#His departure had been very sudden in general | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hothothotch · 1 year ago

Note

hi! can you write a hotch angsty / fluff piece based off the episode of s3 ep 20 where they go to NY and have to work with Kate Joyner and Hotch treats reader like how he did to Morgan and pushes reader aside bc even after reader being there for him after his divorce with Hayley and thinking there was something more but then ends in fluff? :)

hey hey! first i want to say that this ask has saved my life. second, i got carried away again. but i hope you like it, anon s2

(god knows how much i want a part two for this one)

requests are open!

tw: angst, fluff, 5.3k words.

You should have seen it coming.

You’ve been a part of BAU’s team since the departure of Ellie, a quick replacement approved by Agent Hotchner — or Hotch, as the team called him — that took place for the first time after The Fisher King’s case, when Ellie was shot; when she decided working at the BAU was too much to handle, Hotch approved your official transference only a few weeks before Strauss’ approved Prentiss’.

In all honesty, you’d been surprised Hotch didn’t kick you out after that, but grateful nonetheless — you absolutely loved that job.

You had been the first to notice when Hotch’s marriage started to crumble, your own habit of staying late nights at the office giving you a first-row view of the nights he’d stay late and go home only on the early hours of the morning, just to come back fresh and new as if nothing had happened. There wasn’t much you could do to help, even if you wanted to; the fact that Hotch trusted you on the job didn’t necessarily mean that he trusted you enough to let you in on his personal issues, and you didn’t feel like you really wanted to. But, as purple bags started to form under his eyes, a clear evidence that he hadn’t been sleeping, you couldn’t help but start showing small, almost meaningless acts of service that you hoped would make him feel better.

Everything was pretty secretive.

You started to get in the office earlier, so you could leave a cup of fresh coffee on his desk (black with no sugar, as you know he liked), and whenever you went out for dinner, you’d come back bearing something that was small enough so he wouldn’t want to pay for what you brought.

You started daring more only a few weeks into your small endeavor. Instead of only leaving your secret gifts, you started to write small notes in Garcia’s colorful sticky notes (because you had none on your desk, so he wouldn’t know it was you) with encouraging comments, mostly about his job — and, when you were feeling specially bold, about his appearance in general.

You thought nothing of it, and had no idea if he even read them, but the fact that you were doing something to at least try and make things better was enough to warm your heart. Much more when his stern façade would suddenly turn into a lighter one as the day went by, even when you were out on cases and he found a cup of steaming coffee waiting for him, a sticky note attached to it with a unique message handwritten by you.

It wasn’t until the divorce that you felt the urge to reveal your identity.

Hotch had been served the divorce papers in front of the whole team, only a few minutes before they went out for drinks — it goes unsaid that he immediately stepped out of the group, deciding to go home. The team still went out for drinks, but the talks weren’t as fun as they were supposed to be, and the topic in hand was only one: Hotch’s sudden divorce.

“Haley left home a few weeks ago” Derek confessed, playing with his full glass of beer. A few women had come to hit on him, but it seemed like that small and closed group had decided that if one of them was miserable, they all would be miserable that night — and Morgan had been the first to agree to that silent contract, refusing every opportunity he had to get laid that night, “She took Jack and her things and… left”.

“How could she do it?” Penelope had asked, her voice wrapped in a wrath no one had ever seen the blonde bubble of happiness be.

“Hotch is very dedicated to his job, Pen” Emily had replied, her voice as condescending as sad, a clear indicative that while she wished things had been different, that maybe there was a second chance, something they could do to help, she still could understand Haley’s side in this bargain, “We understand that because we do the same, but Haley… she wasn’t one of us”.

And it was true. While any of you were ready to make sacrifices, to jump off cliffs in order to do the best for your job, Haley was just a wife that had to stay closed off at home with her kid, praying that, at the end of the day (or the week) her husband would make it back home.

Now Hotch knew how it felt.

“There’s nothing we can do to help” David had said that night, taking his own glass of whiskey and taking a sip of the sour drink, “Just be there for him”.

David was right. And maybe his words that night had been what prompted you to climb the three-steps of the catwalk’s stair one week later, one hand playing nervously with your necklace as you used the other to knock on Aaron’s door right after Spencer had left to go home, only you and your boss still on the sixth floor.

“Come in”.

Aaron’s voice was imposing, as serious as it had always been; it was curious, you noticed very quickly, how you’ve never seen Hotch falter before — even when he was served the papers, or when he officially announced for the team that he was, indeed, divorced. He had been calm and collected, talking about the topics as if he was making a comment about a case, or about the weather, and the only indication of his unsaid pain was the way his fingers played nervously with the now empty space where you’d been used to see his wedding band.

Just as he was doing when you opened the door, your eyes falling immediately on that spot, as if searching for an indicative that they had decided to try again. The hope painful on your heart.

“I finished the reports from the last case” you said after a few minutes, moving slowly to leave the folders on top of his desk, “And I’ve also filled the late paperwork, I’m sorry it took me a while”.

Hotch looked up at you, his brown eyes scanning your face almost curiously, and you frowned nervously at the prospect of having something wrong with your face, “What is it?”.

“Nothing” Aaron replied quickly, dropping his eyes back to his hands, “I’m sorry”.

You smiled softly at Aaron, moving slowly to take the seat across from him, careful enough to assure him that if he didn’t want you to sit with him, then you’d quickly move out and pretend nothing had happened. When he didn’t, you allowed yourself to place both your hands on top of his desk, your palms up in an inviting manner — you knew Hotch wouldn’t hold your hand, even with the clear offer, but you’d keep offering until he felt like accepting.

“We’re a team, Hotch” you whispered, almost inaudibly, hoping, one more time, not to be overstepping or making him uncomfortable in any capacity, “I know we’re not best buddies…” you teased lightly, adding a ‘yet’ on your mind, “But you still can share things with me. I’m here to help, you know? If you want to talk, ever, I’ll be here, okay?”.

Much for your surprise and happiness, Aaron had wanted to talk, eventually.

The first time was after a child-related case, from where he left with the need to see Jack, but unable to do so because Haley had taken him to his grandparents’ house. At first, when he called you up to his office, you’d thought you’d be reprimanded for a mistake you couldn’t even remember you committed, but you had barely stepped inside the office when Aaron started to speak, his eyes focused on the mess of papers on his desk.

“I want to talk” he said, his voice more painful than you thought it would be, “If you’re still up to it”.

You were. Absolutely.

And just as talking to him, falling in love with Aaron Hotchner was the easiest thing you’ve ever done in your life.

You didn’t notice how it happened, or when you finally realized you were head over hills in love with him, but what you did know was the unspeakable feeling of your heart thundering on your chest whenever he shot a smile on your way, or when he accidentally brushed his hand on your arm when walking past you, or during your nightly conversations, when he’d repeat the words you first told him all those months ago, when you offered your help.

“We’re a team”.

But you should’ve seen it coming.

You should’ve seen it coming when Aaron announced whoever was responsible for that case had called him personally, and not respected the natural order of things in which JJ receives the case and reunites with Aaron to know if it deserves their immediate attention.

You should’ve seen it coming when Derek commented about Kate Joyner being as ass, and Aaron immediately got defensive — and to some extent you believed you had noticed, even if you decided to ignore it, since your body had responded to his defensiveness.

But you didn’t. Mostly because up to that moment, everything was okay.

“You’ll keep throwing theories at me until I tell you to stop?” Hotch asked, and even if his voice was serious and perfectly professional, you could see a hint of a smile on the way his brows weren’t as furrowed as usual, a shy dimple appearing on the corner of his lips.

This, you thought as you observed his clear features, moving from side to side on the chair you’ve been sitting on, your sole duty being waiting for Garcia’s call, or a lead of any form, this is what I love the most about him. His almost smile.

The thought alone both intimidated you and made butterflies dance on your stomach. You loved him.

“I will” you agreed with a resolute nod, your face as serious as possible considering how bad you wanted to laugh, “That’s what I do when we don’t have leads, I try every possible outcome and make you smile every once in a while. Because we’re a team”.

Aaron shook his head, his smile a bit more apparent than before, “A team, indeed”.

“I hope we make a good one”.

You cringed visibly at Kate Joyner’s British accent, not failing to notice how Aaron immediately moved to look at her, a smile creeping up on his lips immediately as he met her eyes — and you felt your heart break even more at the realization that it was the same smile he always gave you.

“They liaised at Scotland Yard”, Emily had teased when you arrived, JJ gasping at the mischievous tone on her friend’s voice. You wondered if any of them noticed how your face fell by the minute, your eyes unable to match any of theirs, heart thumping against your chest because you had noticed how Aaron had looked at Kate.

He wanted her.

In a way he clearly had never — and probably would never — want you.

“Hotchner” you looked up immediately at his serious tone, furrowing your brows as you paid close attention at his words. You saw, with the corner of your eyes, when Derek and Rossi moved closer to the three of you, their faces as serious as Hotch’s, “Does it look like he could be one of our guys?”.

“What’s going on?” Derek asked, his eyes following Hotch’s every move.

“We’ve got eyes on one of them” Aaron replied quickly, and for a second you hoped they’d be somewhere you could get them, that maybe this hell would be over in the next hour, maybe you were remotely close… “He’s on the subway platform at 59th and Lex”.

Your heart stopped beating at that moment, your breath immediately caught on your throat as you turned to face Kate, “We could be there” you muttered, your voice nothing more than an accusing whisper, “If we’d followed Derek’s plan, we could be there”.

“No, we should be there!” Derek retorted, his voice pulling out the anger you’ve managed to keep away from your words, and if your message hadn’t been clearly delivered to Kate, Derek’s had been — it was her fault.

“He’s got a gun” Garcia announced on the other side of the line, her voice wavering slightly at the new information.

“What do we do?” you asked, eyes moving past Kate to meet Hotch’s, “What are we supposed to do?”.

Aaron didn’t have time to reply before Garcia’s voice came through once more, “He shot her”.

God.

“Where the hell are the police?”, Kate’s voice was nervous when she next spoke, walking past you as if you weren’t there, her eyes not daring to meet yours, even if you knew that she didn’t care about the rage you were displaying. She cared about nothing other than Aaron’s impression on her, “This is Kate Joyner with the FBI. We have a murder suspect, subway platform. 59th and Lex”.

“He’s getting away!” Garcia announced, her voice clearly anguished.

Your mind started to work, all the training you ever had in your life — both for the BAU and other Units — coming back to you on that second, drawing you to move closer to the phone, you’re voice commanding, “Garcia, can you get eyes on him above ground?”.

“He’s heading west on 59th Street”.

“If he makes it to the park, we’ve lost him” Kate pointed, clearly worried.

The point was, Kate’s worry meant nothing to you anymore. Not when she was responsible for that; not when her pride got over her job and caused you to lose the only lead you could’ve had.

“And whose fault is this, Joyner?” you asked, your voice as venomous as you could make it sound, both your hands holding tightly at the wooden surface of the desk you’ve been sitting at, “Because from where I see it, is yours”.

The silence between your small group was almost palpable, and you could hear how someone took a harsh breath, as if your words had been like a slap to their face. You didn’t turn to see who had had that reaction, though — you knew the team had a very tunneled vision of you, that the fact you rarely snapped at people made them think you weren’t as fierce as Prentiss, even though they knew you were way more able to stand your ground than Spencer, usually without being overly rude at the source of your dismay.

That wasn’t the case, not that day.

You heard Aaron calling your name, and if it were any other day, maybe you’d have drawn your eyes off Kate to look at him, but you knew if you did this now, you’d backtrack — and God knew you didn’t want to.

“We could’ve had this guy!” you spat, pointing at the phone, “We just had to follow along with Morgan’s plan, which was a good plan, but Ms. I’m-better-than-anyone couldn’t handle hearing that someone was better than her!”.

“That’s not what happened—”.

“Oh, isn’t it?” You cut her off immediately, licking your lips for a second as your eyes kept glued on hers. Not blinking, not faltering. For the first time since you joined the FBI, you allowed the anger to consume you, because it was personal for you.

The way she looked at Hotch was personal for you.

The way they kept their bodies close was personal for you.

The way he had immediately stopped reciprocating you and your feelings whenever she was close, was personal for you.

The way she had the man you loved under her spell was personal for you.

“Even if we were on that platform, odds are he would have moved onto someone isolated” Kate retorted, her voice way calmer than yours.

“Maybe, but it was worthy a fucking shot!” you screamed, slapping your hands against the table, the sound calling the attention of the other Agents around, “Morgan said to put us at express stops. You wouldn’t need any new cop or to take the cops that are working from the streets, you just needed to assign us for this, and you decided not to, just because Morgan said so!”.

“It’s not your place to have this discussion”.

You were ready to spat back, maybe even to move closer to Kate and tell her that if she failed to do her job, then it was time someone else do it. But the voice that called you out wasn’t Kate’s.

You faltered, your voice suddenly getting caught on your throat as you turned to face Aaron, his eyes void of emotion as he looked at with you a grave expression, only one message written on his face: shut up, or you’ll see the consequences.

“My…” you stuttered, “My place?”.

“You need to back off” Aaron moved on, “We’re here to give the profile, that’s what we’ll do”.

“We have seven bodies, Aaron!” you said, but your voice had lost the strength it had when you were discussing with Kate, your anger turning into something way more painful. Painful for you, “Seven bodies. A woman was just killed on a subway platform because of her incompetence and you’re telling me to back off?”.

You hated how your voice broke on the last phrase, clear evidence that you were on the verge of tears. And you hated that he was a good enough profiler to see it, but he chose to ignore, because he was favoring her over you.

“You said it right, we have seven bodies” Aaron agreed, “Which is exactly why we need to stay focused”.

Derek snorted, drawing your attention back to him, “Pretty rich coming from the man who can’t stay focused on anything but her”.

As if it couldn’t hurt you more.

Aaron didn’t flinch, his eyes meeting Derek’s as he finished the almost inexistant space that separated the two of them, his voice low and passive — the tone he always used when talking with a suspect, “Take a walk. Now. You both”.

All you needed was for his eyes to meet yours for you to know you were done. With this case; with Kate Joyner; with Aaron.

“I’m out” you announced, messily grabbing your things and throwing them on your pockets, trying your best not to unravel then and there, where Kate could see how much she had affected you — how much their actions had affected you, “Out of this precinct. Out of this case”.

You walked past Aaron without sparing a glance at him, making a beeline towards the elevator. And for a second you thought about ignoring the way he called you, aware that you wouldn’t be able to look at him without the tears falling down your face, without you pouring your heart out to the man you ultimately loved, but that couldn’t reciprocate your feelings.

But you stopped, anyway. You stopped because a part of you hoped you’d see the man you’ve grown fond of in the past months; because you expected him to apologize, to say that you were right, or just say something… because if he didn’t, you might as well give up on him.

Ask me to stay, you pleaded, just ask me to stay.

“You can’t walk away from this case”.

You snorted at his cold words, and even with your back turned to him, you knew his face was still cold as stone, the Unit Chief, not your friend, “I can. And I will” you finally found it in yourself to turn and face him, the first tears falling down your face, “I’ll tell Strauss I couldn’t handle it, that it hit too close to home. Don’t worry, I’ll take the plane back to D.C tonight, I don’t want the jet and won’t make the Bureau pay for a bedroom for me. It won’t ruin your budget”.

“Why are you acting like that?” he asked, and you allowed yourself to bask on the way his own voice faltered, the way his closed demeanor changed at the sight of your tears, but it only lasted one second before you looked over his shoulders, finding Kate looking straight at you, clearly curious.

Suddenly there was no way you’d walk out without saying everything you needed to say.

“You really don’t know?” you questioned, “Okay, so I’ll tell you, Aaron” you made a pause, fidgeting with your necklace once again, trying to find the courage you needed to let it all out — everything and nothing at the same time, “I’m so in love with you, Aaron. I’ve been from the moment you started opening up to me. And to see you dismissing my opinion, acting like I’m nothing more than just an AIT who has no idea what she’s doing here, it hurts…” your voice was nothing but a mumbled hiss, the tears now staining your shirt, and you were unable to stop them, even when you violently wiped them away with the palm of your hand, “It hurts because I thought maybe… maybe you were feeling the same. Maybe you were opening up to me because you wanted me to be a part of your life, more than a friend, but a real partner… I thought we were a team, but I see I was wrong”.

You allowed yourself to look desperate, broken, out of place for one more second as you watched the way his demeanor changed as he processed every word you’ve said. You noticed with a heavy heart when it stopped, when he finally took in the meaning behind your words, and then…

Then you saw nothing.

And that only made your heart break even more.

“As I said, I was wrong” you repeated, pressing the elevator button violently, “I’m sorry, Agent Hotchner. I hope the case ends well. I’ll hand you my resignation once you’re back home”.

And without a word more, you left.

…

Prentiss called to let you know the case had ended only two days after you left — not that you wanted to know, but you had told Hotch you’d hand your resignation once he was back, so you were grateful she called. She didn’t ask if you were okay, because you clearly weren’t, and you were grateful for that, too (even if Derek and Penelope did call to know if you were feeling okay).

Aaron didn’t call.

He didn’t reach out.

Didn’t send a message or an email.

He was dead silent.

You had learnt from Derek that Kate Joyner had been killed on an explosion meant to hit her and Hotch, and that Morgan had driven him back to Quantico once Aaron was cleared from the hospital. He didn’t need to tell you, but you knew he had talked to Aaron (or either talked while Aaron listened) about what you said before leaving, about your feelings and how you were ready to resign because of the way he treated you; you also knew from his voice that he wanted you to ask what had been Hotch’s answer to their talk, but you didn’t want to know. Your heart was already too damaged to accept another blow.

It had been around the third day since the end of the case when someone knocked on your door. You had asked the team not to come over, not wanting them to see you on the state you were — hair disheveled, eyes puffy and red from crying —, and much less have to answer to questions you weren’t ready to answer; but you had been receiving a visit from your neighbor, Mr. Clark, who had caught you crying alone once and since then had been visiting you on the same hour everyday to make sure you were doing okay.

He was also helping you look for new jobs, even if he was trying to convince you to do something less dangerous than working for the FBI. It wasn’t working.

“Hello, Mr.—” you cut yourself off immediately when your eyes met the newcomer, your lips slightly parted as you took in his image, “Agent Hotchner?”.

You noticed how he flinched at your words, moving slightly back as if you had shot him straight on the heart, and not just called him by his title. Still, Aaron tried to keep himself perfectly composed (as always), one hand hiding something on his back as he fidgets with his fingers with the other.

If you hadn’t spent the past weeks crying over him, you’d have found it adorable.

“What are you doing here?” you asked sharply, your eyes scanning him one more time before you stopped to find his eyes, almost losing yourself on their brown — almost green, depending on the light — immensity.

“I wanted to talk to you” Aaron replied, rolling his eyes at the notice of how obvious his words were, “I wanted to apologize”.

You tilted your head to the side, your body clearly blocking his way inside your apartment — something you’ve never done before, “Okay. Done. You can go now”.

Your words were harsher than they’ve always been, void and certain, mostly because you knew you still loved him, and that if he asked to go inside, you’d allow. You’d buy anything he said in order to feed the fantasy of you two being more than friends, of the possibility of you being what you wanted you to be.

“Can we talk?” Aaron pleaded, taking a step towards you, “Please”.

“Why? So you can ignore everything I said at the precinct and cry over Kate’s death?” you spat out, and maybe you shouldn’t have talked about someone’s death with the coldness you’ve done, but you were honestly tired of Aaron and his bullshit, “I offered myself to help you, Aaron, because I knew you were suffering over your divorce. And if for some miracle Haley and you decided to go back together and try again, I’d swallow my feelings and let my heart break as I watch you and her trying to rebuild what you had, because I know how much you suffered over losing her. How much you miss being Jack’s father everyday…” you raised one finger, pointing directly at Aaron’s heart — the heart you still loved more than everything, “But I’m not stupid. I won’t let you step on my feeling to cry over another woman after I’ve told you how I feel, after I’ve pathetically confessed my love to you. I’m worthy more than that, Aaron! I deserve more than someone who only needs me when they’re emotionally vulnerable. I deserve to be loved, Aaron!”.

Aaron was silent for a moment, his eyes scanning your face as he observed the first tears rolling down. You thought he wouldn’t say anything, that maybe he’d only move away as you told him to, but he didn’t.

He took a step towards you, using his free hand to clear your tears, “I know” Aaron whispered, licking his lips, “And I should’ve thought about it, about your feelings, before putting mine on top of them. And I apologize, even if I know it’s not enough”.

No, it wasn’t. Because merely apologizing wouldn’t erase the memory of him observing as you poured your heart out and dismissing it on behalf of another woman. It wouldn’t erase the comments, and how he belittled you. It wouldn’t erase the pain you’ve felt on the plane back, or how pathetic Erin Strauss made you feel for abandoning the field over personal problems.

“I didn’t notice you were in love with me because I was trying to brush past the fact that I had fallen in love with you, of how inappropriate it would look like for Strauss, of how it could jeopardize your career…” Aaron cleared his throat, looking at the ground, “And how bad I felt over the fact that you were trying to help me with my marital problems, and I was too busy noticing how beautiful your smile is. I didn’t believe it was right for me to fall in love with you, because I didn’t deserve someone as pure as you”.

You remained silent; your arms crossed in front of your body. You knew there was something else he wanted to say, so you allowed him to.

“I imagine you heard someone talking about how… how much Kate looked like Haley”.

You snorted bitterly, and that seemed to attract his attention back to you, “Everyone. Even I thought that when I saw her”.

Aaron nodded slowly, this time his eyes didn’t move from yours, “When I saw her, all I could see was Haley. And I tried to convince myself that the fact I was shaken by that meant that I was still in love with Haley, and that I didn’t have to worry about my feelings for you, that I wouldn’t mess up our friendship because there weren’t feelings between us… but whenever I looked your way, or talked to you, I’d feel my heartbeat faster. And when I looked at Kate, I felt… empty. As if I was staring at an old ghost” he confessed, and you could see on his demeanor how confessing that pained him — either because he was confessing in a way that he wasn’t in love with Haley anymore, or because he felt bad speaking ill of the dead, you weren’t sure, “So I tried to force myself into find that old spark, the way I felt for Haley, something that would prove to me that I wasn’t in love with you, but I failed. And I failed you in the meantime”.

You took a sharp breath, hating yourself for the way you started to play with your necklace, “Where does it put us, Aaron?” you asked painfully, “Because I won’t go through that again”.

Aaron took his hand off his back, showing you the small Tifanny box he had been hiding, your breath getting immediately caught on your throat as you reached for the object hesitantly, “I’m not proposing to you” he clarified at the look on your face, “I couldn’t, not after just getting divorced… and I also can’t be in a relationship with you, now. I want to, but I need to settle things with Jack before I bring someone knew into my life, and I need to prove to you that I mean it when I say I love you”.

“Aaron…” you whispered, opening up the lid to reveal a golden lock pendant, one that you knew all too well — one you had nonchalantly commented with Aaron you wanted, but thought nothing of it, believing he hadn’t paid any mind at your words. He had, “I can’t… I can’t accept it, I—”.

“I’m not trying to buy your forgiveness, I’m not stupid to think you’d accept a gift in exchange of it” he cut you off, “But I want you to keep it as a promise that I’ll try to make it up to you every day, until you can forgive me. And that I’ll wait for you ‘til my last breath, if needed”.

You looked up at Aaron, nodding slowly.

You knew by the look on his face that you’d be the one leading them from that moment on, that if you wanted to just get the necklace and tell him to go, he’d go without missing a heartbeat. But you didn’t want it. Aaron was willing to try, to win your forgiveness and to respect your feelings in a way he hadn’t before.

“We’re a team” you muttered under your breath, opening up a smile.

So maybe you owed it to yourself to try, too.

Aaron gave you a similar smile, nodding, “We’re a team. The best team”.

And as you took a step to the side, inviting Aaron to enter your apartment, you knew you had already forgiven him.

Thank you for the request ✨

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #hotch #hotch x reader #hotch x you #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner oneshot #anon <3

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sjw-publishings · 8 months ago

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Hey everyone,

This is an update to my post I made recently about Dumb and Jocked’s sudden departure. If you haven’t read that, it will be over: here.

Before I begin though, something I discovered is that for some of the reblogged dumb and jocked stories with the ‘read more’, the rest of the story can be viewed in your drafts if you choose to reblog it but do not post, and also through the edit button.

Not necessarily the best way to read stories and also not all stories can be read via that way, but some are possible. So I recommend doing so and saving your favourite writer’s stories in drafts as you will never know what may happen in the future.

—————————————————————

I am grateful to the messages and responses people have given me in light of the situation.

I generally don’t tend to talk to many people on tumblr as my stories can be rather controversial and niche, and I'm very appreciative of the support and information people have given me in light of Dumb and Jocked’s disappearance. Thank you.

As of then, there is a mention that Dumb and Jocked has written a post that he needed time off from Tumblr before he deactivated his account.

However I cannot confirm this as there were no screenshots/reblogs saved/provided, and even if Dumb and Jocked posted that, he could’ve easily reconsidered it and just closed his Tumblr himself.

While it does bring some slight hope, there’s no guarantee he would ever return.

However there’s good news regarding archives for Dumb and jocked’s stories. Which Im grateful for the Tumblr community taking steps to reblog/like/save the posts via different means.

Special shoutout to both @imsrtman and @user211201, who have posted several of Dumb and Jocked’s stories, on Tumblr and their blogspot.

@user211201 has saved multiple of Dumb and Jocked stories, including the Protocol one which had been gone a while back even before Dumb and Jocked left tumblr. I also reblogged his re-post on Branded on my tumblr account, as it’s one of the stories where you cannot access it via editing it in your drafts.

He also continued to post more of his stories and has a list of them on his tumblr post over: Here.

Do check the other pinned post on his tumblr page for the table of contents as for what stories he has already posted too.

@imsrtman has managed to archive most of dumb and jocked stories, including making the effort to put the Tumbex links of Dumb and Jocked’s stories into an excel sheet, and most importantly archiving them before they got removed on Tumbex.

I cannot express how thankful I am to him as I thought I had missed my chance in saving the stories on Tumbex due to my exhaustion. Thanks to him Im able to save both Breeding Grounds stories.

He also a blogspot consisting of various of Dumb and Jocked’s stories and he is planning to add more of Dumb and Jocked’s stories in the future. You can find the link to his blogspot post over: here. (Edit: Imsrtman mentioned in the replies/notes of this post that it is not his blogspot and he has a different blog, @dumb-and-jocked-archive)

Please give both of them many thanks, as well as anyone else who has archived/reblogged/saved stories on behalf of the community. Without people who archive, many of the stories of blogs that are gone would be gone forever.

That’s all for my update. If there’s any crucial information that I may have missed out on, do reply to this post for others to know.

-SjwPublishings

#dumb and jocked update #dumb and jocked archives

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nahoney22 · 1 year ago

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I know requests are closed... but who else could I tell those fantasies I have about Dogma?

He'd capturing my thought and I make it your problem, too. 😏

Just imagine the sweet man one night alone at the barracks in his bunk. And he’s like: 'Okay, maybe I should try for once what the others think is so great about that self-pleasure.'

He even just blushed at the thought about it. But then he locks himself in and undresses, takes some lube he finds in someone else's locker.

Then he lays down and... ohhh did that sheet always felt so good on his skin? At first he just tries carefully with his fingers. It’s not enough. He almosts gasps when he wraps his hand around himself...

That’s when he loses it! You've never seen someone looking so sweet and sexy when he lets go. Absolutely lost in that sensation. So much he's even humping his blanket.

He never slept so well in his entire life like after that evening. Maybe he should try something else too sometimes?!

Taking it Solo***

A Dogma One Shot

word count: 1.2k

After Dogma finds himself alone in the bunks, he takes some time to reflect. Maybe, he deserves some TLC.

warnings: explicit sexual content, explicit language, solo male masturbation, first time masturbation, this is dominantly a Dogma fic by itself but there is a very minor mention of someone/reader.

authors note: bestie you just know I LOVE me some Dogma smut. He deserves some.. alone time. Enjoy! 🤍

The nights seemed longer than ever, burdened by the unrelenting war. Every Clone carried the weight of uncertainty about the coming day, but none felt it as keenly as Dogma.

Known for his unwavering obedience, which had earned him his name from among his brothers, he walked alone to the barracks one evening, a departure from his usual routine.

He couldn't understand why he had lied to General Skywalker about feigning illness, or why the General had accepted it after he stuttered his way through it. Regardless, Skywalker had told him to rest, and rest he would.

That, at least, was his plan.

As the barracks door hissed open, Dogma was greeted by a dimly lit room, rows of bunk beds immaculately kept. He had never felt so alone, and strangely, he welcomed it.

Walking to his bunk, the door sealing shut behind him, he sat on the edge and released a heavy sigh. A nagging guilt gnawed at him for evading today's mission with a lie. But, it was too late to sprint back to the hangar and ask Skywalker if he could join the mission now. Instead, he lay back and fixated on the empty bunk above him.

His thoughts meandered, with no particular focus, as his fingers absently traced the sheet beneath him. Then, a new and unfamiliar thought invaded his mind. His mouth grew dry, a sudden desire ignited within him, leaving him bewildered and slightly flustered. He cast a cautious glance around the room, once again finding solace in its emptiness, yet his heart began to race unevenly. Where was this leading him?

He stilled his hands and steadied his breathing, but the thoughts persisted.

During the times when Tup and Fives dragged him to 79's (literally), he found himself subjected to stories about their intimate life. Though Fives’ stories seemed more far-fetched rather than they were believable. It didn't exactly bother him, but it never piqued his interest. Plus, he was always wary of breaking the rules. Yet, deep down - way deep down - a part of him couldn't help but wonder what it might be like to be with someone, to experience some kind of physical connection in that way.

His grip on the sheets tightened once more, and his eyes closed as he pondered. Have the sheets always felt this soft? Had the constant specter of war effectively numbed him to every emotion he should have been experiencing?

He had enough. Enough of wondering. He gets up and quickly marches towards Fives’ locker and somewhat unsurprisingly, it’s unlocked. He knew he had some in here after bragging about it and grabs a bottle of lube. He pauses, stares at the tube and second guesses but the nagging feeling of wanting to explore something new was too powerful to ignore.

He crawls back into his bunks and checks the coast was clear once more before sliding his pants down, just past his knees. To his surprise, he was already half-hard under his underwear.

Dogma savours the moment. Savouring the idea of being alone with just his thoughts and without immediate responsibilities that puts his life at risk.

Gently, his left hand came up to caress his chest, pondering what it’d be like to feel someone’s hand touch him where his heart lied. Then, he began running his fingertips slowly over the ridges of hard muscle. He’d never been the most muscular of the 501st, but he’d always been slightly toned.

As his fingers stroked from his sternum down towards the waistband of his underwear, a countering shiver ran upwards from the base of Dogma’s spine, making the hairs at the nape of his neck stand up, and a soft sigh to escape his mouth.

Almost apprehensively his fingers stroked under the waistband of his pants and through to his pubic hair until he reached the base of his member.

Wrapping his index finger around to the underside, his thumb pressing on top, Dogma then began to gently stroke just his two fingers from the base to just below the head of his cock. He let out a soft sigh, the warm feeling of his hand against his flesh was…pleasant, relaxing.

He continued the motions for a while, lazy strokes up and down, occasionally swiping his thumb over the slit until he was hard enough.

Biting on the inside of his cheek, Dogma turns to the bottle of lube to feel something different.

As he puts a squirt of lube into the palm of his hand, the warm and slippery substance creates a puddle. With languid motions, he begins to stroke his cock. Slow and tenderly.

“Fuck,” he rasps almost silently. His neck cranes back, the sheets moving underneath him. The slick feeling of his cock between his hand made him almost melt in absolute bliss that he was missing all of this for so long.

His mind riled with different thoughts, imagining how it would feel to have someone sit between his legs and tend to his cock as tenderly as he was, wondering what it would be like for someone to cup his balls and praise him.

He wanted praise. He needed praise.

“S’good,” he mutters to himself, licking his lower lip as his hand dived further down his cock until he managed to caress his balls, rolling them slowly in the palm of his warm and slicked up hand before moving back to focus on stroking.

His eyes open slowly, eyelids heavy as his toes curl in delight at the sensation of getting pleasured, his breathing heavy, needy.

Words strangled in his throat, the pleasure burning through his veins that his eyes rolled into his head and shut again.

His grip on his cock sped up, the lewd sound of him pumping taking over the room, mixing with his short, soft grunts.

He went back to picturing what it’d be like to be beside someone, to have someone to hold and someone to fuck. Hard. Soft. But as he did, his mind went back to 79’s and that one person who gave him a second glance. Just that once. Those eyes, that laugh, that smile that now burned into his brain. How would they feel, nude and pressed against him as he rocked his hips against them? Would their skin feel as soft as the sheets that soon started to stick to his body?

“I wish you were here,”

He could feel his orgasm start to slowly build within him, his previously measured strokes becoming unsteady and harsh as Dogma moans into the chilly air of the barracks.

Fingers gripped tightly just below the head of his cock, he roughly worked the top of his length. Moaning loudly, imagining vividly, he hauled himself up so he was kneeling on the bunk.

His head dropped forward to his chest, and beads of sweat rolled down his neck as his climax built, throbbing against.

One, “oh f-fuck, yes!”

Two, “please… please…”

Three more firm strokes of his length and he was there, his cum falling over his messy bed sheets.

He stutters, body twitching at his climax before he collapses down onto his bunk with a thud. He laid there for a few minutes, panting and thinking about what he did. He knows he should get up and clean himself but for now, just for one minute, he felt calm. He felt content.

Masterlist

tags: @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog g @chrissywakingup @kixs-husband @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @raevulsix @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad

#dogma #arc trooper dogma #clone wars #clone wars smut #clone trooper smut #star wars #nahoney22 writes #dogma x reader

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fancyfade · 18 days ago

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in regards to your post about damian retiring being boring I agree. I think most fans in favour of that mostly like it because they hc he’ll move into the medical field. Either as a surgeon or vet, which I like as a concept and think it’s cool. However I don’t like the idea of him retiring it’s boring and lame I can’t see that being written interestingly enough that would keep him in content and would most likely be a way to have him written off or erased from Batman/fam comics etc.

anyway I don’t know if you’ve discussed it before but what kind of superhero identity do you see damian creating or a mantle he inherits after moving on from Robin? and what would you want his civilian identity to be like? I definitely see the appeal of damian pursuing the something in the medical field or finishing college just like his mom

Like he’s an extremely skilled surgeon already??? And doesn’t he already have a phd or something. So like having his civilian identity as a Wayne studying in college and maybe becoming a doctor or vet is cool. Or maybe he’d not be interested when he already has those skills and knowledge. Though I have seen some interesting discussions from some fans who don’t see the concept of him being a vet or surgeon cause they don’t think he’d like to see animals in pain ? Or seeing more blood and life loss as a civilian when he also sees that in the other parts of his life.

If they ever brought back him on stage acting or anything theatre related that would be fun. Sorry for the long ask I’m mostly just rambling

Yeah, realistically if Batfam characters retire most of hte time they just aren't going to show up. Which is a shame, b/c I Think there are some characters who could have/should have retired (namely JPV/Azrael, who is vocal about you know, not wanting to be Azrael all throughout no man's land and at various points in his solo) and dcould've worked really well as supporting characters (him being a supporting character to Cass would've been cool).

I am glad that main canon is recognizing Damian's medical skills again, they did give him surgery skills and just then forget to mention it again XD And yeah, as you say his family is full of physicians and surgeons, Thomas Wayne, Ra's al Ghul, Talia went to medical school, etc.... It'd be nice to see Talia being like "🥺 my baby's gonna be a dr..."

For Damian as an adult, I did like this (link) idea for a Damian identity. Tallant, after his elseworld self, kind of Talia adjacent.

Civilian identity wise as an adult I am partial to him kind of doing whatever he feels like, if he does not have a set job but just does art whenever, takes care of business stuff as necessary (remember he was doing that at like 10 years old XD) it leaves a lot of freedom for him continuing moving around the world like in Robin: Son of Batman, and opening up lots of story possibilities, but barring that I think a doctor or a surgeon would work.

I do not think the 'he can't be a surgeon because he doesn't like seeing people (or animals, if vet) in pain' thing holds up very well when like... yes, Damian does have a strong sense of empathy and want to help people but that never really stops him from acting? Like he throws up when he sees a bunch of kids dead bodies in streets of gotham, but he still goes undercover to get himself kidnapped and investigate and doesn't freak out when Colin (a kid he was trying to be protective of before he figured out he had super powers) fights Zsasz tho I guess he's bleeding some during this. And we see plenty of analysis of dead bodies on his part that don't upset him, especially if they're not kids he can be quite casual (to the point it offends Gordon). But generally while he's empathetic I'm not sure I see how that'd preclude him from being a surgeon or vet. If anything makes it unrealistic, it would be the long hours necessary for working as a surgeon and various superheroic duties necessitating a sudden departure - you can't really do that in the middle of surgery XD

The upside of surgeon/doctor civilian idea has over my initial proposal (rich world wandering dude who does art and business occasionally) is that it'd introduce a consistent supporting cast, presumably in coworkers. We may hopefully see this in PKJ's Batman and Robin (Just with Damian being a teenage volunteer obviously, not a surgeon, b/c regardless of how talented someone is I don't think a hospital would want the liability of having a teenager with no medical license perform surgery XD)

#damian wayne #dc comics #anon #ask #robin #batman and robin 2023

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medlilove · 7 months ago

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So, I have been playing with an au/oc with ToS and hired a Botanist character. But somehow I have extebnded a few bullet points that explain why Bones was last to meet him on the ship to like, a massive, rather mundane fic that has given me the chance to explore how the different characters interact with each other. All before the Botanist even shows up, in fact, I keepo adding things to put it off.

The scene was initial made to be a rather uneventful first interaction. But it just got longer and longer

and longer

The Botanist Part One 🌱🌱🌱

Bones' thoughts on The Botany Department weren't great. They didn't really do anything. Yes, it could be argued that his general disconnect from the department stemmed from his distaste for Dr. Daniel Yvonne, who was a very uninspired man. Here he was, exploring a strange new world every month or so, full of life completely unknown to science, and what did he do? The bare minimum needed to submit the paperwork. McCoy felt that the man would be just as inspired working in the basement of an Earthside insurance office, opening mail.

McCoy couldn't understand why someone would take on such an incredible role as that on the USS Enterprise, and do so little with it. He often complained loudly to Kirk in confidence that the department's resources were being wasted and the man should be kicked out.

There was so much out there, yet Yvonne was just ticking boxes. Sending his poor team out to the planets to collect minimal samples while he remained in his lab. The situation was exacerbated by the fact that the lab and medical spaces shared the same deck on the Enterprise, and often crossed paths.

Although McCoy and Chapel snarked and sniped at each other on a regular basis, often alarming new patients, they had the same care and ambitions and had more in common than not, especially regarding Dr. Yvonne. Nurse Christine Chapel was another crew member who McCoy could mutter openly over his dislike of how Botany was run. One of the few things they agreed on in fact. Chapel hated how cold and unsocial he was to his team, whom she had grown to know quite well.

It, therefore, came as quite a surprise to everyone when Dr. Yvonne had a complete mental breakdown one morning after a particularly dangerous planetary expedition, in which one of his team, Sacha, was nearly eaten by a giant carnivorous cactus. He broke all the glass in his lab, spreading all sorts of spores and seeds everywhere, and tried to jump out a (very sealed) window. Chapell got to him first and sedated him, a little too enthusiastically, not that Bones would have done it any differently. McCoy had a suspicion that it wasn’t so much Sacha’s wellbeing he was worried about, but the sudden disruption of standard protocol and additional paperwork.

And thus, Dr. Daniel Yvonne was sent Earthside on the next available shuttle, looking rather glassy eyed and sweaty. That, of course, left the Enterprise needing a new Head of Botany, and with Sacha recovering from the cactus attack, and the only other member of the Botany Department being Edwin, who was only 22, they asked the Federation to assign a new member.

There was a planet a few days away that had a research station on it. Dr. Alfred Nahdi accepted a temporary replacement role on the Enterprise, and would be with them for around six months.

He was brought aboard three weeks after Dr. Yvonne's departure. The federation had assigned him with the go ahead from the Captain. Therefore no one really knew much about him.

McCoy wasn’t available to be at the customary meeting party in the transporter room when Dr Nahdi beamed on board. Turns out, just an hour before the new botanist was set to beam on board, one of Scotty’s engineers, Phoebe Carrilin, had fallen three flights while in the engine room, broken her neck and landed on her head. While not technically life threatening in that day and age, Dr. McCoy needed to take particular care putting her back together, due to the intricacies of the spine and the severe swelling that she had suffered.

Kirk had explained McCoys absence when showing Nahdi around and to his labs. Some medical emergency that Alfred would rather not know the details of, he was a little more squeamish than he’d care to admit. As they exited the elevator and walked down the wide corridors of the primary science level of the enterprise, Nahdi noticed that the Medical Space was completely sealed off. Made sense, if some major surgery was taking place. The automatic doors didn't respond to them passing by. There was a strip of red light along the borders of it, that Nahdi recognised as an indication to only disturb for serious medical emergencies. He wondered what kind of man was behind that door.

He had arrived late in the afternoon, so the senior management meeting, to introduce him to who and what everyone did, would be, thankfully, scheduled for the next day.

After settling into his quarters, Nahdi wandered back to his lab to spend a bit more time poking around and seeing what, if anything Dr Yvonne had left. The science floors appeared to be dead quiet this time of night. Almost everyone was off duty, and unlike engineering, rarely needed staff on rota 24hrs. He was enjoying the quiet hum of his new home. He walked up and down the isles of planters, vessels and canisters. The lights were kept low, and a fine mist filled the space. Making it humid, yet very comforting. The Enterprise had amazing resources, but he noticed that the lab was not fully utilised. There was so much potential. He couldn’t wait to get started.

He lingered for a while just inside the door, analysing the large screens displaying complex calendars and rotas, learning the names of his team. Sacha, Edwin, and Evangeline….just three? Doing some quick maths on the rota, they must be on at least 50 hours a week each, surely that’s not right? He felt a pang that was simultaneously sympathy and pride.

He was snapped out of his thoughts at the distinct sound of a door opening a little distance away. He heard a man and women talking softly in the corridor. He couldn’t hear exactly what was said, but the tone was familiar, friendly, yet serious in tone. The woman’s voice seemed reassuring and the man’s tired and almost annoyed. He said something then, while giving out a small laugh of exasperation which made the women give out one small laugh then say something indicating instruction. Nahdi didn’t move, suddenly feeling very self conscious about potentially intruding on something personal. Mortified at the idea of them suddenly spotting this rather tall and broad man they had never seen before standing randomly in a door that was half glass, therefore fairly visible. That would make quite an awkward first impression.

He couldn’t help himself, Nahdi moved his head very slightly and glanced down the corridor. Just in time to see a blond Nurse turn back into the medical lab, and just caught a figure of a man in the science blue, closing the elevator door at the end of the corridor. His face was hidden by his palm rubbing his eyes as his other hand absentmindedly pushed the elevator button a few times. All Alfred could determine was that he seemed a little skinny, shorter than he (though most people are) and potentially around his age. That was the CMO, he’d bet money on it.

Nahdi thought that the man might have squinted up and seen him in the last blink of the moment, but he couldn’t be sure.

The surgery had lasted five hours and Carrilin would be on her feet the next afternoon.

It was around 20:00 when he was finally done. McCoy swapped out with Chapel and went straight to bed without eating, having just enough energy to pull off his uniform. His dreams swam with intricate, fragile puzzles and a strange tall bearded figure watching him from a glass fronted door.

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carionto · 1 year ago

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A Proper Welcoming Party - P2

Part 1

As Big Thrasher's fleet emerges from hyperspace, they are all pleasantly surprised that: a) they all arrived roughly at the same time this time around; b) none of them are crashing into a planet or space station; c) they're not getting shot at immediately.

Glorious success!

Now the raid begins.

Quickly scanning the perimeter, Big Thrasher learns the orbital mining station around Mercury is, for starters, way bigger than they thought based on the intel they had, which was only a few months old. And there were three of them now. Okay, Humans build quite fast. Noted.

There was a number of heavily armed and armored large ships docked at each station, and signs of recent hyperjumps of similar magnitude, but no cargo ships. Weird. Are the Humans somehow transporting the processed materials using individually powered containers? Doesn't seem very efficient.

No matter. Big Thrasher has a fleet of a hundred ships, they can just pillage the stations themselves and load up with precious cargo. In fact, none of the Human ships or structures have shield! What fools, such easy pickings! As he was about to broadcast his demands and threats, he noticed the comms have been pinging for a while now. Oh, they want to surrender already? Good. This is going so much better than planned!

"Unidentified vessels, this is the Heart of Liquid Stone. Your sudden appearance in our space is disrupting scheduled flights. Move out of the indicated transport departure area and identify yourselves, please."

Something's off, but Big Thrasher can't quite put his finger on it. Oh well, they're listening, and they clearly don't know who they're dealing with. So, he shall speak with the full authority bestowed upon him by the raw confidence of someone who doesn't know he's about to learn a very valuable lesson!

A moment of silence after his proclamation. Indications of encrypted communication between the stations and the docked ships, and several scan pings going over his entire fleet. Then, a slightly bemused Human calls back:

"Uhh, you sure about that? From what we can see, you guys don't got enough, well, frankly everything, to do much of anything to Bertha's Bosom over there, let alone this station."

At this, one of the large unshielded military ships undocked from the station with uncanny speed and grace for a vessel it's size. If Big Thrasher was paying attention, he would have noticed that a single turning engine was more powerful than all the main engines on his flagship combined. But he didn't, because he was paying attention to the several massive cannons training their sights on his fleet.

Sure, they're big, and kinda scary, but, but, BUT - his ships have shields and theirs don't! Doesn't matter how big a gun you have, any weapons technology before the invention of shields becomes obsolete. This has proven to be true in every civilization. Energy weapons, now that's the real stuff. Drain the shields, then easily melt through the hull, everyone knows this.

So... why is it that they have all been firing at one spot on the hull of Bertha's Bosom for nearly a full minute now (without retaliation or evasive maneuvers, but they're too busy to notice such details), and it's not even red hot yet? You would need an astronomical amount of reinforced multi-layered plating with the highest grade heat dispensing alloys interwoven throughout the entire vessel to absorb a concentrated laser barrage like that. The sheer mass of such a ludicrous thing would then require stupendously powerful engines. AND to power THOSE would demand literally impossible levels of energy generation. Nothing is making any sense right now.

Then, there was a thud. Even though it's the vacuum of space, Big Thrasher felt it. He did not understand what it was.

He equally did not understand what the shiny particles were where one of his ships used to be. Or why they were streaking in a trajectory directly away from one of Bertha's.. cannons....

Oh.

Uhhh...

huh

Big Thrasher is having a thought (a truly rare occurrence, so let's give him some time)

...

RUN AWAY! RUN AWAY!!!

#humans are space orcs #humanity fuck yeah #humans are deathworlders #humans are space australians #humans are space oddities #story #scifi #carionto

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light-lanterne · 2 years ago

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This story follows the general concept of @foodiewithdahoodie's cannibal Will / serial killer Mike AU, the likes of which is vaguely inspired by 'Bones and All' and other cannibal and vampire media. It’s important to note that this story is rated Mature and gets quite descriptive and dark, so please be mindful when reading. For context, this happens after S2, with Will finally free of the Mind Flayer and things returning to normal… except Will didn't return quite "right", and now has an insatiable hunger he can't quench with normal food. CW: cannibalism, murder and violence. - - - - - - - - - - - - - ☽ - - - - - - - - - - - - - 𐕣 read on ao3 (tba) || support me on ko-fi! 𐕣 @foodiewithdahoodie's posts: i - ii - iii - iv - tag 𐕣 @fluffyfangirl's incredible art: ♡ - - - - - - - - - - - - - ☽ - - - - - - - - - - - - -

This wasn’t supposed to happen, was the first coherent thought Will had since he abruptly left class earlier, thoughts fuzzy and limbs heavy after wandering the empty hallways of Hawkins Middle School in a daze for what felt like hours. He vaguely remembered someone calling his name, followed by some snickers and the louder voice of Mrs. Grabowski trying to catch his attention as he exited the classroom, not a word spoken to justify his sudden departure.

Of course, it was weird, and one would think that considering the circumstances someone would’ve said something or even chased after him. But no, no one followed him and why would they? No one in that classroom was his friend. After all, he was Will Byers, the quiet kid that had never really fit in and, more recently, the boy that had gone missing and had mysteriously come back to life. The weirdo. The freak. Zombie Boy. An abomination, someone who’d been acting strange for a while and was finally back to school for the first time in a week. Unwelcomed. Unwanted. Unknown.

Different.

Will was different and everyone had been able to tell for a long time, except his oddity now extended far beyond what his classmates, teachers, friends and family could ever imagine and he himself found it hard to understand what was happening to him.

All he knew was that ever since he was freed from the Mind Flayer’s possession, things had been strange.

He first became aware of it when he woke up in the hospital, Chief Hopper somehow managing to convince his mom to take him there to spend the rest of the week recovering. And it made sense, to a degree, for his possession hadn’t been too different from a terrible flu and he really needed all the help he could get to recover.

But the second he woke up he could tell something was wrong. He could tell something was not quite right the second he noticed his own eyes lingering as a nurse walked by the door with blood bags in hand, stomach rumbling with a vengeance at the sight. Naturally, this then prompted the nurses to fetch him something to eat, and Will was immediately invaded with memories of one of his last “meals”, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he remembered the snacks he’d eaten all those days ago, in Mike’s basement during Halloween night. Back when everything was normal and he was still just himself, the son of Joyce Byers and brother of Jonathan; friend of Dustin Henderson, Lucas Sinclair, the new girl Max Mayfield, and Mike Wheeler. He could almost savour the cheesy Doritos and sweet Kit-Kats; the fizzy Fanta and the delicious Reese’s snacks Mike had collected and slipped into his candy bag all throughout the night.

A stark contrast to what he’d been given to eat then, by the nurses.

And hospital food was never supposed to taste good, he knew this, but it was at the very least supposed to be filling and it’d been weird to find out just how empty he still felt even after what was objectively a rather full meal. Not even three jellies had been enough to quench his hunger and the nurses believed it to be a side effect of his week-long illness, their reassuring words directed at his mom moreso than him because it was clear she was beyond concerned.

But Will had known better. Even if he hadn’t had a name for it then, and even if he still couldn’t grasp the reality of the situation, he knew that wasn’t the reason behind his insatiable hunger.

It wasn’t hard to figure it out, to be completely fair. The dreams… the nightmares he’d been having were enough to clue him into the severity of his condition, visions of death and murder a clear indicator that something was terribly wrong with him. Pictures of himself hunched over, feasting on the rotten corpse of the sweet Barbara Holland something that would haunt even the strongest of men. He looked… Animalistic. Desperate. Hungry.

(He’d been hungry as he bit into Barbara’s side, once the Demogorgon was gone and his starving twelve-year-old self was able to eat something for the first time in days.)

It was… wrong. He was wrong. An error. A mistake, just like his dad had always said he was, except his depravity was now far darker than anything anyone could’ve foretold. Flawed. Messed up. Fucked up. So very fucked up.

And at first, it had repulsed him. Humans were not supposed to dream about killing and eating other people, and the fact that Will was having these confusing fantasies was enough to scare him into not wanting to eat any meat for the rest of his time in the hospital, his refusal a constant point of contention between himself, his mom and the nurses. ‘You need to eat if you want to go home,’ they’d tell him, and he’d shake his head with vehemence and bury himself under the covers until they agreed to let him have more soup instead. He’d find excuses and lies to tell Jonathan whenever their mother sent him in to try to convince Will of giving up his fight.

But he couldn’t lie to himself for much longer, not when the hunger was so strong, and not when the nightmares became a part of his daily life. When the yearning for blood became the only thing he was able to think about the whole day, eyes trailing over the translucent skin of those around him in the search for blue veins, fingers twitching to wrap themselves around frail necks and press until life vacated its vessel… Not when his mouth salivated at the idea of ripping skin open and snapping people’s bones to expose what laid within, and certainly not when his heart picked up speed whenever the desire to sink teeth into supple flesh and bite and tear and feed popped back up in the forefront of his mind.

Will was not a liar by nature, and each passing day he found it harder and harder to deny that whoever his mom, Jonathan and Nancy had rescued was not the Will they’d known. They’d gone into the cabin searching to get rid of the parasitic entity that had invaded him, and had left with something that was not entirely human. Not fully. Not anymore.

It was sad. He should be sad. Life had thrown him nothing but punches ever since he had memory, and this felt like the biggest middle finger the universe could have possibly ever given him. It wasn’t enough to send him into another dimension full of nothing but fear and agony, a monster constantly hunting for him for some reason and his home —the place he was supposed to feel safe at— suddenly a maze of horror and desperation. It wasn’t enough to let him listen to his loved ones search for him relentlessly, their pain everything he could hear as he hid from the horrors, their voices a constant reminder of the love and life he was sure he’d lose for there was no way they could reach him in that purgatory. It wasn’t enough to bring his misery back a year later, his body becoming host to the very creature that was behind everything that had happened to him since that horrible night in November when he was only twelve, his mind slowly slipping away into oblivion as everyone he loved succumbed to his treason.

No, that hadn’t been enough. Now he was cursed and tainted and was infested with something from Hell itself and he had no way of escaping it. This terrible emptiness that now riddled his twisted soul was a constant reminder of everything bad that had ever happened to him, and he should be angry at the way fate kept mocking and taunting him at every waking moment.

He should be annoyed. Pissed. Enraged.

And he was, at least for a bit. Bitter, that was. But he stopped caring as soon as he realised something. Found something. And it wasn’t anything he thought he’d ever have, but the fact that he did was enough to ease his pain and loneliness and transform them into something much better. Much purer.

Mike’s acceptance.

Granted, he hadn’t necessarily been searching for it and he was still in absolute disbelief that Mike had even found out about it in the first place, but it was a fact that Mike was okay with… whatever this was, and Will wasn’t going to pretend that it wasn’t the best feeling in the world to know that Mike still thought of Will as a friend, despite what he knew. That Mike still saw him as someone worthy of his affection and care, despite Will’s new… nature.

It’d happened a few days earlier, on Will’s first day out of the hospital and back home. The rest of the Party wasn’t there, for everyone thought it’d be better to let him readapt slowly, but Mike had always been stubborn and Will’s mom had found it really hard to send him away the moment he showed up in their front door with an armful of snacks and the entirety of the Star Wars film saga shoved into his backpack, right under Mike’s sleeping bag and pajamas. Will’s mom had always had a soft spot for Mike, after all, and it wasn’t like Mike hadn’t been of huge help during the entire Mind Flayer ordeal, so he’d definitely earned his way into spending the night over.

For the first few hours, things were normal, their favourite movie playing as they whispered useless gossip to one another in between chips like they’d always done. Then everything got awkward for a few minutes, when Luke lost his hand on screen and Mike interpreted Will’s sudden tension as fear, as opposed to overbearing hunger and desire; excusing himself to the bathroom in order to try and regain some semblance of composure, Will then spent a good ten minutes staring into his reflection, eyes dark and hands jittery as he imagined himself consuming the flesh off of someone, anyone’s bony hand. After what felt like forever, he was able to return to the living room and it wasn’t easy to convince Mike that everything was okay, but eventually Will managed and they finished the rest of their marathon in peace.

And that’s when things changed. When Will couldn’t control his urges any further.

In retrospect, there was no way he could've held back, no matter how hard he tried. It hadn’t been a conscious decision, for him to grab Mike’s finger after the lovable idiot cut himself with the edge of their Cocoa Puffs box, Mike’s skin always so soft and delicate that the thin cardboard was enough to cause him such an injury. It hadn’t been a conscious decision, for him to bring the slender finger close to his lips, the motion not too different from what they both did to each other as kids whenever they got hurt, except this time Will wasn’t planning on giving the injury a little peck. It hadn’t been a conscious decision, for him to open his mouth and slowly, tenderly, lap at the small cut with his tongue not unlike a cat cleaning itself, the fact that he’d just grabbed Mike’s hand to taste his blood only registering in his mind well over a minute after he was done savouring the delicious, forbidden crimson nectar that he’d been craving all week.

All he knew was that one moment he was looking at Mike as he got a small paper cut, and the next moment he was blurting out apologies and excuses for what he’d just done, his ranting interrupted only by the way Mike wrapped his secure, grounding arms around Will’s torso, pulling him impossibly close and whispering sweet nothings into his ear, not stopping until he was convinced that Will had calmed down.

He told Mike everything after that. The nightmares, his odd yearnings, his fears. Exposed at last, all laid out for Mike to judge and repudiate him for and to a degree, he wished Mike would’ve told him it was wrong. That he was a monster, a freak, and that they needed to find a way to get Will’s destructive thoughts to end before he ended up hurting someone. That they needed to go to his mom’s room and get her to gather the troops, get a hold of doctor Owens so he could figure things out, something.

Everything would’ve been better if Mike had rejected him. It was the moral thing to do, and Will considered himself a good enough person to recognise this.

If Mike had told him this was wrong, Will would’ve clung to everything he’d ever learned about good and evil, would’ve tried harder to get better, would’ve tried to be satiated with normal food. He would’ve done everything in his power to reject that with which he’d been left behind by the Upside Down, would’ve listened attentively to anything the shady government doctors told him to do… Hell, he would have even prayed every night until he could confidently say that he was over that weird phase of his life and everything was behind him, the fact that his soul had been corrupted for way longer than his strange appetite nothing in comparison to the things he wished he could do to Mike now that he’d tasted his sweet alluring blood.

Mike should’ve told him off. If he had, this wouldn’t be happening.

But he hadn’t and now Will didn’t care that it was wrong. He didn’t care that his desires made him a monster, and he didn’t care that his instincts had taken a hold of him and he’d let go of control the second Troy cornered him in the empty hallway.

Why would he care, anyway? Mike had told him it was okay, that he should do whatever felt right at any moment because it was his body requesting what it needed to recover. The world had already failed them all one too many times, anyway, so it wasn’t wrong for him to take something back, right? At least that’s what Mike had reasoned with him, once he was sure Will finally accepted that he didn’t mind just how weird things had gotten, his eyes warm as he reassured Will into accepting his new needs. His new self. Crooked and perverted. Savage and insatiable. Ready to devour anyone that crossed his path, an emerging predator in a world so full of prey no one would miss a few people.

And sure, part of Will still wished Mike had dissuaded his disturbing thoughts because now it was impossible to muffle them once they took a hold of his soul. Now it was impossible to keep the freak on a leash.

Hence his current conundrum.

But it didn’t matter. What was done, was done and for what it was worth, Will had enjoyed it. Granted, he couldn’t remember all the details of what’d happened, but he knew enough to put the missing pieces together: he’d been aimlessly wandering the halls in a trance, wound up in the closed-for-renovation section of the school, and Troy had tried to mess with him. So, Will had naturally lunged at him and tore his throat open with teeth and nails, blood sputtering out from the carotid and straight into Will’s greedy mouth as they both fell to the floor and Will found enough grip to shred a piece of some muscle apart, nearly choking at the mouthful for he was seemingly too delirious to chew slowly or wait before taking another bite. And then another. And another.

Because that’s what he did now, apparently. It’s what his inner beast demanded and Mike had told him to listen to it, so Will was just doing what he was told and frankly, he should’ve never questioned Mike’s judgement. Mike had always been smart, after all, so Will couldn’t understand why he was so surprised at the fact that following his advice could end up in something that felt so… fulfilling. Ecstatic. It was like watching his favourite film or eating Reese’s Pieces for the first time again, opening Christmas presents or winning a D&D campaign. It felt great, the thrill of each bite bringing him to a new level of euphoria he’d never experienced and he wasn’t sure how he’d ever lived without this. Wasn’t sure how he’d ever go back to an existence without this bliss. And cognitively he knew that this was the Mind Flayer’s fault, and that a month ago he never would’ve wanted or needed to do this.

But now he did, and he couldn’t find it in himself to feel guilty about how good it felt, the pit in his stomach gone for the first time in a week, and his hunger quelled at last. His new self was satisfied, the amalgamation of Will Byers and the being from the Upside Down finally synchronised and united in harmony, and a dopey smile adorning his features as he showered in the rapture of his new awakening.

Even in his floaty state, however, he could tell when someone approached. It was as though he had reached enlightenment, now that his innards were filled to the brim with warm blood and flesh, and he was now suddenly hyperaware of every little movement in his inner and outer world. And of course, he was satisfied with the meal he’d just had —or else he would’ve kept eating until nothing was left behind—, but the idea of eating some more didn’t sound too displeasing. In fact, now that the thought had crossed his mind he found himself… eager. Defiant. It was irrational and dangerous, but he really wished that whoever was coming stumbled across him and what he’d done, if only to get the excuse to hurt and kill and feast again.

He wanted it. Craved it. He’d always been curious and now he really wanted to know if all humans tasted the same or if there were subtle differences and he knew it wasn’t him thinking about these things, it was the beast that now lived within him. But they were now one and the same and Will was ready to let that side of himself take control and paint the walls in beautiful patterns of red as he ripped into someone’s skin once more; ready to let himself fill his stomach with someone else until there was no more room and he felt sick.

Alas, he didn’t get the chance to kill again. Not because he didn’t want to, for he couldn’t ignore that a part of him was really desperate to enact such violence upon his unexpected visitor, but because he couldn’t. Not to him, not after everything they’d been through together and after the promises they’d made.

He owed it to Mike to try to at least be a little normal around him and, perhaps more importantly, maybe not kill him.

“Will?” Mike asked, eyes wide open as he stepped through a plastic sheet someone had put in place to protect the rest of the hallway from dust and now blood. His hair was wild, ruffled by wind as if he’d been running, and it didn’t take a genius to understand that Mike had probably been searching for him, rumours quick to spread across school even if it’d only been about fifteen minutes since he left and everyone was supposed to still be in class.

Mike looked… pretty. With his pink cheeks and parted red lips, sparkly eyes and tender round cheeks. Poking from under his soft sweater, Mike’s slim neck seemed to beckon to Will, the bare skin glistening with a thin layer of sweat in a way that was really hard to ignore, the angle at which Mike had tilted his head exposing the delicious dips and cliffs of muscle and vessels that Will was buzzing with excitement to take into his mouth and destroy. It was hard to ignore it, the urge, but just like the beast had taken control of him, Will knew he could control it back if need be.

So he did. He stood up slowly and didn’t lunge at Mike as he spoke, words slurred like every time he ate a lot and needed a nap.

“I was hungry,” was all he could say, sheepish as the realisation that he’d just succumbed to his twisted desires dawned on him for the first time. The horrors he’d shared with Mike… The nightmares he’d been trying to avoid… It all felt like a self-fulfilling prophecy of sorts, one he didn’t even try to fight back and couldn’t be bothered to feel bad about.

All he could feel was shame and fear. Shame that someone he cared so much for saw him like that, covered in Troy Walsh’s blood with a potentially mad look in his eyes, and fear that Mike’s promises had been empty and, now that he saw the extent of Will’s insanity, he left him alone.

Once again, however, Will was reminded of the fact that he should never doubt Mike. “I can see that,” his friend scoffed once he was free of his shock, his eyes scanning the scene with apparent disinterest right before setting on Will, warmth inundating them as if he’d just seen a puppy or a beautiful sunrise and Will could almost cry at the realisation that yes, Mike would honour his promise to be by Will’s side as they explored this new side of his and no, he wouldn’t leave him alone.

Despite knowing each other for eight years, Mike Wheeler continued to impress him every single day.

“Sorry; I know it’s a mess,” Will shot back, tentative smile on his lips as he, unreasonably, kept expecting things to go South. After all, he was Will Byers and his luck was never the best. No one should blame him for expecting the worst.

This time, however, his concern was completely unnecessary. “Don’t worry, we can fix it,” Mike simply said, and that was all it took for Will’s smile to become sincere. Smiling back as if they’d just shared a private joke, Mike approached and poked his arm, gentle eyes searching for his as he asked his next question. “Do you feel any better?” He said, and Will could only nod because he was still not sure of how much Mike would want to hear about his little escapade.

“I think it’s what I was missing.”

Mike beamed at his words, clearly happy to see Will recovering his health at long last even if the price was an unconventional one and it took all of Will’s willpower not to jump him and bite into the folds of his smile. “Good,” Mike giggled, then looked around at the small, plastic-wrapped alcove Will had chosen to commit his horrible crime and nodded to himself. “We should get started now. You up for it?” Will nodded again, his smile faltering slightly as he heard what Mike had to say next. “Great! I’m going to need your help; I can’t carry his corpse by myself.”

Right, about that…

“He’s still alive,” Will declared, a frown now between his eyebrows because despite all the damage he’d caused to Troy’s neck and shoulder, the asshole was still very much breathing and —perhaps more importantly— awake.

Awake and with wide eyes, terror clear in his pupils as he desperately tried to yell, say something, make a singular noise. But he couldn’t, not after what Will had done to his throat, not after his larynx was nearly ripped out of his body at the crux of Will’s frenzy, voice box reduced to a mangled mess that Will had only left behind because of how tendony and unpleasant that area had felt when he bit into it, the swelling his failed bite had caused somehow managing to slow down the haemorrhage so much that Troy was still holding on for dear life, a whole five minutes after the original attack.

It was… odd, to see someone so loud and obnoxious like Troy suddenly reduced to a quivering mess, unable to move out of fear of bleeding out and unable to make a sound as if Will had designed his attack to render him powerless in retribution for the years of abuse the entire Party had endured at the hands of his current victim when, in reality, Will had only attacked in blind hunger. Now that Troy was laying in a pool of his own blood, however, Will couldn’t help the perverse satisfaction that took over his brain as he realised that he’d done it: he’d fulfilled his years-long desire to get back at Troy for everything he’d done and no matter how this all ended, it was a fact that the bully would never, ever, touch any of his friends again.

It was deliciously twisted, and the grumble in Will’s stomach was enough indication that such trail of thoughts was reawakening the side of his that would never stop being hungry, the idea of depriving Troy of the arms and hands he’d used to harm them for years almost loud enough to obfuscate Mike’s voice.

Almost.

Like a bee to honey, he could never fully ignore Mike Wheeler, his soft voice doing little to hide the darkness in his words and perhaps that was the reason Will was able to ignore his renewed appetite for a few more seconds.

“Not for long,” Mike mumbled, dark eyes fixed on the writhing shape that laid on the floor in front of them. Noticing he had Will’s entire attention on him, Mike forced a smile and dismissively gestured towards Troy’s body. “Tell me when you’re ready to go,” he said and, when Will only nodded again, he continued speaking. “Good. Give me a second.”

And with that, putting on a gym-class jacket atop his outfit and clenching his hand around the handle of a hammer Will hadn’t noticed he’d grabbed, the sweet, adorable-looking Mike Wheeler he’d known his whole life rose his arm with determination and, after a beat, swung the hammer right into Troy’s head, the mute boy letting out a weak breath in lieu of a scream for Will had already deprived him of the chance to let his death be known to the world. When that didn’t kill him, Mike swung the hammer again. And again. Over and over until Troy’s face became unrecognisable mush, whatever skull structure he’d ever had being reduced to nothing but bone splinters and blood. They could easily leave the body there and no one would ever be able to tell who it belonged to at that point, the viciousness with which his friend turned their once-bully into a pulp something Will had never expected to witness from someone as gentle and kind-hearted as Mike.

It was a brutal attack, one that Will’s dark self very much enjoyed watching, and the satisfaction of knowing that he wasn’t the only messed up one in their friend group was something he’d have to process once they were back home playing with their Atari and stuffing their cheeks full of popcorn.

For now, however, he smiled, watching Mike’s handiwork as his beloved best friend finally let go of the hammer and sank to the floor in exhaustion, a good three metres away from their mess in order to keep his pants and shoes in pristine condition because of course he was smart enough to keep his own clothes clean from the incriminating blood. Eyeing the rise and fall of Mike’s chest as he fought to catch his breath to say something, Will decided this was as good of a time as any to mention the fact that, for some reason, he was once again in desperate need of a snack.

“Actually, I’m already hungry again,” Will spoke, his voice seemingly snapping Mike out of some trance, dark pupils dilated in what Will could only imagine was a mirror reflection of his own. When Mike arched an eyebrow in mild disbelief, Will could only shrug and smirk teasingly. “The less weight we have to carry the better, right?” He asked, and his words made Mike roll his eyes in faux annoyance.

“Just don’t overeat. You know it makes you feel sick for like a week.”

Will chuckled at that, kneeling next to Troy’s incredibly bloody corpse and grabbing one of his hands with both of his, mouth filling with saliva as plans to strip both arms down to the bone formulated in his very sick, very wretched brain. To be entirely honest, Will wasn’t sure he was capable of overeating anymore, the fact that he could probably eat Troy’s entire corpse in a day something he’d be sure to share with Mike later, when they were safe and he was done eating.

Before he took a bite, however, he was mindful enough to shoot his best friend a wide smile and a message. “Thanks, Mike,” he said, then clarified what he meant once he noticed the other’s confusion. “For having my back.”

Mike scoffed, removing the bloodied jacket from his slender body as he light-heartedly replied with two simple words.

“Crazy together.”

The callback had Will smiling from ear to ear.

“Crazy together,” he said, then let go of his conscious mind as his animal side took over and sunk his teeth into the still warm flesh of his and Mike’s first victim.

And it didn’t make much sense, and he might’ve very well imagined it in his delusional state, but as Will fed he glanced up at Mike a couple times and he could almost swear that he saw Mike’s pupils dilate again as a powerful emotion, one Will had seen a few times in the past, took over his expression. And irrational, feral and insane as he was, he was pretty certain that he’d gotten it wrong but, if Will didn’t know any better, he’d almost think Mike was jealous he wasn’t the one being eaten, torn apart and consumed by Will. Wasn’t the one eliciting such sounds of happiness and delight from him, the sweet taste of human flesh satisfying his body’s new needs and desires.

And despite being certain about the fact that he’d imagined such a reaction, Will couldn’t help but to scoff.

He’d only tasted a droplet of his blood, but Will knew for a fact that Mike was by far the most delicious person in the entirety of Hawkins; one he’d very much like to devour bit by bit, savouring every bite as he reached even higher levels of bliss he knew he’d never be able to imagine, the promise of eternal happiness something he’d only achieve the day he gave into his strongest temptation and gave Mike what he apparently desired.

Mike had no reason to be jealous at all.

#🔨#✨#🧸#byler #byler fanfiction #byler fanfic #byler ficlet #will byers #mike wheeler #dark byler agenda #cannibyler #w // graphic depictions of violence #w // cannibalism #w // murder

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mariana-oconnor · 1 year ago

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The Disappearance of Lady Frances Carfax pt 1

Well, that title is a little different from the usual ones.

“The bath!” he said; “the bath! Why the relaxing and expensive Turkish rather than the invigorating home-made article?”

So Watson has been to the Turkish baths? As part of a 'alternative' lifestyle. Right. Got it. Okay then.

Nice to have an introduction of Holmes teasing Watson with deductions about him.

“One of the most dangerous classes in the world,” said he, “is the drifting and friendless woman. She is the most harmless and often the most useful of mortals, but she is the inevitable inciter of crime in others."

I'd like to congratulate Holmes here on giving such an incredible example of victim blaming. Just, beautifully done. Pure, unsullied victim blaming. And in such a way that it blames all single female victims. Bravo.

"There is one correspondent who is a sure draw, Watson. That is the bank. Single ladies must live, and their passbooks are compressed diaries."

I assume that this is specifically vs married ladies who would not have to handle their own money, but the way it's phrased does make me chuckle. Because no one else must live except Single ladies, and no one else uses banks.

"Besides, on general principles it is best that I should not leave the country. Scotland Yard feels lonely without me, and it causes an unhealthy excitement among the criminal classes."

Lestrade when Sherlock goes away.

So Holmes is just sending Watson on holiday? Is this just because Watson's feeling rheumatic and old? Is there even a case? Historically, though, Watson has never done all too well on his own - at least according to Holmes. He usually misses every piece of information Holmes would like him to get.

Marie Devine, the maid, was as popular as her mistress. She was actually engaged to one of the head waiters in the hotel...

That explains the money given to her, then.

He connected the sudden departure with the visit to the hotel a day or two before of a tall, dark, bearded man. “Un sauvage—un véritable sauvage!” cried Jules Vibart.

Do we have anyone else's word about this other than the maid and her waiter's?

Only one thing Jules would not discuss. That was the reason why Marie had left her mistress.

So it... wasn't to marry him? That seems like a reason to me, but I don't really know, I suppose. I would have assumed she just left because she wanted to get married to someone who loved in Lausanne. It would definitely be easier if she didn't have to leave Lausanne whenever Lady Frances wanted.

While there she had made the acquaintance of a Dr. Shlessinger and his wife, a missionary from South America. Like most lonely ladies, Lady Frances found her comfort and occupation in religion. Dr. Shlessinger's remarkable personality, his whole hearted devotion, and the fact that he was recovering from a disease contracted in the exercise of his apostolic duties affected her deeply. She had helped Mrs. Shlessinger in the nursing of the convalescent saint.

These people seem suspicious. But I can't say why. Maybe just because they seem too religious to be true. A disease contracted in the exercise of his duties? It just kind of feels like a scam to me. Maybe I'm wrong.

“None; but he was an Englishman, though of an unusual type.” “A savage?” said I, linking my facts after the fashion of my illustrious friend.

I mean... objection: leading the witness springs to mind. Don't give a person a description, ask them for a description, Watson.

Already the mystery began to define itself, as figures grow clearer with the lifting of a fog.

I'm pretty sure you're just creating a whole new smoke cloud to add to the fog so you can see even less, but sure.

I'm not 100% convinced this savage wasn't Holmes himself in disguise, but I am a very suspicious person.

In reply I had a telegram asking for a description of Dr. Shlessinger's left ear. Holmes's ideas of humour are strange and occasionally offensive, so I took no notice of his ill-timed jest...

I don't think that was a joke, Watson. I think he actually wanted to know about the guy's ear.

“You are an Englishman,” I said. “What if I am?” he asked with a most villainous scowl. “May I ask what your name is?” “No, you may not,” said he with decision. The situation was awkward, but the most direct way is often the best.

You've already been fairly direct, Watson. Running up to a random person and declaring their nationality without even stopping to say bonjour is kind of rude.

And now you're getting attacked.

“Well, Watson,” said he, “a very pretty hash you have made of it! I rather think you had better come back with me to London by the night express.”

I mean, I hate to say I told you so, Watson but I really did tell you so. Holmes, why do you let Watson go unsupervised when he never manages to do what you want? I know Lestrade would pine without you, but I'm sure he could cope for a few weeks. Probably.

Current theory is that Holmes only sent Watson so he could get some fresh Alpine air. As to what happened to Lady Frances, I have no idea. But I think maybe the 'savage' is on her side, not against her.

#Letters from Watson #The Disappearance of Lady Frances Carfax #Sherlock Holmes #long post

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corrodedseraphine · 2 years ago

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playlist | #9 ma belle Evangeline

pairing: eddie munson x henderson!reader

summary: Just when you thought the boy you were in love with all through high school was gone, he suddenly reappears as your little brother's friend. Fate has once again decided to join your paths, however, everything turns out to be a bit complicated. Will Eddie Munson's sudden return to your life bring with it even more changes?

the story is also avaliable on ao3

masterlist | eddie munson masterlist | general masterlist

song that I used: Ma Belle Evangeline from Princess and The Frog

the end! I would like to thank every single one of you who have spent their time reading this story, thank you for the comments, likes, reblongs, for your support, for everything, I really didn't expected this story to have this amount of attention!

I would like to dedicate this chapter to @i-me-mine, my bestie, my biggest writing supporter, great and very talented writer and the most lovely person on Earth. Thank you, you have no idea how grateful I am to have you in my life.

When the day of your departure from the hospital finally arrived, you couldn't wait to go home. Fortunately, there were no serious injuries, so you were only bothered by bruises, cuts and healing scratches from the glass that were annoyingly itchy. That because you were the only person in your house who had a driver's license, and Steve couldn't pick you up that day, Eddie offered without hesitation to take care of it. First thing in the morning, they showed up there along with your mom and Dustin, the boys quickly picked up the bags with your belongings and carried them to the car while you, with your mom's help, slowly walked towards it, as you insisted on leaving the hospital on your own. After lying down for so long, your body had definitely become unaccustomed to any kind of movement, and by the time you were outside your system had suffered a slight shock which made your head spin. Noticing you stopping in mid-stride they ran back up to you.

"Are you okay?" asked Dustin.

"Yeah, I just got a little weak." you said.

"Baby, are you sure you can make it to the car by yourself?" your mother asked.

"Yes!" you retorted a little too irritated.

"It will take forever!" Dustin shouted at which you sent him a murderous look.

"Stop whining and just go and open the car." said Eddie throwing the keys at him. And then he extended his hand toward you offering support. Slowly step by step you finally reached the car and drove home.

There waiting for you was the longing Naveen, with whom you would not part for an inch for the near time. Eddie helped carry your things into the room.

"Thank you." you said still holding the dog in your arms.

"You're welcome." Eddie winked at you. "How are you feeling?"

"Better now." You replied, sitting down on the bed and smiling in his direction. It was known that it would be a very long time until you completely recovered from what had happened. You also weren't sure how soon you would be able to return to driving, if at all.

"Are you sure?" he asked seeing your thoughtful face and sat down next to you. "You look worried," he said.

"Until Dustin gets his driver's license, I'm the only person in our house who has been responsible for driving, and now the very thought of having to sit behind the wheel freaks me out."

"Hey, don't worry about it now 'kay? You just got back from the hospital, give yourself time to recover." he moved even closer to you, so that you were now touching each other's shoulders. "Besides, you can always count on me, not just with being your chauffeur, in everything." The smell of frying bacon spread through the house, sensing this Naveen jumped out of your embrace and at the speed of light headed for the kitchen leaving you alone.

"Thank you Eddie." you said resting your head on his shoulder.

"You don't have to thank me, the pleasure is mine." he said quietly and uncertainly put one arm around you. You closed your eyes feeling yourself slowly start to calm down and relax. "y/n?" he asked after a moment of silence.

"Hm?" you muttered still not opening your eyes.

"I- I wanted to tell you something..." Hearing his nervous tone, you raised your head to look at him.

"Breakfast ready!" Your mother's voice boomed throughout the house without giving him a chance to finish.

"Come on, she would lose her mind if you didn't stay for the breakfast." you laughed rising from the bed.

The breakfast passed in a pleasant atmosphere for you. Eddie at first felt a little out of place feeling that his presence here didn't belong, but you, Dustin and your mother included him in every conversation that was brought up at the table making his anxiety slowly disappear. When you finished eating the boys helped your mom clean up and Robin and Steve came over to you to see how you were feeling. While you were hanging out with your friends, Dustin insisted that they do their little math lesson with Eddie now, and only when they finished did they join you. Eventually Robin and Steve had to go for their shift at Family Video leaving the three of you alone.

"So what do we do now?" asked Dustin.

"I don't know about you, but I would kill for a burger from Benny's after eating crappy hospital food for so long." You said with a sigh.

"Then what are you waiting for? Get up and let's go." said Eddie breaking off on both feet with a smile. Going out for burgers, however, did not turn out to be a good idea. As soon as you entered the restaurant everyone's eyes were on you. In Hawkins, all news spread instantly, so the one about your accident didn't miss any of the locals either. Seeing them whispering something to each other and observing your visible damage you felt stressed. The behavior of the others did not escape Eddie's attention. Seeing you nervously playing with your fingers he put his hand between yours and intertwined your fingers.

"Is that okay?" he asked quietly. He wasn't sure if that was a good idea. He knew that when people saw you holding the hand of a local freak they might start talking even more. But it was more than okay. Feeling you squeeze his hand even tighter his thumb began to draw small circles on top of it wanting to give you some comfort. Then the curious looks of people and their whispers disappeared. All that mattered were your hands joined together.

"Hi guys! What can I get you?" Benny greeted you with a broad smile.

"Three times number five, please." Dustin said. Number five was your favorite dish on the menu, you smiled slightly appreciating the small gesture from your brother.

"Anything else?"

"Yeah, can we take a takeaway?" asked Eddie.

"Of course."

"Thanks."

After waiting a while, you took the food and returned home with it to eat in peace without prying eyes pointed in your direction. You were grateful for that, you felt much more comfortable now than you would have in a restaurant.

"I'm going to Will's to play on the console, will you tell Mom I'll be back late?" asked Dustin while finishing his food.

"Yeah, sure." said slightly disappointed.

"Great, bye!" he shouted and a second later he was gone. You sighed and started to collect the plates.

"I'll take care of it." said Eddie taking them from your hands and carried everything into the kitchen. "Something tells me you're not in the best mood, the food didn't taste good?" he asked sitting down across from you at the table.

"It was delicious, my stomach is now overjoyed." you assured him forcing yourself to smile.

"But what about the rest? The rest don't seem to be very happy."

"It's nothing. It's silly." you shrugged your shoulders.

"Wanna talk about this?"

"It's just... Whenever one of us has a bad day or is sick we do movie marathons with Dustin. We usually watch our favorite Disney movies, and I was kind of hoping that today would be the same."

"I may not be as good company as Dustin, but I'm a little behind when it comes to Disney and I'd love to catch up today." he offered.

"Do you really want to?" your face beamed. Seeing this, his heart sped up.

"Sure I do. Sounds like a perfectly good evening."

"Okay!" you exclaimed excitedly rising from your chair. What you didn't think about, however, was that getting up so abruptly would make your head start spinning again. Slightly stunned, you sat back down.

"What happened?" he asked worried.

"I got up a little too quickly." you replied grabbing your head.

"Someone seems to forget that she just got out of the hospital." he smirked.

"Possibly," you laughed lightly.

"Let's take it slow okay? I'll help you."

Just as he said so it happened. Together you slowly prepared a place in the living room filled with blankets and pillows so that you would be most comfortable. You arranged snacks on the coffee table and began to watch. Naveen quickly came running towards you, you opened your arms but the dog quickly jumped over your legs to find himself in Eddie's lap a moment later.

"Traitor!" you shouted in shock. "I feel rejected," you said dramatically putting your hand to your chest.

"Oh come on, there's enough room for the two of you. Plus I know you can't stay mad at him for too long, this guy has you wrapped around his paw." He laughed then put his arm around you shoving you closer to him. With pleasure and a quick heartbeat, you accepted this state of things. Although you loved movie marathons in the company of your younger brother, what was happening now was much better. Movie after movie flew by and you completely lost track of time. Every now and then you changed positions still being very close to each other. Now Eddie had a pillow on his lap where your head was lying. His hand loosely on the indentation of your waist. Feeling its pleasant warmth, you had a little trouble concentrating on what was happening on the screen, but it didn't bother you because, after all, you knew everything almost by heart. Eddie, despite his willingness, couldn't focus either. When you were lying on his lap he could hardly restrain himself not to start playing with your hair which was slightly falling on the pillow or to keep his hand only in one place.

"Ready to know where the idea to name this little traitor came from?" you asked when another of the movie came to an end.

"I was born ready!" he said enthusiastically, and Naveen barked as if he was nodding at him.

"Oh no, I'm not talking to you. You broke my heart today!" you said, pointing your finger at the pet, which completely ignored your words and came over to lay its muzzle on you.

"I think, you've already forgiven him." Eddie laughed as he saw you start patting him.

"I'm too weak to resist him." You rolled your eyes.

"Hey before we start... I have a question." he changed the subject.

"Yeah?"

"In a week Gareth's cousin is opening a new bar in the area and he asked us to play some songs, I thought maybe you'd like to go with us? After all, you haven't heard the latest Corroded Coffin song yet."

"Sure! I'd love to finally hear it." you replied with a smile.

"But this time I'll drive you there, okay? I want to make sure you get there all right." he chuckled.

"We have a deal." With your finger, you lightly tapped the tip of his nose giggling. "Can I take Robin and Steve with me?"

"Yeah, I was just about to suggest it." he replied, feeling himself melt under the impact of your small gesture and the sound of your laughter. The words of how much he adores you came to his lips, but he had to save that for another moment. Charging you with such information right after you left the hospital didn't seem like the best idea to him.

"Then what would you kiss a frog?" he asked when the title appeared on the screen.

"If I was sure that he would turn into the perfect prince with whom I would live happily ever after? Probably yes."

"Okay princess your brain injury must be much more serious than the doctors said." he laughed putting his hand to your forehead pretending to check if you had a fever. Which could be partially true. Princess. That word from his mouth made you get unimaginably hot.

"Shut up and watch." you muttered trying to hide your blush.

Halfway through the movie, Dustin came home.

"I can't believe she made you watch this." he said walking into the living room.

"It was his voluntary decision." you said lifting your head slightly from his lap.

"Eddie blink three times if you need help." Your brother crossed his arms over his chest and watched with amusement as Eddie began to blink rapidly. You knew he was just teasing and it was a joke, but you decided to play along. You grabbed the remote, paused the movie and, sat up straight, looking at Munson with a deadly serious expression.

"If you are so awfully uncomfortable spending time with me you can go. I won't keep you here by force." You said without taking your eyes off him. The smile from his face immediately disappeared and was replaced by shock.

"What? Wait, y/n I was only joking, I was the one who suggested watching myself-" panicked, he began to explain quickly. You glanced at Dustin and when your gazes met you both burst out laughing. Seeing this, Eddie was relieved. He was seriously frightened that you were serious.

"Ha, ha. Veeery funny." he huffed. "Give it back. I have to find out who Evangeline is." he snatched the remote from your hands. So he was really playing attention, after all.

"One of my favorite moments." You smiled as Ray began to sing.

Look how she lights up the sky| Ma Belle Evangeline So far above me, yet I Know her heart belongs to only me

Je t'adore, Je t'aime Evangeline You're my queen of the night So still So bright

That someone as beautiful as she Could love someone like me Love always finds a way it's true! And I love you, Evangeline

Love is beautiful Love is wonderful! Love is everything, do you agree? Mais oui! Look how she lights up the sky I love you, Evangeline

With a smile you watched the TV humming a song under your breath. Taking the opportunity that you were focused on something else Eddie shifted his gaze to you. The sight was incredibly charming. He then thought that you would definitely light up the whole sky. Your slightest smile was so bright that it easily lit up his life. As the song came to an end his eyes returned to the screen.

"Wait! They didn't kiss?" he asked outraged. "Oh come on!"

"Yeah, I can't believe they haven't done it yet either, after all, it's obvious with the naked eye that they feel something for each other, right Eddie?" asked Dustin in a very insistent tone.

"Yeah..." Eddie knew what your brother was getting at and felt a little nervous about it. "But on the other hand, maybe they need some patience? And they're waiting for the right moment?"

"They're waiting until it's too late?" Dustin didn't give up.

"Geez, boys." interrupted them. "Let's just keep watching." You didn't know where such an exchange between them had come from, but you didn't suspect what might be between the lines.

"I've watched the movie enough times, I'll leave you two alone." Your brother shrugged his shoulders. "And Eddie, I hope you remember your promise?"

Metalhead was taken aback by the question and went pale, swallowing his saliva loudly. He was afraid that Dustin and his big mouth were about to say a few words too many and ruin everything. "Yes, I remember." he replied trying to sound calm. "Don't worry about it."

"I was just making sure."

When the boy disappeared into his room you tried to figure out what the promise was but Eddie was unbreakable, so you finally gave up, and your head went back to the pillow that lay on his lap. With little focus on the movie anymore, you allowed yourself a moment to dream about how pleasant it would be if days like this spent in Eddie's company were more frequent.

Throughout the week you hosted guests one by one, because of which time flew by very quickly. The day before the guys' gig, you and Robin arranged a sleepover. Dustin was sitting in his room and playing with the boys when your mom asked him to go to the store. When he walked away from the computer he forgot to mute the microphone due to which everyone could hear a rather loud conversation between you and Robin.

"I'm not going anywhere!" you shouted while standing in front of the bathroom mirror. Today, unfortunately, was one of those days when your self-esteem decided to fall below zero and the wound on your cheek looked even nastier than usual. Eddie curiously began to listen further.

"What are you talking about?" asked Robin. "All week you haven't stopped talking about how much you can't wait!"

"Look at me Robin! I can't even put much makeup on because of this stupid wound!" you walked out of the bathroom into the hallway making your voices even clearer.

"y/n I beg you to stop! Do you really think the only thing Eddie will pay attention to will be your lack of makeup?"

"Dude..." Upon hearing this, Gareth spoke up, but Eddie didn't let him finish.

"Shut up." Eddie said, still listening.

"Maybe he won't pay attention to me at all? Maybe he doesn't even need me there? I'm almost certain he won't be able to chase away girls who are his type."

"Stop being dramatic! How in the world do you know what his type is?" Robin understood how you felt, she knew very well that your insecurities were sometimes far too loud, but she also knew how much you cared about Eddie. You spent almost half the night analyzing your feelings for him.

"I don't know! I'm sure there will be some metal beauty with bloody red lips who will definitely attract his attention." you felt hopeless. What were you really expecting? That out of so many people he would choose you? The thought that you were probably misinterpreting all his signals towards you dragged you down. "Give me my phone. I'll cancel everything." you said in a resigned voice.

"No way!" she shouted and quickly took your phone.

"Robin give back my phone!"

"I won't give it back until you calm down and stop being dramatic."

"Guys I don't think we should listen to all this..." said Will uncertainly.

"It's not our fault they're so loud." replied Mike.

"Eddie will you do something about it?" asked Jeff, but before he could answer they heard Robin's voice again.

"You have a message! Guess from who!" she shouted.

"Robin!" you tried to snatch the phone from her but she ran away from you to Dustin's room and closed the door in front of you.

"It's Eddie, he's asking how you are and what time he can pick you up." she said through the door. Hearing that you wanted to resign he knew he had to react somehow. It was the only option that came to his mind at that moment.

"Robin please give me back my phone." You leaned your forehead against the door.

"I will give it back on the condition that you don't let that monster in your head win and believe me that your presence to him will be more important than crowds of horny groupies." Eddie laughed under his breath hearing this statement. However, your friend was right. It was your presence that he cared most about. "Oh, another message! He wrote that he's happy you'll be there and he's already looking forward to it!"

"Stop lying to me Robin." after a moment, the door abruptly opened causing you to fall into the room. If it wasn't for the fact that she caught you at the last moment you would have been lying on the floor long ago.

"Look." she said, placing the phone in front of your face. "I'm not lying. You feel something for Eddie, you started feeling it back when you were still in a relationship with Tom, and I also know that Eddie feels something for you, so can you stop being idiots and finally do something about it?"

"What the hell are you guys doing in my room?" interrupted Dustin, who had returned from the store.

"We've been playing hide and seek, what else?" your friend said sarcastically.

You returned to your room where, under Robin's supervision, you began to get ready. A part of you was glad that she was so stubborn and wouldn't let you give up, but the other part was trembling with anxiety.

It was exactly as you thought. Eddie mesmerized most of the audience with his behavior on stage, all around you you could hear the other girls marveling at him, even drooling at the sight of his fingers gracefully stroking the strings. Could you blame them? Of course not. Because it had exactly the same effect on you. Again, you felt like you were in high school when you snuck into their performances at the Hideout to feast your eyes on him and keep every detail in your thoughts, knowing that admiring him was the only thing you had to do. Now you had the feeling that you were in awe of him much more. Especially when his eyes found you every now and then in the crowd, with a wide smile on his face. The excitement you felt then and your heart beating to the rhythm of the music he played made it hard for you to sit still. The sounds he made from his sweetheart made you feel shivers and heat all over your body. Slowly it started to get swelteringly. After the show was over, as if attracted by a magnet, you moved towards him.

"You guys were great! People loved you!" you exclaimed excitedly. Seeing his face light up even more you felt like pulling him as close to you as possible, but Eddie did it for you. He drew you to his sweaty body and hugged you with all his strength.

"I'm so freaking happy you're here." he exhaled while resting his forehead on yours.

"Me too. The new song was great." You pushed back the strands of hair stuck to his face with your hand.

"Did you like it? I wrote it myself."

"Yes, very much." you said feeling a stab of anxiety. Since he wrote it himself he must have written it with someone in mind. You had no idea who this girl was, but the jealousy that awoke in you was surprising. Feeling all this, you moved away from him.

"Excuse me! Hi!" came the sound of a female voice from behind you. "I am Lucy and this is my friend Amanda." the girls looked just like you described earlier Robin. A dream come true for any metalhead. Strong makeup, bold clothes added to their charm. They were beautiful, that could not be denied. You took this as a sign to move back into the shadows. Feeling out of place without a word, you walked away leaving him with his new fans and decided it was time to get some fresh air. The evening was quite chilly, wrapping yourself in the thin jacket you took with you, you sat down on a bench. The sky was clear and the stars twinkled beautifully.

"Did you find her?" you felt a hand on your shoulder and jumped up frightened. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." said Eddie sitting down next to you.

"Where's your jacket, are you crazy?" you asked seeing his bare shoulders start to get covered with goosebumps. "You're all sweaty, do you want to be sick?"

"Woah! You don't have to yell at me!" he laughed, not expecting such a reaction. He wasn't used to anyone but Wayne worrying about him like that. The fact that it was you made him flustered.

"I won't talk to you until you put your jacket on, your uncle will kill me if I let you sit all sweaty in the wind. Your next wish is pneumonia?"

"Your wish is my command." he said and quickly ran to the van to take out a sweatshirt which he quickly pulled over himself. "Better?" he asked returning.

"Better." You nodded.

"So...I'll ask again. Did you find her?"

"Who?" you looked straight into his eyes. They looked even deeper in the evening darkness. He was still smiling, causing cute little wrinkles to spider in their corners, and they sparkled as if all the stars of the sky were reflected in them.

"Evangeline. Did you find her?" he looked up.

"Oh, no. Unfortunately, no." you replied.

"I think I found mine, y'know?"

"That's great Eddie." you lied. "You found her a while ago and her name is Lucy or Amanda?" you wanted to joke about it but the bitterness in your voice was very audible.

Eddie laughed and shook his head. The wind blew harder. "Put the damn hood on, Monson." you muttered while pulling the material over his head. "Your hair is still wet, you're really asking for a fever." What you didn't expect, however, was that as you brushed his hair away from his face Eddie would feel a surge of courage and pull you close to kiss you. Your reaction was almost automatic. You reciprocated the kiss and he put his hands on your waist with intention to pull you into his lap. "I found my Evangeline years ago. In high school." he said pulling away from you for a moment. "I was hopelessly in love with her, I recently found out that she was in love with me too, and I can't forgive myself for not doing it sooner." another kiss. "For years she was the brightest in my sky, hell, she still is. I thought I had to be patient but I can't. I can't stand it anymore." Another kiss in which he showed how thirsty he was for you. You gave yourself over to it completely. In that moment, nothing else mattered.

"When you graduated from high school I lost you once. The second time we almost all lost you after that damn accident and I can't let that happen anymore, not when you're this close, you must know how I feel about you, that you're my queen of the night."

"Eddie if you talk to me with references to this movie you will never get away from me." You laughed and this time it was you who kissed him.

"Oh God please, never." he muttered into your mouth wrapping his arms tighter around you. "I made a promise. I made a promise to your stupid brother that I would tell you all about it. That I will tell you how much I adore you, how much I love the time I spent with you, how beautiful you are. And by the way, you have nothing to worry about with your scar." He said putting his hand to your cheek. "It is beautiful. You are beautiful. Besides, you look like a real badass with it. Are you sure you're not a witcher?"

"And what, do you want to see my silver sword?" you felt your cheeks start to hurt from smiling but nothing could stop you from doing so.

"I want to see everything you want to show me." he whispered again closing the gap between you. "Be mine, please, give me a chance, give us a chance, I swear I will do everything to make you happy."

"I've already given you my heart, so I think giving you a chance won't be a problem."

"I never thought that dreams could come true." he hugged you with all his strength.

"Apparently, this time we said them to a lucky star." You cuddled your face into the bend of his neck. The warmth you felt from him was beginning to feel like something entirely new. As your new favorite place. Your safe haven.

"Good thing Dustin forgot to mute his microphone this morning and I could hear your conversation with Buckley. If it wasn't for that I don't think I would have dared to do it today." he chuckled.

"Oh my god, did you hear that?" Now your sense of happiness was violated by embarrassment. "I'm going to kill him.

"But do it later, 'kay? Now you're here with me and let nothing else matter." If he was going to kiss like this, you were sure it would be hard to find something more important to you than what was developing between you.

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iceswords · 5 months ago

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The Determination Of A Father

it didn't take very long for the general to take action, looking into the memory meme as soon as he heard the news of what happened to yanqing. checking the boy's room and finding that several upon several ice swords had been summoned- all circling about with no clue what to do while their master remained unconscious laying within the memoria of the dreampool before moving to strike when the door had opened only for the man to stop and put up his hands to show he meant no harm.

swords quick to recognize jing yuan, realize there was no threat and return to being idle.

yanqing was most certainly alive in there if his ice swords hadn't vanished in reality. he recalled the young boy having mentioned that he was having some trouble summoning them in the dream but it seems enchanting them up in general still worked as it should. the ice swords were just.. very confused.

jing yuan would go to speak with sunday only to find that the pastor wasn't in the usual location you would find him, opting to look over any reading material and report relating to the memory meme called "death".

of course.. a foxian woman was one of the victims.

and there was yanqing's description added to the list now. this "death" clearly wasn't what the family claims it to be or as it was rumored to be. jing yuan went to check the exact spot in the golden hour where yanqing had been cornered by the bloodhounds. he had no doubt that his apprentice would have fought his way out and therefore the memory meme must have taken yanqing by surprise.

after gathering information, jing yuan could safely say that the arrival of a escape route was the reason yanqing ended up here but what kind of an escape route was the true surprise. he waited there to a moment or two until the bloodhounds left and continued to wait until.. he closed his eyes and felt a piercing stab through his chest.

he didn't think about the change of scenery upon opening his eyes again, only continued on and looked around for the boy.

" have you seen my pupil? this tall, blonde hair." he asked one of the locals in dreamflux reef, " wearing a lot of blues, pinks, red and yellow." they were able to point him in the right direction, even letting him know that his child had been patiently waiting in timesplit square or slumber town for the man this whole time. yanqing had full faith that the general would come looking and eventually find him.

and soon enough jing yuan would spot the boy upon reaching timesplit square. yanqing was in the middle of talking a friend of his- who looked to be the head of security at herta space station. the white haired boy's id badge confirming his identity to jing yuan but the general's focus was more on yanqing as he approached.

" didn't keep you waiting long, did I?" was what the man asked causing yanqing to casually look over with a smirk on his face. his faith in the general having been proven right and who wouldn't feel good about something like that.

" a hundred and nine system hours." yanqing would causally note in reply as if having been considered dead and the man running around to find the boy was just some kind of a game or challenge, " you're usually better at hide and seek than this, general but you got here eventually as I knew you would!"

" well, your departure was sudden." jing yuan pointed out to the boy as he soon let out a sigh of relief while a soft smile crossed his features. jing yuan knew that yanqing could handle himself but man did that news of him being killed give the general a heart attack. " also next time you 'die', it would be best to let me know you're not actually dead. I had to go through almost all the seven stages of grief before getting here."

" oh, right.." yanqing's confident smirk turning into a frown as eyebrows narrowed. he hadn't even thought about letting jing yuan know in some way that he was still alive. honestly most of his thoughts were off somewhere else on somebody else.

arlan looked between yanqing and jing yuan for a second before deciding to give the father-son duo a moment alone to talk. telling yanqing that he would see him later before heading off.

jing yuan smiled down at his kid who started to feel bad for leaving the man in the dark for a hundred and nine system hours. the man was not angry with the boy, he had suspected this kind of outcome from yanqing at this point yet couldn't stop himself from feeling a little disappointed because yanqing did know better. it wasn't the time for a lecture though.

jing yuan could see that yanqing was dealing with a lot right now. being the responsible parent that jing yuan was, he didn't let his own emotions affect how he treated yanqing as he gave the boy a gentle pet on the head as a way of letting him know that he was just glad that yanqing was okay.

watching as that frown of yanqing's frown switched into a smile as he looked up at the man. jing yuan's approval was one thing that yanqing always longed for. the love and acceptance of a father though neither would ever outwardly admit to the bond they shared. it didn't really need to be.

" it's alright, yanqing. I know you have had some difficulties within the dream so far. it's a lot.. a new environment, new people and perhaps even new emotions." jing yuan explained as he looked down at the boy with a soft expression that belonged to a parent who truly cared deeply about their child and wants to see him succeed in life but also wants to keep him safe. " I think these things would become much clearer if you talked about them. if your ice swords floating around your hotel room back in reality are any indication, you are clearly in a very confusing time of your life."

yanqing let out a breath of his own, looking away as he didn't feel talking about and even if he did- he had no idea how to explain it or where to start but jing yuan was patient with him as the two found someplace to sit and talk about what has been going on.

" there has been this lingering feeling. doesn't happen when I'm here in dreamflux reef but back there in the golden hour? it felt like I was under a trance. like.. somebody opened up my skull and started to scrub away at my brain with a bar of soap. it kept me telling me to.. forget all my problems. just embrace the dream. indulge in.. everything."

" hmm.. sounds like what most people in the dream have been experiencing yet they were not as aware of it as you are." started up jing yuan, " they are willing to forget their problems and a lot have even given up on their real lives. you are not so willing to give up. this sensation seems to be connected to the stellaron present."

" I've been fighting it this whole time. it's almost like.. they think I'm weak. I am not weak." stated yanqing, " the stellaron.. it's located up there in that floating building, right? ohh! I knew something was up with that! it's just so.. eerily beautiful. makes you want to just.. never leave the dream. not that I actually would."

that feeling had no longer been present as long as he was in dreamflux reef. yanqing felt more in control of his actions and could think more clearly without some advertisement playing in the background every twenty seconds. this.. this was the true dream. calm and relaxing without any stress. he could just.. be.

jing yuan couldn't help but give out an amused huff, shaking his head with arms crossed over his chest as that soft smile still lingered. " I have no doubt. it's not like you to remain stationary and while the dream may have it's thrills, it is nowhere close to the real thing. though I think there is something else at play here in your case. that bellhop."

" oh, misha? yeah.. we've been spending a lot of time together. he has been a really good guide in the dream!" yanqing gave up a big old smile as he talked about the bellhop in question. he really couldn't help himself even though this was the first time he had talked to someone else about misha rather than just talk to misha himself.

he felt so.. warm inside. it was a different kind of warmth than yanqing was used to though. images of misha would appear and flash through his mind even without having to talk about him. he really couldn't get the bellhop out of his mind.

" oh, so.. you like misha." jing yuan was able to deduce from this one interaction and while yanqing found his cheeks heat up when it was pointed out, he wasn't exactly surprised that the general would have figured it out so quickly.

first, arlan and misha and now his dad.. it seems like only yanqing was unaware of what these feelings were.

yanqing had just known that he found misha pretty and thought he was the nicest person ever. misha couldn't possibly do anything wrong in his eyes but while he usually had faith in the people he cared about such as jing yuan, uncle yingxing and shoi-ming- it was different when it came to misha. yanqing just couldn't pinpoint why it was so different until misha kissed on his cheek after arlan gave his insights on the two boys' relationship.

" what's there not to like?" yanqing did his best to remain cool when talking to his father about this topic, " he is funny, sweet, caring and such a hardworking guy! he sees the good in everyone." you could practically see hearts start to float around yanqing as he rambled on and on about his new boyfriend.

#🫧🐟 the common nonsense of a dream

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awlfan · 1 year ago

Text

Better Knowing the Valley- Daryl

It had been a little over a week since Melody had visited the eccentric scientist. While he didn’t come off as overly warm or friendly, the farmer still found herself curious about the man. She wanted to visit him again sooner, but she didn’t want to return to him empty handed. She had told him she would bring him something proper to eat once her kitchen was properly stocked. Well, her kitchen was properly stocked now and she’d prepared an actual meal. As she arrived at Daryl’s lab, she recalled how hard it was to get his attention last time and made sure to knock loudly this time around. The scientist started at the sudden sound, displeased to have his sense of flow interrupted. “What is it?!” the scientist sneered as he opened the door, but upon realizing the visitor was the one who’d fed him previously, his expression softened a bit. “Oh. It’s you.” “Melody,” the farmer reminded with a nod. “I told you I would cook you something better once my kitchen was in order.” Melody smiled as she handed him a plastic container. Daryl raised a brow and took the container, noting it was quite warm to the touch. She must have made it fresh for him.

“What is it?” he asked, gripping the lid and preparing to open it. “They’re chicken and vegetable stuffed dumplings,” she chirped. “I hope you’ll like them.” “That sounds… very favorable.” Daryl informed before he opened the lid to look inside. “They look well made. I’ll accept it.” “I’m glad. So, do you have any new experiments you want to talk about?” “…” Daryl was quite surprised she’d asked him this. After her abrupt departure previously, he’d assumed she had lost interest. “I do… Would you like to listen?” “Oo, yes, please!” Melody nodded. “Well… come inside and we shall discuss it.” The scientist opened the door wider and stepped aside to allow the other to enter. “Thank you,” Melody smiled and stepped inside. “Do not touch anything,” Daryl was quick to demand. “I won’t,” Melody assured, holding her hands behind her back. “Good,” Daryl replied, feeling more at ease to see that Melody wouldn’t be touching anything. “So, what have you been working on?” Melody asked. “I’ve been studying lightning. I am hoping to detect and attract lightning strikes whilst storing and utilizing the energy it generates,” he informed as he grabbed a fork and sat down at his little dining table. “This smells quite good.” Melody grinned. “I hope it tastes as good as it smells to you. I liked them, but I don’t know your preferences.” Daryl said nothing, instead cutting off a piece of dumpling with his fork. Placing it in his mouth, he let out a pleased hum. “Tastes as good as it smells, huh?” Melody asked with the slightest of smirks. “It does. It seems you are a competent cook.” “Thanks… If you’d rather eat first, I can come back later?” “No,” the scientist responded as he took another bite. “I can eat and discuss my work at the same time.” “Fair enough,” Melody replied with a shrug. It seemed he did indeed enjoy having someone to listen to him. Daryl was quick to begin his scientific rambling, taking bites of his meal and occasionally speaking with his mouth full. Even with his talking in between, it did not take him long to finish his meal. ‘He must really have liked it,’ Melody thought to herself as Daryl continued to discuss his findings. While Melody usually listened quietly, upon his discussion of storm clouds, she decided to chime in. “Those are… Cumulonimbus clouds, right?” Daryl blinked, a bit surprised, and nodded. “Yes. How did you know?” “Oh,” Melody chuckled weakly. “It’s kind of a dumb story…” “Learning is never dumb,” Daryl assured.

“Well…” Melody paused, wondering if she should really tell this story. “Back when I was a kid, like a little kid, I used to think those big cooling towers were cloud factories. You know, since they billowed those big big puffs of white water vapor into the sky. Anyway, I asked my dad how those cloud factories could fill the entire sky when there weren’t very many of them. It wasn’t long after that Dad took me to the library and checked out a book on clouds for me to read… I loved that book and made Dad check it out again over and over… So I kind of have that information embedded in the back of my head.” Daryl, despite himself, had begun to chuckle. “Cloud factories?” “Hey,” Melody huffed, “I said I was just a little kid at the time!” Unable to help himself. Daryl couldn’t stop chuckling. He hadn’t intended to do so and there was no malice behind it, but he was genuinely amused. Melody had since gone a bit red in the face, feeling both embarrassed and a little frustrated. “And I suppose you’ve always been smart?” she asked as she folded her arms across her chest. “I can’t say I was,” Daryl admitted. “I did learn quickly for my age range from the beginning, but I did hit a plateau of sorts in high school. The… stresses of the environment inhibited my ability to learn as quickly.” “Oog, high school,” Melody rubbed her temple. “You mean hell on earth?” “I take it you weren’t fond of it either.” “Not one bit,” she sighed. “Autism and high school was simply not a good combination.” “What do you mean?” Daryl asked, a bit confused. “I’m autistic, so socialization has never been my strong suit. Students bullied me, teachers didn’t understand me, and so many people in one place was just overwhelming for me.” “Oh… That is not unlike my own experiences.” Daryl frowned. “I know of autism, but I’ve never particularly studied it and I haven’t met another person with the condition before.” “Are you sure?” Melody asked. Daryl looked at her with a raised brow. “I mean… It’s not always obvious when someone has autism. They don’t always announce it and it can go undiagnosed quite often, especially with girls. Also, some people are good at masking their symptoms just to get by in an unaccepting world.” “I see.” “Hey,” Melody began tentatively, “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but I think you show symptoms of autism yourself.” Though he had been told not to, Daryl found himself somewhat offended. He remembered the uproar his mother once had at the notion when an old teacher had suggested it and didn’t want to be part of something so apparently negative.

“What do you mean?” he asked with a slight sneer. While Melody did wilt at his expression, she continued. “Well, for one thing, when you talk about your experiments and theories, you become so excited and chatty. You go into a great deal of detail about every aspect and you just remind me of me when someone asks about one of my special interests. You also seem to speak a little differently than most. You seem quite blunt and straight to the point when you talk. There is no beating around the bush or sugar coating for you.” “Of course I get to the point,” Daryl scoffed. “What is the point of prolonging my statements with unnecessary filler?” “I know!” Melody exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. “It’s so dumb that people expect you to draw out what you say all the time! We’re talking, not writing poetry! Get to the point!” Daryl simply stared for a moment, taken aback to see another person relate to him in such a way. “...You said you yourself have autism?” he asked. “Yes,” she nodded. “I was diagnosed pretty early on.” “And I share traits with you?” he continued. “You do,” she smiled softly. Daryl slowly nodded to himself. “I may have to investigate this farther.” “I’d actually encourage that,” Melody chirped. “I have some books about autism if you’d like to borrow them. I’ve already read them multiple times, so you can keep them as long as you need. Even if you don’t have autism yourself, you might be able to relate to our experiences and, if not, it’s just nice to learn new things. I bet someone like you can really appreciate that.” “I do,” the scientist agreed. “Do you recommend I read the books in any particular order?” “I think you can read them in any order, but I think covering the very basics first would be the wisest choice,” she nodded. “Oh,” Melody continued, “Thanks for actually taking this into consideration.. There are people who act like autism is the worst condition someone can be afflicted with and that it is the worst of insults.” Daryl averted his gaze, having felt similarly moments before, but kept this thought to himself. “If you have autism, it surely can not be bad warranted to use as an insult.” “Oh, gosh,” Melody began to lightly blush. “Plenty of people think I’m no good.” “They sound very illogical. You have only proven to be pleasant company for me thus far.”

“Aww, thank you,” she looked away sheepishly, going a deeper red. “I enjoy being around you too.” The scientist seemed to freeze. “...What?” “I-I just meant I enjoy your company. You’re fascinating to listen to and you’ve been nice enough to talk to me.” “Oh,” Daryl pushed his glasses upwards into his face. “That is-” He paused upon realizing he could not think of a thing to say. How strange for him… “Are you alright?” Melody broke the silence. “I’m fine,” Daryl responded swiftly, pushing his glasses up once more. “Just making sure,” the farmer explained. “You seemed a little flustered and I was worried I’d embarrassed you.” The scientist bristled at this comment, going red in the face as he glared daggers at the woman. “I am a logical man. I do not fluster.” He was… clearly flustered… but Melody thought it best not to confront him on it. “Of course not.” Wanting to alleviate the tension in the air, she thought on a subject change. “Do you have a favorite food?” As soon as the words left her mouth, Melody slapped herself on the forehead. ‘What a generic thing to ask,’ she thought to herself. Daryl, meanwhile, thought nothing of her question and answered her simply. “Yes. I have a fondness for fish. I enjoy it in many dishes, but have a particular fondness for sushi and tempura.” “Oh, those sound goooood.” Melody grinned. “Fish is such a good protein to work with! I like it too. I try to eat pretty healthy, but I do have a soft spot for sweets.” “I enjoy dark chocolate on occasion. Sometimes coating fruit.” “I prefer milk and white chocolate myself because they’re so much sweeter. It’s good you like dark chocolate though. It’s better for you. High in antioxidants and all that.”

“Precisely,” Daryl nodded. “Though I do like less healthy sweets as well.” “Like what?” Melody asked. “Baked goods and hard candies. Hard candy is particularly preferable as they last longer and therefor reduce the amount of sugar you ingest and price paid.” “What’s your favorite candy flavor?” “I prefer grape, but cherry is a close second.” “I love blue raspberry, but green apple is good too.” Melody paused. “I like green apples in general… Most apples, really. I actually have a few saplings on the farm.” “They should grow quickly,” Daryl informed. “There is something about Forgotten Valley that allows crops to grow quite rapidly when compared to other areas.” “Takakura told me about that. I wonder why that is.” “It is rumored there are magical creatures in the valley, but I am certain there is a scientific explanation behind it.” “Haaaa… Yeah. It’s definitely scientific,” Melody replied, neglecting to mention she’d actually met the Nature Sprites of Forgotten Valley. “Most things are,” Daryl added. “That’s why science is such an important subject.” Melody simply nodded before a long silence befell them. “...I’m not sure where to go with this conversation,” she remarked, finally breaking the silence. “I don’t either,” Daryl admitted. “Maybe we should call it a day here.” Melody suggested with a nervous chuckle. “See you again another time?” “I would not mind that.” Melody offered one last smile before making her way to the door. “Bye, Daryl! Thanks for spending time with me today!” The scientist simply nodded in goodbye, wondering why he’d found her company so pleasant today. Curious.

#harvest moon #story of seasons #a wonderful life #daryl #harvest moon daryl #story of seasons daryl #a wonderful life daryl #fan fiction

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tallmantall · 1 year ago

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James Donaldson on Mental Health - 4 suicides in 2 days: Disturbing reality of mental health struggles among first responders

By Gina Silva Suicides reported in LA County Sheriff's Department LASD was hit with the shocking news that members of the department have taken their own lives. If you or someone you know needs support now, call or text 988 or chat 988lifeline.org. If you or someone you know needs support now, call or text 988 or chat at 988lifeline.org. LOS ANGELES COUNTY, Calif. - Four suicides in a span of just two days have sent shockwaves throughout the Los Angeles County law enforcement community and the families affected. These suicides involved former and current employees of the Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department, shedding light on the pressing issue of mental health within the first responder community. For Laura Linder, the founder of the nonprofit organization Exclusively First Responders, this grim reality hit close to home when her son-in-law, Kyle Sword, a deputy with the LA County Sheriff's Department, suddenly expressed a desire to end his life. #James Donaldson notes:Welcome to the “next chapter” of my life… being a voice and an advocate for #mentalhealthawarenessandsuicideprevention, especially pertaining to our younger generation of students and student-athletes.Getting men to speak up and reach out for help and assistance is one of my passions. Us men need to not suffer in silence or drown our sorrows in alcohol, hang out at bars and strip joints, or get involved with drug use.Having gone through a recent bout of #depression and #suicidalthoughts myself, I realize now, that I can make a huge difference in the lives of so many by sharing my story, and by sharing various resources I come across as I work in this space. #http://bit.ly/JamesMentalHealthArticleFind out more about the work I do on my 501c3 non-profit foundationwebsite www.yourgiftoflife.org Order your copy of James Donaldson's latest book,#CelebratingYourGiftofLife: From The Verge of Suicide to a Life of Purpose and Joy Link for 40 Habits Signupbit.ly/40HabitsofMentalHealth www.celebratingyourgiftoflife.com Cops fear losing jobs over talking about mental health struggles FOX 11's Gina Silva reports some law enforcement officers fear possibly losing their jobs if they were to come forward with their mental health struggles. "These families probably had no idea because we didn't see it coming with Kyle... just all of a sudden one day... what do you mean he wants to kill himself," Linder expressed, highlighting the often-hidden struggles faced by first responders. Laura Linder has been a tireless advocate for the mental health and well-being of first responders. Her experience with Kyle Sword's situation opened her eyes to the harsh reality within law enforcement. "They talk about that whole brotherhood, but when there's one weak link, they push it out, they turn their backs, they're just gone," she said. Kyle Sword's wife, Michaela Sword, shared her experience during her husband's crisis. "He told me that he was ready to die. I didn't know any resources, and as a wife, I feel like that should be very known to family members so when you see the loved one is spiraling, you know who to reach out to," Michaela said. Michaela was faced with the dilemma of trying to find help for her husband while also fearing the potential consequences for his career and their family. Tragically, seeking help proved to be a challenge for Kyle Sword. Instead of support, he faced isolation within the department, ultimately leading to his departure. This lack of assistance for struggling first responders is not an isolated case. Retired Santa Monica Police officer Cristina Coria, who has faced her own share of trauma during her career. "There are so many officers I know that have talked about committing suicide that I never thought in a million years would think about it or talk about it," she said. The struggles faced by first responders are multifaceted and include trauma on the job, a lack of public support, family and financial troubles, job-related injuries, feelings of abandonment after injuries, insufficient financial compensation, and a lack of support from superiors. Additionally, issues like forced medical retirement and the resulting loss of identity after retirement weigh heavily on the minds of first responders. Laura Linder emphasized the daily challenges faced by these dedicated individuals, saying, "What they see on a daily basis, we cannot even imagine, and we can't unsee what they see." Cristina Coria echoed the sentiment, expressing her sadness that these officers didn't receive the help they needed and deserved. The suicides within the LA County Sheriff's Department serve as a stark reminder of the urgent need to address the mental health and well-being of first responders. Linder, Exclusively First Responders, and advocates like them are working tirelessly to ensure that no first responder has to face these challenges alone. It is essential to provide the support and resources necessary to protect those who dedicate their lives to protecting the community. Here are some helpful links: - https://exclusivelyfirstresponders.org/about-us/ - https://guardiansscv.org - http://www.drpo.org - https://ptsd911movie.com The LA County Sheriff’s Department issued the following statement: The Sheriff’s Department is beyond saddened to learn of the deaths involving four LASD employees, one retired and three current members of the department. The Sheriff’s Homicide Bureau is investigating all four deaths. On Monday, November 6th at approximately 10:30 a.m. Homicide Bureau responded to a death in Valencia. Later in the afternoon detectives responded to a death at 12:53 p.m. in Lancaster and later in the evening at 5:40 p.m. in Stevensen Ranch. On Tuesday, November 7th at approximately 7:30 a.m. homicide detectives responded to another death of a current employee to a local hospital in the city of Pomona. Out of respect for their grieving families, we will not be disclosing the names of the employees at this time. Homicide detectives and the County of Los Angeles Medical Examiner will continue to investigate each incident independently. Our deepest sympathies and thoughts are with the families and friends of each of these individuals. The department Psychological Services Bureau (PSB) and the Injury and Health Support Unit (IHSU) continues to comfort and provide resources to the families during this tragic time. The department offers free, confidential counseling through our Psychological Services Bureau who are available 24/7 to provide help and guidance to personnel and their families during challenging times. Additionally, the department has a Peer Support Program that members can use for additional assistance. "Our LASD family has experienced a significant amount of loss and tragedies this year," said Sheriff Robert Luna. "We are stunned to learn of these deaths, and it has sent shockwaves of emotions throughout the department as we try and cope with the loss of not just one, but four beloved active and retired members of our department family. During trying times like these it’s important for personnel regardless of rank or position to check on the well-being of other colleagues and friends. I have the deepest concern for our employee’s well-being, and we are urgently exploring avenues to reduce work stress factors to support our employees work and personal lives." Read the full article

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sinceileftyoublog · 1 year ago

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Riot Fest 2023 Preview: 4 Reasons to Come Early, 1 to Stay Late

Just Mustard; Photo by Olof Grind

BY JORDAN MAINZER

Is it me, or is this the biggest Riot Fest yet? The independently run festival has managed to book bands that can fill arenas (Foo Fighters, The Cure), in-demand anniversary full album plays (Transatlanticism, Give Up, Last Splash), and previous headliners as sub-headliners (Queens of the Stone Age). As always, though, there are just as many highlights in the fine print as on the first row. Here are our top 5 picks: 4 reasons to show up before sunset, 1 to stay till the very end.

FRIDAY

Quasi; Photo by John Clark

Quasi, 1:25 PM, Roots Stage

A couple years ago, if you had asked me what band I thought would have a post-pandemic reunion, Quasi would have been at the bottom of my list. The duo of Sam Coomes and ex-Sleater-Kinney drummer Janet Weiss hadn't released a full-length since 2013, and in 2019, a car crashed into Weiss's car, which broke both of her legs and collarbone. As it turns out, during her recovery and COVID lockdown, Weiss, along with Coomes, used free time to bang out new songs in Quasi's practice space. The result is their Sub Pop debut and first album in 10 years, the awesomely titled Breaking the Balls of History, released earlier this year. The album is certainly of a time and place, riddled with references to pandemic-era isolation and the anti-science Neanderthals that have dominated discourse on the political right. But what stands out more is how revitalized these two sound to play music together, and Weiss in general. If her departure from Sleater-Kinney came after an album that minimized her role as a drummer, her meaty fills absolutely dominate "Last Long Laugh", "Queen of Ears", "Riots & Jokes", and "Nowheresville". In tandem with Coomes' fuzzed-out guitar and warped keyboards, Weiss' timekeeping creates an almost retrofuturist aesthetic, 60's pop harmonies rubbing elbows with distorted keys and drums on tracks like "Shitty Is Pretty". And The one I can't wait to hear most at the festival is "Doomscrollers", a surefire anthem for those crumbling under the weight of the world--or their phones--and even "everyone else just tryna get by / To stay alive or at least not die."

Screaming Females

Screaming Females, 4:50 PM, Rebel Stage

Desire Pathway (Don Giovanni), the first album in 5 years from the New Jersey punk greats, is a an album inspired by and about breakup and heartbreak. Thankfully, it doesn't sound down in the dumps. In fact, it's quite the contrary, the hardest rocking Screaming Females album yet, less snot-nosed punk and more mammoth metal. As much as Marissa Paternoster likens herself to "a freight train in the desert dragging chains," her theatrical vocal performances and limber axe wielding show a musician at the top of her class. The album starts unexpectedly, with feedback-heavy synths on "Brass Bell", but not before Paternoster and drummer Jarrett Dougherty enter with power riffs and snares akin to your favorite sludge band. Even a summertime sadness rave-up like "Ornament" yields the same sneering, anthemic quality as the best Screaming Females songs, Paternoster menacingly chanting, "An ornament / Your head hangs heavy on it." So as much as she offers a sense of humility on "Let Me Into Your Heart" and "Titan", don't get in her way on Friday.

Foo Fighters, 8:00 PM, Riot Stage

You know the story by now. In a short amount of time, Dave Grohl experienced two devastating losses: the passing of his mother Virginia and the tragic, sudden death of Foo Fighters' longtime drummer, Taylor Hawkins. Such periods of shock often cause massive shifts in life perspective, and perhaps, as a silver lining, it caused him to rethink things musically. Songs on recent Foo Fighters albums seemingly followed the tired formula of starting out quiet and melodic and building into an instrumental avalanche and full-throated screams. But Here We Are (Roswell/RCA), on which Grohl plays all the drums, instead recalls earlier Foo Fighters albums with confident and consistent paces and even explores new territory for the Rock and Roll Hall of Famers. It starts immediately raw and in shock on "Rescued", Grohl describing learning about Hawkins' death in clear terms: "It came in a flash / It came out of nowhere." Elsewhere, the wah wah guitars of an umptempo jam like "Under You" recall the talk box thrills of an older tune like "Generator", and the strutting drum and guitar interplay of "Nothing At All" ascends with a clatter like the band's early Aughts records.

As But Here We Are goes on, the band opts for the unexpected. On the self-reflexive "Show Me How", Grohl and his daughter Violet duet over shoegaze electric guitars and dream pop strumming, singing about his mom's passing, realizing the same thing will one day happen for Violet. The penultimate "The Teacher" is like a ten-minute question, Grohl wondering how to deal with grief and anxious about life and death, wincing, "Who's at the door now?" over scraped guitars and strings. The song slows down and rebuilds gradually with a chugging drum beat and chiming, dreamy guitars, ending with static. That sets up "Rest", on which Grohl repeats, "You can rest now." Such a statement seems like it's as much a mantra for himself as it is a directive to Hawkins and his mother. "Life is just a game of luck," he declares, "All this time escaping us, until our time is through." After the biggest explosion of guitar distortion on a major label radio rock record since "Hurt", Grohl ends the song, "In the warm Virginia sun, there I will meet you." That it's the name of the state in which he grew up and of his mother is not a coincidence, as he's using the memory of his mom, Hawkins--heck, even Kurt Cobain--for comfort.

With new drummer Josh Freese in tow, stay late and catch Foo Fighters performing songs from their best album since The Colour and the Shape.

SATURDAY

100 Gecs

100 Gecs, 7:00 PM, Radical Stage

When 100 Gecs released "mememe", the first single from what would be their long-awaited second album 10,000 Gecs (Dog Show/Atlantic), the first thing you noticed was that Laura Les' vocals were notably less pitch-shifted. A trans woman who had experienced voice dysphoria, Les was now taking voice lessons and deciding to reveal her voice unaffected. That, and her experience with gender transition surgeries and HRT treatments, informs some lines on songs on 10,000 Gecs. "I did science on my face," she sings on "Dumbest Girl Alive". "Everybody shuts the fuck up when I'm passing / You can see me on the fuckin' news, and I'm laughing," she sings presciently on "The Most Wanted Person in the United States", as a few days later, the notoriously anti-LGBTQ+ Fox News would go on to play 100 gecs on air due to anchor Greg Gutfield's fandom. This is the world in which 100 gecs thrive, appealing to all by feeling free to be themselves, refreshingly sans irony no matter how bonkers their juxtapositions. Ribbits nestle between guitar strums and harmonies on the ska-infused "Frog On The Floor". "One Million Dollars" creates a dance jam out of TikTok TTS voice, samples from anti-weed government propaganda, and Primus-level wiry breakdowns. "Hollywood Baby" and "Billy Knows Jamie" are respective tributes to pop punk and nu metal. And Les sings about everything from snack foods to her removed tooth like long lost loves. Even if they sound anything but, 100 gecs might just be the most earnest band around.

SUNDAY

Just Mustard, 1:15 PM, Riot Stage

You don't normally associate minimalism and ambiguity with bands playing Riot Fest, those with riffs and messages that hit you over the head and hooks and feelings sky-high. I bet Irish post-punk quintet Just Mustard wins over some festivalgoers looking for respite, whether from the sun or the distant cry of pop punk. Last year, they released their second album Heart Under (Partisan), and the first on which Katie Ball took full-time lead vocals. Their deliberate tempos and masterful control of dynamics should serve as hypnotic as it is beguiling.

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