.

“I was thinking; the ones on my arms are old by now. I don’t think they’ll do much but…” Dream’s arm reached up touching over his shoulder. “The ones on my back are fresher if…if you could get them...”

George was stunned for a moment and paused before eventually remembering he could speak. “Y-Yeah. Of course.”

It was an awkward moment of silence, as George shuffled in behind Dream, but once he was in position, Dream leaned forward and George got to work.

Whatever image George had in his head for the scars on Dream’s back were worse than what it really was. There was a very nasty scar that followed the curve of Dream’s shoulder, which George saw from the other side, but there wasn’t many other scars and they weren’t nearly as deep. While they were definitely newer, probably less than a month, George pushed that thought aside, and readied the cream on his fingers.

There was a very audible yip as the cream touched the skin of Dream’s shoulder blade. Despite Dream’s attempt to cut off his scream, George heard it so clearly and giggled.

“Sh-Shuhush!” Dream snapped but his shoulders were shaking with his chuckle. “I-It’s cold alright!”

“Well of course it’s cold, idiot.” George huffed fondly. “Try and stay still.”

Dream sounded like he wanted to say more, but he kept quiet and to his credit he kept still for the rest of the scar. When the initial shock of the cold passed, it was easier to deal with.

When George was finished with the first scar, he quickly moved onto the next. A long line running from the top of Dream’s shoulder blade to the other. George gave him a warning this time before starting, and Dream only shuddered a little.

“You know, this reminds me of us when we first started hanging out.” Dream spoke softly. George gave a hum, just letting Dream know he heard him but kept silent. “You, Sapnap and me just wandering around. And we’d always get injured. So every night we’d be tending to each others wounds.” Dream chuckled. “Mostly me and Sapnap. You’d be practically untouched and have to help us.”

George smiled softly, only feeling confident enough to do it because Dream was turned away. “I was only untouched because you protected me. You took all my hits.”

“I tried protecting Sap too, but that idiot just ran into everything.”

“You protected him sometimes. A lot of times actually.” George reminded as he got more cream on his fingers. “Most of the times I remember it was me and Sapnap treating you.”

“Well, I can certainly take more hits than yo-OHOHOU!”

Dream jumped, his back going straight and then arching as George’s fingers touched him again. The brunette quickly pulled back, scared he had touched on a scar that was still a wound. “I’m sorry! What? What happened?”

It took a moment before Dream spoke again. He first let out a shaky breath that made guilt grow in the pit of George’s stomach, but then he heard Dream’s voice.

“N-nohothing ha-happened. I-It’s was juhust cold… That’s all…”

The blonde’s voice evened out to the end. His shoulders relaxed again and he sat up straight. George let out a low hum, but only to hide the smile that would surely be heard in his words. When the goosebumps calmed down from Dream’s back, George went back in with the cream. This time he was very careful over the scar, making his touch firm and he could hear the sigh of relief from Dream. With that scar done, George carried on.

“You know, Dream.” George spoke when he controlled the giddiness welling up in his chest. “I always remembered me and Sapnap having to treat your wounds. Even when Sapnap got hurt, we’d both have to treat you.”

“Yeah?” Dream slightly turned his head, but not enough to look back at George. “Well, I mean, sometimes…”

“I remember it more than sometimes.” George spread more of the cream on his fingers. “I remember I’d have to quickly patch up Sap, and then he’d have to help me with you.”

He merely touched on the next scar, which followed around the curve of Dream’s ribs, and Dream stiffened. The smile curved back up to George’s lips then.

“Y-Yeah?” Dream’s voice wobbled. George could see his neck strain with his worried gulp.

“You remember why, right?”

Of course he did. George knew the answer before Dream even had to say anything. His skin shuddered under George’s fingers and prickled with goosebumps again.

“G-Geohorge…”

“It’s cause you were sooooo sensitive that you’d squirm away whenever we’d get a bad spot. So one of us always had to hold you down.”

Dream opened his mouth, but whatever excuse he had was cut off by the squeal that came out. George’s fingers merely tweaked into his ribs and Dream was already shuddering and giggling. He tried shuffling himself away, but George grabbed his shoulder.

“G-Geohohorge… D-Dohon’t!”

“You remember that really bad spot on your stomach, Dream?” George’s voice went high with his giddiness.

“N-Noho!”

“Sure you do!” George giggled. “You got a cut right on your stomach and we had to treat it. You were so giggly and struggled so much. Sapnap had to practically lie on top of you!”

Dream  made a break for it then. He jumped forward, but George was quick. The hand over the blond’s shoulder gripped on tight and George followed forward.

The two fell into a tumble on the floor. Dream scrambled to get to his feet but with George laying over him and pushing him down he had no luck.

“I think we should check on that scar, Dream!” George giggled, overwhelmed with his giddy energy. “Lets see how it’s doing!”

“N-NohohO! GEOHohorge! Ge-ehet ohOHOHOFF!”

“Come on! Come on!”

A very half hearted scuffle erupted between the two. George knew he had no strength to actually hold Dream down, but what he lacked in strength he made up for with being a literal gremlin. For each time Dream managed to wrestle his arm or shoulder away, George got another good hold of it. Not always in the same spot, but the struggle started all over again.

Dream had a very brilliant plan to lie on his stomach and protect himself that way. He managed to get free from George’s hands for just a second but that was all he needed to lay flat on the floor, hands gripped to the carpet. George jumped on his back as expected and the blonde couldn’t help but give a triumphant laugh.

The moment was rather short-lived, however. While George did give a frustrated whine, instead of giving up he instead got an evil glint in his eye and he pressed his chest to Dream’s back again.

It was too late by the time Dream felt it. George hand had snaked it’s way between the carpet and Dream, and was now slithering it’s way towards his stomach.

“Gehehohohohorge! STAHAHAHAP!”

Dream moved to the side to allow his arm to reach in and grab George’s. Big mistake. George used the momentum to pull Dream further back. The taller boy yelped as he was pulled onto his back, and George quickly climbed over him.

“GEOHOHOHORGE!”

“There it is! THERE IT IS!”

Dream’s tummy quivered with this nervous giggles. While there were a few scars around Dream’s stomach, there was only one really on his stomach. It lay on the side of his stomach and curved in close towards his belly button. It was almost hilarious how Dream remembered nothing of the pain with it, but he could vividly remember the treatment of it. It had tickled madly, and now as George jumped over him and dug his fingers over the scar it tickled again.

Nerves that hadn’t even been thought about for a year suddenly awakened with fireworks all throughout his body.

Dream’s back arched up with a high pitched squeal that descended into helpless cackles and pleas for mercy. George lay over his chest, using Dream’s weakened state to hold him down and absolutely destroy his belly with scratchy scribbling tickles as his other arm pinned down Dream’s weak limbs.

“GeheoHOHOHORGE!!!”

“Look at it! Still so sensitive! Just a sensitive little belly like always!”

“PLEHEHEAHASE!”

“I don’t think people would be so scared of you if they knew just a few tickles on your tummy makes you so helpless! I think you might have gotten even more ticklish!”

The taunt hit straight into Dream’s pride, lighting a fire in his belly and pushing through the wave of ticklish electricity coursing through him. Spurred on by spite, Dream pulled one of his arms out from under George’s legs and wrapped it around George’s middle.

Dream squeezed up and down the soft tickly side. Partly a mistake as it just pushed George further up, squishing Dream’s face, but it faltered his tickling fingers, and gave Dream enough time to gather his strength and push him off completely.

The brunette just about rolled onto his side when Dream tackled into him. His hands went straight for his sides again, squeezing, skittering and kneading up and down from his ribs to his hips. The triumph was greatly short lived as George’s hand shot up, digging right into his stomach again. He didn’t get the scar, but the didn’t really have to. George’s hand formed a claw and scribbled back and forth over Dream’s tummy which brought back the cackling, boisterous laughter and faltered his own attack.

The two rolled around in a very scuffed and weak tickle fight. Both of them felt the pulls of exhaustion so couldn’t deliver the finishing blow, but both of them were spurred on by stubbornness to not be the first one to give up. Dream felt confident he could outlast George. He had more strength and stamina but when George’s hand kneaded along his tummy, just under his bellybutton, his arms were suddenly jelly and his own hands went from attack to defence.

“STOHOHOP! StohOHOHOP! G-GeheoHOHORGE! IHIHI GIHIHIVE!”

George stopped only for a moment. With Dream’s strength suddenly gone, the smaller man used the chance to push Dream off and onto his back. George straddled over his waist, and moving quickly to pull Dream’s arms down and hold them under his legs.

“WAHAIT! W-Wahait! Geohorge! L-Lihistehen! Listehen!”

“I’m listening, Dream.” George chuckled. A deviously brilliant feeling crawled up George’s spine. A rush of power he so rarely had. He just placed his fingers over Dream’s belly so lightly and the usually stronger man was a fluster and sputtering out pleas and mercy.

“NOHO! N-NO! W-Wahait a m-minute George - haha! H-Hohold on!”

“I’m not doing anything, Dream.” George pointed out calmly. His fingers had not moved at all. They were barely even touching Dream’s stomach. They hovered above the quivering tummy, unmoving but the threat alone made the blonde sweat and shiver.

“J-Just dohon’t. Oh-Ohokay! I gihive uhup! Yohou win!”

George hummed. He drummed his fingers over Dream’s tummy in thought, pulling an embarrassingly high squeal from him which decended into nervous giggles. It didn’t exactly tickle but it made his nerves overly sensitive.

“I don’t think that’s enough, Dream. I think if you finally admit that I’m stronger then that’d be you giving up.”

“WHAHAT?! Noho!” Dream’s smile pulled between trying to make a face of disbelief and nervous giggling. “Y-Yohour not thohohough!”

“Well, I dunno, I am on top of you right now which is a show of strength.” George nodded to his point while Dream shook his head.

“N-No! Yohou’re not yohohou’re nohohot!”

“Well that doesn’t sound like giving up.” George fingers softly began to scratching. His nails just lightly brushed over the blonde’s quivering belly.

“W-WAhahait! GeohOHOhoHORGE!”

“That actually sounds like you’re disagreeing with me. Meaning you’ve not really given up.” George’s fingers crawled closer to the centre, to Dream’s bellybutton and the laughter kicked up to a shriek.

“NOHOHO! PLEASE! GEORGE! STOHOHOOHOP! D-DOHOHON’T TIHICKLE ME THEHEHEHERE!”

“You better admit it then!”

George tried to squeeze in as much of his fingers as he could around Dream’s bellybutton. Just skittering around the edge, each finger fought for space to scratch and tickle which of course meant every once in a while some of them dipped in and scratched ever so gently into the bellybutton.

The brunette could feel the jolts of ticklish electricity coursing through Dream with each slip. His legs kicked out, back arched and his head threw back against the floor in a laugh that mixed between silent and screaming to the high heveans.

“IHIHI GIHIHIVE!” Dream gasped, taking in gulps of air between the laughter rocking his body. “YOHOHOUR STROHONGER YOHOU AHAHRE! PLEHEHEHEASE!”

The tickling slowed to a stop then, Dream’s laughter fading out as George’s triumphant cackles got louder. As soon as he felt the other roll off him, Dream curled in on himself to shake out his ghostly tickles still fluttering over his belly. George carried on his taunting, proudly proclaiming himself as the strongest between them with valid proof.

“Yohou’re such an ihidiot.” He huffed and rubbed the last of the ticklish electricity out of him. “I’m just tired. That’s why you won.”

“Tired after sleeping for a week, hmm…” George’s voice squeaked with giddy delight. “You’ve become soft.” He proved his point by sending a few pokes into Dream’s side, which shot through the blonde fugitive instantly.

“Sh-shuhuhut uhup!” Dream hit George’s hands away and rolled himself to sit up. “You’re an ihidiot.”

George giggled to the affectionate insult. The words were warm and said with a fond smile.

The mood calmed into silence, but it wasn’t an awkward one. Dream shuffled himself back up onto the bed and George followed suit. They lay with their hands clasped together again and despite the pulls of sleep calling to them both, George broke the silence with the question that had been on his mind since Dream arrived.

“What are you going to do now?”

The hand around George’s tightened for a split second. He could feel the anxiety coursing through the touch.

“I have plans.” Dream answered carefully.

“Can I know them?”

Silence came back again. It felt like it lasted for so long until Dream moved. He unlaced his fingers with George’s and pushed himself up. George held back the whine for the missing warmth as Dream reached down over the side and under the bed. There was a ‘pop’ of a block being destroyed and then Dream hoisted up a bag.

George didn’t remember Dream coming with the bag, but there was no way Dream had left to retrieve it so he must have hidden it in his inventory when he arrived.

Dream sat up and placed the bag over his lap. George pushed himself up onto his elbows just as the bag was opened. It was just a simple shoulder bag, not big at all, but it was filled with what looked like ender pearls. Dream took one of them out, and George realised they weren’t just ender pearls.

They looked almost like ender eyes, like the kinds used to make an ender chest, but somehow they were different. These ones pulsated and breathed in Dream’s palm, like they were somehow alive but that had to be impossible. They were still glass, but the colours inside them were moving, as though they were forever sinking down into the slit pupil of it.

The things were almost hypnotic to look at and George seemed stuck staring into them until Dream pulled it away and placed it back into the bag where it joined the others like it.

“I’m planning something big.” Dream broke the silence. “Real big. I’m going to a stronghold, and I’m going to the End.”

George couldn’t help the dramatic gasp that came from him. “You can’t!” He pushed himself to sit up. “XD’s destroyed all the strongholds.”

“No. He destroyed the ones closest to us. He hasn’t gotten them all. I’ve got the coords of a stronghold with a portal frame still intact. It’s miles and miles away from everything, but it works.”

“How?!” George felt himself babble as disbelief took him more and more. “How do you know? How did you even get those…things?”

The blonde shuffled the bag awkwardly and placed it off his lap. “A friend helped me. Look, that doesn’t matter-”

“A friend? Who? Can you trust they didn’t just give you fake numbers?”

“No! I mean yes they-UGH! George! It’s legit, look!” Dream held up the bag again and shook it. “They went through the trouble of making these. These are banned, XD would smite anyone on sight for thinking about making them but they did it. Why go through all that to give fake coords?”

“So you’d be caught holding the illegal items.” George mumbled, though Dream of course heard it. He made a huffed noise and placed the bags harshly down onto the floor. The sound of the glass hitting one another rang in George’s ears for longer than it should have. “If XD find out what you’re doing… If he finds out you escaped...”

“XD doesn’t give a rat’s ass what I do!” Dream spat with such venom that George flinched back. “Maybe they’ve figured out I’ve escaped but they’re not going to catch me. I doubt they’re even caring to look for me.”

George’s eyes flicked to the end of the bed where the bag lay. A sickly feeling was starting to brew in his stomach and twist like a hurricane.

“I’ve got it worked out.” Dream spoke softer than usual. “I’m not going to rethink this. I’ve thought about it from all angles and it’s the best plan.” He looked over to George, his green eyes shining through the darkness. “If… After it’s done I’d…like it if I could have a place to stay again…”

George blinked and looked back to Dream. “Yes. But it’s probably best we build somewhere closer to the stronghold.”

Green eyes fluttered with a series of confused blinks. “Closer to it?” Dream’s eyebrow cocked up. “‘We’? George, what-?”

“Cause I’m coming with you.”

[bolton-buried]

Statement of Jackie Crow, regarding a “deep puddle.” Statement taken direct from subject, May 21st, 2024. Statement begins.

It wasn’t even supposed to be raining that day. I don’t know why that stands out to me so much, but it shouldn’t have been raining at all. Deep breaths. Step back. Okay.

I used to work with debts. The exact kind isn’t important, but suffice to say it was large amounts of money for the most useless products you would ever see. I’m talking MLM type stuff. “Oh, Jackie, it’s a vacuum cleaner it’s not useless” it’s also not worth $5,000.

I lived in Minnesota, up north of Lake Superior. You probably don’t know where that is. So, the fact that I’m here in London at all? I’ll get to that. Sorry.

This started while I was watching a streamer on twitch. He plays games, but another thing he does is live reactions to some really weird videos. They’re almost always of a person drowning in a body of water, a river, lake maybe. I didn’t like those ones so much, I always felt like I couldn’t breathe while they were playing, but that day…

It was me in the video. Sure, it’s hard to make out features through the water, and it’s got this broken-camera effect on it, but clear as day, that was me. Drowning in a river, lake, whathaveyou. I tried to chalk it up to coincidence, but… it itched. In my head. Didn’t help that my job was starting to get hectic, and I was starting to look for a way out.

I mean, have you seen the US job market? Just thinking of that sheer amount of pressure, that force, a tidal wave of change that feels like it could swallow you whole if you let it. That’s terrifying enough.

I was let go from the company soon after. They must have seen me getting my resume out, because “inappropriate dress for work” is the most bullshit excuse I’ve ever heard if you’ve seen what I wear. I stepped outside, exposed to every metaphorical force of the world, and like a scene from a movie, it was raining cats and dogs out there. Things in hand, I started to walk.

I saw two men on the sidewalk near me. One of them—the one in the black trench coat—handed the other an umbrella, then stood in the rain himself. And then—I’d think it was a trick of the light if it weren’t for what happened to me afterwards.

He let himself tip backwards to fall, like a trustfall exercise with no one to catch him, but instead of cracking his head on the pavement, he fell into a puddle and just. Kept going.

He vanished through what should have been solid ground. I was still processing the fall, and started to run to help, stepping out into the street.

And the next thing I know, I’m in over my head in icy rainwater. I think I stepped in another one of those puddles. Maybe. I don’t remember it well down there.

I remember cold water around me. Struggling to hold my breath. Rough stone walls that scraped at my sides. And a current. God, when I hit the current, it was like a truck hit me. I was caught in an endless flow and could do nothing to stop myself from being forced against those walls, tearing at my skin, pushing in on my lungs harder. All too close. I couldn’t breathe. And I couldn’t hold my breath either.

Again, my memory is fuzzy, but I think I stayed like that for a while, trapped in the current. I think I stopped holding my breath at some point—it felt like hours. But I couldn’t have. I’d have drowned. And I feel like I was struggling to hold in my air the whole time.

I think I fell unconscious. I remember seeing some of my friends, reaching out, calling me to them. And I remember reaching out, and then waking up on a street in London.

You guys work with this stuff, right? You can fix it, or, I don’t know. Something. There has to be something you all can do.

I need to get a new job. Funny, the things you think about when it all comes crashing down. Are y’all hiring?

Statement ends.

[turtlemagnum]

i got a new laptop the other day since the old one died. it doesn't have a whole lot of storage but i specifically looked for one with a quality CPU so it could emulate fairly well. grabbed some roms from my desktop to put on it, because i was gonna head over to my mom's place for the night the same day. she asked if i had bonk on it, i didn't but quickly grabbed a rom of super bonk on the snes for her to play. wasn't the version she grew up with, seemed to have some fun with it but overall didn't seem the most enjoyable. i mentioned that i had a link to the past already on here, and she lit up. she immediately wanted to play it, so i obliged.

now, growing up one of the only luxuries we had was a super nintendo. one of the only games we had for it was a link to the past, and she'd regularly replay it, and i'd watch. it was one of my earliest introductions to gaming, and was really special the whole way through; there's definitely a reason as to why i'm the zelda fuck i am today. she wouldn't really let me play it much, but one thing she said that stuck with me is that she thought i'd never be better at it than her even when i'm an adult.

fast forward a few years later, i'm no longer the little kid i was back when she still had a working SNES, i have a gaming PC and an 8bitdo SN30 pro, which is essentially a super nintendo controller with an extra set of shoulder buttons and a pair of thumbsticks. naturally, i play a link to the past on it, and after about 2-3 days i beat it. one of the few games i can say i've beaten 100%, assuming you don't count the extremely linear ones where the win condition is going through the entire game like, for instance, mario the lost levels. as i've grown older, i've gotten a lot better at video games than i was as a kid. i wouldn't say i'm fantastic at them, but i'm in a bit of a weird middleground where i'm significantly better than the average gamer but leagues behind the people at the top who actually know what the fuck they're doing. regardless, i got through the game pretty quick and easily, and i believe i might not have even died throughout, though i don't feel like checking. regardless, here's the sad part of the story

when i sat there watching her play it, there was an indelible sense of nostalgia that washed over me. but, slowly, i realized that she wasn't anywhere near as good as she used to be. i could tell she had forgotten a lot of stuff, gotten a lot worse at physically controlling link, at times forgot which buttons did what, and sometimes had to be reminded of things that i thought was second nature to her given the years and years she'd played the game. at first, i found it kind of funny, and i had a bit of pride at the idea that i had finally gotten better than her at a link to the past. then, the more i could tell she forgot, the more it set in that it likely wasn't just rust from a lack of practice.

my mom has... hit her head, a fair few times in her life. i was right there with her in the ER when pretty much all of them happened. and i've definitely noticed that a lot of her mental faculties have gotten... worse, after each one. more and more she'd repeat things we'd just talked about, have to think a lot harder about things that came naturally, rejecting more philosophical discussions saying that she didn't have the mental energy for them. i'd say that she's still absolutely functional in day to day life, and that she's probably gotten better in the time since the last time she hit her head, but i'd be lying if i said that in some ways, the mother i had as a kid died a little bit with each head injury. so this, this really set in how far gone in some ways she's become.

it became fairly bittersweet after a while, watching her play. when i was younger, i'd watch her get through the whole game in one sitting with little difficulty, and now she struggled to get through to the second dungeon. i know it sounds silly, but seeing her struggle with something like this to such a degree just really made me realize all that's happened between then and now. it's not really about the game, is it? it's about seeing someone you love slowly fade both physically and mentally in a way that you can do nothing to stop. the nostalgia became overwhelmed with a sense of how we can never go back, now.

[spencer-reids-adventures]

IT PROMPTEE TIME MAYA

I'd love to see you write Autistic!Gideon, with whoever you want (with a preference for Aaron or Spencer but anyone else could be fun too!), maybe on one of his darker days? Maybe sharing the cabin with someone for the first time to show them he has a safe space and maybe so they know where to take him/where he goes when he needs an out? 🥺💙

Gideon invites Spencer and Hotch over for dinner, but he doesn’t tell them why–doesn’t let them know that there’s a reason that he’s asked them to his cabin on a random Thursday night. Spencer has only been on the team for a few months, but Gideon and Hotch have been working together for several years at this point, and the whole thing has Gideon on edge. He doesn’t feel ready for this. He also doesn’t think he can put it off any longer - not if he’s going to continue as he has been.

Spencer and Hotch arrive at the same time, and Gideon pours them glasses of water. The harder stuff can come out later if they need it. Right now, he wants everyone to be clear headed. 

Hotch looks at him curiously, knowing that he’s usually one to drink wine in the evenings, and Gideon just shrugs. Spencer tilts his head and narrows his eyes like he’s working something out in his head, and Gideon wonders if he’ll be able to guess what’s going on before he has to say it. He wouldn’t put it past Spencer. The kid is beyond bright.

“Thank you for coming,” Gideon says, sitting down with his guests in the living room and taking a sip of his water. “I know this cabin is a little out of the way. I appreciate you making the trek out here.”

“It’s no problem,” Hotch says, at the same time that Spencer says, “We carpooled.” Spencer turns red and blinks a few times, and Gideon knows that he’s afraid he said the wrong thing.

“I asked you to come, Hotch, because I wanted to share something with you. Something I probably should have told you when we first started working together. I didn’t really feel that it was relevant, but a few things have happened lately that have changed my mind on that.” He turns to face Spencer. “And you’ll understand why I asked you once I explain everything.” From the look on Spencer’s face, he’s pretty sure Spencer has already guessed it anyway.

“Is everything okay, Jason?” Hotch asks, and Gideon nods.

“Sure,” he says. “Everything’s just fine.” He glances at Spencer again. “You already know, don’t you?”

“I have a suspicion,” Spencer admits. “But I’d rather you say whatever you’d planned, in case I’m wrong. I don’t want to make things weird or uncomfortable.”

“Hit me with your best shot.”

“Well,” Spencer says slowly. “I’m assuming this has to do with Tuesday afternoon when you slammed your hand down on the table in the conference room and then disappeared for three hours and no one could find you and you didn’t answer your phone.”

“That’s correct.”

“And that’s not the first time something like that has happened…”

“No, it’s not,” Gideon says guiltily. 

“Jason, what’s going on?” Hotch interjects, and Gideon looks at Spencer and raises an eyebrow.

“Gideon’s trying to explain to us that he’s autistic,” Spencer says carefully. “He invited me tonight because I’m autistic, too–everyone obviously knows that already. But I can see how it would feel less daunting to tell someone with a similar experience. He’s telling you because you’re his senior agent.” He turns to face Gideon. “And I’m assuming you’re not planning on telling anyone else on the team.”

Gideon shakes his head, relaxing now that Spencer has said it all aloud and he doesn’t have to. He feels like he can breathe again.

“You’re autistic?” Hotch repeats, but his voice is gentle. Kind. He doesn’t sound angry or worried or judgmental, which is all Gideon can really ask for.

“Yes,” he confirms. “I’ve known for many years now.”

“How come you didn’t tell me when I told you?” Spencer asks.

Gideon shrugs. “I never tell anyone,” he says simply. “This is the first time it’s seemed relevant for you to know.”

“It explains why you were so quick to assure me that autistic people can be FBI agents when I came to you with my doubts.”

“Hey, I’m living proof.” 

“Is it in your file?” Hotch asks. 

“Yup. Couldn’t keep it out. So I guess technically you aren’t the only people who know, although I doubt many people are going through my file on a regular basis.”

“Thank you for telling us,” Spencer says loudly. “Thank you for feeling comfortable enough to share that part of yourself. That’s not an easy thing to do, especially for someone so intensely private like you.”

Hotch nods. “I’m glad you feel that you can trust me with this.”

“I invited both of you here specifically to talk about it, because this is my safe place,” Gideon explains. “This cabin is free from all the stuff we deal with at work–it’s mine, just mine, and I feel more comfortable here than anywhere else on the planet. If you ever see me struggling and we’re in town and it’s possible, please bring me here.”

“I can do that,” Spencer says. “Goodness knows you’ve saved me enough times when I needed an out. Although I will say, the 12th floor supply closet is a little bit easier to access than this place.”

“You can take me there, too, if necessary,” Gideon says seriously. “I know we can’t always just pick up and drive off somewhere. I also know I’m not always in a place to be moved great distances. In those instances, the supply closet or, ideally, my office, will suffice. But this place will always be my safe space outside of work.”

—

Nearly three months later, Spencer runs to Hotch’s office and closes the door behind him. 

“I think we need to take Gideon to his cabin,” he says pointedly. “Like, right now.”

Hotch stands up. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing yet,” Spencer says. “But I was just in his office, and he seems really…dark. And obviously uncomfortable. He didn’t exactly snap at me, but he looks like he’s hanging by a thread. I thought about taking him upstairs, but since it’s just a paperwork day and you’re around, I thought maybe we could just–”

“Take him to the place where he feels safest,” Hotch says, nodding. “That’s a good idea. I’m glad you came to me. Why don’t you grab your stuff and we’ll take him over together.

It doesn’t take any fighting to get Gideon to come with them–as soon as Hotch says the word “cabin” Gideon perks up a bit before going back to rubbing his hands together over and over and over. The three of them make their way outside, and Spencer hands Gideon his sunglasses, which he had grabbed from the desk on the way out. He offers Gideon his own headphones, but Gideon declines, saying he doesn’t want to feel anything on his ears. 

They drive in silence the whole way, and 30 minutes later they arrive at the cabin. Gideon practically runs to the door, nearly tripping over his own feet, and it only takes him two tries to fumble the door open. He goes straight to the bedroom and closes the door behind him.

“Should we stay?” Spencer asks. “Or do we just…leave him here?”

“I’m not sure I feel comfortable leaving,” Hotch admits. “But I don’t know how long it’ll be until he’s feeling better. Are you okay staying for a while?”

Spencer nods. “If it starts to get too late, I can always cook dinner for the three of us.”

“You can cook?”

Spencer rolls his eyes. “Who do you think cooked when I was growing up? I’ll give you a hint–it definitely wasn’t my mom.”

“Fair point.”

‘Besides, cooking is really just chemistry. And I have a Ph.D. in chemistry, so.”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry I doubted you.”

They play a few games of chess, and when it gets late, Spencer looks through the fridge and cabinets and scrounges together a nice pasta meal for the three of them. When everything’s ready, Hotch approaches Gideon’s room.

“Jason?” he calls. “We made dinner, if you’d like some.”

There’s no response.

“Jason?” he calls again. “Can I come in?”

When he’s met with silence the second time, he gingerly pushes the door open and finds Gideon on his stomach on the bed, head turned to the side, staring straight at the wall.

“You okay?” Hotch asks.

Gideon looks at him, but doesn’t speak.

“Do you want me to get Reid?”

Gideon nods once, and Hotch dashes out to the living room to grab Spencer. When they get back to the bedroom, it takes Spencer only a second to figure out what’s going on.

“Are you having trouble speaking?” he asks, and Gideon quickly nods again. “Okay. Blink once for yes and two for no?”

Gideon blinks once.

“Are you hungry? We made dinner.”

One blink.

“Do you want to come eat in the kitchen with us?”

Two blinks.

“Do you want to eat in here by yourself? I can bring you a plate.”

One blink.

Hotch gets up and grabs a plate of food for Gideon, setting it carefully on the bed, but Gideon makes no move to get up.

“Do you need help getting up?” Spencer asks.

Two blinks.

“Do you want us to leave you alone now?”

One blink.

Spencer and Hotch leave Gideon alone with his food, closing the door behind them and fixing their own plates of food in the kitchen. They eat in near silence.

“I’ve never seen him like this,” Hotch finally says. 

Spencer chews thoughtfully.

“It happens,” he says. “We don’t really have a lot of control over it, most of the time. I mean, we can try to minimize environmental triggers and practice self-care, of course, but sometimes there’s only so much you can do. I’d imagine Gideon has become pretty practiced at holding it together until he’s got privacy, and having his own office probably helps with that a lot.”

“Does it happen to you often?” Hotch asks. “I mean, more often that we see? You don’t have to answer that if it’s too personal.”

“No, it’s fine,” Spencer says. “I don’t know if I’d say it happens often, but more often than you see, yes. Definitely.”

“I guess I’m learning a lot about both of you.”

“I guess you are.”

A few hours later Gideon emerges from his bedroom holding his empty plate. He sets it in the kitchen sink and then sits down on the couch next to Spencer.

“Feeling better?” Spencer asks. 

Gideon nods.

“Thank you,” he says quietly. “For dinner and…for everything.”

“Anytime,” Hotch says from across the coffee table. “Glad we could help.”

[dave-the-tech-guy]

[There's a recorder on the table. It seems to have been left in a hurry.]

[Would you like to listen to it?]

[Yes] [No]

[Yes] [No]

[You hit the play button.]

...Oh! It's working. Okay. Um.

Hi! Hey. This is, uh, Dave. Dave here. Yeah. And, uh, if you're listening to this now, then that means I'm dead. For real this time. And not like all the other times. Whatever got me got me, and I'm not getting back up.

Dying. That's a weird thing, isn't it? I used to fear it a lot more. Everybody does. "You only get one life, so you better make the most of it," you know? I guess that held a lot more truth before all of this happened. Before people could just die and come back the next day. Maybe this is kind of morbid coming from the dead guy, but I feel like I've started to feel okay with the thought of being completely dead.

...Sorry. I guess I really shouldn't make dead guy jokes right now. Or maybe I should? I don't know if that makes things better or worse for you guys. Feels good to joke about it, though. Don't want any of you crying over me. I'd just feel bad about that.

So...um. I guess this is one of those things where I tell everybody what I never got to say, and people get to know what stuff of mine they can keep, and all of that fun stuff. Like a will! But...worse. And a lot less formal. And instead of it being on a nice little piece of legal paper, it's on an old recorder I found lying around the house.

I think that's nice, though! Kind of, uh, reminds me of the store. And...everything. Before...everything happened. Yeah. Yeah.

...Oh! Right! Um, so. Final messages! God, where do I even start? I've met so many of you. Uh...I guess I'll just go in order? Or something. Whoever comes to mind. Kind of got a checklist thing going on here. Kind of. Not really. It's- Okay. Sorry. I'm nervous. Um. Here we go.

Adam! Hi! Or both Adams, I guess. I didn't really talk to the little guy much. He seemed cool, though! Tell him he's cool. Or if he's listening to this, then hey! You're a cool guy! Keep it up, little guy!

And then normal Adam. Well, I mean, normal's kind of- wait. Shit. I'm dead, I can't make fun of you anymore! Maybe I can. Uh, all jokes aside though, I hope you're gonna be alright, man. Stop getting into so much trouble. Be a little nicer to yourself. You're not a bad kid, and you've gotta stop treating yourself like one. I know it's a little stupid, but...I did kind of see you as a little brother. An annoying one. And you did call me some stuff that one time. But...yeah.

Uh. Next one. Jonah! Hi, Jo! Um, first off, thanks for the jacket. It's nice! Hell of a lot comfier than the old one. And for everything else, too. You're always really good at that. I'd give you something back, but, uh...well. You can have my femur? Actually, no. Don't take that. I probably want to keep that.

Um. You know, you- you helped me a lot. Back when all of that ghost stuff was happening. Thanks for letting me join your little group. Even if I did kind of bail on you guys with the whole "dying in the woods" thing. It was nice. You're nice. You deserve a lot, and I hope the world's a lot nicer to you nowadays.

Uhh. Let's see. O'Brien, thanks for letting me show up that one time. Sorry for taking your necklace. And for breaking into your church. And for scaring you. I don't think you're listening to this, but I wanted to thank you anyway. Maybe we got to know each other better in another life. Or something. Probably not. This is awkward. Um.

...Alright. These next ones are gonna be a little harder for me, so just, uh- bear with me, I guess.

Mark. Sarah. You two were the light of my life. I love you guys so much. I'm really sorry I wasn't there enough. If I knew what I do now, I'd spend as much time as I could around you two. I love you. You deserved so much more than what you were given, and I hope you guys are going to be okay. I know you're going to be.

Mark, don't push yourself too hard, okay? It's gonna be hard, and I know you want to protect your family, but you can't do that all on your own. Remember that there's people you can turn to for help. And Sarah, the same goes for you. You don't have to do anything alone. You've got people in your life that love you and are there for you. I'm sorry that I'm not one of them anymore, but I know you'll be alright. I trust you guys. Stay safe.

And Joel. I know I bully you a lot, and I still think your channel's a little silly, but I do care about you in the end. Get out of here as soon as you can. Go do whatever the hell it is you do back home. Tell your mom I said hi when you see her again. Take care of yourself.

...Sorry. I just- I just need a second.

...Okay. Um. Shit.

Ruth. I'm so happy I met you. I know you don't remember all the stuff that happened in between then and now, but I want you to know that I'd do it all again for you. I'm gonna miss your hugs. You gave good ones. I hope you and Thatcher can take care of each other when I'm gone.

Speaking of.

Thatcher. There's so much I wish I could say to you, but I can't get it all out here. I love you, man. I'm so sorry for everything. Thank you for staying with me this entire time. I don't think I could have done it without you. I hope you know how much I appreciate you. I'm going to miss you a lot.

Nothing that happened, or that's going to happen, is your fault, okay? Don't beat yourself up over it. Like I said with Mark and Sarah, you've got people in your life that want to help you. It's okay to let them in. I wish I would have let you in more. I was scared, and I wish I hadn't been. I don't want you to have those regrets. I want you to have a good life. I want you to live every day to its fullest. I love you. I can't say that enough.

Take care of the cats for me. And yourself. And tell Clover I'm happy I got to meet her. And to work on those wings for the love of all that is holy.

…I almost don't want this to end. I mean, it's not like I'm gonna die the second I put down this recorder. Hopefully. I- I think. You never know.

God knows I sure don't.

...Well, I guess there's, uh, not much else to say, is there? You've all got lives to lead. I'll let you go do that.

This is Dave Lee, signing out. End recording.

[gaykarstaagforever]

1970

Another proto-Elseworlds 100% about Superman and Lois breeding.

The Bronze Age, featuring less nonsense like this, started around 1973, when America's broken boys started returning from the Killing Fields of 'Nam. Coincidence? Probably. But it is funnier to pretend otherwise.

This story is exactly Superman and Lois giving birth to Stewie Griffin, and shenanigans ensue. Granted, Stewie didn't exist in 1970 (and probably only exists because Seth grew up on this garbage), so it may have hit harder back then. I have no idea. Ask your favorite Vietnam vet.

Otherwise, the story here is mostly just inexplicable stuff happening, that may or may not have anything to do with the plot. Like this:

The implication is that the Freak Baby results from Lois's probably-a-real-car-I-can't-identify getting exploded by lightning hitting a gas tank.

But then no, it is this guy

doing things with rays to Lois's womb.

And if that isn't gross enough, he also watches Superman and Lois in their bedroom.

The baby is born with a giant head, and is super-intelligent and evil from the rays, which is all part of a really stupid plan by the weird guy to Take Over the World in the most convoluted way possible.

Suffice it to say, it takes Superman approximately one million years to figure out something strange is going on. During which time, he keeps trying to stuff baby food into the mouth of an obvious monster who keeps yelling at him.

Enjoy this panel as you will, Tumblr.

My nerdy favorite part of this comic is how no one at DC in 1970 could figure out how to draw striped wrapping paper, but tried anyway:

Another highlight is this fascinatingly irresponsible Superman feat:

I'm sure you're desperate to know how Superman stops his evil baby from helping the weird guy conquer the world.

...Well, okay. First, this happens:

Space is involved. They try to explain it and it just makes it worse.

To the point. The weird guy's whatever plan immediately falls apart, the moment Freak Baby figures out what is going on and decides to enslave him as a henchman as part of a NEW plan, to force the Government to pay him millions of dollars or he won't let any flying planes land. Which isn't bad, relative to the rest of this nonsense.

It is looking pretty good for him until he just...falls asleep.

See, my first thought was probably the same as yours: he's still a baby. He just got all tuckered out.

But no. That would make the barest amount of sense. He passes out because Superman secretly drugged a jigsaw puzzle he played with days before, with some kind of special sleepy toxin that he invented, specifically to make his monster baby pass out days later.

Because there was literally no other way to deal with this, before the kid started crashing airplanes and making public ransom demands.

At the end, the baby is "cured" of being a monster, and everything is fine. In a universe where everyone now knows Superman and Lois had a monster baby who probably killed people.

...Was the weird guy recording the footage he collected from Superman and Lois's bedroom? I feel like he probably would have.

I bet Lex Luthor has it now. Luthor, and Batman.

And maybe Jimmy Olsen.

[defensivelee]

I have had the WEIRDEST dream... not that I'm complaining and you'll see why in a sec. I think for this dream i was my wasp-human-like OC named Andrena, if you don't know her story it's basically that she goes around different time periods and universes to change their history with her husband, but she usually doesn't stick around to see HOW she changed it. that's for other people to live through. when she goes to the 17th century, which is when presumably the dream was, she dresses up as a man. so that's how I was, which was... weirdly affirming.

anyway, the whole story is under the cut, in which I give William III a concussion (??). disclaimer I would not do any of this irl my mind was just acting up... but it was kinda fun ngl

there was some kind of situation going on with the king, I don't remember exactly what it was, but I remember the fucking way my heart JUMPED at hearing that there was a king. logically Andrena would have known that there was one and that was why she was here, but the me inside of her was like OH SHIT??? SHIT??? WELL WHO IS IT??

it was William! I still don't know exactly how I came to know that, I think I caught a glimpse of him walking by with a few others following him. I tell you seeing him in the flesh (obv in my head and all) hit some kinda way

much of that from there is kind of a weird blur, I think it was night, and I just walked around the place, might have been a palace, but it was weirdly dark and confining so it didn't feel like one. shadows were EVERYWHERE, and I noticed this weird one with wings that the moon's light fell through and antennae....that was me!!! it was such a thrill to find LMAO

then William walked past, this time alone, and what I remember most abt that was that he was yawning. and I was like YES and I follow him, asking him how was his day and all that, trying to make conversation, and the way my heart is just SNAPPING bc he seems rlly annoyed. maybe not with me, idk what it is, but yeah he was rlly brief with his answers, so I get annoyed too. I remember thinking, in this weird completely uncharacteristic way for me but I suppose characteristic for Andrena, that Kowloon (her husband) wouldn't have waited this long.

so I just kinda wiggle my tail (which I didn't even notice I had up until then!!) and then pounce at him, fucking pin his arms behind him and cover his mouth with my hand. that was the most vivid part, I distinctly remember the warm breaths from his nose hitting my hand, how uneven they were, how they quickened when he realized what was happening. another thing I noticed was that he was noticeably smaller than me....I think irl I'm about his height but Andrena is actually pretty tall, so it was weird seeing the height difference!! I remember thinking that this would be easy, then.

he struggled like a real BITCH in my arms, glaring back at me with just the most beautiful expression of defiance I've ever seen, and I just started laughing bc I was so happy. idk why. i pin him to the wall and I laugh even harder at the fierce way hes looking at me, and I start asking him "waar is zij, baby, waar is zij?" that means 'where is she.' I think I was referring to Mary, and tbh idk if she was dead at this time or if she just wasn't there. but yeah it made him even angrier, he thrashed around like crazy, and I was like, "awww" and laughing bc idk. it was funny to me or maybe to Andrena idk irl I would not have the balls to do this I promise. and I kept saying "het is goed" (which may or may not be influenced by smth I read once, HMM.) to him while I flicked the stinger in my tail out and OUGHHH. the fear in his eyes when he saw it. it was beautiful. I could feel his mouth trying to open under my hand but I just dug my claws in (Andrena has claws yes next question) and warned him to shut up.

so I sting him in his thigh, and he makes this sweet little grunt bc hi it probably hurts and his body jolts for a second there. but this BITCH keeps on fighting, trying to kick out at me, so I sting him a few more times, and he kinda starts slowing down, his eyes get ADORABLY blinky and sleepy, and I was like "awwhaha see you're prettier when you're quiet" and he STILL attempts to glare at me. I sting him one last time and then start slamming his head against the wall repeatedly, and fuck man it sounded like it HURT. like I remember being slightly alarmed but having no intention of stopping, not until he stopped moving. he gave me this fun little ditzy look, like he was confused or exhausted or rlly in pain I'm not sure, and I kinda bring him closer to me so he falls limp against me and I say "there's just a king across the water that really wants you dead, do you know him? yesss I think you know him"

which like. holy shit it fits perfectly well with Andrena's story bc she's canonically a Jacobite. so good on my brain for being consistent!

then I lifted him up in my arms, he was REALLY fucking light, and I was like. I need to go show my husband

AND THEN I WOKE UP!! which was so disappointing bc I was rlly looking forward to manhandling him while he was conked out :(( but well I can't complain... I got my whumpy dream with him and it got pretty far

[breakaway71]

20 questions writer meme!

Tagged by @galauvant, thank you bb! Retrospectives like this always give me the best kind of nostalgia about my writing, and I could use that right now, in the middle of some heavy projects. <3

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 242

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 1,200,157

3. What fandoms do you write for? Currently? Julie and the Phantoms, Back to the Future, and Stranger Things are the biggies. I also always include Supernatural, because one way or another it always drags me back in unexpectedly.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Say it Sweet (Teen Wolf, Derek/Stiles, truth serum)

2. Give All My Secrets Away (Supernatural, Dean/Castiel, hurt/comfort, wing!fic but not in the way you expect)

3. All That's Best of Dark and Bright (Teen Wolf, Dere/Stiless, trans MTF Stiles and falling in love and rescues and ~feels)

4. Family Matters (Julie and the Phantoms, gen, Ray accidentally adopts the whole ghost band and Reggie in particular and some stuff happens, idk, lots of good dad stuff)

5. Ad Astra Per Tentaculum (Teen Wolf, Derek/Stiles, space AU, Stiles is an alien. With tentacles.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I try really hard, but often fail. Not because I don't appreciate my readers, I do, so much, but it often feels like social interaction in my brain, and some days, that's a lot harder than others. It really comes down to how many spoons I have. I have better luck with new fics, and even then, it's a real toss-up if I manage. *hides face in shame*

6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Oh. Hmm. I don't write a lot of angsty endings, honestly, but probably all those things i didn't say. Supernatural Dean & Sam gen fic, and it's. I mean, it's major character death, but in a weird way, and the ending...okay, yeah, it's a lot, but it was also meant to be hopeful?

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Basically everything lol. No, really, I love me a happy ending, if I tried to pick, we'd be here all day. I guess one of my more recent(ish) ones I have a serious soft spot for is the 88 mph (take off, last stop) verse (Julie and the Phantoms band-as-family time travel gen fic) - the ending of the main story itself is pretty damn fluffy and happy, but the timestamps kind of add to the feeling. :)

8. Do you get hate on fics? I've been very lucky that in a couple solid decades of writing fanfiction, I've only ever gotten a small handful of negative comments. And maybe only one or two I would consider actually hateful.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Rarely, these days. I did so a lot more before I realized I was deeply ace. Sometimes I still indulge, but the mood of a story has to fit just right for me to go there. As for what kind, I mean, I've hit a lot of bullet points lol, but overall it tends to be more about ~emotions than the actual smut itself.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? CROSSOVERS ARE MY WHOLE ENTIRE JAM, seriously, I live for them, the crazier I can write and make work in a way that makes people screech about me using black magic, the happier I am. Probably the one I'd consider "craziest" in terms of HOW DID THESE TWO FANDOMS WORK TOGETHER THEY ABSOLUTELY HOULD NOT HAVE WORKED TOGETHER was Good Dreams, Sweet Prince - a Julie and the Phantoms/The Sandman crossover, canon-compliant to both universes, where Reggie is Dream's son. (It's also probably one of the crossovers I'm most proud of, honestly.)

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not any I'm aware of

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? I've been asked many times, but it was never something I was comfortable with. There's a level of trust you have to have, not being able to be sure that a translation is true to the spirit of the fic, and it's a level of control I've never quite been able to give up. I feel bad about it, honestly, because I'd love more people to have access to my work. Maybe someday I'll get past my brain stuff about it.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? No(t yet)

14. What's your all-time favorite ship? This question is deeply unfair and I rebel, I have too many I love with every piece of my heart, too many I've never been able to give up even when my fandoms have shifted and changed. I can't even pick an all-time favorite just for Supernatural!

15. What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? There are a lot of them, unfortunately, but I'll probably say my Julie and the Phantoms/Voltron Reggie/Keith crossover fic for sure. It was something I started at the height of my love for both fandoms, but the ideas got way too big for me at the time. Then I lost the fic notebook with most of my outlines and notes for it, and that was kind of the nail in the coffin.

16. What are your writing strengths? Overall, I think my ability to get into a character's head and really nail the characterization. (Which is not to say it's always perfectly true to canon - I've taken a lot of liberties with Reggie, for example, because the show didn't give us a lot to work with besides "comic relief". But I at least know when something I write is veering a little too far from canon to be believable anymore.)

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Action scenes, for sure. And plot. Most of my fics are just ~vibes where plot occasionally creeps in. Sometimes it works and comes together surprisingly well, sometimes it's just ~vibes right through the bitter end lol.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I will do so very sparingly, but it's not something I generally trust myself to do well.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Pokemon, although Harry Potter was the first fandom I ever finished anything for. (Sadly (or, well, not) none of those stories exist on the interwebs anymore, they were all on older sites/forums that either no longer exist or went through a few too many purges. I still have a few of them fics in theory, but they're on floppy or zip discs I can't access, and most were written in programs that don't exist anymore.)

20. Favorite fic you've written? Oh hell. My answer to this changes with the tide, honestly, but one of my most favorites is my Detention trilogy. Dean/Gabriel, student/teacher AU. I think a lot of people were scared to read it because, well, teacher/student (not to mention an unpopular ship), but I worked damn hard to balance a very fine line with that fic, and I was so proud of how it turned out.

Tagging @ladyeternal178, @bananakarenina, @zubenpics, and anyone else who sees this and wants to participate in the fun!

[94monkeys]

How it started/ how it's going

This isn't going to become a pregnancy blog (I think??) but I did want to get down a few thoughts about how I've been feeling and what's been going on!

How it started

Well, long story short, we did IVF and it worked. On the first try? Yes. Did you expect that to happen? Absolutely not! Between when we decided we would do it (Nov/Dec) and when we could get into the schedule (March) I had gotten myself to "okay, we will try this and see if it happens." For me, I think that decision was the hardest part—harder than the shots and putting our whole life on hold—accepting that this was our best option and that we were going to pursue it despite the odds.

(I hasten to point out that I live in a state where IVF is mandated to be covered by insurance—not all of it because our system sucks, but enough of it that cost was nowhere near as big a factor as it is for many. Can't describe how lucky this was of a life choice.)

I found out I was pregnant right after my husband got COVID... which was right after we had been in semi-isolation for IVF.... how 2022! The first people I told were my dentist and dentist's assistant because, LOL, they almost didn't let me get a cleaning without a doctor's note. At 6 weeks! Everyone remembers that magic moment when they deliver the happy news to their dentist, right? The next people I told were my 2 close friends who have walked with me through this whole process (one had a similar pregnancy loss, the other is dealing with her own massive health issue). I'm so lucky to have them in my life.

How it's going

Honestly... really good! Decembaby is looking healthy and testing has all gone well so far. While gender is a construct we found out the baby is a girl and I'm excited for that too. (My husband just discovered that "girl clothes" are more exciting than the clothes designated for baby boys. Yes, it's his first day here. But he's so happy and excited and just the best.)

I am having to take it easier than normal, but I don't mind. Fitness and food right now is a whole other circus best suited for a separate post, but I have been able to be fairly active and I'm eating in a way that feels good! I haven't weighed myself since mid-March since we started IVF, although they are weighing me at the doctor's office. So I know I have gained a little weight and some of my clothes are not as comfortable any more. But I'm kind of enjoying not micro-tracking it and knowing that if I have to pay more attention to it, my doctors will tell me.

In my first trimester I was exhausted and often woke up nauseated (although I never fully ralphed and I'm grateful for that!) I was also massively anxious because of the losses we had gone through before, even worrying that I didn't feel sick/ drained ENOUGH for things to go well. The worst anxiety hit the 3.5 weeks between when I "graduated" from fertility and when I got seen by my regular-degular OB/GYN.

I still have some anxiety that I will jinx myself by telling people. I put off telling people at work for so long that someone else I work with is pregnant (!) so now we'll probably just dive-bomb everyone together. I guess that's why we haven't done a big splash announcement on social media yet. Maybe we still will!

For now I'm glad I can enjoy this phase even as I know it will change. I'm starting to feel her move around, especially after I've been lying down for a bit. Such a weird alien feeling! We can't stop talking about things we want to do with her and what she'll be like. It's just—wow—this is our lives, this is happening.

[samwritesstuff97]

All Bets Are Off: Chapter 5

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x OC!Penny's Niece

Warnings: Drinking (you can probably count on that one for every part), Swearing, Smut (18+, Minors stay away!)

Word Count: 4660 (lol)

A/N: A lot happens in this chapter! We also get to see a little bit more of Hangman in this chapter! Thanks for reading, and as always my inbox is open!

Masterlist | Tag List | Request

*

Eliza woke up the next morning still thinking about the fact that she had asked Rooster to come to Margot's wedding with her. That took balls on my part, for sure. She shook her head, and rolled over to grab her phone, texting Ian:

“He said yes.”

Eliza watched him read her response, before Ian replied:

“I told you he would. Didn’t you see how he was looking at you all night?”

Eliza held her phone close to her chest for a moment, feeling a rush of sudden giddiness, and replied:

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Ian simply replied with two eye roll emojis, and Eliza got up to get ready for the day; she decided a jog on the beach would be the best thing to clear her mind. No shitting where you eat, Eliza. She reminded herself, It’s just for the wedding and piss off Grady, nothing more.

Eliza found herself struggling more than she’d anticipated to keep her thoughts off of Rooster as she jogged: how velvety his voice was, how confident he made her feel, and how fun and easy he was to talk to. Eliza felt like she’d known Rooster for years, and had to remind herself that it had only been about two weeks. Eliza began comparing Rooster and Grady in her mind. Where Rooster was brave and decisive, Grady had been unadventurous and largely afraid of commitment; where Rooster made Eliza feel alive and like she could truly be herself, Grady had made her feel like she constantly had to dilute herself. Even Aunt Penny approves… Eliza thought, before catching herself. No, this is the first time I’ve been single in years, I don’t need to rush into something with someone like him.

When Eliza returned home, she was bored and pacing around her living room, with a few hours to go before her shift at the Hard Deck, and she was finding it even harder to keep her mind off Rooster. Eliza picked up her phone and typed out a message to Phoenix, pausing before she hit send:

“Hey! Would it be weird if I asked you for Rooster’s number?”

What am I doing? She thought, This is not the way to get your mind off him. Eliza went to delete the message, but paused again, Unless, I just get him out of my system! For all I know, I don’t actually want a relationship with him, I could just want to fuck him and move on. 

Eliza hesitated again for a moment, then pressed send. Fuck it. She thought, What’s the absolute worst that could happen?

Rooster had just finished a run as well when his phone buzzed on his kitchen counter, it was a message from Phoenix:

“I think you should know that a certain someone just asked me for your number…”

Rooster’s heart leapt into his throat, he hurriedly typed back:

“Give it to her!”

Phoenix laugh-reacted to his message, then responded:

“Just did.”

Rooster set his phone back down his kitchen counter and took a couple of steps away from it, steeling himself for the fact that the next text he got could be from Eliza. Maybe she wants to talk about the wedding? But she said that was about a month away… He wondered.

Sure enough, moments later his found buzzed again, Rooster slowly raised the screen to his face, his heart jumping when he saw a text from an unknown number that read:

“Hey Rooster! It’s Eliza Benjamin. I hope you don’t mind, but Phoenix gave you my number!”

Before he had time to respond, another came through:

“I was just wondering if there was any kind of documentation you needed from me to get away from the base for the wedding, which is in Orange County.”

Eliza was proud of herself, she felt like that was a good conversation starter that was also casual. Eliza found herself feeling nervous again, as watched him read the messages and start to respond.

“I should be able to get the paperwork through pretty easily, but just in case, will you send me a picture of the invite?”

Eliza’s phone buzzed again:

“Also, what's the dress code for this wedding? Am I showing up in dress whites?”

The image of Rooster in dress whites made Eliza’s face flush, she replied:

“I think so. It’s an evening wedding, so it’ll probably be pretty formal.”

Eliza thought for a second, and then feeling bold said:

“I can send you a picture of my dress so you can kind of get an idea if you want…”

Rooster groaned, and ran his fingers through his hair while he considered a response. While he desperately wanted to see Eliza in her dress, Rooster wasn’t sure if it would be weird to ask. She did offer… He thought to himself. Rooster thought for another moment, and realized how long his typing bubble would have been up on her screen.

“Sure.”

As Rooster pressed send, he wondered what her dress must look like. Rooster knew she had a great body, and he selfishly hoped she’d show it off, but he knew Eliza to be more low key than most. Before he had to consider any further, his phone buzzed again, and an image loaded on the screen: it was a picture of Eliza in a deep green silk dress that hugged her every curve. Rooster’s breath caught in his throat as he typed a reply, his fingers shaking slightly:

“Gorgeous, as I expected. I’ll have to step it up to be seen with you.”

Rooster smirked at his response, proud of it. Running his fingers through his hair again, Rooster thought about how much Eliza affected him. While there was no doubt she was one of the more beautiful people Rooster had ever met, Eliza was also kind and outgoing and always seemed truly interested in what the person she was talking to had to say, even with Hangman. Hangman! Rooster thought, Have I won the bet?

Hurriedly, Rooster called Phoenix, who answered sleepily, “Hello?”

“Phoenix, I may have won the bet, but I’m not sure if it counts.”

“Really?” Phoenix sounded much more alert. “I wondered why she asked for your number. Do tell.”

Rooster sighed, feeling slightly self-conscious. “Eliza asked me to go to a wedding with her to get back at her ex.”

Phoenix was silent for a moment, “Rooster, I don’t think you technically won the bet, since she asked, but you’re going to.”

“What do you mean?” Rooster’s heart was pounding.

“Eliza specifically asked you to go to a wedding with her, and she told you she wanted you to come to make her ex jealous?” Phoenix asked.

“Specifically, to make her ex feel insecure, but yes.” Rooster thought for a second, hazily recalling the conversation and wishing he hadn’t had quite so much to drink, “She said it’s because I’m a handsome fighter pilot who looks like her favorite TV show characters or something.”

Phoenix whooped loudly, making Rooster jerk the phone away from his ear and swear, “Sorry, Rooster, it’s just you’ve got her on the hook now, you just have to reel her in.”

“Phoenix, I have no idea what that means.” Rooster was pacing his kitchen, “If you have information will you please just tell me instead of feeding me weird little metaphors?”

Phoenix laughed, “I don’t have any more information than you do on this, but for what it’s worth, if I were in her shoes, I wouldn’t ask a guy to a wedding with me unless I was at least okay with some romantic shit happening between us.”

Rooster grinned, “Thanks Phoenix. Did I wake you up, by the way?”

“The both of you did a little bit, but it’s worth it.” Phoenix paused for a moment, “Do you want me to do some reconnaissance for you?”

Rooster thought for a second, “Are you going to be low key?”

“I’ll do my very best, scout’s honor.” Phoenix quipped.

“I’m not sure I believe you. How do I know you won’t just tell her I asked you to ask her about me?” Rooster felt very nervous.

“What, are you afraid she’ll find out you like her?” Phoenix laughed again, “You both obviously like each other, and are just being shy about it. I think you should just get over yourselves and get married already, personally.”

“Ha ha.” Rooster sighed. “I don’t know that she likes me, I just think she likes me better than Hangman, and while I’m happy to have won that battle, I don’t think it means I've won the war.”

Phoenix huffed. “Whatever, Rooster. Now can I go back to my hangover nap, please?”

Rooster laughed, “Yeah, sorry. I’ll talk to you on base later.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” Phoenix groaned as she hung up the phone.

When Eliza arrived at the Hard Deck, she found Hangman sitting on the steps outside, with a bouquet of flowers in hand. “I don’t think Penny’s mad at you, Hangman, she just likes making you buy rounds.” She smiled down at him.

Hangman grinned back, looking cocky as ever, “Actually, these are for you.”

Eliza’s jaw dropped slightly, “For me? Why?” She hesitantly took the flowers from Hangman, noticing right away how amazing they smelled.

Hangman shrugged, “I don’t always make the best first impression, especially on beautiful women. I just get a little excited, I suppose.”

“So you’re saying that you’re not an over confident flirt, just an excitable puppy?” Eliza knit her brow, moving past Hangman to unlock the door. “So I’ve heard.”

“Precisely.” Hangman nodded.

“Well, come inside, I’m sure Penny has a vase for these somewhere, and I’ll get you a drink on the house as a thank you!” Eliza called over her shoulder as she walked in.

Eliza walked back into the kitchen, leaving Hangman alone at the bar; he pulled out his phone, and sent a picture of the empty Hard Deck to Rooster.

“You’re not the only one who gets alone time with her at the Hard Deck.”

Rooster read his message immediately and texted back:

“Happy for you, buddy.”

Hangman rolled his eyes, and looked up to see Eliza walking out of the kitchen with the flowers in a vase, she set them on the bar and smiled at them, “There, now I’ll be able to look at them all night.” Eliza looked at Hangman thoughtfully, then asked “What can I get for you, Hangman?”

“Just whatever IPA you like best.” Hangman answered, trying his hardest to look genuine.

Eliza wrinkled her nose at him, “IPA?”

“Or just whatever you recommend.”

Eliza nodded, opening a bottle and handing it to him. “So Hangman, I’m giving you a rare second first impression, try to beat your first first impression.”

Hangman grinned, “Well, I should have started off by asking you how you got into bartending.”

“I actually started off as a barista, but I picked up a couple of shifts as a favor to a friend, and fell in love with it. I got a job at that very dive bar, and worked there until I got my first big job.” Eliza smiled wistfully, “Bartending really is the job for me, it’s like being a barista, but you’re allowed to be mean to the customers.”

Hangman laughed, “Fair enough. What did you study in college?”

Eliza smiled, “Look at you, all interested!”

“I told you, I’m trying to make a better first impression.”

Just then, Penny walked in, preventing Eliza from responding, “Hangman!” She said, “You’re not who I expected to see in my bar an hour before it opens.”

Hangman finished his beer, “I was actually just leaving, Penny.”

“Oh, were you?” Eliza asked, looking a little disappointed.

“Yeah, I’ve got to be at the airfield in an hour.” Hangman said.

“And you just drank a beer?” Eliza asked, shocked.

Penny laughed, “Welcome to North Island, dear.”

Eliza shook her head, “So, I guess that means you and the gang won’t be here tonight?”

“No, but I’ll be sure to tell them you said hello.” Hangman smirked slightly and Eliza rolled her eyes.

“I’m sure you will.” Eliza waved to him as he walked out of the bar.

“What was he doing here?” Penny asked, looking suspicious.

Eliza shrugged, “He brought me flowers and said he wanted to fix his first impression with me.”

“Hmm, I wonder what he’s up to…” Penny wondered.

“Hey, maybe he’s just actually interested in me because I’m going to be a part of his life, whether either of us likes it or not!” Penny just shook her head and chuckled in response. “It may make you happy to know that I invited Rooster to come with me to Margot’s wedding next month, and he said yes.”

Penny clapped her hands excitedly, “Is Grady going to be there?”

“Of course, Margot’s fiance was his roommate junior and senior year, I think Grady may be a groomsman.” Eliza said casually.

“Oh, you’re sly, aren’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re considering a relationship with Rooster, but you’re not willing to risk it unless you know you like him, so you’ve created an opportunity to find out while still giving yourself an out, if you don’t like him after all.” Penny said with her arms folded, “I admire your cleverness, I really do.”

“Oh please, Aunt Penny! It’s so a strategic move to get back at Grady. A man like Rooster would have had Grady shaking in his boots if he and I were ever in a room together, much less alone. If I let Grady think Rooster and I are dating, he’ll be thinking about it for the rest of the year, maybe his life.” Eliza scoffed.

Penny shook her head, “And then, when you and Rooster fall in love, the joke will really be on Grady, won’t it?”

Eliza started counting bottles in one of the fridges, “I really don’t know where you’re getting these grand ideas from, Aunt Penny. He’s arm candy, nothing more.”

“Do you realize that you’re setting yourself up to live out the plot of a romance novel?” Penny stood in front of her at the bar, “Please tell me you can at least see where I’m coming from here.”

Eliza raised an eyebrow at Penny, then shook her head. “I think it’s wishful thinking on your part making you see what you want to see.”

Hangman came strutting into the hangar where the pilots were meeting for a brief seminar before doing night time runs of the simulated course to see how they could handle shooting blind. “What’s up everyone?” He smirked as he sat down behind Rooster, Phoenix, and Bob.

“Where have you been?” Phoenix asked.

Hangman sat down and leaned back in his chair smugly, “It’s funny you should ask that, I actually have a message that will answer that question.”

There was a moment of silence, “Well?” Rooster asked.

“Well…” Hangman paused again.

“Jesus Christ, Hangman, just tell us so we can all get on with our lives.” Phoenix grumbled.

“Eliza. Says. Hello.” Making eye contact with each of them word by word.

“So, you were at the Hard Deck?” Bob asked.

“Is that what you texted me earlier? Because that was not very long ago, so you couldn’t have been there for longer than ten or fifteen minutes, tops.” Rooster said, crossing his arms.

“I wasn’t there for long, but I did leave her with a gift that she said she would display on the bar all night so she could look at it.” Hangman said smugly.

Phoenix rolled her eyes. “What did you bring her, Hangman?”

“Flowers.” Hangman replied, looking incredibly proud of himself. “Flowers that Penny also appreciated.”

“That sounds like a stretch.” Rooster said.

Hangman cleared his throat, “Fine, flowers that Penny didn’t seem to actively hate.” He shook his head, “Why doesn’t she like me?”

Phoenix laughed, “Because she has two rules and you break one of them like once a week!”

Hangman sat back and rolled his eyes as Bates began their seminar.

As the night went on, Eliza found herself missing Phoenix and Bob’s friendly faces, but looking for Rooster’s desperately in every person who walked in, just on the off chance that he would come by after whatever top secret flight practice he was doing. Much to her disappointment, the last call came with none of them showing up, and Eliza was locking up the door and walking out to her car in no time. Oh well, it makes sense that I’ll see him a little less now that he’s got this big mission. She thought, I do have his number, I could send him a text! As she pulled out her phone, she noticed the time: 2:37 am. I can’t text him this late at night. She thought, slipping her phone back into her pocket. On the other hand, She pulled her phone back out, He does know I’m a bartender, and what time the Hard Deck closes, so it makes total sense, actually. 

“Missed you at the HD tonight! Hope all went well with flying and you didn’t have to run too many laps or whatever the military makes you do… hope to see you again soon!”

Maybe it was the two beers in her system, maybe it was the subconscious influence of her Aunt Penny, but she felt strangely confident as she pressed send.

Rooster awoke with every muscle in his body aching from what felt like thousands of push ups he’d had to do the previous night during a night time practice run. Every single time they’d flown the mission, they’d been shot down by the several anti-aircraft missiles the Air Force had now confirmed the location of. Rooster ran his fingers through his messy hair and checked his phone, immediately excited to see a message from Eliza; he thought for a moment, then typed out a response:

“And I would have preferred to be there. I wish it was laps, I’m currently using my feet to send this message, as my arms have fallen off due to the sheer number of pushups I had to do last night.”

Rooster laughed to himself, knowing that Eliza would find it funny as well, and hopped in the shower, allowing the hot water to work the knots out of shoulders. As showered, his thoughts drifted to Eliza, specifically, her in her black bikini at the beach. Rooster began stroking his cock gently as he pictured her soft, tan curves, lightly glistening with sweat, and began speeding up slightly as he remembered her running through the surf, her long braids sticking to her skin. Rooster’s mind returned to his often revisited thought of pulling her back gently by the braids, this time he imagine her still wearing her bikini top as he fucked her in his car the way he’d wanted to that night. Imagining himself pushing deeper and deeper inside her with each thrust, imagining the way she would gasp and moan when kissed and sucked on her neck, Rooster was already close to coming, and knew what thought would push him over the edge. He imagined her bent over, tilting her head back to look over her shoulder at him, eyes blown out with lust, and he could almost hear her whispering, “Rooster…”

With that thought on repeat in his mind, he finished, his hips thrusting stutteringly into his now slick fist, and Rooster gasped, having to almost physically hold himself back from moaning her name into the silence.

Rooster finished his shower and checked his phone again when he got out, seeing a text from Eliza which read:

“I bet your arms look even better now. ;)”

Rooster punched the air, then felt embarrassed despite himself.

“Come see them at the beach? We’re having a beach volleyball tournament, and you’re welcome to come watch or play!”

Eliza texted back immediately:

“What time and where?”

On the way to the beach, Eliza’s mind was racing, she’d been flirtier than ever before with Rooster and he’d definitely reciprocated. Maybe Aunt Penny is right? She thought, before shaking her head. No, I can’t think that way, because I’m enjoying being single and not looking for a relationship. 

As she drove, she listened to Depeche Mode, trying to figure out how she was going to act when she was with Rooster face to face.

“When I’m with you baby, I’m out of my head. And I just can’t get enough, and I just can’t get enough!”

The song felt a little too real, but Eliza let it play.

“All the things you do to me, and everything you said. And I just can’t enough, and I just can’t get enough!”

Eliza knew she had to steel herself to see a shirtless, shiny Rooster, but she was also going to have to contend with this new version of Hangman, who she didn’t quite know what to make of yet, he certainly seemed to be trying to turn over a new leaf, and it wouldn’t be fair to deny him that, Eliza decided. He’s no certainly no Rooster, in any case. She thought.

“We walk together, we’re walking down the street, and I just can’t get enough! And I just can’t get enough!”

Eliza certainly didn’t feel like she could get enough of Rooster, every interaction left her wanting to know more and more about him, and she felt like he may have felt the same way, but before she had time to think much further, she was pulling into the beach’s parking lot.

Stepping out of her car, she noticed Phoenix and Hangman’s cars, as well as several other cars she recognized from the Hard Deck, but not Rooster’s. Without thinking she sat back down in her car, and turned it back on, having decided to pretend to have arrived just as he did so she had an excuse to walk down to the beach with Rooster. What’s wrong with me? She thought. This is so high school.

A few minutes later, Rooster came barrelling into the parking lot, blasting Duran Duran. Eliza grinned, loving that they had such similar taste in music. She watched him park, waited for him to turn his car off, then Eliza shut hers off, stepped out, and waved to Rooster. “Hey there!” She called walking towards him. 

Rooster grinned and walked towards her, stopped a few steps away, tossing the beach towel off his shoulders, and flexing his admittedly noticeably larger arms for Eliza’s approval. She pretended to fan herself, and Eliza said “Do you have a permit for those guns? Because I don’t think California is an open carry state.”

Rooster laughed, and threw his towel back over his shoulder. “So, are you spectating or playing?” He asked as they walked down the beach together.

“Playing, for sure!” Eliza replied. “I love volleyball!”

“Nice! Hopefully you’ll be on my team, so I don’t have to beat you.”

Eliza just laughed, “Love the confidence, Rooster.”

As they approached the group, Eliza filed in line next to Phoenix where the two team captains, Halo and Fanboy were preparing to pick teams. Halo went first and chose Rooster for her team, causing a slight twinge in Eliza’s gut when he smiled at Halo as he walked over. Eliza tore her eyes away and focused her eyes on Fanboy, who, much to her surprise, smiled and said, “Eliza.”

As Eliza walked over to stand by Fanboy, she smirked at Rooster and said, “I suppose you’re going to have to beat me.”

Rooster felt himself flush, if he wasn’t crazy, then he felt like the chase was on. He ignored Halo was trying to lean into Rooster’s view, and called back, “I hope you can take it!”

Eliza simply laughed and shook her head as Halo and Fanboy continued picking teams. After the teams were chosen, the players assembled on the sand court, with Eliza positioning herself directly across from Rooster, who grinned at her, looking confident.

Eliza’s team started off the game with Fanboy serving the ball skillfully over the net, the other team vollied and returned, and when the ball was back on their side, Eliza made eye contact with Phoenix, who was playing as the setter, and motioned towards herself. Phoenix nodded and set the ball to Eliza, who leapt into the air and spiked the ball, which buried itself into the sand a couple of feet behind Rooster. Eliza and her team erupted into cheers as Halo’s team stood stunned on the other side of the net.

Rooster stared at Eliza in shock, and she called back, “Did I forget to mention that I played a little junior high, and then in high school, and then in college?” She grinned, as Rooster threw up his hands.

The rest of the game went quick, with Fanboy quickly wiping the floor with Halo’s team, and at the end of the game, Halo explained the next round of the tournament, “Alright winning team, divide up four v four, and play to fifteen!”

This round Eliza was playing Fanboy, Phoenix, and another pilot named Omaha, and they proved to be better than their competitors as well.

They then moved into two versus two, with Eliza and Phoenix demolishing Fanboy and Omaha. After that round, Halo announced that it was time for the winner’s tournament, and that whoever won the game would then be challenged by a member of the losing team.

“Sorry, Phoenix, but I’m afraid I have to do this.” Eliza said solemnly from across the net, before mercilessly spiking the ball just out of Phoenix’s reach.

Phoenix gasped and panted, “I mean, you don’t have to do this!” She replied.

As they played, Halo’s team consulted as to who they were going to send up against the winner. “It’s obvious that Eliza is going to win, and I say we send Rooster up against her, to throw her off.” Said Coyote, and many of the others nodded in assent.

Halo laughed, “Why would that throw her off? I’m the best player, why don’t I go up against you?”

Coyote rolled his eyes, “You may be the best player on our team, but you don’t stand a chance against her. Rooster and her have that weird tension going on, we’ll use that to our advantage.”

Halo looked noticeably put out, as Rooster asked, “Don’t I get a say in this?” He paused for a moment, “Also, what tension are you talking about?”

Coyote scoffed, “We don’t have time for that, their match is almost over. Everyone in favor of Rooster versus Eliza, say aye.”

The majority of the group murmured their agreement, and Rooster was soon getting his shoulders rubbed by Yale as Coyote and Halo attempted to give him a strategy talk. “Your main advantage is that you’ve got about a foot of height on her.” Halo said.

“We have seen that she can make up for it in vertical.” Rooster argued.

“It’s still your best choice, if you can just keep her from getting the ball over the net, you can keep the advantage!” Coyote said.

“Fine, fine.” Rooster muttered, but he was not looking forward to going up against Eliza.

Soon Phoenix and Eliza’s game was over, and Fanboy called over to Halo, “Who have you chosen to sacrifice?”

“Rooster.” Halo replied, pushing him forward slightly.

Rooster swallowed hard, and stepped forward, prepared to meet his fate. He stood across the net from her and shook her hand, but from the way Eliza was grinning, Rooster knew his team’s strategy of trying to throw her off wasn’t going to work. Well, how bad can it be? He asked himself, backing up, and readying for Eliza’s first serve. “Sorry in advance for this, Rooster!” Eliza called.

Rooster simply grimaced in response, and prayed that he wouldn’t be too humiliated.

*

Hope you enjoyed this latest installment as much as I enjoyed writing it! My inbox is open to comments, questions, critiques, etc! 💙

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[silver-blooded-synthetics]

@lebutterfly-effect asked:

🎶 - What kind of music does your muse listen to? Do they have a favorite genre? Do you think the aux cord would be taken away from them? 💤 - How does your muse sleep? Are they a light sleeper, or are they out the moment their head hits the pillow? Do they nap? Do they struggle to sleep due to things like insomnia, or nightmares? 💘 - What is your muse like when they're in love? What does your muse find attractive in someone else? What are their love languages? How do they show affection? Do they show any distinct signs that they're in love? {for Errol & Alma} (just wanted to know more about Aly and Gia's favorite boys)

What kind of music does your muse listen to? Do they have a favorite genre? Do you think the aux cord would be taken away from them?

Alma: he has a very wide range of music he listens to, including genres like classical, new age, folk music, rock/pop, heavy metal, rap, EDM, and lots of other types. He finds that when he isn't allowed to express himself, listening to music helps him feel his emotions and get them out of his system without causing a scene. He prefers anything instrumental, but that can fall under just about any genre you can think off. He likes softer stuff usually, but sometimes the harder stuff is needed to get the right emotion out of his system. His music taste is very eclectic, so he probably would get the AUX cord taken away from him just because he can't pick a vibe and stick to it and will go from something mellow and relaxed straight to a song that's wild and obnoxious without warning.

Errol: he also likes a lot of different stuff but prefers folk music and hard rock most. He also gets into the weird stuff that doesn't have a solid name for the genre. He enjoys singing and playing/writing his own music too. He'll do covers as well upon request. He might not get the AUX cord taken from him as quickly, but once he turns to the less popular and more weird indie stuff, it's hit or miss with other people.

How does your muse sleep? Are they a light sleeper, or are they out the moment their head hits the pillow? Do they nap? Do they struggle to sleep due to things like insomnia, or nightmares?

Alma: he tends to fall asleep quickly, almost instantly, but he can sometimes get nightmares that make him a restless sleeper where he will toss and turn and wake up a lot in the middle of the night. However, if he doesn't have nightmares, he's a light sleeper but doesn't move around much at all and will stay in the same position he fell asleep in all night. He doesn't usually nap during the day and doesn't need as much sleep as most people do. He's an early riser. Alma tends to have reoccurring dreams about a white hallway full of doors that lead to new dreams. Sometimes he unexplainably has dreams that foreshadow events that will happen in the future. He isn't sure how this is possible though.

Errol: this boy is the most restless sleeper you will ever meet. Tossing, turning, flailing, twitching, odd positions, mumbling incoherently, straight up talking in his sleep. He has frequent nightmares but can never tell you what they were about because he never remembers his dreams. He swears he doesn't dream at all, but anyone who's heard him sleep talk knows he does. His restlessness can be quelled somewhat by cuddling him, as when he has someone to hold onto, he doesn't flail around as much and has less unpleasant dreams. When he doesn't have a warm body to cuddle, he gets shit sleep though. He will nap sometimes and needs more sleep than normal. He's a night owl and tends to stay up late and sleep in late when he can get away with it.

What is your muse like when they're in love? What does your muse find attractive in someone else? What are their love languages? How do they show affection? Do they show any distinct signs that they're in love?

Alma: he gets braver and feels more complete when he's with someone who validates him. It takes him a while to realize his feelings, so he's almost always a slow burn romance, but once he does figure out that he loves someone, he is unwaveringly loyal. He would do anything for his love and he thinks about them constantly. They are always his first priority, even above himself. Alma finds kindness, a sense of wonder, and intelligence attractive, and also will admire someone with emotional maturity and confidence. His love language is quality time, but one could argue that info dumping is even more a love language for him. He loves sharing knowledge with the people he loves, be it teaching, learning, or experiencing something new with them. It's obvious when Alma is in love with someone when he can't stop thinking about them and wants to spend time with them always. Another strong sign that he loves someone is if he allows them to touch him without flinching. He's a bit haphephobic (fear of physical contact with other people) and only enjoys being touched by others when he cares about them a great deal and trusts them.

Errol: when he's in love, the most obvious change in Errol is that he will start putting them before himself as a priority and actually cares deeply if they are hurt or upset. Normally he always puts himself first and doesn't genuinely care about others. This changes with someone he loves. He finds uniqueness attractive, as well as defied expectations, people who break away from societal norms. He has a lot of different types physically and can appreciate just about any body out there, but when it comes to personality, he wants someone who stands out, at least a little. Errol's love language is definitely physical touch, as he is a very tactile person. Physical affection is his favorite way to show he cares and he's a bit needy when it comes to getting it from other people too. So much so that he has a hard time respecting physical boundaries sometimes and will just casually touch someone without asking. Aside from touch, quality time is also an important love language for him. Errol shows love by showing interest in his partner's hobbies, likes, and interests, talking with them about deeper topics, and of course, lots of cuddles and kisses. Errol does become extremely protective, possessive, and can get jealous sometimes when he's in love with someone. He'll want to be with them whenever possible and can get a bit obsessive. He means well but can come off a bit... Toxic.

[woundedheartwithin]

Directors cut!

Wow this was harder than I thought it’d be! Sorry it took so long lol

Since there’s no specific fic requested here, I decided to ramble a bit about Like Static because that’s my most recently posted fic and it’s just very special to me to begin with. It’s the first Judgment fic I wrote and it’s one I go back to and read often, and I could honestly talk about it all day. I’ll just talk about the very first part because I’ve been dying to talk about it but nobody has asked lmao. If anyone wants to ask about another specific part of this fic in particular, please feel free!

More under the cut

I’ve talked at length in the past of how I don’t think folks play up the severity of Yagami’s injuries at the end of Judgment, including the game itself (even though they did an excellent job of not ignoring it with the first person section and all the hallucinations, I just wish there was some end game acknowledgment), and this fic was the very first manifestation of that. I wrote this literally directly after I finished the main story, like literally put my controller down on the end game summary page and wrote the first part right then

I really wanted to explore head trauma in general and how fuzzy and disoriented you feel after getting knocked in the head real hard, and I wanted to do that from the perspective of someone with repressed feelings for Yagami. And while it could be argued that just about everyone in the game has repressed feelings for our dear lawyer turned detective, yagashi is my absolute otp because, well, there’s really nothing better than enemies to friends to lovers is there? Now I’ve had a concussion or two, so I pulled a little from my own experience in regards to how difficult it is to actually focus when your brain’s been scrambled. Your head hurts and you just feel kinda tired, and everything’s too bright and loud and confusing to really grab and hold onto. Briefly losing consciousness and collapsing is a very, very weird experience even when head trauma isn’t involved, but when you stack the physical pain and everything that’s going on in your brain, it’s actually rather distressing just in general, and that’s from the perspective of someone who has only had minor head trauma with rather mild concussions (thanks Woody). Now imagine how Yagami must have been feeling

But I also pulled quite a bit from a cop show I watch (hold your criticism). I watch those game warden shows on Animal Planet a lot because conservation law is very interesting to me, and there was an episode of Northwoods Law where one of the wardens was hit hard on his atv by a speeding side-by-side. He was thrown from his atv and ended up with a pretty serious head injury, and while he could recount exactly what had happened to his partner directly after the accident, by the time the paramedics got there, he’d forgotten all the details. By the time they took him in the ambulance, he was asking what had happened to him like he couldn’t remember even vague details anymore. He knew he’d been in an accident, but he couldn’t remember what kind of accident or how it had happened. That was endlessly fascinating to me. How scary must that have been for the warden’s partner, who knew the nature of head trauma because of his first aid training? How scary would that experience be for someone who doesn’t know any of that? I had been wanting to explore that idea for a long, long time before I wrote this, and so when Yagami fell out of a two story building into traffic and cracked his head on the pavement after he’d gotten thrown like 20 feet, I knew what I had to do. And in his two rounds with the Mole, and this is probably the best possible scenario for me to explore as a writer lol