#Bonnie Hawke

[alexrainbow]

First look at the FNAF Chapter in Dead by Daylight!

[sapphiccharacterstournament]

Canon Sapphic Characters Tournament Round 4/Semifinals (Bracket 3)

[greypetrel]

☀️ Greetings from the Western Approach ☀️

Science bros including @shivunin's Maria and Bonnie the crash test dummy skeleton (who was provided a dress and a ribbon isn't she pretty) took a picture to send back to families. You know. Good old postcards.)

I had fun writing this prompt with Maria that I wanted to draw them all together. And not only them. *spoiler*

[giveamadeuschohisownmovie]

My own fancast of “Red Dead Redemption” (part 1):

1) Taylor Kitsch as John Marston

2) Christian Bale as Arthur Morgan

3) Lance Henriksen as Landon Ricketts

4) Kevin Costner as Dutch Van Der Linde

5) Tatiana Maslany as Abigail Roberts-Marston

6) Ethan Hawke as Micah Bell

7) Jodie Comer as Bonnie MacFarlane

(NOTE: I did age the characters up a bit, but did keep in mind the canon age gaps)

[thekylemeredith]

Tonight I'm hanging with #mayahawke to talk about the film Wildcat, which finds her starring as and telling the stories of #flanneryoconnor!

The Vaccines & Boy From The South also drop in & we'll revisit a favorite interview with #BonnieRaitt.

6p ET on 91.9 WFPK

[unnamed-idi0t]

Spooky month costumes✨✨

[cordeliawhohung]

Touch Me 'Till I Vomit (pet!au) [4]

pet!au part 4 | ghoap x fem!reader

simon goes shopping

cw: non-con, dark content, groping, oral (m!), non-con videoing, voyeurism, thoughts of violence

Department stores always had such a synthetic scent to them it made Simon sick.

It was the last place he wanted to visit after a long day of butchering animals and cutting them into palatable pieces. Yet there was something he needed, which proved difficult to find. Plastic was incorporated into everything those days — weaved into food bags and molded into anything one could think of. Cheap trash. Something that broke too easily, unlike flesh and metal. 

Needless to say, the brute looked at the rack of dog collars with disappointment as nothing but plastic and nylon stared back at him. Fluorescent reflective yellow, glittery princess pink — disgusting. They were poorly crafted, items that would fray and break within no time. Putting either of his pets in something so gaudy seemed inhumane, and his nose twitched underneath his mask at the very thought. No, he needed something more dignified. Something real. 

Thick-soled work boots hit the concrete floor with a dull thud as Simon rounded the other side of the rack. It took everything in him not to scoff at the plump purple faux leather collar that greeted him on the second row, but as his eyes meandered downwards, he finally caught sight of the good stuff. Dark cow skin tanned and conditioned into lovely leather. His knees creaked as he bent down and reached a hand towards one of the collars. Smooth, and it smelled leagues better than the synthetic shit a few rows above. 

Once he made his choice of a dark brown leather collar chosen just for you, there was only one more thing Simon needed to retrieve before returning home to you and Johnny. 

Your name. 

Simon wasn’t interested in the shaped cut tags the engraving machine offered. Dog bones, stars — all of it. Cliche. Annoying. Though he was certain Johnny would have rather you had the heart shaped tag, he went with a simple circle to engrave the name Bonnie onto it. Of course he knew your other name, your old name. The one on your lease and your driver's license. It didn’t suit you. And you were under his care, now. A new life demanded a new name, after all. 

As the machine whirred and whined in front of him, Simon snuck his phone out of his pocket. Several customers milled around the aisles behind him as he opened an app that sported a house-shaped icon and was instantly brought to a live feed of the rooms in the house. The videos illuminated in a grid on his phone, though the images were too small to clearly see the contents, he knew exactly where he could find you and Johnny.  

Clicking on the live feed from the bedroom, Simon nearly smirked when the video popped up on his screen. Johnny had you bare naked on the bed, head leaning over the side of the mattress as you laid on your back, legs flailing. Unlike earlier that morning, your shirt had finally been torn off and discarded next to the rest of your unnecessary garments, and Johnny pawed at your tits like the dog he was as he pumped his cock into your mouth. 

Had the audio been on, Simon knew exactly what he would have heard. Johnny’s pathetic grunts, and your gagging and panting as you struggled with the harsh angle your neck bent at. He scolded the man in his mind. The pace he set was too fast and brutish for you to get any air in, yet he didn’t listen to your pitiful attempts at non-verbal communication as you pushed back on his hips. 

That wasn’t his first round with you that day, and he figured it wouldn’t be his last. Simon had watched the cameras like a hawk that morning when he left for work and witnessed every second of Johnny fucking your thighs. Pathetic. Almost cute. So close to your cunt yet not quite the real deal. Had to make sure his pup listened to the rules, and while he was very close to breaking them, Simon was rather impressed with the man’s self restraint. 

He would have hated to get rid of you had his silly pup fucked you properly.

The machine in front of him beeped, signaling the completion of your freshly engraved tag, yet Simon’s eyes refused to look anywhere else but his phone. Johnny’s hips began to stutter, yet he pressed his cock so far down your throat he could nearly see the bulge of it. Your body thrashed as you tried to squirm from his grasp, but Johnny’s grip on your torso kept you pinned to the bed as his fingers pinched and pulled at your nipples. 

With one final thrust, Johnny sunk himself into you and threw his head back, and Simon could nearly hear the groan in his mind. His fucked out, mouth opened gaze trained on the ceiling as his spend trickled down your throat. Silly pup nearly forgot to let you breathe until he all but collapsed off the side of the bed, pulling his cock out of your mouth in the process. 

You sat up much too fast and collapsed onto your side as coughs rattled your body. Even through the graininess of the camera, Simon could see the spit and cum dribble down your chin and onto the mattress. A real fucking mess. One he wasn’t excited to clean up when he got home. 

Simon turned his phone off with a sigh before he retrieved your tag out of the machine. A large thumb grazed over your new name, and he pocketed that along with his phone before going to pay for your collar. 

The bold cashier that was unfortunate enough to serve Simon looked at him with his towering height, intimidating mask, and concerning choice of merchandise with what could only be described as faint disgust accompanied by caution. Simon doubled down on his cold expression, eyes screaming to the man about the ten different ways he knew how to butcher a human. Neither man spoke a word to one another as the item was scanned, yet Simon wished he had grabbed his knife instead of cash when he was asked to pay for it. Animals shouldn’t look at owners like that. As if he was a monster. If an animal wasn’t a pet, then the only look he should have received was fear. 

Instead, he grabbed the collar the moment the man took his cash, and he didn’t look back as he exited the store, even as the clerk called after him asking about his change.

[evilgwrl]

Super in love with your work it's amazing.

So I had this idea maybe you'd like? Just an idea: Do with it what you will

So reader is a coworker with Simon, and she's like super strong-willed, doesn't take bullshit from anyone type person, good at what she does and knows it, and Simon fucking loves that, loves a woman that can put someone in their place. He thinks it's just respect at first, but one day, he sees her yelling at some recruits and gets so turned on from the sight that he can't think of anything else.

Interested with what you might do with it or how you'd continue it if you decide to write it

Have a nice rest or your day either way

I love this!!

CW: Military inaccuracies, Ghost gets boners for you, sexual tensions and allusions to further smut but nothing graphic

They called you Hawk due to your impeccable eyesight. You were hard-headed with a vast efficiency to pinpoint a target miles away, your bullet already penetrating the air before others could even see it. You were a quick fit into the Task Force with a shabby sense of humour and ability to take control.

Working in a male-dominated industry should’ve scared you, but it didn’t. You were a whirlwind on your feet, easily able to toggle areas and courses without even a remote struggle. You thrived at what you did, constantly garnering respect from those around you. Maybe that’s why Ghost was so intrigued by you.

He tied it down to a “respect thing”, enjoying that a woman was able to put anyone in their place no matter the size of who she was dealing with. That’s why he was slightly confused at the growing bulge in his cargo pants.

Your face was contorted in frustration, tangled eyebrows furrowed as you yelped commands at a group of soldiers. Your hands were resting on your hips, a scowl on your face as you groaned.

“Private Matthews, did I or did I not say that you should never take your eye off an opponent?”

“You did, ma’am.”

“You will refer to me as Sergeant, private,” you snapped, “Get back in the ring and do it correctly this time.”

Ghost adjusted, turning his attention back to the group of soldiers before him, barking out his own orders, umber eyes occasionally darting over to you, entranced at how simple it was for you to command.

You were seated next to Soap, ass flush on the seat as you grumbled about how idiotic some people were, bragging about how certain you were that you were never there incompetent.

“Aye, lass, can’t all be like you, can we?”

You nudged the Scotsman’s shoulder, offering him a toothy smile as you went on to joke around. Ghost watched you as he approached, looking at the way your eyes were always high, never stooping to the ground with discomfort. You smiled as the Lieutenant joined you, missing the way his eyes racked over you.

“Bonnie here was just saying she could easily tackle you in a shuttle run, LT,” Soap joshed, earning you an eye roll.

“That so?” Ghost’s voice was naturally loud, a deep husk protruding from every word as he looked at you. You shrugged, tossing him a teasing smirk.

“Won’t know until we find out, will we Lieutenant?”

Ghost could feel himself straining again, pants tightening at your display of confidence before you excused yourself, muttering about hitting the gym to wear you out. Ghost was quick to follow, scoffing down the remainder of his food and rushing out a goodbye before heavy feet were trailing behind you.

You were clad in a loose pair of gym shorts, a well-fitted green singlet sporting against your skin as gloved fists pummelled a punching bag. You were quick, feet skidding against the ground as you huffed out shallow breaths.

“You have good form,” Ghost spoke, clearing his throat.

You turned around, hair swishing in a messy pony as you looked at him, brow raised, “Did you doubt me, Lieutenant?”

“Unsure. Never sparred with you, ‘ave I, Hawk?”

“You asking to spar with me, Ghost?”

He rolled his eyes as you walked up to him, a cocky smirk on your face as you got into position. You were both quick, entangled limbs battering against one another as you both ducked, blurting out expletives as your clothes moulded with trickles of sweat.

Ghost was practically mesmerised by the way you moved, somehow making sparring look elegant. The Lieutenant knocked you to your feet, your body crashing onto the ground with a slam as you groaned, staring up at him with irked eyes.

“Didn’t anyone warn you to take it easy on a lady?” You miffed; your face contorted with annoyance as you glared at him.

Ghost frowned slightly, taking in your pained expression before he was knocked between the ankles, joining you on the ground as you giggled out a laugh, clambering on top of him with a finger gun pointed to his head.

“Shouldn’t underestimate your opponents, LT, no matter how annoyed they look.”

Ghost let out a grunt as he flipped the two of you over, your hands pinned above your head. “Never underestimated you, sweet’art.”

Your bodies radiated heat, thick smog of tension pummelling into the atmosphere as your eyes interlocked. You licked your lip, forehead wet with salty moisture as you maintained composure.

“You gonna keep me like this all night, Lieutenant?” Your tone was sultry, wringing him in with every syllable as he pressed against you, growing bulge prominent against your clothed sex as you glanced down.

“Thinking about it.”

[thelastairsimblr]

Family Pack #4

I’m happy to share some sims with you all today! In this post, you’ll find 12 households (40 sims total), each with their own stories and biographies. All of these sims have additional Everyday outfits, skills, bonus traits, Likes and Dislikes, sexual orientations, pronouns, family dynamics, and Lifestyles. You can find them all on the gallery under my Origin ID: TheLastAirSimmer or in the tray files linked under the cut! As always, feel free to tag me if you end up using them.

Abreu

A respected food critic, Maria’s opinion is highly valued by all as the towns’ baked good connoisseur. Her husband Joaquin, a renowned pianist, is no exception; he worships the ground she walks on. Together, they project their creative outlooks onto their sons. Santiago, the eldest and a romantic, has the full support of his parents and wants to become a professional wedding photographer. Even though young Rémy feels he didn’t inherit his parents’ imagination, he still wants to make them proud.

Naval

Aparna owned her own restaurant while raising her two girls alone. Hema was able to help out when she was old enough, allowing Aparna to find success and receive critical acclaim by publishing her own cookbook. Today, Hema is focusing on her engineering studies while trying to find love; she’s very smart and sincere, but a bit naive. Ridhi is chasing a riskier path; she wants to be a famous musician. And while Aparna hopes that this is just a phase, she supports her youngest daughter anyway.

Monaghan

As young parents, Stefan and Marianne sacrificed a lot. Stefan became a cop to support his family, but still gets caught up trying to relive his youth from time to time. Marianne longs for the day that she can quit her job at the local diner and become a singer. Soren feels pressure to please his parents, but really just want to play videogames all day while Tatum and Aria constantly bicker, not at all concerned with their parents’ feelings or the wellbeing of Hunter, who just wants attention.

Larson

Quite the jazz singer in his day, Clive is desperate to find ways to stay relevant in the ever-changing music scene. Fiona, longing for the authentic soul who serenaded her years ago, knows she can inspire him again; she’s stood by him through a lot. But until then, you can find the melancholy art critic drinking to yesteryear at the bar. Jade dropped out of college to pursue a career in social media (much to Fiona’s discontent) while Candice is following the artistic path her parents paved.

Agawa

Ever the class clown, Yuto knew that he had a knack for entertaining people. This was only confirmed after he went viral on Social Bunny for the first time! When he told his parents that he wanted to pursue a life in the public eye, they saw it as further evidence that he couldn’t take anything seriously. He makes a decent living streaming video games and his eccentric personality is pure internet gold. Though to be fair, he should probably be a bit cautious with what he says and does online.

Hollifield

As a teen, Whitney’s future looked bright. But she forfeited a lot of opportunities to pursue a whirlwind romance with a boy who had a dangerous edge. They were happy for a time, but it didn’t last and the only thing she kept from that relationship was her daughter Emma. She now works a lowly job in fast food while taking classes at Britechester, hoping to find a career in social media. Her days are busier as a working single mom, but Emma keeps herself entertained by befriending her neighbors.

Catton

Following the loss of her son to avoidable circumstances, Dottie found herself in the care of his two children. Filled with regret for not doing more for her son, the college professor watches the kids like a hawk! She’s keen on using her connections to better their lives. Temperamental Owen does well to make her proud with his grades, but he has an artsy side that he only shares with those closest to him. His little sister Bonnie would rather spend time making friends than studying though.

Qian

After founding a groundbreaking app, Shirong found a place among the company of the rich and powerful. His charming wife Meifing, quite the schmoozer at elite parties, is constantly looking for funding for her next big venture (while also being the go-to-girl for all the neighborhood gossip). Nuo chose to move home after grad school to save money, but is ready to leave and start her own law firm. Her younger brother Haoyu adds to her restlessness by barraging her with his antics.

Sullivan

Atticus’ dad Clifford, a retired veteran, supported his sons’ musical dreams fully, having raised him alone after his wife died. While roaming the world, Atticus met Elisa; a fashion guru with a fiery disposition. The pair had three children and Clifford moved in to help with the newborn. Like her dad, Lydia also wants to be an artist (whether if it’s for her love for acting or a desire to be in the spotlight remains to be seen) while Malicia, afraid of being unseen, finds relief in her friends.

Kingsley-Ramirez

Jaime and Paxton met/moved in together before they could actually get to know each other, both having been new to the city at the time with zero connections. They found themselves compatible not only as roommates, but eventually boyfriends as well! Jaime always puts others before himself; it shows in the passion he has for social justice causes he advocates for. Meanwhile, Pax works a parttime job at a small coffee shop, but is intent on putting himself through school to become a veterinarian.

Tanaka-Murdock

Nigel and Shannon met at Foxbury and developed feelings for each other during study sessions. Though Nigel was the only one to graduate, he admires Shannon for making the decision that was right for her. He enjoys being the breadwinner while Shannon follows her artistic instincts, though he wishes he had his wife’s free spirit. Shannon is quite hard on herself and works tirelessly until she makes something she’s proud of while their son Kason, while a quick learner, really just wants to play.

Miyake

Even if he’s never been the most social person, Kenzo is a loyal and fierce friend to those lucky enough to make it into his circle. A patron of the sciences, he cares deeply about precision and perfection. However, when it comes to raising his son Akira, he wants the boy to follow his own path, even if it’s not exactly the one he would choose for himself. Akira seems to be doing just that; far more sociable than his father, he never fails to leave a lasting impression on anyone he meets.

[herpsandbirds]

Favorite common birds of North America? I personally like the house sparrow, because it reminds me of the Eurasian Tree Sparrow :) +and any hawks you appreciate? I like the red-tailed hawk especially.

Favorite common birds of the US (to narrow it down):

I know these birds may be pedestrian (and obvious) to some of y'all, but I love them so... keep in mind I live and work in the SE United States and South Texas.

Blue Jays (Cyanocitta cristata) causing a ruckus, family Corvidae, order Passeriformes, eastern U.S.

photograph by @jocelynandersonphotography

Carolina Wrens (Thryothorus ludovicianus), family Trogolodytidae, order Passeriformes, Louisiana, USA

photograph by Bonnie Barry

Red-winged Blackbird (Agelaius phoeniceus), male, family Icteridae, northern United States

It is estimated that this is the most numerous native bird in the United States.

photograph by RL Hambley

Eastern Screech Owl (Megascops asio), FUKCIBNG SCREMMMM!!!, family Strigidae, order Strigiformes, found in the Eastern U.S.

photograph by Matt Cuda

Harris’s Hawk (Parabuteo unicinctus), family Accipitridae, being chased away by a Northern Mockingbird (Mimus polyglottos), family Mimidae, Santa Clara Ranch, TX, USA

photograph by @hector_astorga_photography

[greypetrel]

I genuinely can't remember if I sent a prompt yet! If I haven't (and if I am understanding the list right):

[ lay ] for Aisling (and maybe Maria?)

Hi Mo!

Yes you did actually asked it and I threw down some ideas but… If I can use Maria?? Ok well I jumped at the chance. It got… Longer than I would but I just had to include a little experiment. (which was loosely inspired by an experiment of the Mythbusters. The original involved a frozen turkey, but I guess Aisling would be firmly against wasting food, even for science.)

Not gonna lie, I’m pretty nervous about this and I really REALLY hope I got her right and did her justice! Thank you for letting me play with your lovely baby, it’s been so nice to see them interact!

Tis the prompt list

Three Cards Trick (🎶)

[ lay ] for your muse to come rest their head in mine’s lap or against their shoulder

It took her a while to warm up, and in hindsight, it took the both of them surprisingly little.

At first Aisling tried to kept her distance from the Champion, keeping exquisitely polite in a shy way but at the same time never being the first to start a conversation or look for the other’s company. She had mixed feelings towards the woman, truth to be told: she had only admiration for her, from what she read in Varric’s book and heard from him. The first impression she had was of a kind person that knew her boundaries very well and didn’t back up if she had to protect the people she cared for. And she admired that in her.

And yet, speaking with Cassandra left something deeply bitter in her throat. It was all but ten days since the Seeker rejected her feelings, and hearing the woman say out loud that if Hawke had been at the Conclave, the Divine wouldn’t have died. That they planned on having Hawke as Inquisitor, not her… It hurt. It hurt her more than she would care to admit, and she felt like a plan C at best, an obliged choice at worst. It didn’t help the fact that as Aisling was struggling with adapting to a whole set of things that were wildly new for her, Hawke seemed to navigate everything with ease and charm. Hawke knew how to behave in high society, Aisling barely knew how to properly behave with commoners, and even then there was something that didn’t fit well. Hawke didn’t seem to struggle with socks and closed shoes for formal events, didn’t need to pay attention to every single step because she felt constantly slipping, even if the shoes were flat and securely tied on her ankles with ribbons. Hawke was Andrastian and surely she wouldn’t have been feeling the stab and her mouth sour, and a deep sense of betrayal every time someone called her the Herald.

And yet, Hawke was kind and gentle. Hawke helped her during a formal dinner escaping the clutches of an overly-enthusiast Comtesse that kept talking and talking with Aisling about the latest fashion in Orlais -which Aisling knew nothing of and cared for even less. She appeared and charmed the Comtesse enough to let her slip the Inquisitor away. There was no blame, just solidarity between girls thrown in positions they never dreamed of having as children, that they were never prepared for. 

“You’re so better than me, at this.” Aisling slipped out, tired of hiding it. She didn’t specify how she meant more than just the formal soirèe.

Maria stopped, right in front of the dais. The throne loomed over them, imposing and red. Aisling hated it and its spikes, and hated herself for having made the Champion frown like so at her.

“You’re good. It’s just all new, it was displacing for me as well the first times I was amongst nobles… And it was just Kirkwall and I was just serrah Hawke, before being the Champion. And I am Andrastian.”  Maria told her, as convinced as she was before. “You’re doing great.”

Aisling felt even guiltier, and sorry for blaming her and for wishing their roles were reversed, even if for a minute. A smile of encouragement from the other woman, a gentle squeeze on her arm, and she was suddenly sure of what to do next, warmed up by the exchange and decided to make amend and show the other she was welcomed. She smiled at her, it was the first sincere smile of the evening, and nodded, in a silent thank you.

“I heard there was some urgent business in the Undercroft, I received word before the Comtesse blocked me.” She told her. “Would you like to join me, Champion?”

Her smile brightened, and lit her up. “I would be glad, Inquisitor.”

Aisling timidly slipped her arm to hook with Maria’s once again -she was happy to see that the woman answered readily to the gesture- and it was her turn to guide her towards the small side door. A look left and right just to see that they hadn’t all the eyes pointed on them, and they both slipped in the door, to meet with Dorian and Dagna, waiting for them down there with tiny sandwiches and a cake.

Maria revealed to be even better company than just in a boring soirèe you need saving for. Aisling felt the click, and all it took was a cospirational exchange of whispers in each other’s ears with Dorian, just for show and some flare, to have her invited for afternoon experiments. Particularly after Dorian struggled with a term in Tevene that he just couldn’t remind the translation of and Maria showed that she understood in his language.

And from there, all went into place, any bitterness was left in the far back of her head, casted away by how nice of a person Maria was and how refreshing it was to talk with her, and how she seemed to rely on touch as much as Aisling was.

From then, all their experiments were done in a trio, no more just a duo.

---

The Western Approach was, in spite of everything, the first time since Haven when Aisling felt really, truly in control and like she wasn’t a ruse in the role she covered.

It was considerably close to everything she was taught and knew, and she felt considerably more at home than she ever did since leaving her clan. The desert wasn’t the easiest environment to navigate, but it wasn’t her first time. Working over time to teach the others and give some much needed advices (convincing Varric that just going shirtless was not the wisest course of action, not if he didn’t want to become a roasted dwarf with how fair a skin he had was a feat by itself) didn’t feel like that much of a burden. She was happy -when she wasn’t stressing over a tell-tale lack of letters from a certain Commander she had revealed maybe the wrong anecdote to- and in her field, and finally she stopped feeling like a fish trying to climb a tree.

Having Maria there just added to her confidence, adding one friend more, and the one friend that she could communicate the best with, save Dorian. She really liked her, she was funny and charming, and having another person that was touchy-feely was a bliss.

In spite of the darkspawn, the Venatori and the varghests that sought them off even if Aisling guided them well out of the way to avoid them (she knew they were aggressive… She didn’t know how stubborn and insisting the creatures could actually be, following them until they engaged)… In spite of all that, she felt some respite.

That is, until they finally made their way to the Ritual Tower and met with Magister Erimond. He was so kind as to reveal his plan to them (Aisling looked at Dorian with a silent question in her eyes, but the Altus just shrugged and told her he had no idea why he had just spilled everything to them), and… And it was enough to leave the party with a chilling feeling about them, and crash the good morale that had formed in the past days.

They made camp in a chokehold not so distant, between old ruins watching over a minor canyon with a river on the bottom and a steep rocky formation. Easy to defense and easy to spot approaching enemies.

She was writing some reports to send back to Skyhold, sitting on the wicker matting that covered the floor of her tent. She had the luxury of having one for herself, which doubled as her sleeping spaces and war room. In her letter, she explained the situation in a code that Leliana taught her and that hopefully would have told just the Spymaster to accelerate the preparations and get the army there quicker than they initially had planned to, with no one else the wiser. All she had to do, now, was clean the area enough for the army to travel there safely… And hopefully, freeing the big fortress that loomed on the horizon to house the big bulk of the Inquisition forces. Her tent was growing considerably hotter and hotter as the sun travelled up in the sky, the light cloth shading the inside not enough to provide much freshness. Luckily enough, tho, she was a mage, and she was skilled with spells that dealt with weather and air.

So, she just concentrated and wove her hand mindlessly in the air, weaving a spell to keep the air inside the tent cooler, slowing down the tiniest particles that formed the air, just short of creating clouds. Definitely better. She sighed and kept on writing, biting the back of her quill in concentration thinking of the best way to word a sentence, and minding to keep her cursive as readable as possible.

Five minutes later, someone cleared their throat just outside.

It was Maria, something harsh in her expression that Aisling couldn’t quite place. She made space beside her, and let her sit with their back resting on the wooden frame of her cot. If both of them weren’t able to fall asleep, they may as well keep each other company. Particularly, Maria noted with a little resentment just for fun, if the Inquisitor’s tent was so fresh.

Aisling laughed and explained her the spell. It was nothing much, she said: she had always a knack for spells that meddled with air and the water within. That’s why she went for Storm spells, and it was really another way to bend that specialization. She explained how the air, if you concentrate enough to feel it, is but made of tiny, tiny particles that you can move and bend as you wish, drawing from the Fade. It’s all a matter of movement and drawing some fire and scattering its heath around when needed, or dragging out the Fade particles that were calmer and thus cooler. Dorian could surely explain the theory better, she told the other women: she was just good with the practice and on knowing how things work and how to make them work, but the one with actual explanation was the other science bro.

Maria didn’t seem to mind much, tho. Maybe it was the endless chattering Aisling always fell into when she talked about things she liked or was passionate about, maybe it was the gentler temperature of the room. Maybe it was, for both, finding a moment of breath and lightness after the punch in the guts that had been the Ritual tower and the battle that followed. Maybe it was that, but the moment, sitting there shoulder to shoulder, felt cozy and warm enough.

“I don’t know how you do it.” Aisling told her again, without the bitterness of the first time around.

“What, this time?”

“I think I would be running around screaming or just frozen in a corner, if I knew my brother could be sacrificed to call demons forth. It’s just…” She snorted, furrowing at her hand clenching on the wood. “… I know I am not exactly the right person to condemn magical experiments, but that… That is just wrong.”

A sigh from her left, and a head resting on her shoulder as the hand slipped in the crook of her elbow and rested there. It felt a request for comfort more than an offering for the same, this time.

“I’m here because of that.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. You’re helping and… Thank you.”

Aisling let the writing board and her letter down. She knew it was urgent and every hour that passed was precious… But she didn’t have it in her to prioritize politics and strategy to a friend in need. And that was what Maria had become in those weeks. A friend.

She bent her arm and rested the opposite hand on hers, making herself more comfortable, leaning ever so slightly towards the other to make her presence known and felt. It wasn’t the most comfortable position ever, but it was good enough for a nap, she thought. Se gently inclined her head to lean over Maria’s, as she would have done back in the clan. Her hair smelled really nice, she noticed.

“It’s going to be all right. We’ll save how many Wardens we can, I promise.”

“A hard task, with those trebuchets your Commander seemed so fond of in the last War Council.”

“Mh.” Aisling didn’t mind the bitterness. She never really questioned Cullen, and all that passed between them was that he treated her well.

But it was true that he had been excited -in a very composed and suppressed way- about the trebuchets they had been gifted by a wealthy Fereldan Arl. She rolled the idea in her head, back and forth, thinking about what she read about siege machines and trebuchets in one of the book he lent her. Thinking about how they worked and how could they come to meet different needs. After all, the real issue was that they were charged with rocks. Maybe something else, if launched at a speed that could be calculated, with some spells to affect just rocks and not people…

She poked Maria’s arm with a finger to catch her attention. The Champion, who was dozing off on her shoulder, opened her eyes with a humm of complaint.

“I think we can find a solution for that.”

---

“Watch out!!”

Came a voice from above the battlements, and before anyone could register what was happening, a big roundish sack of jute was falling down at full speed from up in the battlements of Griffon Wing’s Keep.

Soldiers and scout shouted and ran away to safety, and the only two people left in the close proximity of the upcoming boulder were the Inquisitor and the Champion, both looking up at their supposed incoming death, arm in arm and shading their eyes with their hands. A third figure was sitting in front of them, sitting on the ground. Someone screamed at them all to move.

But the two mages didn’t move, nor they met their fate.

With a loud, dull thud, the boulder collided on the sitting figure, seams tearing at the impact and letting out its content on the poor being that didn’t even try to move.

When the cloud of sand that the fall had sent flying deposited back down, all there was were two mages still at their spot, and a mound of a mixture of sand and other scraps of softer materials. Wood chips, some cabbages of cloth, loose feathers that shone purple in the golden hour scattered here and there, too big to belong to birds.

Cullen was awake and around the camp since too little to cope with whatever shenanigan they conjured this time, but nonetheless he approached them anyway, decided to be certain of what exactly was going on and why on earth they decided to throw stuff from the battlements on the head of a poor sould nonetheless. He never thought the day would have come when he would have missed the science bros when they were just two. At least the only damage they ever did was to themselves (and Solas, when they went flying on a cart with wheels), and to the carpet in the rotunda, which never really recovered after taking too much indoor rain and had to be substituted.

“What’s going on?” He asked to both women, who finally had let go of the other -whenever he saw them, they were always connected. Arm in arm, sitting close to each other, one resting her head over the other’s shoulder or napping on the other lap as the other read or wrote, Aisling braiding Maria’s hair. Not that he noticed, or that he was jealous of not having the same amount of attention from the elf, and for being the only one, apparently, that she was shy of touching.

However, they were finally separated, and rummaging through the debris, looking for something.

“We’re in the final phase of the new ammunition experiment.” Aisling reported, without looking up. “If we can just find Bonnie…”

“Bonnie?”

“Found her!” Maria declared, with too much cheer for a person who was hauling up from a mound of sand and wood chips a skeleton’s foot by its ankle.

Aisling whooped in joy and ran to help her unearthing what revealed itself to be a skeleton, not fully cleaned by the desert, which had been dressed with an armour. Between the two, they dragged it out and brought it sitting against the wall of the keep. Maria started to examine it, moving joint after joint and thoroughly examining the bones and the armour with a critical eye, as Aisling get back to digging, crouched down and using both hands. Noticing somehow she was still being stared at, she casted him a glance from below, smiled reassuringly and started to explain as she worked.

“We just need to make sure these will just stop the Wardens and prevent them to fight us any further, without killing them on the spot.”

“But it would be risk-”

“AH!” She exclaimed, lighting up as she pulled hard and extracted an helm from the sand, upside down. She righted it, shaking it to get rid of all the sand inside. “Yes it would be riskier, but…” She declared, turning the piece between her hand, squinting. “…We could save more lives that could be convinced to surrender. It will give us the time to come and ask them… And if they won’t, the killing blow would be easier to impart. Maybe not all of them are into the plan, and they need the chance to get out, don’t you think? Catch it.”

The helm was tossed at Cullen, who stopped it when it collided with his breastplate with a loud clang. He sighed, bringing the helm up and examining, turning slightly on his spot so he could catch more of the gold sunset light. It was bumped and indented on the top, where it was hit, and slipping a hand inside to touch the exact magnitude of the blow was easy enough. It gave him time to think and evaluate pros and cons.

“It’s damaged, but not enough for the skull to break.” He declared, begrudgingly as he still wasn’t fully convinced of the plan. “And it is a commendable aim, but I think that if you want the siege to go quick-”

“Curly’s right, the skull is not broken!” Maria declared, a smile in her voice, as she undid the buckles to Bonnie’s armour and started examining the bones inside. “And nothing else seems broken, the ribs are good.”

“A success with flying colours!” Aisling declared, raising up and patting sand away from her trousers, a big smile on her face as she approached Maria. “It’s a small scale experiment, but it bodes well, doesn’t it?”

“Considering that the Wardens hopefully will have some better armour than poor Bonnie did, I’d think so. Depending on where they fall, at least, but I think it’s the best we can do.”

“So? Did it work? Is Bonnie ok?” Came Dorian, running out from the Keep with Rylen at his side.

Cullen felt a headache coming, and he really, really missed when there were just two mad scientists to deal with… And when they weren’t helped by his second in command. Second in command to whom he launched a glare.

“Don’t look at me.” Rylen defended himself, raising his hands in surrender even if he was still grinning mischievously. “It was an order from the Inquisitor herself, and the Champion of Kirkwall.”

He groaned at him, in all reply, and returned to the bigger problem at hand, still clutching the helm in his hands without thinking much about the exact owner of said garment, and that it was on the head of a random skeleton they found… He didn’t want to know where they found it exactly, since when it had been there, and why they decided to give it a name. The trio of mages was crowding over the skeleton, conversing between them in a mix of Common and Tevene Maria adapted all too well to. Cullen somehow was sure that they just needed the army because they didn’t have enough time to take Adamant by themselves. Because he was very sure they could have, with enough time to guess a way to make the entrance door explode.

“You forgot a detail.” He interrupted them, and he was met by three pair of eyes that turned toward him, stopping abruptly to talk.

They were huddled so close together, Aisling hugging Maria’s hand and resting her chin on her shoulder and Dorian with a leg casually resting on Aisling’s shin, that when they turned they look more like a three-headed creature from a legend than a simple group of mages.

He cleared his throat.

“That projectile will be absolutely pointless against the bastions. We may as well throw just a bunch of feathers alone.”

The three-headed creature smiled at him, some more sarcastically, and one with more affection. Rylen snickered behind him, and Cullen could distinctly hear him muttering a “Oh, blissful innocence...”.

“Cullen… We’re not Circle mages.”

“I know, but-”

“But-” Maria interrupted him. “-We had a month here to experiment and to think about the problem outside schoolbooks. The big ruin filled with Darkspawn didn’t free itself, you see.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning-” Aisling turned to look at Dorian with a silent question in her eyes.

He considered it, twirling one of his moustaces in his fingers, concentrated.

“It’s still a little bit rough, I’d need to review the numbers a couple of times more and do a couple more trials before calling myself satisfied, but the calculations are correct. Yes, it’s doable, at least on paper. Hawke?”

“The scale we have here is not the most precise thing ever, but with a little approximation I can make it work, yes. If Aisling can attach her little weather enchantment to avoid the gas to spread…”

“Easy as pie, it’s just a couple of runes that won’t interact with the rest of the spell.”

Aisling smiled and turned to the Commander, a glint in her eyes still from above Hawke’s shoulder.

“… Meaning, that we can make the boulders explode on contact with stone, but be mostly harmless for living creatures. It still leaves the problem of the demons, but we’re not sure normal boulders could affect them anyway, so…” She shrugged. “It’s worth a trial, isn’t it? We have the mages to activate the projectiles, after all, it’s an easy and safe enough spell. And they will be way lighter to transport either.

It made sense. Not anything Cullen would have remotely considered, but it was true that they had the mages… And that the three of them had been using magic unsupervised for all their lives and nothing ever happened. It went against all his instincts, but he couldn’t find a way to counter the reasoning. Not if he wanted to savage his friendship with Aisling -and he wanted to, if he could. So, he just took a deep breath and nodded.

“I have one last question.”

Maria rolled her eyes, but Aisling was not phased.

“What is it?”

“Why Bonnie?”

A trio of snickers.

“Why, doesn’t they have the face of a Bonnie?” Dorian asked, moving the skull left and right.

“It’s in her bones!”

Aisling concluded, and all three had such a big smile that the joke for a minute sounded less freezing than it actually was.

[yanderes-galore]

@montygatorshusband said: "My idea was Yandere Glamrock Freddy who gets really attached to a mechanic (reader). Since Freddy had his whole thing with Bonnie, and Bonnie got destroyed, he becomes obsessed with keeping the reader safe. So, Freddy stalks them through their Fazwatch (Which he disguised as an innocent gift). He gets really anxious whenever the reader takes off the watch or even the reader getting a small paper cut. So, Freddy decides to kidnap the reader so they can always be right next to him. In fact, whenever he has to leave, he puts the reader in his chest cavity so they can be *really*be together forever and ever."

A/N: Sure! I love writing Mechanic darlings when it comes to FNAF stories :)

Yandere! Glamrock Freddy with Mechanic! Darling

Pairing: Platonic/Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Grief/Trauma, Fear of loss, Stalking, Paranoia, Overprotective, Manipulation, Kidnapping, Delusional behavior, Major character death, Forced companionship.

Honestly I've always thought Glamrock Freddy is naturally overprotective of you as a yandere.

However I've never considered the loss of Glamrock Bonnie being the reason behind it.

I really like the idea, actually.

After all, Freddy was very close with Bonnie based on his voicelines.

I personally see them as close friends but either way you can tell they were close.

The fact Freddy lost him would have definitely affected him to the point he's scared to share that same connection with anyone else.

It's unknown what truly happened to Bonnie and Freddy would be scared you'd get hurt.

The Pizzaplex has its own dangers and anything can happen.

Bonnie was an animatronic, you're a human mechanic.

You are even more in danger in Freddy's eyes.

Freddy is the naturally friendly type.

Every human, STAFF or child, is usually met with a friendly greeting.

Freddy would get attached to you rather fast, especially as a mechanic.

You help him get ready for shows and often check him over for damage or corrupted upgrades.

He feels you care for him... so he cares for you too.

Which brings up previous feelings about Bonnie.

Along with an overwhelming fear of losing you like the rabbit.

Freddy would definitely slip you a Fazwatch as a gift.

He's so kind to you and plays it off like a small gift for your bond.

Why are you refusing? This is on him!

Even if you say no he'll clip it to your wrist with a smile.

The Fazwatch allows him to communicate with you and allows him to find your position.

It's a gift, yes, but it also doubles as a way to calm his own worries.

For the most part you tolerate his little gift and keep it on during work hours.

Freddy would definitely panic a bit when you take off the watch.

Even when you work on other animatronics you can feel the watch vibrate as Freddy tries to contact you.

He watches your location like a hawk and is never too far from you.

Even if you take it off before you leave or to not get it messy, Freddy frantically rants about it to you.

You have no idea why he's so worried?

Freddy has shown he's capable to determine when a human isn't feeling well.

He would also be very attentive to when you were hurt.

Even if it's as small as a paper cut he asks what happened.

After that he's dragging you to a first-aid station to have you patched up.

The potential dangers of the Pizzaplex are something he thinks of a lot.

With mechanic work you could get shocked, lose a limb, be gutted...

Oh he hates thinking of that.

Reminds him too much of Bonnie.

His worry may indeed take over to the point he feels you shouldn't go home anymore.

It would take a long while but maybe Freddy feels he can keep you safe here.

He's delusional enough to think you'd be happy in his room, all safe and looked after by him.

In terms of the chest cavity thing I feel it would be a hard fit for an adult.

However, if he can manage it, he'd definitely use his chest cavity to carry you around with him at all times.

For the most part he keeps you in his room and out of sight.

Maybe even gags you to prevent you from screaming....

He hates the idea of restraints or gags but... anything to keep you safe.

Then when there's a performance needing to be done, you'll come along!

If he can fit you, that is.

Maybe he'll even find a way to make it soundproof!

He thinks he's making you happy and doesn't see how wrong his actions are.

Freddy just doesn't want to lose you like a certain bunny...

Could you really blame him for being so afraid?

"I'm keeping you safe, aren't I?"

[the-californicationist]

Revocation

MDNI/18+

Had a prompt from my darling bestie @gemmahale who asked about the 141 and how they might react when you revoked your consent for whatever reason. So, I thought I would do one of these little stacky-stacks for the first time to try it out. Don't be mean to me! This is my first time doing this Tumblr list thing. Idek what it's called.

GAZ

Gaz loves to fuck you with a slow, steady beat. His go-to is keeping you wedged tightly underneath him in a prone position so his length can enjoy the thickness of your ass and thighs. But, all it takes is a sudden sharp breath from you and he pauses, stopping his long rod right where it sits to wait and listen for your protests. "Babe? Everything alright?" He slowly slides out of you the rest of the way, your plump lips kissing the tip of his cockhead gently as he leaves you. Curling himself beside you, he'd be so soft and sure to check on your body and your feelings before letting you get back up to speed. Gaz would pet a huge hand down your back, rubbing your skin and making certain you knew he was there to help you feel good.

SOAP

Soap was adamant about having a light system. He would lean next to your ear and ask you to check in with him. "How are you, bonnie? Still green?" And if you said green, he would sigh, keeping up his pace, grunting with enthusiastic pleasure. If you said yellow, he would pause and wait, since you usually elaborated, and he would change whatever tune he needed to for you. Slower? He could fuck you achingly slow. Making sure you felt every inch of his delicious upward curve, and that lusciously thick head of his. If you said red, though, he would go full hands off and turn into aftercare mode real quick. Water, towels, juice, blankets at the ready, eager to give you what you needed to feel like yourself again.

GHOST

Ghost never lets it get to yellow. Never. He couldn't. Every single moment he's watching you like a hawk, noticing your pleasure, listening for your moans to deepen or to lower just enough to tell him you're close to coming. If you move into a position you don't like, he can feel your tension ripple across his cock, and he fixes it immediately, knowing when your breathing quickens or slows how far along you are to riding another wave of pleasure. You're so reactive, and he loves it. He gets off on knowing just the slightest pressure will send you over the edge. And when you come, it is like a maestro at the crest of his symphony, every note in exactly the place where he wants it, feeling you flutter and pulse around him in a perfect little harmony.

Except for that one time when there was a moth. Then, he was immediately on moth duty, full stop and fully naked. But, he was more than happy to cuddle with you after it was safely dispatched.

PRICE

The thing about Price is that he never fuckin' shuts up. The whole time he's kissing you, licking you, biting you. He's talking to you. The whole damn time.

"Yeah, love? You like that?"

"Want more, yeah? Fuck yeah, I'll give you more."

"Tha's it, love. Tha's my good girl. Come for me, just like that. Make those noises, love."

"You alright, love? Need a moment? Let me hold you. C'mere."

"Fuck, you are feeling so good. So pretty. Tell me how I feel, baby. Go on, tell me."

And so the whole time he fucks you, you are gasping in breaths, telling Price everything he wants to know. He wants to know how it feels, how it sounds, if its warm, if its hard, if you can feel the way he throbs inside of you when he comes. He wants every single juicy detail, and he pulls it from you with his hungry coaxing.

So, when you got a leg cramp, he talked you through it, pulling his fat cock from you with a long, wet pop, helping you get into a better position before he applied pressure to the spot, working out your muscle, easing your pain, talking you through the whole thing...

"Tha's it, good girl. Such a good fuckin' girl. Doin' so good for me..."

[morbethgames]

Next Week On Patreon - Nameless Legends!

Alright everyone, time for a little tumblr post here. Next week on the Patreon is a first look at the world I'm contemplating playing around with after The Bureau series is over. Still a long ways out, but if I write scenes related to that world for content here on Patreon, I'll slowly build up a lot of content I can use to kickstart myself into that world when the time is right!

Nameless Legends -

is an idea I had that was kind of a mix of the Fate anime series and the Soul Eater series. Heroes and villains alike get pulled from the past at random when fate deems they have a chance to redo a regret so large that they feel their life was unfulfilled. People in history or stories told that aren't part of the stories themselves. Their names never come up. Their own stories never told. It is a chance for them to be remembered by whatever brings them back.

The catch? They are always tied to a person living in the modern day for one reason or another. They are bound to them by fate and feel a pull so strong that it makes it hard for them to rip themselves away, even if they wanted to. The PC is one such person.

You, the player, will choose in the beginning of the game which notable person of old you will be the bloodline of; the infamous Anne Bonny or the noble Arthur Pendragon. Depending on what bloodline you pick will determine what nameless legend will appear by your side.

This first look into the story and the world introduces one of those legends. A pirate by the name of Charles Connolly. Her Irish accent is only outshined by her ruthlessness with a blade, and that certainly shows in this upcoming short story that will be available on the Patreon NEXT THURSDAY!

To read the previous short story starring an AU version of Team Leader Hawks and a spicy ending, click below and become an Agent Tier member today! There's a version for both Female and Male Hawks!

PATREON LINK HERE!

[lushrue]

ive really fallen in love with how you write the hockey au men. i need more, maybe of them watching reader skate a complicated choreography for the first time? (◞ ‸ ◟ㆀ)

yeah absolutely! thanks for the request, anon! sorry this has sat for so long, i wanted to do it justice!

there might end up being a scene like this later in the fic (haven’t gotten the whole storyline planned out yet), but for sure reader’s nervous. there’s a lot of complicated jumps in there and some skills that they haven’t quite mastered yet. they’d be practicing at the rink almost every day, probably getting a little hard on themselves when they’re still trying to iron out the kinks in their routine. they wouldn’t let the boys watch them practice, except for gaz. he’s the least intimidating of the bunch to them, more concerned about the artistry than the technical execution. but having the others watch would put too much pressure on them, so the first time they all see it as a group is when reader competes it.

they sit on the bench, waiting with bated breath as you skate onto the ice. you’d told them about it, of course. you had to when they saw how stressed you were and demanded to know what was mucking up that pretty head of yours. the shaking of your hands didn’t go unnoticed by them as you struck your starting pose. simon caught the puff of your exhale, your chest visibly deflating. when the music started, they all tensed up, their eyes locked on you.

price would fully be in captain mode, watching you like a hawk for any missteps. he would see the missteps and grimace, as much as he tried to keep his expression encouraging. he’d have a list of critiques in his head running as you skated. lift the leg a bit more and your turn will be more stable. speed up a little going into that jump and you’ll have the momentum for one more rotation. but he’d never tell you any of it, not unless you asked. it came from a place of love, a desire to see you reach your full potential.

simon would be stoic, just in case you looked at him. he didn’t want to throw off your game, so he tried his hardest to blend into the crowd, act like he wasn’t even there. he still wasn’t quite sure if the four of them watching you added to your nerves (it did, just a little) and he didn’t want to be the reason you didn’t land a jump and injured yourself. but make no mistake, he held his breath every time your skates left the ice.

soap would be the most encouraging of all of them to look at, a smile plastered on his face as he watched you twirl and leap. you’d think the man had never watched figure skating before with the way he whooped and hollered every time you stuck what he perceived to be a difficult skill. he clapped loudly for you, his bonnie little skater. everything you did impressed him, and it gave you an added layer of confidence going into some of the more difficult sections of the routine.

gaz is fully the mom from mean girls. he’s doing the choreography along with you on the bench, but, like, the seated version. he’s also the one videoing the routine on his phone. (price mostly got the head of the person in front of him last time, soap was so loud that you couldn’t hear the music you were skating to, and simon would get so caught up in watching you that he’d forget to follow you with the camera and not just his eyes.) he gives you quiet praise when you successfully execute a difficult skill, hoping that you’ll watch the video back and hear how much he loved your routine.

regardless of their expressions during your skate, they’re the first on their feet when you finish, clapping and cheering loudly. when you find them after, price has a bouquet of flowers for you, soap’s grabbed you a hot chocolate from the concession stand, gaz helps you unlace your skates, and simon is there with his big burly arms to give you all the comfort in the world.

please please PLEASE send me more stuff like this, i eat this shit up

[dangerkittenclaws]

plight of pandora pt2

johnny x simon x reader

word count: 2k!

warnings: hospital setting, barely there violence, brain injury, memory loss, swearing, fluffy ending, eventual poly smut - MDNI +18

a/n: woohoo, chapter 2! sorry for the long wait - i have little time that i get to myself these days, but i promise they'll keep coming!

In the helicopter, the medic was inserting an IV into your arm.

“-az? Where’s Gaz?” you slur a bit.

“He’s right behind you.” Price reassures you.

“I’m here. You’re doing so good, Panda.” You feel Gaz put a hand on your hip. You try to look over to him.

“I…’m sorry ‘bou the mission.”

Price answers for him, “It’s done and over with, don’t worry about that now Sergeant.”

“You heard the Captain.” Gaz smiles at you softly, ending all arguments from you.

Kyle is your buddy. You had met and gotten close to him first when you joined the 141. He had introduced you to everyone on base, accompanied you to trainings and sat next you in the mess hall until you were comfortable and had found your place. You learned quickly how to banter back and forth with him and the rest of the guys. Now you were ruthless and smart with your retorts, the worst of all of them.

You squeeze your eyes closed as the helicopter hits a bit of turbulence. It's the one thing you weren’t exactly fond of, flying. Your head pounds again. You can feel the blood in your brain pulsating from the beat of your heart. If the guys hadn’t reassured you, you would have thought your skull was exposed. Gaz’ hand squeezes over your hip again. You’re sure he was frowning without having to look.

“I’m going to give you some morphine, okay?” the medic says to you. “It might make her a bit sleepy but nothing too strong for now until we touch down.”

You weakly nod in appreciation.

You can feel a small flash of cold run through your arm from the saline flushes he uses. Its almost enough to make you shiver.

You realize there should be two more bodies in the helicopter. Your eyes shoot open to look down at your feet. There they are. Johnny and… that other man.

Johnny is watching you like a hawk, eyes full of shadowed panic. 

He reaches out to you, “20 more minutes, lass, it’ll be over.” He knows you hate flying, more so probably in a prone position.

You try to focus on the other man as if he was going to disappear. He’s looking down at his clasped hands that are resting in between his knees. He looks like someone important. He looks sad. Because of me?

Your eyes start to feel heavy again but it feels different. It's not on your brains accord this time.

You glance at Price, asking silent permission to close them. You still don’t remember the man sitting at your feet. You don’t remember the mission. You barely remember your expertise. You’re scared that if you let yourself close your eyes you won’t remember anything.

You wake up to a barely lit room. It's easy on your head. Two black shadows are sitting next to you.

You instantly panic. They were surely the enemy waiting for you to wake up, waiting to interrogate you.

Your heart can’t help but speed up and it's heard clearly on the monitor next to you. You’re giving yourself away!

Your brain doesn't respond to your berating, only panicking more.

Oh fuck, one of them is moving slowly.

You hold your breath, maybe they’ll think you're still asleep and spare you.

They come closer to touch your wrist.

Your fist reacts before your brain can comprehend it.

“The fuck?” It says. The other figure jerks.

“Huh? Panda, it’s okay. It’s okay. Simmer down lass. It’s just us.” This one gets up fast.

The light blinds you. This is where they torture you, you’re sure. 

You feel a warm hand on your face as well as tears. Again?

You open your eyes, scared to know the truth.

Oh.

It’s Johnny…and the man. He’s holding his chin over his balaclava. Shit, did you really hit the guy?

You wonder if they ever separate. Are they.. together?

Wait. Aren't you together with Johnny? You think hard about it. Maybe?

“Bonnie, you alright?”

“She checked me and you’re asking how she feels?” The man says laughing. At least he isn't angry.

“I.. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” Tears wet your face. The man walks back over to you. You feel guilty when he doesn’t touch you.

“I know, baby. It’s okay. I thought you were having a nightmare.”

“No.. I mean, yes, kind of?” You weren’t dreaming but it wasn’t real.

“Looks like someone is awake. Nice to meet you, Pandora. I’m Doctor Halverson, sounds like you’re a little confused,” A tall gentleman walks in taking careful control of the room.

You nod, surveying him as best as you can.

“Your brain CT scan shows that your head caught your fall pretty good, here, you’ve concussed and ended with a brain injury.” He points to the black and gray image on the computer screen he’s pulled up. 

“Brain injury?” Johnny starts up.

“These things can be tricky with what you remember and what you don’t - but usually you will regain everything within the next few months. I’m going to send in a neurologist to have him go over some things to do and look out for. In the meantime, your wounds seem to be on the right track, your team did an excellent job.” 

Simon's face falters, but quickly resumes his usual schooled expression. He glances at Johnny for reassurance.

“Will I… remember everything? I’ll be better?”

“Normally yes, we’ll put you on some medication to help cognitive function first, see how you do with that before we start anything else.” 

You incline in agreement, trying to wrap the neurons in your brain around a situation that’s floating away.

Soon, you’re being taken carefully back to the condo the three of you share near the base. Johnny, Simon, and you.

It makes you nervous even though you know that the old you was comfortable here, living with two men. You had learned when you were in the hospital that indeed, you all were in a relationship. You weren’t opposed to the idea, they were after all, very attractive men. Simon, you learned, told you that they would take everything slow and make you comfortable as possible, to take it a day at a time.

“How about ordering in for a movie night, lass?” Johnny suggests, setting his and your bag down by the door as he toes his shoes off.

“Sure.” you say. It’s not really a wholehearted response. You’re tired of thinking and you want the decisions made for you.

Like he knows, Simon comes over and gently puts his hands atop your shoulders and starts to move them in a magical way that makes you slump into him slightly. You can hear the smile in his voice, “Sit down, love, you just try to relax for now.”

You nod again and sit down on the couch, sitting in the middle, not knowing that it was your favorite spot and had been molded to your frame over time.

“How about that little Indian place down the road? They have your favorite - butter chicken.” You glance back at him, brows drawn. 

The confusion comes first, you don’t remember that. You don’t remember your first time having that delicious dish with the two of them on your third date. 

Anger now heats up in your belly. Your glance turns into a cold glare, and again before you can properly breathe, you’re standing up, going into what you hope is the bathroom and slamming the door. Was he not in the room when the doctor uttered the words brain and injury? 

Your anger simmers as you look up to yourself in the mirror. The moment your eyes reflect back, they fill with tears. Defeat replaces anger quickly within you. Your mind swirls with flashes of moments you assume were once important and meaningful. 

“Panda, I’m sorry, please, I didn’t realize,” Johnny pleads behind the door. You can hear Simon whispering to him, telling him to give you space. You send a silent thank you to him and shut your eyes.

Breathing out, you turn the shower handle over and start to strip. You at least remember how to do basic tasks. Just don’t ask me to name parts of a gun or how the three of us met.

Your shower is as nearly as hot as it would go, turning you pink as you scrub your skin as if underneath the layers would be some sort of recollection. Your tears had long washed away, but the bitterness you felt lingered on your tongue. You realized you still had a bandage covering your abdomen. It wasn’t big, but the bruising around it was a hideous shade of purple.

The water finally turned frigid and goosebumps appeared on your skin. You took a deep breath and let it out, trying to breathe out the last few days of stress along with it. Opening the shower curtain, you see clean sweatpants, a tanktop and panties folded neatly on the counter. You grab a towel from the hook and dry off well before peeling off the wet bandage and replacing it with a new one from the box that was set behind your clothes. Eagerly, you put on the comfortable items. The sweatpants were a size too big, you noticed, just like you liked them.

You open the door to smell the warm, spicy aroma coming from past the living room. You inhale, trying to savor it, hoping it gets locked away in an active brain cell for later.

“There she is. Make yourself a plate, baby.” Simon looks to you from the couch, the two of them already half-way through with their own. Johnny looks down to his plate and back up to you, giving you a sweet, shy smile. You return it with a small upturn of your lips, granting him forgiveness even though you know it was really your own doing and hope he understands.

You’re grateful for the chance that Simon gives you to do things yourself. You nonchalantly pile your plate high with rice, rich and saucy chicken, and warm naan and make your way to the middle of the couch. 

You arrange yourself to sit cross-legged as Johnny turns on House, MD. You do remember that. It’s your favorite TV show. It’s just engaging enough to watch intently but you’d seen it plenty of times to let it play as background noise if need be. You give him a big genuine smile this time, “I do remember this, though, Johnny… thank you.” 

You feel less like a stranger tonight as you get settled in between the two of them and start to eat. Hours pass into the night with light conversation; some added blankets and a few episodes later, the three of you cuddle into each other like any other night. You lay on Johnny’s chest with your feet over Simon’s lap. The darkness behind your eyes gets heavier by the minute as does the fear in your heart. You start to anxiously rub your feet together until Simon puts his hand over them.

A few minutes pass by as you fidget until you give up your words.

“What if.. What if I don’t remember it all? What if I don’t remember you or my job or-” you whisper, breaths coming quickly now. Johnny instantly sits up a bit bringing you along with him. “Bonnie, it’s not going to come in an instant. I know you want it to. I know you’re scared but you heard the doctor. It’s going to be a minute and we’re going to be here with you every step of the way.” Your breath hitches at his first words, anxiety running through you. His hand rubs your back up and down in an effort to get your breathing calmer.

“Johnny’s right love. It’s not going to hit you like a mack truck one day. It’ll be bits and pieces until the puzzle is back together. I promise, my Panda.” Simon lifts your chin up to look you in the eye, and wipes away tears that had escaped. You fall in love with his lips again as he speaks to you, you remember them from the night he stitched you up. 

You acquiesce and Johnny lays you back down on top of him. Your eyes start to close again and you reach out to grab his forearm and bring it to your chest. You are far too tired to remember, but you had always slept with your hands around his arm, snug against your chest. 

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