#I feel worse about Delaney

[davidcampcanp]

It’s as though I’ve ignored one while she died. And the other I almost ushered her into

[repulsiveliquidation]

Darlin’ I’d Wait For You.

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Very loosely based on the song j’s lullaby (darlin’ i’d wait for you) by Delaney Bailey and this poem!

It’s the night of your wedding, you’re dancing in the middle of the room with your friends. Lucy and Ona have you between them, the country song that half the guests didn’t understand still managed to give them a little pep in their step. Alexia sips on her drink, sitting around with her Barça teammates as they all watch the girls on the dance floor lose their inhibitions with the free-flow alcohol the longer the night goes on.

Frido taps her on her shoulder, seeing the lovestruck look on the Spanish captain’s face as she watches you let loose on the dancefloor.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” the Swede starts, the rest of the girls listening in, “how did you know she was your person?”

Alexia looks up at Frido and takes a long swig of her gin. She slams the glass down on the table, looking back at you. You’re being spun around by Mapi, a huge grin on your face when you catch Alexia’s eye. You bite your lip and grin at her, giving her a little wave. She gives you one back, leaning back into her chair. She takes a deep breath, looking at the girls.

“When I did my ACL, there was no one else who could get me out of bed.”

“Alexia, for fuck sake, if I come up there and see you still in bed, I’ll do your other ACL myself!”

You walk up the stairs, steam about to erupt from your ears when you enter the room and see Alexia sitting up in bed with her head in her hands. All your anger dissipates and you rush to her, kneeling in front of her holding her wrists.

“What’s wrong, Ale?” you ask softly, thumbs rubbing the back of her hands.

“I can’t do it,” she says quietly, eyes filling with hot tears.

“What can’t you do, darling?”

“This, I can’t do this. This isn’t me,” she cries, bottom lip wobbling as she leans into you. You cradle her head as she rests her forehead on your shoulder and sobs.

“You’re right baby, this isn’t you. This isn’t my Alexia. My Alexia is strong and stubborn. My Alexia refuses to quit. She fights, no matter what it takes,” you tell her sternly, wiping away her tears as your hands cradle her face.  

“I just want to be the old me,” she begs, grabbing the front of your shirt. You stand and hold her head to your stomach, rubbing the back of her neck.

“But, what if the new you comes back stronger than ever? What if the new you is better than the old you?”

“Will you still love me?” she asks wearily, watery eyes looking hopefully up at you.

“I will always love you, Alexia, nothing can ever change that.” “When there were setbacks, she was the only one who could get me to keep trying.”

“It feels funny, amor,” Alexia whispered to you on the pitch, hobbling over to the side of the pitch for a quick swig of water. You follow her and rub her back, taking a drink of water too.

“What does bebita?”

“My knee,” she says, pointing to her ACL one. You look up at her and bite your bottom lip, a habit you had when you were concerned.

“Do you want to come off, I think we can cover for you till someone’s warm.”

“Bebé, what if it’s happened again?” she starts, dropping her bottle and head spiraling to all the worse possibilities.

You take her hands and grip them tight, bringing her out of her thoughts. She looks scared, eyes and expression unreadable to everyone except you.

“It’s probably nothing, but I don’t want you taking risks. Sit out, we’ll be fine,” you give her a quick peck on the cheek, turning to see Jonatan already having someone to replace Alexia. She walks off slowly, nodding at you when you give her a thumbs up.  “When my start was delayed, she was the only one who would listen.”

“How did they not find anything?!” Alexia yells at you, throwing her book towards the window.

“Ale, it was exploratory. It’s good!” you rationalize with her, trying to calm her down.

“There’s supposed to be nothing, then why was there discomfort?” she screams, tears filling her eyes. Your heart breaks in two, her head hitting her pillow as she begins to break down. She had been holding it in for weeks since that day when she benched herself.

She refused to talk to you, engage with you, and look you in the eye. Your mind thought the worst until you heard her sobbing in the bathroom at 3 in the morning the night before she was due to be at the hospital.

“Ale?” you called, walking into the bathroom and finding her slumped in the shower. You quietly sit beside her, taking her hand away from her face. She gasps, looking at you with red eyes. You see fear in your girlfriends eyes, a look that she rarely had. You didn’t like it one bit.

“What’s bothering you, my love?”

“I’m scared again, bebé,” she admits simply, voice shaky.

“Why’s that, my love?”

“What if something is wrong?”

“Does it feel like when you did it?” you ask, rubbing the back of her hand in soothing circles.

She shakes her head, sniffling softly.

“Does it hurt like when you did it?”

“No.”

“It’s just not feeling like your knee?”

“Sí,” she says, leaning her head on your shoulder.

“Well, they had to reconstruct the ligament amor, it’s not your knee. You’ve got to give it a bit more time.”

“But, the fans, they want me out there playing I-”

“They also don’t want you playing if you’re not 100%, the Alexia they want is the one scoring magnificent goals, not standing by the sidelines scared of hurting her knee again. Take your time and give them the new and improved Alexia when you’re ready.”

“They’ll wait?”

“No matter how long it takes, darling.”  

“When I was ready to get out there, she held me like a child taking her first bike ride without training wheels. Promising to never let go.”

You promised to be by her side the entire process of recovering again. You took her to PT, made her eat well, and comforted her when things didn’t go to plan. What she didn’t tell you was that she was cleared for training and games again, Jonatan promised to put her back on the bench to be subbed in for a bit later in the game this weekend.

“I’m on the sheet,” Alexia whispered, looking at the team bulletin. “I’m on the sheet!” she yelled, jumping for joy as the rest of the team celebrated with her. She hugged Mapi, then Ingrid, high-fiving the rest of the girls. You waited patiently in your cubby for her, back turned as you ruffled in your bag.

Alexia got down on one knee (the ACL one of course), and the ring held out for you to see. The whole room was dead silent, and you turned to see what made the normally rowdy bunch all quiet.

“You better not be up to something, you guys are never quie-”

You look down and see Alexia grinning at you, tapping her knee.

“Ale, your leg! You’re not supposed to do that!” you say, completely ignoring the beautiful diamond ring in her hands. You begin to get her to stand when she slaps your hand away and Patri yells “Look at her hand, idiota!”

After showing her the middle finger, you look down at Alexia’s hands and see the open velvet box.

“There is no one else I’d want to have by my side the rest of my life, will you marry me?”

“Yes, yes, yes!”

She looks at Frido, smiling when she hears you yelling at the DJ to play your favorite. She leans forward, tears in her eyes.

“I knew because when I want to run away, she is who I’m running toward.”

Alexia looks at you again, you’re standing on a table dancing to the song the DJ just put on. She leaves the girls and walks towards you, helping you down.  

“Amor,” she says, pulling you into her arms.

“Sí, Mi esposa?” you grin, wrapping your arms around her neck.

“Te amo,” Alexia whispers, forehead pressed to yours as the dancefloor clears for the two of you.

“Yo también te quiero,” you say to her, lips leaning forward to press a deep kiss on her lips. She kisses back as the room erupts in cheers, their favorite couple displaying what true love looks like.

//

I’m in a bad place with my head right now so I wrote this out hoping it helps :) I don’t know if it makes any sense since I haven’t proofread but oh well.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Whisked Away 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Part of the Sweet and Spicy AU

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You get a job at a bakery but your new boss only adds to your work

Character: chubby!baker!Thor

Please comment and reblog if it’s not too much. I always love getting to chat about these stories and hearing all your ideas! You all are wonderful and loved.

Delaney wishes you good luck as you go. Your heart is fluttery with nerves. It’s been a while since you actually had an interview. These days, most send you a link where you record yourself answering generalised questions. You never do well at those. In fact, you’d only ever had one job.  

You worked at a cafe in high school and after you went and got your culinary schooling done, you were promoted. It held you through the first few years of your twenties until Delaney got sick and you had to move to the city for her treatment. Your squirreled away savings got you the apartment and her stipend helped, but you’re running dry on credit. 

You need this. Desperately. But you can’t show that if you want it. You have to play it cool. Be a professional. 

You catch a streetcar down to the main row and check your phone. You’re well ahead of time. Good. You’ve never been to this particular place. You don’t go out much if it isn’t to the grocery store or the pharmacy. Delaney stopped wanting to go outside a while back. You try to encourage her but you can tell it only makes her feel worse. 

You follow the map directions on the app and stop before the cafe windows. They’re slightly tinted with curling golden calligraphy painted across them; Golden Crust. The facade is brown and yellow brick and there are flower boxes just below the windows. Behind the glass, loaves of bread lines a shelf, on display to tempt passerbys. 

The door is wide and thick and painted red. You push inside and pause to look around. The long counter is made of dark wood with clear glass cases on top containing dozens of colourful and sugary desserts. Behind the counter, the walls are lined with shelves; some ingredients, some with unfolded boxes, and more bread and packaged biscuits to go. It’s all finely organized. 

Lights hang above with brass shades, lending a low hue to the shop. Several customers wait in queue as two employees work tills at opposite ends of the counter. You don’t know whether you should join the wait or go ahead and let them know that you’re there to see Thor for an interview. That was his name, right? 

You look at your phone again. You have time. You wouldn’t want to be rude. You adjust your bag and stand at the end of the line. The women ahead of you marvel at the pristine mini white chocolate cakes with dark candied cherries on top as another whispers about cheesecake being devilish. Your own eyes wander gluttonously to the assortment. 

You peel away your gaze and look down at yourself. You put together the best you could; a striped blouse, navy blue on white, and a pair of straight-legged pants. They’re a bit outdated but professional at a glance. You hope no one notices the scuff on your right toe. 

You get to the front of the line and step up. The young girl behind the till asks what you’d like. You give an apologetic smile, “um, actually, I’ve got an interview.” 

“Ah, yes, another one for Thor,” she chimes, “well, you just come with me.” 

She’s young. Still a teenager. Her and the other cashier look to be barely graduated if that. 

She walks toward the end of the counter and she beckons you over, “I’m Thrud,” she pulls back the short little door for you to step through, “that’s Nari,” she gestures to the dark-haired worker at the other till. He’s too busy taking orders to notice. 

You introduce yourself as she takes you around to a doorway, “I think he’s just doing these in the kitchen. Last one ended early so...” she talks brightly as she bounds ahead of you like a happy puppy, “dad?” She calls as she enters the large kitchen. “Dad? I’ve got the next appointment.” 

Your anxiety spikes. You’re not the first or the last. The competition deflates your hopes even further. 

“Eh?” A deep grunt comes as head pops up from the other side of the large marble island. The man is so large his head hits one of the pans dangling from the ceiling rack. He rubs his brow and hisses, “sorry, I was just looking for my pen.” 

Thrud laughs as she crosses her arms. You notice the golden pen tucked behind his ear. She raises a hand, keeping her other arm folded, as she taps her temple. His brows arch and he feels around his wave locks and fishes out the pen. 

“Right,” he gives a sheepish look and wiggles it in triumph. 

“Anyhoo,” Thrud trills, “this is her.” 

“Thank you, Thrud,” he drones back. 

“Mhmm,” she turns and smiles at you again before she goes. 

“Uh,” you hesitate, unsure how to begin, “er,” you introduce yourself, once more “I have a resume on hand--” 

“No need,” he waves you off, “come, I try to keep these things straight to the point.” 

You near him and rest your hand on your bag, chewing your lip. 

“Wash your hands,” he directs you towards the sink, “you may put your things there.” He points to the empty counter on the other side of the deep metal sink. You put your bag there and scour your hands deliberately, taking your time as you scrub nails, knuckles, palms, every bit. You dry off on the towel he offers as you face him. 

“Here,” he gives you and apron, “would want you to make a mess. 

You tie on the apron as he turns and grabs a tray. There are half a dozen cookies on the sheet, some empty piping bags, nozzles, a bowl of icing and small tubes of food dye. You look between him and the cookies. 

“You may choose the design. You will decorate and I will ask questions, does that work for you?” 

“Um, sure,” you answer. It’s unexpected. “All six?” 

“All six,” he confirms and crosses his arms, making himself even broader. He is not only tall, but wide, and his apron does little to conceal his indulgence in sweets that gathers around his middle. 

“Okay,” you accept the challenge meekly. 

You step up to the marble island and take a moment. You twiddle your fingers nervously as you think. You don’t know what to do. You don’t want to go to simple. 

“Take your time, I’ll ask some questions and you can begin whenever you’re ready,” he assures, “so, you’re availability, it is flexibly? Our open ours are eight to six, but you are available on weekends?” 

“Yes,” you say as you set an idea in your head and read for the icing. You stir it with the wooden spoon, testing its consistency. “I have open availability most days.” 

“Most days?” He echoes. 

“Um, yes, I may have an appointment now and again.” 

“Oh, appointment?” 

“For my sister,” you explain, “but it wouldn’t get in the way, I'm sure.” 

You cringe. You’re already making yourself feel bad. 

“And so, you’ve had one previous role, what was included in that?” he asks. 

Only one... that can’t be good on paper. 

“I worked at a cafe. I was a barista for the first two years, then I was promoted to baker, and ended as assistant manager at the branch,” you explain as you fill one of the piping pages and fit the appropriate tip, “but I completed by culinary diploma while I was there.” 

“And after? What did you do? I see you’ve been out of work.” 

You’re quite as you lean over the cookies and start on the first one. Your idea is simple in premise but not in execution. Delaney loves to do cross-stitches, so that’s what you’ll do. First, the white grid and the lacing along the edges, then you’ll fill in the squares with all different colours to make the illusion of stitches. 

“I’ve been a caretaker to my sister,” you say quietly, “we only just moved here last year so I haven’t found much.” 

“And you would be able to work fulltime?” He asks. 

“Yes, she’s... she’s doing better now. I can do it,” you assure him as you keep your eyes on your precise lines. 

He’s quiet. You’re sweating. You just concentrate on the work. Maybe your answers aren’t the best but you hope your work is. You finish the crosshatching and look up. You find him watching your hands intently. As you pause, his blue eyes meet yours. He gives a smile. 

“Ha,” he scoffs, “my hands are too big.” He shows his thick fingers, “I can’t quiet get my lines that tight.” 

You nod and bow your head again. You’re not even done the first cookie. You have six to prove yourself. Six cookies to seal your fate. 

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Paint It Black: Final Part

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Warnings: canon angst and violence, extra angst

Summary: A case takes you, Sam, and Dean right into a church where Dean confesses his fears about you. You're the love of his life and trapped inside his head while he waits for your soul to purify. He didn't think things could get worse but can they or did Dean find the one thing that can give him hope?

Season Ten Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. I love seeing any and all comments <3

x

Dean steps into the confessional and knocks on the small window that separates his booth from Father Delaney's booth.

"Yes?"

"I'm here to clean house. I need to get some things off my chest."

"Alright. When you're ready."

"Where do I begin?" Dean scoffs.

"'Bless me, Father, for I have sinned', is usual."

"Right. That. Listen, I've been in love with the same woman since I was nineteen. I married her nearly three years ago and we have three children together. One is adopted, and I wasn't so keen on having him at first but now I love that kid. My wife used to be so caring and loving. She'd do anything to protect the ones she loves. Now... all I see is a monster. Everything she stands for is gone, and I don't know how to get her back. I thought she'd always be my best friend, someone I could always turn to. 

"Lately, it seems like she keeps slipping from my grasp with each and every minute that goes by. She's not a good person anymore, Father. She constantly threatens to cheat on me, but I don't think she ever did it. I honestly don't know. She knows what to say to hurt me. She knows what to do to hurt me. She doesn't care.

"It's kind of my fault, really. I'm the one that let her... She did something for me so I wouldn't be alone and I shouldn't have let her take it. It turned her into this monster, and I don't know if I'll ever get her back. What if I said I... If I didn't want to die, that I wasn't ready?"

"Are you expecting to?"

"Always," Dean chuckles. "The life I live and the work I do.... I pretty much just figured that was all there was to me, you know? Tear around, jam the key in the ignition, and haul ass until I ran out of gas. I guess I just thought sooner or later, I'd go out the same way that I live--pedal to the metal, and that would be it."

"But now?" Father Delaney asks and looks at Dean.

"Now, um, recent events, make me think I might be closer to that than I really thought. I don't know. I mean there's things, there's people, and feelings that I want to experience differently than I have before, or maybe even for the first time."

"Is your wife holding you back from doing that?"

"Had you asked me last year, I would have said no. Now, I'm not so sure. I'm just starting to think that maybe there's more to it all than I thought."

"Learning there's more to the universe than your tiny world can be a frightening discovery. Do you truly believe in God, Agent? Because that can be a comfort."

"I believe there is a God, but I'm not sure he still believes in us. Thanks for listening."

Dean leaves the confessional and approaches Sam who stands. He's been waiting patiently in one of the pews.

"My turn," you smirk.

"You want to confess?"

"I've sinned a lot. I think it's time I get some of it off my chest, don't you?"

You go into the confessional booth before Sam and Dean can stop you. Father Delaney looks at you and nods once.

"Welcome, my dear. Whenever you're ready."

"Yeah, my husband just came out of this booth. I bet you heard some sob story that I really couldn't care less about, but I figure it's only right you hear my side of the story. I used to care about things, things that really don't matter now, things that are useless like husbands and children."

"If they are such a waste, then what's the point of even living?"

"Power. I have an immense amount of power, and I can do a lot with it. I see what it does to Sam and Dean when I use my power. I know it hurts them but it brings me so much joy to see them in pain. The chaos humans bring fuels the power inside of me. It's my job to feed it."

"You mean metaphorical power?"

"I mean magical power. I was cursed with this Mark from the devil but I've learned it's not a curse. It wants power so it gave me magic to fuel it. It wants me to cause pain and I am more than happy to do that. My husband and his brother don't want that to happen. They don't understand. I've been with these two my entire life, Father. If they felt what I felt, they'd want to feel like this all the time.

"Hurting people is what I do best, and all they want to do is save people. That just means I'm going to have to hurt just as many people as they save because at the end of the day, it's me or them, and I'm very good at choosing me."

You leave the confession booth without another word, and you walk over to Sam and Dean who have worried looks on their faces.

"What did you say to him?"

"The truth. Don't get all pouty on me. I gave that ghost something to freak out about."

You three hung out at the motel to pass the time until Dean got a call from the nun who he swore he wasn't hitting on. You head back to the church and meet her in the basement. Apparently, there is a female ghost that's been haunting the church.

"Sister Mathias, what is going on?" Sam asks.

"I never mentioned her to you because it didn't occur to me she was connected with the murders. Ever since I've been here I've come across restless spirits of all sorts. They're all kind of sad and harmless. Eventually, the poor things go to their final rest."

"Wait a second, you're comfortable around ghosts?"

"As a spiritual person, I've accepted many planes of existence. As I said, they've all been harmless. Isabella was my friend. We had a lot in common, including painful love lives. I wanted to protect her. She showed back up three weeks ago when stuff from her home arrived. It came from a monastery in Tivoli. Her family's treasures found their way to the church, as with many of the great houses of Europe."

"You get that she got here just before the murders started happening?"

"I finally realized that, and then I heard the three of you and it made me wonder. That's when I read her journal. It was given to her father right after her death."

Sister Mathias picks up Isabella's journal.

"Vengeful spirit, just like we thought," Dean mutters.

"Yeah, but from 16th-Century Florence. She's probably buried in Florence."

"I assume she is," Sister Mathias says. "The journal ended right after her trial." She hands the journal to Sam. "Piero's death was so horrific that she was convicted of witchcraft. They sentenced her to burn at the stake."

"I wonder if I'd be burned at the stake," you comment.

"If she was burned, her bones would have been, too."

"Something here is the tether that ties her to this place. It's probably the journal, where she wrote about her life." Sam turns to Sister Mathias. "Why don't we see if we can't find Isabella and try to slow her down? I'll burn all this stuff."

"Her journal, too? Is that necessary?"

"Yes, it. Sam, burn it. You two are with me."

You and Sister Mathias follow Dean out of the basement, leaving Sam alone to burn everything. Dean takes out his EMF reader and starts looking for Isabella while you absentmindedly pick at your fingernail.

"I don't see how she could murder these people if she was tethered to the church."

"She could possess a person inside the church, ride out, and get yanked back after the kill."

"Ghosts can be shot?"

Dean holds up his shotgun.

"This is rock salt. If we spot her, it'll slow her down."

"It'll piss her off more," you state. You walk into the main room of the church and see Father Delaney lying on the table, gutted. You smirk and walk past Dean over to Sister Mathias who has yet to see the body. "What a shame. Isabella got to Father Delaney."

"She's around here somewhere. We got to get you out of here. Come on!"

Before Dean can do anything, Sister Mathias smacks Dean in the face so hard that he goes flying across the hallway. You don't have time to bask in the joy of her kicking Dean's ass because she turns to you with the same deadly look. You grin and flash your eyes red to show her that you're not to be messed with.

"I don't think so, sister."

You blast her back with your magic but instead of a one-and-done hit, you keep your magic surrounding her and use it to pull Isabella out of Sister Mathias. With the spirit not possessing the young woman anymore, you blast her back so she's out of the way and turn to Isabella who looks more pissed than before. She runs at you with the intent to possess you but you grab her throat and slam her against the wall.

"You really aren't good at this, are you?" you laugh.

"The priest had to die. He made it his business to forgive you pigs when what you do is unforgivable."

"Sam! Burn the journal!" Dean yells loudly.

You push a glowing red hand to her chest and start to absorb her power, making her weaker by the second. She cries out in pain but you suck as much of her power as you can. By the time Sam burns the journal, your entire body is high. This high is nothing like what you've experienced before. Isabella pushes you away and you stumble backward just as she goes up in flames.

"Euphoric," you grin and lean against the wall.

The Mark craves power and you're more than happy to give power to it from any source. First, it was from Cain, then Isabella, and who knows next? You might be sucking up human souls just to feel this way again. On the way home, Dean looks at you through the rearview mirror to see you playing with wisps of red magic.

"You know, you were in that confessional for a long time." Dean gives him a weird look but Sam passes it off. "I'm just saying, I'm your brother, Dean. If you ever need to talk about anything with anybody, you have somebody right here next to you."

"Okay."

"I heard what Sister Mathias was saying about, you know, hiding pain by taking on a mission. I know that's what you're doing a little bit, and it's okay. I mean, it's fine. I get it. I've done it before, too, but I don't buy for one second that the Mark is a terminal diagnosis, so don't go making peace with that idea. There has to be a way. There will be a way, and we will find it. That's what we do. So, believe that."

Dean meets your eyes in the rearview mirror. You have a challenge in your eyes that dares him to say it. He swallows down his fear and looks at Sam.

"I told you, Sam. We're not looking for it. Drop it. I mean it." Sam doesn't have to look at you to know why he said that. To get his and your mind off the Mark, he decides to talk about something you did. "You sucked that ghost's power like it was easy."

"And?"

"You've never been able to do that before."

"Well, I've never been this person. I can do a lot of things you don't know about."

"That's why you want to go hunting? To steal power from people?"

"I got to give you credit where credit is due, Dean. You might look pretty and dumb, but I guess you got a brain floating up in there somewhere, right?"

Dean and Sam choose not to say anything else to you. They don't know what to say that will be beneficial for everyone. Instead, they sit in silence the rest of the way home. You leave the Bunker to go to the bar, Sam goes to his room to unwind, and Dean heads to the library. There has to be something in here that will tell him more about the Scarlet Witch. He finds the journal of all the Sapphire Witches but none of them mention anything about a Scarlet Witch. Dean grabs a few books that might be of help and sits at the library table, hell-bent on figuring out what it's going to take to bring you down.

You have to have a weakness, and he's going to find it.

Dean spent all night reading everything he could about the Scarlet Witch, and he didn't realize he had fallen asleep until he heard his phone beep next to him. He grows frustrated and slams the books closed. He gets up and slams his hands against his thighs angrily, and every single book on the table goes flying off it across the room. He looks down at his hands and his eyes widen in shock.

"Sammy!" he yells as loudly as he can. "Sam!!"

"What? What happened?" Sam asks as he runs into the library. "Whoa, what happened?"

"I think we have a problem."

Dean turns to his brother with blue magic pouring out of his hands.

x

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the grudge | conrad fisher

conrad fisher x female mc

summary: sometimes the person you love most can be the one who cuts you the deepest. for delaney and conrad, they haven't talked in years. not since that night. not since delaney had confessed to her best friend that she was in love with him.

word count: 3k

warning: mdni, sexual content

author's note: this is a little angsty but also cute ig

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

They say a friendship breakup feels a thousand times worse than a romantic one. Losing that person that feels like your other half, the one you could get stranded on an island with and still find something to laugh about. I suppose that it's true. Losing my best friend feels like a piece of my heart has been ripped out, thrown to the side as though it were perfectly disposable.

I hate Conrad Fisher. I hate him for making me love him. Everyday, I think about that Friday in May. That phone call, the malice in his voice. Everyday I think about it. And most of all, I hate that I made him hate me too.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

Nicole had dragged me to this party, demanding for me to get my ass out of the house. I had spent all summer pent up in my room doing online classes to get a head start before starting at Stanford this year. Plus, I didn't want to risk seeing him. Knowing what he said to me. So I had let summer pass me by, not stopping to admire the feeling of the sun gracing my skin or spending all day basking in salt water. I hadn't felt the satisfying pain of a sunburn from spending the whole day outside, despite reapplying sunscreen each hour.

I guess I figured that if I could distract myself, I wouldn't have to think about what existed outside of my room. The reality that Conrad Fisher hates me, and I hate him too. It wasn't always like that. We had grown up quite the pair. I remember days where he would spin me around the kitchen of his house next door, the sweet melodies of Billy Joel filling our souls. But something so perfect can't last forever, and it's my fault for ruining it.

With Nicole's hand in mine, we step through the cream threshold of the house. I believe that it's Gigi's and her parents are gone for the weekend. The smell of alcohol immediately fills my senses, making my stomach churn, along with the blasting house music.

When Gigi spots me, she throws her arms in the air, squealing with delight.

"Look who finally decided to join us!"

She sloppily encases me with a hug, throwing her arms around my shoulders. I smile against her, missing the feeling of being around my friends.

"I've just been busy with school Gig. You know I would never purposefully miss hanging out with you."

She pulls back, rolling her eyes playfully and making Nicole hug her next.

"Yeah, right, Stanford."

We both giggle as she pours me a beer, and I take it gratefully. Though my senses prick when I feel somebody else walk in the room. I know who it is immediately, not bothering to turn around and deal with him.

Holding my cup in my hand, I smile tightly at Gigi and Nicole.

"I'm gonna go use the bathroom. Don't have too much fun without me."

Turning on my heel, I keep my head down, beelining for the bathroom. The stairs feel a mile long as the ache in my chest begins to build, each step seeming to grow double in front of me. I finally make it to the bathroom, shutting the door quickly behind me and holding my hands on the counter for support. I squeeze my eyes shut to try to relieve some of the pain, but it's no use.

I should be over this by now, it's been two years since it happened. Somebody is knocking on the door, probably some drunk girl needing to go pee, but it all sounds muffled.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

Nerves eat at my stomach as I walk with Conrad on the beach. I don't know exactly when I fell in love with him, it's not like it happened suddenly. But recently it's been so overwhelming that my heart seems to ache every time I'm away from him, and on the verge of bursting when I'm near him.

He's talking about football right now, the camp that his dad's sending him to at the end of the summer. The end of May lingers like perfume, the final days of school transitioning to the beginning of summer. I can't seem to find it in me to pay attention to what he's saying, knowing that what I'm about to do will change our friendship forever. For however terrified of losing him I am, I am equally as sure that I need to tell him.

"Conrad." I say softly, my voice shaky.

He doesn't hear me, continuing to talk about dreading the drills and the shallowness of the team. I shake my head, urging myself for confidence.

"Conrad." I say, slightly louder.

This time he pauses, his head turning toward mine as I halt in the sand. My sandals feel heavy in my hand, the midday sun blazing onto my shoulders. Conrad is standing in front of me now, with his hair blowing into the coastal wind.

"What's up?" His brows are furrowed, as if confused by my demeanor.

I think my heart might actually beat out of my chest.

"I-" I start, "I've known you for like my whole life and you're my best friend."

He nods reluctantly, eyes holding mine.

"And you're mine. What's going on?"

I close my eyes, taking a deep breath in through my nose.

"I think I love you, Conrad."

When he doesn't say anything for a moment, I open my eyes. But he's not standing in front of me anymore. Conrad Fisher is walking away from me, about twenty feet up the beach. I told Conrad I loved him, and he walked away. My brain tells me to follow him, to take it back, to have never risked losing my best friend at all. But he's walking away, and my feet seem to be sinking into the sand, where I will stay until the tide washes me away.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

The door of the bathroom creaks open, forcing my eyes to shoot to the intruder.

"Sorry, I was knocking but you weren't answering and I wasn't sure if you were okay-"

"Leave, Conrad."

I look at my reflection in the mirror, the yellowed light tanning my skin while I avoid connecting my gaze with him. Conrad doesn't leave. I need him to leave. Instead, he closes the door, enclosing us in the guest bathroom.

"Delaney-"

I whip around to face him, anger building in my core at his concerned tone.

"No! You don't get to say my name like that, Conrad. Not after everything."

Tears build in my eyes, two years of resentment boiling to the surface.

"We both said things we regret that night." His voice is low, dipping his head to catch my eyes.

"Yes, Conrad, we both drew blood. But you and I both know that those cuts were never equal. You ended our friendship over the fucking phone. You called me unlovable-"

My voice breaks, tears streaming down my cheeks at this point. Conrad's shaking his head like trying to forget the bad memory.

"I didn't mean it, Delaney. I didn't mean it. I was scared, and I had just ended things with Aubrey. Our friendship meant so much to me, and I was so scared of losing it." He pleads with me.

"That's exactly what you did though! I know that I started it Conrad, and I will regret that every day for the rest of my life. But I loved you, and you couldn't handle that, so you turned me into this villain."

"No, no," he shakes his head again, "you were never the villain, Delaney. I was scared because I loved you too."

The bathroom is quiet, not even our breaths daring to break the fragile atmosphere. Voices and music are muffled behind the door, and Conrad is looking at me so intensely that I swear I might have something on my face.

Conrad Fisher was my first love. They say that never really leaves you, it sticks like pollen to a hummingbird. Falling in love with him wasn't grueling, it just kind of snuck up on me. It was like I woke up one morning and realized that I had loved him this whole time. I loved the way that he snort-laughed when we would watch South Park on the couch and the way that he went to every one of my track meets. I loved the way that his hair never seemed quite put together and the way that he smelled in the morning when he picked me up for school. I was intwined with Conrad Fisher the way the moon is intwined with the tide.

"Two years-" I start, "You didn't talk to me for two years after that night."

"Because I couldn't find the words to say how sorry I was. I'd tried, Delaney. I spent months trying to figure our how to apologize. But then you got together with Braedon, and I thought that it was over, that nothing I could say would ever be enough to make you believe that if I could take back every word, I would. I never expect you to forgive me, but I need you to know that I did love you."

He pauses, looking at the mirror behind me before looking back at me. His chest rises and falls at a steady pace, in sync with mine. My eyes soften involuntarily with his confession. I'm not sure that I forgive Conrad yet. But right here, in this bathroom, it feels like two years has been nothing more than a few days. I'll be going to Stanford in a couple weeks, leaving behind my life on the east coast, at Cousins Beach. Though it feels as though we're sixteen again, stressing over driving school rather than college. I know that we've both changed so much while we were apart, but at the same time it feels natural to be with him, even if we're arguing.

Conrad's gaze is heavy on mine and I feel my heart in my throat. Without thinking too much about it, I grab the back of his neck, pulling his lips onto mine. I think that I've made a mistake when Conrad pulls back startled, face inches from mine.

But after a second, his hand comes up to my face, lips dipping to meet mine more fervently than before. Our kiss is heated, Conrad's palm heavy against my skin, the feeling of his touch both familiar and foreign. It's strange to think that he's the Conrad that I've known my entire life, yet at the same time, not.

My arms are wrapped around his neck, and his hands come to the backs of my thighs, lifting me onto the bathroom counter. I quickly wrap my legs around his waist while his hands continue to hold my thighs. My sundress sits high on my hips from the position.

"You're so fucking stunning, D."

Conrad pulls back to run his gaze over me, his pupils blown out. I take the time to do the same, glancing over his worn t-shirt, jeans, and sun kissed cheeks. Conrad's head dips down to meet my neck, his hair tickling my jawline. He sucks at my skin, finding the sweet spot just under my ear and eliciting a soft moan.

"Don't leave a mark, Connie." I breath out as my hands tangle into his hair and pull slightly.

He nips slightly at the spot, the sting causing heat to explode throughout my body before running his tongue over it artfully.

"God, you don't know how long I've waited to do this with you."

"Bite me?" I laugh out, his hands holding onto my waist.

Conrad laughs too, before shaking his head.

"No, just touch you."

My breath catches in my throat at his words, the heat of his hands on my waist burning me. He moves them up, eyes on mine before twiddling the straps of my dress between his fingers.

"It is impossible to not want you, Delaney."

His voice is low, and he brings his forehead to connect with mine. Our breaths are intertwined, the feeling of his hair between my fingers as though I were home. Back to my Conrad. Our mouths touch briefly before we both give in again. Conrad pulls me flush against him, no space between our chests. I open my mouth, allowing his tongue to slip in, tangling with mine. The sound of his moan vibrates through me, every inch of us connected.

Conrad's fingertips dig into my thighs, rubbing them up and down while we fight for dominance. When one of his hands disappears under the hem of my dress, he pulls away slightly to look at me.

"Is this okay?"

We're both breathing heavily, and I can feel my cheeks flush.

"Of course."

Conrad looks down, watching as he bunches the floral fabric higher on my hips, revealing my light pink thong. He takes his time exploring my skin, hands groping at my bare ass, running his palm against my inner thigh. I just watch him, not daring to break the moment. And Conrad watches me, as though memorizing every piece that he touches.

When he dips down onto his knees, I feel my breath catch immediately. He looks heavenly down there, blue eyes heavy on mine as he plants a kiss onto my thigh. One kiss. Another. Each one higher up my thigh, his gaze never leaving mine as my breathing picks up. The feeling of his lips on my skin feels both right and wrong, paradoxical in the best way possible.

Conrad pauses, looking up at me from the floor.

"I need to taste you, D."

I nod, not letting myself look away.

"Words, baby."

My heart lurches at the name.

"Yes." I manage to get out.

He wastes no time, pulling the thong down my thighs and stuffing it into his back pocket. His hands pull my legs around his shoulders, and his head dips dangerously close to my core. I shudder at the feeling of his warm breath against my cunt, him still holding my thighs for support.

Conrad presses his tongue flat against me and I'm already soaking for him. I try to stifle my moans as he begins to work my clit, hands shooting out to grip his hair. When I pull a little, Conrad grunts against me, the sound filling my whole body.

My back arches with the pleasure of him this close to me, with his tongue exploring the most intimate part of me. He circles my clit some more, pleasure instantly building as I my hips involuntarily attempt to grind against him.

"Patience, baby." Conrad grips my hips and I feel him smile against me.

"Stop smiling down there, Connie. This isn't funny."

He laughs softly before dipping his tongue into my cunt, the feeling immediately halting our bickering. The pleasure is unlike anything else, especially when his fingers begin to rub at my clit, working both of them at the same time. My breathing picks up, the pressure of an orgasm building low in my stomach.

When I feel myself getting close, I pull Conrad away.

"I need you."

He stands, his body in between my legs. With him close to me, my fingers toy with the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head. I'd been around Conrad shirtless lots of times growing up. But it was never like this, never where I would touch him. Football had toned his body, and I take a moment to admire him.

"Done staring?"

I roll my eyes, reaching forward to cup his dick over his jeans, making his breath catch.

"Shut up Conrad."

"Mhm." He whimpers, rolling his hips into my hand.

Conrad holds his body up with one arm on the wall behind me, the other gripping my hip as if I could disappear any second. Despite him dry-humping my hand, I can't help but think that he's never looked this beautiful in our entire lives.

Needing him as soon as possible, my fingers fumble at his belt, pulling his jeans down. He takes initiative, sliding his dick out of his boxers and grabbing a condom from the pocket of his jeans. Fuck, he's big. I tentatively meet his hand, the feeling of his cock in my palm making me want him even more.

"Please." I practically beg.

His gaze his heavy on mine as my hand pumps his dick.

"Such a good girl for me, begging for my dick."

Conrad's hand comes to rest around my throat, and my thighs clench at the thought of him choking me. I nod at him, urging him to squeeze. When he does, I can't help the load moan that comes from me.

"Oh my god." He breathes out as I line his dick up with my entrance, the tip brushing against my folds.

"Are you sure?" Conrad asks as we both prepare to have him inside me.

"Always."

He pushes forward, his dick filling me up immediately, my eyes screwing shut from the feeling. He waits a second, allow both of us to adjust before he begins to move. I know that I won't last long, especially from coming so close when he was eating me out.

With him pumping in and out of me and his hand on my throat, Conrad dips his head to kiss me again. It's slow in contrast to his dick, feeling much more intimate than anything else we've done.

"You're it for me, Delaney."

When we both finish, Conrad slumps against me, face nuzzled into my neck. My arms are wrapped around his back, mine resting against the mirror.

'I've missed you." I hear him say, voice muffled as he strokes my hair.

"Yeah, me too. I feel like I got a piece of me back."

Conrad smiles at this, both of us not knowing what the future holds for us. All I know is I still love him as much as I did two years ago, when I confessed at the beach.

"Please don't walk away from me again."

"Never, baby."

[followmybones]

dancing at night with some of my favs

not entirely edited, 2nd POV, gender neutral (i think? male reader if anything)

had this in my drafts for ages and i decided to just post it; i included mini playlists with each character, based mostly off of vibes and the kind of things i'd think they would like to listen to, take them loosely, though.

includes: Kurro (Haikyuu), Dabi (MHA), & Beelzebub (Obey Me)

Kurro

 The both of you couldn't sleep, having felt restless, you decided to get up, and Kurro followed you. His mind was racing, and he didn't want to be away from you. He thought it might be worse away from you, so he followed you out to the couch in your living room.

 Kurro wasn’t necessarily worried about anything in particular, he just couldn’t get out of his head, but when you grabbed his hand to pull him up and started swaying with him, he felt his mind slow.

 It didn’t stop the thoughts, but the swaying helped calm him, and he liked being so close to you, one of his hands clasped in yours and the other on your lower back. It was nice and intimate, he’d pull you closer to rest his head against you and mumble I love you's against your skin like a mantra.

 Your swaying wasn’t set to any music, there wasn’t any need or point, it was just something to fill the time. Something to busy yourselves with while minds raced.

 He’s the type of guy who just sways with you, just wants to be close on nights like these.

 Kisses your forehead a lot, he also enjoys resting his head against you

 Tends to be a bit more vulnerable during this time, not to say he isn’t in general, but it just feels so raw. he doesn't take the time to refine his thoughts or emotions, he just spills his mind out for you.

 There tends to not be music when the two of you dance together at night, he doesn’t mind if you want to turn the music on after a bit, he just finds something about the silence to be oddly comforting.

recommended songs; apocalypse by cigarettes after sex, j's lullaby by delaney bailey, pretty boy by the neighborhood

Dabi 

 Dabi had been worried about you. Because he was a light sleeper, your shifting and adjusting had woken him up a few times, but when you got up to leave the room, he fully woke up.

 He could tell something was on your mind so he followed, he wasn’t exactly one for talking, so he asked if you wanted to listen to music while he held you for a bit on the couch.

 Figuring letting you stay in your head wasn’t for the best he offered you his hand, “Humor me, babe?”

When you took his hand, he pulled you up and brought your arms to rest around his neck, his arms going around your waist.

Dabi tends to doubt the effect his verbal comfort has on you, so he tends to try to distract you and comfort you in less auditory ways.

 To him, this dance is him showing that he's got you and you can lean on him.

 He knows you might not always get that though, so of course he’s going to lean over, tilting your head to look at him as he assures you that ‘everything is going to be okay, you don’t have to do anything alone if you don’t want to, because you’ve got him.’

 He's quick to brush off the moment, though, uncomfortable with his words despite their sincerity. Dabi will move on from the moment by offering you a wink and offering to burn that coworker/schoolmate you tend to complain about, saying: ‘It's not that much of a hassle if it will make you feel better.'

 arms around his neck, and his arms around your waist kind of guy 

 depending on the mood of the moment and what you’re wearing, his hands might come to rest in your back pockets 

 probably going to joke about the music being awful, even if you put on a playlist he made 

 buries his face in your hair, and lots of kisses, mostly on your shoulders and temple 

 secretly enjoys dancing together a lot, possibly more than you do

 he often gets lost in his head when the two of you dance together, it's like he goes on autopilot.

recommended songs; dance me to the end of the love by the civil wars, je te laisserai des mots by patrick watson, iris by the goo goo dolls

Beelzebub

Beelzebub was a glutton, and in the dead of night, he was ravenous, absolutely starving, but he was also craving your company, so he decided to wake you up to join him on his late food adventure, he figured he could make it up to you with cuddles afterward, but he didn't expect you to ask him to dance instead.

Beel is absolutely content dancing with you in the kitchen, hand in yours, giving you a slow spin. The movements were lazy, and your sleepy smile satisfied him, in a way food could never. Whatever human music you were playing was also leaving Beel in a good mood.

 Having to share earbuds so that none of his brothers would come to bother you two felt like a blessing to Beel. The wired restriction did mean he couldn't twirl you as much as he would have liked, but ultimately, he didn't mind because putting the headphone back into his ear gave you an excuse to run your hands over his jaw or through his hair, and the way you looked at him when you did left him breathless. 

 Is the kind of guy to like to spin you and wouldn't mind being spun around as well, thinks its funny to watch you struggle if you happen to be shorter than him

 Dancing with him is either full of giggles or very tender. 

 He often stops your dance sessions just to hug you and tell you how much he loves you.

 He's not much of a slow dancer, but if you're in the mood, he'll try his best, but if he's going to dance around, he likes to have fun and get a bit silly. He likes having fun with you. 

 When you two do slow dance, he likes to hum along to songs that he's familiar with, and if there isn't any music playing, you'll often find him humming, a deep, calming rumble that leads you to often lay your head against his chest. 

recommended songs; cherry wine by gretperez, another round by philip labes and caity gyogry, carino by the marias

[coolcattime]

And Note That There is Only One Key [OC YTTD AU]

Characters: Rupert Delaney, Katherine Delaney, Dr. Braedan Thaxx, Myla Soliel, Medli Mistwalker, Idric Ba'lor

Additional Tags: Abduction, Threatens of Violence, Panic Attacks, Possible Character Death

Co-Writer/Editor: @theiratlas

Three different pairs of people all wake up in the same situation. They wake up restrained to beds. The last thing they remember is being abducted. And a phone call tells them that if they do not escape in time, they will be killed.

As they all realise that this situation is very real, all three pairs have to attempt to figure out the way to escape with varying results.

The First Trial of Your Turn to Die with my OCs.

AO3 Link

“Urgh…”

Rupert Delaney groaned as he woke up to bright light burning into his eyes. He blinked a couple of times, then a couple more, trying to remember when he’d installed a light that fuck-off-bright and how on earth he’d fallen asleep with it left on. He reached up to shield his eyes. Or rather he tried to.

He was confronted with the inability to move his arm. That was worrying enough itself. More so was after he tried to move any other part of his body and found the exact same helplessness. He tried to thrash wildly but even then, the result was the same. Rupert could not move at all.

He was completely restrained. Like a kick to the teeth, he was awake and full of adrenaline or fear or both. He could feel them. Tight restraints on his limbs and head and torso. Attempting to get any kind of grasp on his surroundings, he moved his fingertips across the surface he was strapped to. It felt like a bed? Maybe like a stretcher? Did he get in an accident?

He tried to think back to what he was doing before this, to what he had been doing before waking up here. And a memory hit, sharp and serrated. He remembered. There had been someone in his house. He’d heard a noise and gone to investigate. Then someone grabbed him from behind.

…Shit. That was about the clearest thought in his head. Had he really just been kidnapped?

“...Huh? Wh—?!”

There was a voice to his left. A voice that he instantly recognised, though desperately hoped he hadn’t. It was completely impossible that he’d be wrong about this, but still he hoped to god he was a fool.

“Katherine?” He spoke as clearly as he could despite the lump in his throat.

“Rupert?!” With that panicked reply, his hopes were dashed. As he’d thought and feared, his sister was here with him. He tried to turn to look at her, quickly being reminded of just how stuck he was. Who had grabbed them? What the hell did they want? What could they possibly—?! “No, no, no, no! Not again… This can’t be real!”

“Katherine! Breath, okay, li- listen to me,” He pushed down every screaming thought of his own as Katherine began to panic. He was terrified, obviously, but he couldn’t imagine how terrified she must be. He’d lost track of the number of hours the last few years he’d spent trying to comfort her, trying to make sure she felt safe. Because he wanted to be a good brother. Because she deserved to feel safe after everything. How on earth could he make her feel safe right now? It was an impossible task, he knew. He knew he needed to try though. “Let’s just talk this through. Are you hurt?”

“I… No, I don’t think so,” He could hear her struggling to keep her breathing steady. He'd heard it so many times before, her desperately trying to be calm when she wasn't. How could anyone be calm right now though? He was only barely maintaining any sense of calm because he had to try and help her.

“I can't move, though…” Her voice was meek and like shards of glass in his ears.

“Okay…” Rupert tried to keep himself focused on a task instead of a feeling. Another question. He needed more information to try to figure out if this was a ransom situation or…or something worse. “Do you remember how you got here?”

“I…” She hesitated for half a moment. “I was heading out on a date. I was waiting for the lift and… Someone must've been waiting for me in the stairwell or one of the other flats or just somewhere. I didn't see anyone or even hear anything and someone just grabbed me from behind.”

There was a dawning horror in her tone as she spoke, the speed of her words syllabically-quickening as it did. She was only barely keeping herself from hyperventilating. Rupert regretted asking, he had no words that could possibly comfort her. Instead, he swallowed as hard as he could, trying to swallow his own seethe.

How had the kidnappers gotten inside her building? The place had boasted about its security. She had picked the place because it made her feel safe. How could they dare to say they have any security at all if an abduction could happen like this, within their own fucking walls?! How was she ever going to feel safe there again now that this had happened?

The panicked breathing quickly being mixed with sobs reminded him that he had to stay calm. He swallowed again. He couldn't blame Katherine for panicking, but that's why he had to stay calm. Whatever the hell was going on, he had to stay calm for her sake.

💀 💀 💀

“Myla, what on earth are you doing here?!”

“Being strapped to a bed.”

Myla Soliel could barely even muster the deadpan tone that came out of her mouth. Of all the people to be abducted alongside. Him, really? And she had been having such a great life not thinking about him. With him not in it.

There were probably things that she should be more focused on. Namely being abducted in the first place. However, with everything that had happened in her life, it was not so unbelievable to Myla that she would wake up strapped to some kind of hospital bed staring up at a sterile white ceiling, with that distinct smell of mould killer filling the walls. What was unbelievable, or rather completely and frustratingly annoying, was waking up in said position in the same room as her ex-employer Doctor Braedan ‘Edan’ Thaxx. Actually, that wasn’t that unbelievable, just those other things.

“Ah, well, yes,” Thaxx fumbled through his response. Did he really think he could act the way he used to with no difference? “Though that isn’t quite what I meant - how did you get here?”

“I was grabbed. By several people. I was headed to a job,” Myla didn’t really feel like going into much more detail. Given that they were both here together, it seemed incredibly unlikely that anything she was currently doing was to blame for her forced summoning. If she was here with Thaxx, her predicament was almost certain to pertain to him. “I assume I was drugged at some point, given current circumstances.”

“A similar incident happened to me,” Thaxx started in a way that sounded almost wistful in a way that he certainly shouldn’t be. “It’s a real shame - them getting into the lab like that has surely compromised some invaluable research.”

“...”

Myla’s lack of response was chosen and pointed. She would be incredibly unsurprised if she was actually dead and this was a form of divine, immortal, punishment. Sure, she wasn’t particularly religious, but at least if this was hell, she didn’t need to think about the why’s of this or a way out of them both. One thing’s for sure however, if this was hell, the divine are some cruel bastards.

After a couple of moments, Thaxx appeared to realise his faux pas. Or at the very least realised that he was not going to get a response.

“Oh, though I’m happy to know that you’ve found further employment,” He said in the way that one does when they have to speak niceties into a topic that they were only half-listening to. Awkward and far too obviously forced.

“Yes, I have,” No thanks to you, she added, internally.

She'd say he seemed surprised, but that would be adding malice that didn't actually seem present. She supposed it was not something that mattered right now. Unfortunately, it seemed this situation was very real. Which meant she unfortunately meant that she needed to actually focus. “Though I don't think that should be the focus right now.”

“Ah yes!” It seemed to only just occur to Thaxx that the two were strapped to beds and were surely in at least reasonably-grave danger. There was a beat of quiet. “Well, you are rather the muscle of the two of us. Can you get us out of the restraints?”

Myla inaudibly huffed. He had gone right back to ordering her around. Of course he had, why wouldn’t he? How could he even consider that she might have changed? Had she?

Myla decided to compartmentalise that for later. Right now, she had an abduction to escape from.

She attempted to move, if even just a millimetre. But all she found with her efforts was that there was absolutely no slack. Now that in itself was informative, if odd. It meant either whoever brought them here knew their precise sizes or had spent a good length of time securing loose ends and extraneous possibilities. Neither was exactly promising for the situation they found themselves in.

“I can't move at all,” She said after a good few tries to gain any freedom whatsoever. They weren't getting out of here until whoever had abducted them wanted them to get out. A fact you never want to be true. “If I had an arm free, I could try pulling things around. But in this rigging, I won’t be, no.”

“Well… erm…” Thaxx flustered and out of depth. He was still utterly unable to process her saying something was impossible then.

She considered asking if he had any idea who had grabbed them. It was, after all, almost certainly people interested because of something he did. However, before she could, there was a loud whipping noise. Akin to one letting go of a heavy-duty tape measure. As if the world had a sense of irony, the restraints on Myla’s right arm were all released.

“So - it seems you now have a free arm.” How is he smug right now?

She was able to resist the urge to throttle him, if only because it was currently impossible. She'd have plenty of time after they were free, she added that to a long to-do list.

Now it was time to test exactly how strong these restraints were.

💀 💀 💀

“Just one arm. Odd they didn't just leave it free to begin with,” Idric said, stretching his fingertips rhythmically as he regained such a small freedom.

“Maybe we both had to be awake?” Medli suggested the only thing she could think of. Better to suggest blindly and hope than fester and panic, she thought

Her heart was still pounding in her ears. Being grabbed and kidnapped from her home was bad enough, waking up completely restrained was a complete nightmare. Only in her worst nightmares did she imagine anything like this happening. And now there was the possibility that someone was watching them? It made her bones bend and her skin crawl.

Of course, there was the possibility that it had nothing to do with them both being awake. That it was just on a timer. But that wasn't much of a comfort though. Nor did it stick particularly right in her head.

“Someone's watching us, aren't they.”

“Sure feels like it, doesn't it,” Idric said, a mild amount of annoyance in his tone. It felt normal in a way that was comforting to Medli. If Idric was acting normal she didn't need to panic.

She could listen closer, hear the fear he was trying to hide. But Medli needed to pretend he was fearless so she could pretend to be the same. As if waiting for a queue, there was a loud snapping of his fingers. “Well! We've been given some freedom. We may as well use it. Never know where a release button might be!”

“Right! There must be something we can do now!” Medli said, already attempting to squeeze her fingers under the remaining restraints.

She knew she was looking at this far too much like a puzzle, but it stopped her from thinking too much about the whole why of them having been kidnapped. If this was a puzzle, then that was the reason why. A puzzle was better than, like, losing a kidney or a lung.

Unable to pull away any of the restraints, she started feeling along them. She quickly found her way to the edge of the bed. It seemed that the restraints warped all the way around. Logically that meant the releases would be underneath and she definitely couldn't reach that far. So instead, she tried to feel along the edge. There had to be something…

Miraculously, or perhaps the complete opposite, there was! She had found something.

“There's a keyhole! Attached to the restraints on the side of the bed!” Her heart was pounding louder and faster. She'd found a way out.

“That's great! Now if we can just find a key…” Idric went quieter. Medli listened as he clicked his tongue a number of times. He'd know what to do next. She was sure he would. “Can you reach the floor?”

Medli, though confused by the question, still stretched her arm down. She strained to reach as far as she could go. With the rest of her body locked in place, that wasn't exactly very far.

“If I reach straight down my fingertips can just touch it,” She said as she managed to just barely touch the cold tiles. She trusted thoroughly this would be worth the feeling of her ribs behind her teeth.

“So you wouldn't be able to grab anything?”

“No…” Medli felt almost as if she had done something wrong, like she’d failed them. Every anxiety and fear was kneading together. Of the abduction. Of whatever was going to happen to them. Of failure.

A click of Idric's tongue.

“Hopefully one of the keys isn't over there,” He said.

“Wait,” Medli started, once again perceiving reality through a not entirely fear coated lens. So probably a much unhealthier reaction, but she didn't have time nor the inclination to acknowledge that. “You really think the keys will be in here?”

She heard him drumming his fingers against the bed. The sort of thing he did when he was trying to work out his thoughts. She could almost picture him turning to her with a frustrated look.

“You feel it too right, that this is all a bit—”

Before Idric could finish, he was cut off by an all too familiar tune filling the room. It was enough to make Medli freeze as she realised that she hadn't actually checked her pockets.

“Is that your phone?”

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“They missed your phone! They missed it!” Elation flooded through Katherine’s words as her brother's jazzy ringtone filled the air. It was hard to tell if she was laughing or crying but all Rupert knew was it was far better than the rapid breaths that she had been barely passing words through. “We can get help!”

“Help might already be calling!” He finally felt lucky. Not only did he have his phone, he had a hand free to reach it.

He reached down to his phone, having never had a moment where he had wanted to thank God more. He pulled it out of his pocket, attempting to think through how the hell he'd explain the situation to whoever was calling. For the briefest moment, he felt something else in his pocket brush against his fingers. However, whatever forgotten junk he had seemed so unimportant with a ringing phone and therefore a way to get help.

He answered the call without looking, not caring who might be on the other end.

“Hey! Whoever this is, you need to call the police! Rina and I, we've been—”

“Beginning voiced guidance.”

Rupert jolted the phone away from his ear as the speakerphone came on automatically. He didn't recognise the voice, though it sounded like the sort of thing you'd hear on only the most taxing of automated answering service. Not robotic per say, but scripted and emotionless.

Confused to all hell, he raised the phone above his face. Maybe the number would tell him something? And maybe it would've done. But there wasn't a number. All there was, was the words ‘Voice Guidance: Please listen closely.’

“The First Trial will now begin. Katherine and Rupert. Find the key hidden in this room. Then, remove your restraints. If you cannot do that before time expires, the device in the bed will activate… And your bodies will be crushed. With a thud.”

Wait… a what?

Rupert listened in a mix of disbelief and horror. This had to be some kind of joke. He had no time to fully process a better explanation than this being reality as the voice continued speaking.

“By all means, please enjoy this thrill with all your entire body and soul. This trail’s time limit is a healthy ten minutes. And note that there is only one key, so please discuss who will use it wisely.”

The line went dead. There was just silence.

Rupert almost wondered if he should laugh. It had to be a joke, right? He and his sister couldn't have been kidnapped and strapped into a deathtrap like they were in some low-rate horror movie. It was fucking ridiculous.

But he didn't have time to rationalise the situation like that. As his heart began racing, he realised that ten minutes was far too short a time span to do anything other than act.

“Are we—” Katherine’s words caught in her quickening breath. She was more terrified than he had ever heard her. “Are we going to die?”

“No, we're going to get out of here. Both of us, safe, alive and laughing again. I promise,” Rupert truly meant his words. He just wished his throat didn't feel so dry as he said them.

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“And note that there is only one key, so please discuss who will use it wisely.”

The call ended and Myla dropped her phone and let it fall. Immediately she began checking her pockets. If they were meant to find a key while only able to move an arm, it seemed like the best place to start.

“This is a joke, right? I can't be in a deathtrap,” Thaxx sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than legitimately believing such a thing. Myla half wondered if she was supposed to comfort him, but he hardly seemed to even be acknowledging that they were in the same situation. “This can't be real, can it? Surely not, this can’t be happening”

“What reason would they have to lie?” Myla asked reassuring out of instinct rather than care, stopping in her search as she did. Maybe she could have just left him to his denial, but that left him not doing anything to help when the key might be on his side of the room. As harrowing as it may sound, she may actually need his help if she wanted to get out of here alive.

“Well, erm…” He flattered almost immediately. However, his tone suddenly turned harsher. “Look, beds that crush you if you don't escape in time just don't exist. The idea that they were telling the truth is ridiculous.”

“A lot of people would say the same about the research you do,” Myla said bluntly. What did it matter what was apparently possible? The fact of the matter was that they had been abducted. Whoever had done so had a grunge at least a couple of years deep given how long it had been since she her ‘service was no longer required’. Even if this sort of death trap was impossible, they could’ve made it possible with this much time. Frankly, though, it sounded entirely possible.

However, she was mostly just perturbed that Thaxx of all people was citing impossibilities. Every bit of research she had watched over with was the sort of thing a conspiracy theorist would have a breakdown upon seeing treated so casually. Hearing him citing something as impossible was laughable.

“... This is some experiment. We've been trapped to see how we react.”

Myla had no answer to that. She had simply stopped caring enough to give him any comfort. Her eyes glazed over in the humming fluorescents This wasn’t new, it had happened long before she'd found herself locked in a room with him. Thankfully though, she wouldn't need to try any longer, as in the last pocket she was able to easily check, she found what she had been searching for.

“I've found the key,” She said as she pulled it out. It felt like it was made of a far cheaper material than any other part of the trap, but it was definitely a key. She placed it on her stomach as she began to search around for a keyhole. She could reach the floor easily enough, but she'd still prefer to not waste any time having to re-find the key if she dropped it.

“Great work, Myla! Now pass it to me!” Now that far too confident tone was enough to make her pause.

“...Why?”

“You heard the phone, right? There's only one key,” He said as if that was the only possible explanation needed.

“Keep going, please,” She said flatly. It took a lot of energy to not just tell him to fuck off and unlock herself. Yet despite the time limit, she was morbidly curious as to where he could possibly be going with this.

“...and, um, whoever gets off the bed first must have to free the other by some other method. I'm going to take that responsibility for you,” He said. Myla did not like the sound of that.

However, if she was going to figure out this situation, she needed quiet. And unfortunately, he had a tendency to not shut up if his ideas weren't listened to. So, she'd need to indulge him.

“Stick your arm towards me. If we can touch, I'll pass you the key. I don't want to drop it,” She wanted less to actually pass him the key, but losing the key in the middle of them both was the worst scenario they could end up in.

“Good thinking,” She could hear his arm move and knew, whether she truly wanted to or not, she had to follow suit. “I'll get us both out of this, I am sure.”

Despite how confident he sounded, Myla felt like she was reaching towards her own death as she stretched out to find his arm well within reach.

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“I found it!” Medli exclaimed as she pulled the key from her blazer pocket. She spoke with a tone that would normally be associated with showmanship, like she had flourished the key in the air with a little spin. But she had the thing in a death grip.

Every clumsy mistake she had ever made was flashing through her head. She couldn't drop the one key. She could picture it. If she loosened her grip even a little, it'd slip out somehow and end up on the floor out of her reach.

“Great! Unlock yourself!” Idric said without hesitation.

“Wait, shouldn't I pass it to you?” She couldn't stop hearing the phone's message in her head. There was only one key. Surely Idric should have it. He was older than her and she knew he was smarter. If the beds could really kill them then he should have the key.

Because Medli knew herself. She tripped over her own feet. She dropped phones, and glasses, and—And keys! She constantly dropped keys! If she tried to unlock herself, she was sure that the key would end up on the floor. Then what? They'd just be stuck waiting for ten minutes.

Then there was a far more terrifying possibility in her head. The one where didn't drop the key. The one where she freed herself and couldn't save Idric. Crushed with a thud.

“Of course not. You already have it, you should get yourself safe first,” He sounded far too calm.

“But they said there’s only one key!” Did he not realise that if she used the key then he’d be stuck? At least if he freed himself, he’d have the chance of getting her free by force.

“Exactly! So, either the key unlocks both of our beds and this whole thing is just to get us to fight, like in Saw V,” He chuckled at his own aside, as if it was more important than the phantom sounds of the ticking clock. “Or the key only works on one bed, but that’s not going to change based on who tries the key first.”

He spoke quickly, galloping through each word with poise, as much as he wouldn’t admit it, he was pressed for time.

Medli squeezed her grip tighter. She understood the point he was making, though she really wished he wouldn't bring up horror movies right now.

“Either way, there's no harm in it.”

“I… Okay,” She couldn't argue against him, but she was still terrified. Maybe it was silly. He made a good point. A key couldn't not work on a lock it was meant to work on. Yet her mind was so far from logic.

It took every bit of focus she had to keep gripping onto the key as she re-found the keyhole. It fit in perfectly. She turned it, but she couldn't get the thought out of her head that she was making a decision she couldn't take back.

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“Please, just try and reach out. You can take the key and unlock yourself and you'll be safe,” Rupert felt his hand shaking as he begged for his sister to just unlock herself. He knew what the voice on the phone had said. There was only one key. So Katherine should use it. He just needed her to reach out and take it.

“I can't. I—” Her voice cracked. It was the sort of panic he'd heard before. The sort that he had spent weeks learning methods to coax her out of. But methods like that only worked if they weren't actually in danger. “It's happening again… you're gonna die— I'll have to watch you die… I can't—”

He took a shaky breath as he heard his sister spiralling. The key felt heavy in his outstretched hand. A horrible numb feeling was settling in. She wasn't going to take it. There was only one thing he could do.

Being more careful than he had been with any task in his life, Rupert unlocked his own restraints.

The loud whipping sound once again hit his ears as his entire body was freed. As fast as he possibly could, he pushed himself off the bed, grabbing the key back from the lock at the same time. Get Katherine free as fast as possible. That's all he needed to do.

Actually standing up made his freeze though. The room was almost completely bare, pretty much just the two beds in it. But there was Katherine. The position she was in was enough to make anything stop dead. Fixed in place by green straps on her head, chest, two points on her legs and two points on her right arm. It was the same position he had been in, except she had her opposite arm free. Actually seeing it was something else though.

She hadn't even reacted to the noise of him being freed. Her breathing was still rapid. Her free hand was attempting to pry away the restraint on her chest. He didn't know how long he stood staring at the horrifying reality before him. Though he hoped to god it was only a second. The moment he realised he had frozen, he pushed through and forced himself to move.

She wasn't going to be stuck for much longer. He rushed the short distance between them. The moment he was close enough, he took her hand. Squeeze for six seconds, loosen for six. He wasn't counting the seconds as he normally would, but he did his best to keep rhythm as he crouched down to better reach the keyhole. Just a couple sixes.

“Rupert. You're—" A steadier breath than before. “You're safe!”

“Yep! Safe and alive. And you're going to be safe too in just a—” Rupert's voice died in his throat as he tried to unlock her. Tried because the key didn't fit.

He let go of her hand to try and force it. It had to be stiff. Or he had the wrong angle. Or! Or!

He stared at the lock. The key was so clearly too big for it.

And note there is only one key, so please discuss who will use it wisely.

He had used the one key on himself. He could've insisted harder, but he didn't and now she was going to—

“Fuck!” He threw the key at the wall. The impact was nowhere near hard enough for how much he'd fucked up.

“What's wrong?!” He had to tell her. He knew that he had to tell her. But he wasn't even sure if he could say out loud the god awful reality he'd put himself in.

“I used the one key on myself and now…” He felt nauseated. He knew he had to say more, but he didn't want to. Saying the words felt like he was cementing them even if they were anyway true. “Now it can't unlock you. I'm sorry, Rina. I'm so sorry.”

“That's…” He couldn't read her emotions as she spoke and immediately hesitated. He couldn't bring himself to look at her when he'd messed up so badly. “That's not how keys work. It must have always just unlocked you. Maybe the keyhole on my bed is just a distraction. What else is in the room?”

It was the calmest she had sounded since waking up. Her words managed to jump-start Rupert's mind past his own frustration and fear. She was right.

He looked around the room, actually trying to take in the few objects there were other than the beds. There was another solution somewhere here. There had to be.

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“So it fits your lock… How expected.”

Myla had absolutely no idea why Thaxx had decided to voice that particular thought. Especially now that she wasn't restrained and very much could crush him herself if she wanted to.

She decided not to give into that thought. As tempting as it was, passing the key back and forth had probably wasted about half their time. That technically wasn't a concern for Myla as she pushed herself off the deathtrap, but she didn't exactly feel like dooming Thaxx. So it was time to try and figure out the way to unlock him.

As she stood up, she surveyed the room. While the beds took up most of the room, there were still some other notable things. The numbers 1374 written on the wall. A piece of sandpaper hanging from some cord. A panel on the far wall that looked like some kind of combination lock. Not a lot, but alongside the key and her phone, it made for enough possible solutions to eat away at her time.

The restraints, now she could actually see them, she realised were red. The same colour as the key. Thaxx's restraints meanwhile were green. A bit of a sarcastic clue for who the key unlocked given that she couldn't have possibly known the colour of either of their restraints until now, but that was at least confirmation that the key was always meant to unlock her.

“I believe there's a puzzle. I need to complete it for us to leave,” Myla said, deciding it was better to not leave the man completely in the dark. If he knew she was working, he'd probably keep his mouth shut anyway.

“Ah! Describe the room to me. I'll figure this out for you,” Now there was something she hadn't asked for.

Y’know what, if he was going to insist on continuing to order her around.

She gave a brief description of the room and all the items she had noticed. As she did, a solution clicked into place on her head. Thaxx, however, seemed to be taking a little longer to consider. She watched his face change, wondering if he had been listening when they were told this situation had a time limit.

She supposed that getting the correct solution did now matter a lot more to him than it did to her. Still, though, in a situation where his life depended on it, you'd think the man would think a little faster.

She considered giving out her solution.

“The combination lock, can you input numbers?” He asked. She hadn't actually checked that. She trudged past Thaxx's bed to the far wall and actually get a close look at the thing.

“Yes, it's made up of four number tumblers,” She said as she got into view of the thing. She gave each a test spin. “Seems like the standard zero to nine.”

“One. Three. Four. Seven!” He said plumbing each syllable the way one might at a pub quiz.

Myla did as he said with a heavy eye roll. Obviously, she couldn't have figured out such a thing without the input of the genius doctor. Thank god he was here.

As she turned the tumblers into position, she wondered how long it would be until he realised the pointlessness of her doing this.

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Idric wouldn't say he was worried per say as Medli had fallen silent and he remained stuck on a death trap. At the very least he knew she was safe, though that didn't put his mind at nearly as much ease as he'd like it too. Mostly because partway through describing the room to him, she had suddenly run over to something and now all he could hear was the sound of scraping plastic.

“I know I said I trust your judgement — and I do — but could you explain exactly what you're doing?”

“There was sandpaper. I'm sanding down the key,” Medli said, not looking up from her task as she worried if she stopped for even a moment she wouldn't get it done within the time limit. She knew that if anyone could see her, she'd look insane, but Idric's life depended on her doing this. So she needed to keep focusing on it. Bloodied up index finger aside.

That or she had fixated on completely the wrong thing. And she'd figure that out too late and Idric would— No! No, this was the right thing to do. She was sure of it. This was worth it. It had to be.

“I know I can't really see the room, so maybe I'm missing something, but didn't you mention a combination lock?” Idric asked. Medli bit her lip. He sounded frustrated. Or maybe he was anxious? Anxious made sense in this situation and wasn’t an emotion she heard from him too often. Maybe she was just mixing them up.

She should probably try and explain her thought process. It was just that she was never really much good at that.

“It isn’t connected to anything. Like yes, it’s there. But it isn’t actually there. You’d see it the same if you could, uhm see it. It’s just all dangly. Don’t even worry about it” She said, her usual hyped-up tempo and candace made her sound almost nonchalant despite her stressed clung up sternum.

“Good to know you’re confident,” Idric breathed, he trusted her, he just couldn’t find the words. Trying desperately to laugh as he normally would, it got caught. It sounded hollow. Medli felt herself shaking.

“No, like I mean it. It isn't physically connected to anything. Nothing that a key might come from or into or even anything to show it's connected to the beds at all,” The more she tried to explain it the less confident she felt. It had made so much sense in the moment but now she felt terrified that she was missing something.

“So why the sandpaper?”

“The voice on the phone said there was only one key. So it has to work on both locks, but it's too big for your bed. So there has to be a way to make it smaller, and it felt kinda odd, and there was sandpaper… So sandpaper!” She could feel her explanation rattle out of her throat, the vultures picking at it as she spoke. She knew her logic wasn't flawless in the first place but saying it out loud was making her feel stupid. So stupid. Was she too focused on trying to sand down the key? Maybe, but inputting codes into the wall wasn't going to take nearly as long. She could try that second if this really was just her taking a giant leap in logic.

But this wasn't a waste of time. She was sure of it. Why would there be sandpaper if she wasn't meant to use it?

“Okay, Meds, I trust you,” Idric actually sounded relaxed. At home almost. Finally.

Good. That was good. If he didn't trust her, Medli had no idea what she would even do.

She was not going to let him die. She… she had no idea what she'd do if he did.

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“Why hasn't it done anything?” Rupert smashed his fist against the panel in a frustrated attempt to get it to actually work. It had made a noise when he had first input the number. It had to have done something. But apparently not as nothing in the room had actually changed.

So he was stuck racking his brain for anything he might have missed. Maybe he was meant to put in the numbers in a different order. Or maybe it was maths. Or maybe there were some completely different numbers he was meant to input. There were thousands of possible combinations. How was he supposed to guess the right one?

“Maybe it just doesn't do anything?” Katherine suggested. Though she was far calmer than earlier, she didn't sound exactly sure in her words. The code panel has seemed like the obvious solution, especially with numbers written on the wall like that. Now though it was pressing at her mind that it was too obvious. “Maybe it's just meant to distract us.”

“It has to do something. There's nothing else here!” The room was so empty. If the panel did nothing, then what in the room could possibly be the solution? “It's this panel, the key, my phone, and some sandpaper!”

“Sandpaper?”

“Yeah. There's a piece of it hanging in the corner,” Had he not mentioned it when originally describing the room to her? Possibly not, it still didn't seem important to him now. But that didn't stop his nerves from building as he watched his sister take in the information.

“Why on earth would there be…?” Katherine murmured before going silent. Rupert waited a moment to see if she would speak again, but she seemed lost in thought.

He'd found her increasingly hard to read since he'd gotten free. She wasn't actively fighting a panic attack, which was definitely a good sign. Still though, he couldn't tell if she was actually calm or more just scared beyond expression. He wasn't even sure which he'd prefer given the situation she was stuck in.

He just wished that she would say whatever she was thinking. Maybe she could figure out what he couldn't and then she'd be safe. But he couldn't just rely on her. There had to be something that he'd missed. It didn’t make sense that their abductor would put so much effort into a game just to kill her.

In desperation, he went back to the key. Maybe there was a code written on it that he'd missed or something. It looked like he'd thrown it hard enough to damage it, as a couple of tiny red chips felt from it. It didn't feel nearly as solid as it had before either. Slightly confused, he shifted the key in his hand. It felt like something was shifting inside.

Then for a brief second, he saw it. The tiniest hint of green poking through the red. It clicked into his head in a sudden horrible flash.

He turned on his heel to reach and pull down the sandpaper. Practically sliding into place, he knelt by the lock on Katherine’s bed. Every part of him was focused on sanding down the key. He didn't even acknowledge the confused questioning from his sister.

He had to still have enough time. He might be a goddamn idiot for not realising the solution earlier. He'd take that. But he had to still have enough time left to save her.

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“There must be a combination we missed! Try them again!” Thaxx's impatience was very quickly turning into desperation and derision as he realised that his solution wasn't working.

Myla huffed a little too loudly as she turned back to the panel and began to shift the tumblers again. She wasn't even sure missing a combination was possible. The panel didn't have a confirmation button, so just turning to the right combination would be enough.

Assuming there was a right combination, of course.

“I'm pretty sure that I've done every combination of the digits on the wall,” She said, hoping to finally move on. It didn't seem like quite a likely thing for him to do given how he had been the whole time. But she wanted to make her stance clear at least.

“Then… then the numbers on the wall must be a red herring,” Oh, so he'd finally gotten it. “The code must be a significant number to the both of us.”

Or not. She stood in wonderance of what number he could possibly mean given that this was the first time they'd met in three years.

“Ah! Try the date of the first job I gave you.”

Myla stood in silence, perplexed. Was he actually being serious?

“You remember that date, don't you?”

“Yes,” She wondered if he did. Probably not given that he didn't tell her the exact numbers to put in. Though admittedly she was not exactly in the state of mind to be giving him credit.

She turned the tumblers to the date. Nothing happened. For half a moment, about a dozen dates filed through her mind. Each night had the potential to be the reason the two were here. However, she quickly shoved them to the back of her mind. If it was anything to do with one of those jobs, they'd be clues in the room to make sure they knew why they were here. There wouldn't be this kind of guesswork.

Briefly, she turned her gaze towards the sandpaper. She carefully considered her options as Thaxx continued listing off numbers for her to try.

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Medli stared at the key in her hand trying to see if any red pieces were still stuck to it. She was acutely aware that she didn't have time for perfectionism, but she couldn't shift her anxieties. Still after three checks over, she couldn't see any of the red coating left on the part of the key that would actually go into the lock. With an intake of breath, she pushed the key onto the keyhole and turned.

Loud whipping noises filled the air. She breathed out. She'd done it. Idric was safe.

She slumped. As Idric stood up and off the bed, all the energy suddenly left her. She knew she didn't have time to rest. They had all been abducted by people who had shoved them into a death trap. They shouldn't stay in this room.

But she wanted to just curl up and cry. Her school uniform felt uncomfortable in a way that made her want to scratch her own skin off. She was shaking, trying to catch her breath despite how she hadn't realised she had been breathing so rapidly until this very moment.

A gentle hand squeezed her shoulder.

“You alright?” Idric asked, offering his other hand to help her off the ground. She didn't take it, scrambling up herself with a sudden burst of energy.

“I should be asking you that! You could've died!” She couldn't believe him. He shouldn't be trying to comfort her right now. That was what she was meant to do! She'd literally had his life in her hands! He gave her a smile.

“With you working to free me? Nah. Was never going to happen,” He said with such confidence that she laughed. How did he believe in her so much? She felt like she was on the verge of a breakdown. Like she had been moments away from getting him killed.

Her laugh faded into tears as every bit of focus she had forced into the task died away into fear. She nearly collapsed to the ground, but Idric pulled her into a tight hug.

“It's okay kid. We're both okay.”

They were both alive. They were both safe. Now they just needed to get out of here.

[stitching-in-time]

Voyager rewatch s6 ep18: Ashes to Ashes

This one just kind of bothers me from every angle-nothing about the main plot line works in this one. There's a nice B plot with Seven and the Borglets, but the two plots didn't thematically tie together in any way.

The whole concept of a race of aliens that reproduces by reanimating dead bodies is just so dumb. A corpse that's been dead for weeks can't be revived, no matter how advanced their technology is. Once there's no brain activity for that long, there would be nothing to revive, even if they could get the autonomic functions to restart. And if they can't reproduce naturally, how did they even come into being in the first place?? I guess they must have, at one point, and lost the ability somehow, but if they're advanced enough to reanimate corpses, why wouldn't they just cure their own infertility instead?? It makes no sense at all.

But worse even than that is the attempt to shoehorn in an entirely new character, and say that she'd been close friends with Harry all along. What?? Six years in, and we've never seen or heard of Harry's supposedly extremely close best friend, who he's been extremely close with since academy days, and had a crush on that whole time, who was on Voyager with him for 3-ish years, until she died on an away mission under his command, and yet he never talked about her even once?? That's just way too much of a stretch. First of all- Harry joined Voyager straight out the Academy, and he was dating Libby (remember her? the writers clearly don't!) at the time- so he was in a relationship with Libby while he was supposed to be in love with Lyndsay? And he says he decided not to pursue Lyndsay when they both got assigned to Voyager, but he was definitely still with Libby at that time, so I should certainly hope he wouldn't be pursuing someone when he's already in a relationship! He was still very loyal to Libby in the beginning, so I just don't see how he could have been in love with Lyndsay and toying with the idea of pursuing her at the same time. It just makes Harry look like a creep- don't do that to him!

And then to say that Harry had a super close best friend from the Academy on Voyager with him during the whole time that he was becoming best friends with Tom also makes no sense and basically retcons the entire series. The whole thing about Tom and Harry was that they were both on a new ship with no friends and latched on to each other- if Harry already had that, it throws off their dynamic, but more than that, there's no way Harry could have had two best friends on Voyager who never interacted at all in 3 whole years. There's no way we wouldn't have seen them together, no way he wouldn't have talked to Tom about her, ever, no way her death wouldn't have noticeably affected him. If she's close enough to Harry that she just shows up in his quarters in the middle of the night when she's upset, she would have been close enough to be hanging out with him and Tom and B'Elanna. And why wouldn't he have dated her after he gave up on seeing Libby again? He dated one of the Delaney sisters, who he didn't even really like! If he had his Academy crush right there, he'd have dated her. And when exactly was she supposed to have died? They said it was a Hirogen attack 3 years ago, but this is season 6, and the Hirogen were introduced mid season 4, so it couldn't have been more than 2 years ago. Nobody bothered to fact check or make anything make sense in this ep. It's just bad writing.

On the one hand, I get that they needed a regular character to be friends with Lyndsay so the the audience would be invested in her, but there really was no way to use any of the regular characters that way and make it believable. They're all so tight knit, you can't believably shoehorn a character like this in there without it feeling like a huge betrayal that we never saw them, if they were there the whole time. They just shouldn't have made the main emotional journey that of a guest character to begin with, especially when we've just added 4 new regular characters with the Borg children, in addition to 9 main cast, who already have too little focus since Seven was introduced.

In the end, despite her romance with Harry (I totally forgot they kissed, and it's implied that they had sex too) she decides to go back to the aliens who resurrected her, the Kobali, because she feels like she doesn't fit in anymore on Voyager. It seems unlikely that just having her DNA altered and looking like a Kobali would make her feel more kinship with them after only two years, especially when she remembers so much of her life on Voyager in such detail. They threw in a mention of her not remembering her dad at all, but other than that, she had completely intact memories of Voyager and her Academy days with Harry. It just wasn't believable that she'd go back to the Kobali. (Even though she obviously had to, from a plot standoint. They couldn't just leave a character who's supposedly so close to Harry on board without making her a regular, which they obviously weren't going to do.)

The farewell scene between her and Harry feels oddly flat- I suppose they had to downplay her attachment to Harry to make it believeable for her to want to leave him, but I still didn't buy it. They had really good chemistry together, and after spending the whole episode insistently building up the intimacy between them, her suddenly bailing when they finally got together felt very forced.

The B plot about Seven attempting to wrangle the Borglets was cute, with Seven trying to structure their time down to the last minute, and the kids rebelling accordingly (in an incredibly orderly Borg way lol). After a pep talk from Space Dad Chakotay, Seven realizes she has to give the children more freedom, and it's very cute to watch them become a weird little family unit.

The end scene is structurally a little weird, since it ends with Harry pining over Lyndsay's hairbrush, but the little Borg girl, Mezoti, sees it and likes it. He gives it to her, and takes her to the holodeck to go prank Tuvok with his Vulcan temple program, like he had been planning to do with Lyndsay. It's cute, but I feel like it should have been Tom he went to the holodeck with, since thematically, it puts Mezoti in the position of substituting for Harry's lost love, which she isn't an important enough character to him to do. I know they were trying to tie the A and B plots together, but it just felt like yet another symptom of this writer not knowing how to properly handle characters and their relationships to make them feel believable and satisfying. None of the other characters seemed to have any feelings or reaction at all to suddenly seeing someone they thought was dead again, and they all should have had. It's just poorly handled at every turn.

Tl;dr: A weak idea marred by even poorer execution. Despite the actress being very likable, Ensign Ballard feels like an uncanny changeling because we'd never seen or heard of her before, and the whole story was predicated on being invested in her and Harry's relationship, which I couldn't suspend my disbelief enough to do. A wasted episode, redeemed only by it's cute b-plot.

[whumpsmith]

Also, Consequences and Bad End WIPs whaaaat??? 👀👀👀👀

@3-2-whump

From this game

Bad End was answered here

Consequences was supposed to be a short lil "What if" oneshot or at least short fic, but uhhhhh there's like 28 parts now. Let me lay out a timeline for u.

OK So after I finished writing My Move and Our Move, I also wrote a Christmas Special taking place after the events in Our Move in which Erick and Delaney ended up working together??? (You can find it on my deviantart page if you wanna read ahead, but iirc requires an account because I set everything to mature content as a precaution. I hope to get round to posting OM and the xmas special to tumblr by the end of the year, but that depends on whether Stab can find the time/energy/motivation to finish & post the accompanying art pieces, so I'm just patiently awaiting that first :3)

Anyway the Christmas special then led to a "What if?" spark and I wrote a stupid lil bit where Erick has dinner with Delaney to make a deal about drug distribution for Tito. They play some 5D mental chess and somehow exchanging numbers and a kiss becomes part of the agreement. Erick gets a really good deal for Tito, and he steals Delaney's wallet when they kiss. He nd I both thought that would be the end of it but by god were we wrong.

Erick is then asked by Tito to bring Delaney a package, and while Erick is there Delaney talks him into taking a job from him too. They go on a lil roadtrip together for said job during which Delaney tries to manipulate Erick into doing more and more questionable things while Erick is trying to manipulate Delaney into paying him more and more money.

It gets worse from there on regarding drugs, alcohol, coercion, grooming, mutual manipulation, etc, but that's all NSFW so I'll hide that under a ~keep reading~ but before that: OC CREDITS

Delaney belongs to @scarletfish8eta

NSFW deets under the cut.

Delaney is quick to figure out that Erick will do a lot for the right price, but not everything which is why he resorts to alcohol, drugs and also classic grooming ofc. He has to resist a lot of temptation just to make his home feel like a safe space and luring Erick in after he has a bit of a falling out with Fetch and finally runs away from him.

Out of the frying pan and into the fire asldkf. They're basically sugar-dating at this point. Everything they do is dubcon because of the money/drugs/alcohol involved with every decision. Erick develops a dependency on the drugs, and he confuses it with affection for Delaney. Delaney develops a fondness for Erick (likely because he's putting so much work into this con and it would suck to lose out after all that) but yeah unhealthy attachments from both sides, aka toxic yaoi.

It's rotten from the start, but the con really starts to unravel when they finally start having sex. Erick starts to have doubts (talk about post-nut clarity), Delaney gets more posessive and that clashes ofc.

Erick has kept in touch with his friends during all this and during one of Delaney's business trips he gets very bad withdrawal and a moment of clarity during which he asks for their help. They get him out of there and also steal everything that isn't bolted down to pawn off and pay for rehab - THE END

Fun fact: A lot of this is referenced in the polycule harem college murder mystery sitcom AU as if it's some kind of sequel, and it sorta is? But it's mostly just because I'd been working on both AU's simultaneously.

[revisitingstoneybrook]

#44 Dawn and the Big Sleepover: Chapter 9

The kids get a little overeager when running a garage sale.

Another babysitting chapter, this time with a notebook entry from everyone's favorite semi-literate 8th grader. And wow, this entry is worse than usual. I have to copy it in its entirety:

Yestirday was the yard sail at the Radous Rudowskis. Boy was I glad to read about your carnaval, Jesi. Dont get me rong. Its just maks me feel beter, that I wasnt the only one who had a tough time. Remeber when I was assined to supervize the sale and I said that if Jacky Rudowsky was involvd it was bound to be a disastr? Well the funy thing was, it was'nt even Jacky who mest up.

Ok, everyone's brains still intact after reading that?

And a yard sail? Did she bring the boat she sailed in Island Adventure over and display it in the Rodowskys' yard? I'm not even going to go near 'assined.' It sounds...dirty.

Geez, first we have to suffer through a Claudia BSC Notebook entry, now we have to suffer through a Rodowsky sitting chapter. I actually don't mind Jackie. I just hate reading sitting chapters involving him because it always feels like I'm reading the script of a cartoon. The kid's clumsy, we get it, stop beating us over the head with it!

Dawn says Claudia always wears her most indestructible clothes when she's babysitting for the Rodowskys. I remember that from another book...wasn't it jeans and a button-down white shirt? You'd think she'd pick a different color than white, since stains would show up the worst on white! But, logic isn't one of Claudia's strong suits. Dawn says if Claudia had a suit of armor, she'd wear that when sitting for them. Dammit, Dawn, don't give her any ideas! Now she's going to make a chain mail jumpsuit out of soda can pop-tops.

This chapter starts at the meeting after their school assembly, and Mrs. Rodowsky calls, asking if one of them can supervise the garage sale Shea and Jackie are organizing. Because, you know, she and Mr. Rodowsky can't do it. I guess they have to go to the grocery store or something. Needless to say, none of the girls jump at the chance to help out. It's just like if the Prezziosos called. They finally draw straws to see who the unlucky one will be, and Claudia ends up the victim. You know they rigged that, and Claudia's so dense she didn't notice.

In the days leading up to the garage sale, Claudia helps Jackie and Shea make a flyer (When will people learn - NEVER TRUST CLAUDIA TO MAKE A FLYER BECAUSE SHE KANT SPEL GUD!) and collect donations from other kids. That same week, donations start pouring into the barn and Dawn is surprised to see kids asking for receipts so they can win first prize at the sleepover. Dawn fears the kids are getting too competitive (after ignoring Mary Anne's concerns when she mentioned it earlier), and Claudia notices the same thing at the garage sale.

Right away, as Jackie is showing Claudia the stuff he and Shea got their parents to donate, he knocks a glass bowl into a toaster, which nudges a pile of plates off the table and sends them crashing into the driveway. Claudia sends him off to get a broom and Jackie goes to find one, almost bumping into another table in the process. Because, you know, he's a WALKING DISASTER. I don't think they ever made that clear enough.

They sweep up the broken plates with Jackie managing to not cause anymore destruction, and they open for business. And problems start to arise right away. Mrs. Delaney picks up a lamp which she recognizes as one of her own. Since it's the Delaneys, I'm guessing it's covered with rubies and they bought it for $80,000. And wait...the Delaneys go to Stoneybrook Academy! This is a Stoneybrook Elementary School project. Why are their kids donating stuff too?

Watson the Millionaire shows up and asks Claudia what kind of books are available. Claudia picks up an old book off a pile and stumbles over trying to pronounce Dostoevsky. Of course she would. Watson the Millionaire probably made her read it out loud because he wanted to torture her. And, uh oh, it's HIS book! The whole pile is his! He confronts David Michael, who sheepishly admits to taking them because they're old and Watson the Millionaire never reads them. Then Elizabeth comes over with a box of her picture frames. You see where this is going. David Michael starts to plead his case, but Elizabeth ignores him and says Mrs. Kilbourne found a necklace of her's that Maria donated. Hey - the Kilbournes go to Stoneybrook Day School! Are all the kids involved in stealing stuff from their parents? I mean, the parents are pretty oblivious most of the time, so it must have been easy. Either that or David Michael went on a robbery spree in his neighborhood.

Elizabeth says Mrs. Kuhn found some of her things there, and then Mr. Rodowsky runs past them, wielding a tennis racket and chasing Shea. Turns out it cost him $73, and he just rescued it from someone who tried to buy it. Then they hear Mrs. Addison scolding her daughter Corrie for donating a radio without her permission. The Brewers and Mrs. Rodowsky put two and two together (because Claudia can't), then realize what's going on. Claudia's trying hard not to laugh at it, and I don't see how this is funny. The kids basically stole stuff from their parents, and if no one had caught on, there would be serious trouble.

Anyway, Mr. Rodowsky takes matters into his own hands and addresses the crowd, telling them that most of the things for sale are unauthorized and asking if they can wait a few minutes while they sort everything out. Mrs. Delaney ends up relenting and gives the lamp up for sale, Mrs. Addison and Watson the Millionaire buy their stuff back, and everything ends up OK in the end.

[heronpoxed]

Major Sons of Anarchy Spoilers

This post is for Tara Knowles stans and Tara Knowles stans only!

(maybe a little bit for her antis too)

Y’all know that I love Jax Teller right? but I love Tara Knowles more and sometimes I hate Jax so much, it is absolutely palpable because he is a pathological cheating manwhore<3 

This is probably going to be some type of um expansion of the similar post I wrote years ago (I wrote a whole goddamn essay. My 17-year-old self went all out and if you’re interested, here’s the link: https://www.tumblr.com/heronpoxed/625890875891990529/sons-of-anarchy-spoilers ) but this time I am older, wiser and more pissed off. 

I was scrolling through reddit, reading some convos on why Jax cheated on Tara this much and what his motivations were. Most of them were stating similar things which can be narrowed down to this: “This was the life and the MC culture. When you’re a part of an MC there are expectations that you need to meet aka expectations to cheat on your partners. He was raised this way. He was a womanizer and had gotten a horrible example of love from Gemma and Clay. He was seeking distractions, etc” 

Well, let me tell you: What a load of fucking bullshit. 

First of all, we have Otto fucking Delaney who did so much unimaginable shit just because he was in love with Luann. Looking at Otto, would you really think that he would be capable of cheating on her?  And the fact that he was a loyal husband would make him seem less deserving of his title as an MC member? 

I hate that everyone excuses Jax’s cheating. Like, at all! I hate that Sutter thought that he had to make Jax a cheater in order to portray a realistic MC member. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t know shit about MC other than what I’ve seen on the show, but let me tell you this: Jax was always portrayed as someone who was smarter than the rest of the club, more intelligent and above all this fake and basic instinct bullshit that most of the members lived by for so long and this is exactly why Jax being a cheater does not make sense because it just made him inconsistent. The toxic MC culture is to be unfaithful to your partners but the whole essence of Jax’s character is that he tried as much as he could to go against said culture and push the MC in a healthier direction.

With Jax always taking the moral high ground while being a VP and mostly taking a moral high ground while being a prez, you wouldn’t expect him to do shit like this to Tara, a woman he so obviously loves with his whole being. Like thats the thing, you can’t even say that he doesn’t love her because the lengths that he was willing to go for her were immeasurable. He got confused there for a sec but in the end he literally gave up his freedom so she could have hers and if we look through the darker lens, we all witnessed what he did to the poor Chinese boy and his own mother. 

The only time I get Jax’s motivation to sleep with someone who isn’t his wife, is when he found out about the divorce and the pregnancy. That thing would really fvck someone up and even if I hated that instead of talking it out with Tara or just like shouting at her, he decided to bury himself in a blonde milf, I understand why he did it. He was feeling hurt and upset and betrayed (tho If he hadn’t become a person who couldn’t be reasoned with, this could’ve been avoided).

However, him sleeping with Colette in 6x01??? There is no excuse! 

This is the shit that I hate the most, man. The second his relationship with Tara got strained, he ran straight to Colette instead of facing his issues and let me tell you, this makes Jax a coward. 

What’s worse is that he wanted to do it again and if he hadn’t seen Colette with Baroski, he most definitely would’ve slept with her that day. That entire scene is absolutely disgusting. Not because it’s relatively graphic, but because of the look on Jax’s face, like Colette was his and he felt violated that someone else was sleeping with his property. I literally gagged and threw up and cried. Thats how sick that scene was.

What’s even worse than THAT, is that if Colette hadn’t died in the Diosa massacre, that manwhore would’ve slept with her again and wouldn’t even feel weird about it(1) even after being caught with her by his wife, (2) even after knowing deep down that, on moral level, Tara would’ve been upset about and would not have wanted this. 

As much as I dislike Colette and don’t greet her tendency to get attracted to the guys that are clearly taken (don’t forget she had an eye for Nero first), to say the least, it annoys the hell out of me that everyone blames her. Hello? Jax isn’t exactly blameless here?!?! He easily could’ve said NO. What would Colette have done?! forced herself on him?! give me a break. People are so quick to blame women for the shit that men build the foundation for. 

I feel exactly the same way about the Ima situation. Ima WAS dumb but it wasn’t as if both Opie and Jax hadn’t made a conscious decision to sleep with her. Jax rearranging Ima’s face, calling her a wh*re and telling her to stay away from his family was unwarranted to say the least considering that he brought her in the clubhouse, into his life and inadvertently, everyone else’s.

Gods know how much I love Jax Teller but dude, DUDE! like I could never excuse such shitty behavior of his and whoever does is an utter misogynist and a victim of toxic masculinity. Jax wouldn’t have been any less intimidating or any less biker-y without being a pathological cheater. He could’ve broken Tara’s heart a million different ways, could’ve dealt with his cowardly issues with a million different distractions and coping mechanisms. Why did it have to be constant infidelity? 

Honestly, that’s so embarrassing of you, Jax.

What breaks my heart the most is the fact that Tara went back to him every single time even though she clearly stated that cheating was a deal-breaker for her. That’s how much she loved him but at the end of the day, that’s a woman written by a m*n; fulfilling this sick male fantasy that the woman has to be loyal to the man no matter what.

Damn, I needed to say all that. I’m rewatching like for the 5th time I think and I am so so angry. Now that I’m older I see things more clearly which makes me even more angry. 

I don’t know what the take-away is from this y’all but I can say one thing: Tara Knowles-Teller, my sweet, beautiful angel, deserved the best version of her husband. Not that second-hand cheap copy of him. 

[thegreatobsesso]

Word find tag (hold, fold, cold, and told)

Tagged by my talented friend, the glorious, the illustrious, the wintery, wordy @winterandwords :D

hold

Callie POV

It wasn’t so much that he was thinking at her, he just wasn’t stopping her from hearing, and the stream of misery, of abject failure, froze her solid. 

“What’s wrong?” asked the beautiful man beneath her. 

But Bennett couldn’t turn it off like she could and it was too much to hold. Too many minds screaming into his, too much pain for one small heart. Too much being defeated because he cared the most. Too much, too much.

She cursed and allowed herself a split second to grieve. “I forgot,” she said. “I, uhh, I need to be somewhere.” 

Perfectly normal thing, she chided herself, remembering a prior engagement when you’ve got someone’s cock in your hand. A stunning liar, she was, and a stranger to herself to boot because she found herself in Bennett’s quarters when she could have been, would have been, getting plowed by the finest piece of ass in a hundred miles. 

“You didn’t have to come,” Bennett sniffled.

“I did,” she said, choosing not to comment on the terrible choice of words. 

fold

Callie POV

Time to say goodbye to the suit. 

It was a generic thing, given to her for the hearing, too big in the shoulders and too small at the waist. But it was still probably nicer than anything she’d ever wear again. A moment of mourning was justified. 

They wouldn’t give her more than that - a roomful of watchful eyes waited for her to take it off, indifferent technicians and stoic guards whose hands lingered near their weapons, their belts sagging with the weight of guns and batons. They needed them - they were typs. 

Non-magicians, as it were - ain’t that a laugh? All the guards at the big scary magician prison and not one of them a magician themselves. They couldn’t be - if they were, the metal the whole place was built from would make them sick and probably drive them insane, like it was doing for her now - turning her insides all slippery and scrambled, and it was the waretamium doing it, and not the unfolding realization this was where she would spend the rest of her life. 

cold

Riley POV

Riley Silver was in a good mood. 

This latest round of suppressants was actually doing something. Patching the leaks to the other world, if she was gonna get cute about it, and you know what? She just might. 

Because that was how good she felt without that constant creepy-crawly tug on her consciousness. 

She had to fight for this particular medicine. It was strong stuff, still in clinical trials and definitely not intended for long-term use, but right now, walking up the bridge to Delaney School of Magic with a small group of other arrivals, she didn’t even care. She could feel the texture of the cobblestone through her rubber-bottomed boots. She could smell the snow, crystalline and clean. She could smell the color white.

She understood, too, why Peter told her to bring layers. She’d never quite felt cold like this, and she couldn’t say she hated it. In fact, and maybe this was just the suppressants talking, she found it steadying. Clarifying. Comforting, being bundled up like this in the midst of it. 

(Riley, young and on drugs, is only featured in one chapter and it’s very dear to me because she’s almost relaxed and so OOC 😂)

told

Simon POV

“Did you hit your head?” Flora asked as she stood in the archway. 

“No,” he said. “Maybe. I don’t think so.” 

“You don’t remember?” 

He pulled smoke deep into his lungs and let the cold air cut through his tattered clothes. “A lot happened down there.” 

“Alright,” she said. “Touch your finger to your nose and walk a straight line to me.” 

He didn’t want to, for no other reason than he was told. “Why?” 

“Because you’re saying things that don’t make sense and indicating gaps in your memory. I’m trying to make sure you don’t have a concussion.” 

He laughed, sniffled. It was so much worse than that. 

“I don’t have a concussion, I have Callie.” He motioned to his head with his only good hand left, clutching the cigarette in it like a lifeline. How did she manage being herself? He was only half-her and he was drunk, overwhelmed, giddy and grieving all at once. 

“Simon,” Flora said evenly, “I don’t care if you have the entire population of the Western hemisphere in there. Show me you can walk a straight line.” 

(God bless Flora, the only one who can bring the energy down when Simon is having a Callie-induced nervous breakdown 💕)

Tagging @avrablake, @drippingmoon, @dontjudgemeimawriter, @diphthongsfordays and @afoolandathief to the play with word find game with bury, burden, burn and buy 😚

[tamtam-go92]

Monday

Linnea really felt like the odd one out in this family. While they all were carefree and obnoxious, she really had ambitions and tried to get the family fortune back. She couldn't take a single canned meal in her life again.

But there was a problem...

Delaney: I thought you'd don't like canned food? Linnea: Shut up, I feel unwell!

Sandwiches were better than canned food. Maybe her stomach would stop acting up if she ate something better.

Hadley: Mind if I join you?

Linnea never felt for her twin sister, like she heard about other twin relationships. But maybe Hadley was the least worse out of her family.

Hadley: Linnea, I think I'm pregnant.

Linnea almost choked. This couldn't be, could it?

Linnea: A-are you sure? 'cause... *caught* I suspect I might also be... Hadley: Are you serious? *laughing* Oh my we really are twins, aren't we?

Linnea didn't really see what was so funny about this...

Linnea: Hadley, I- I don't want to be a mother. I have plans, I have ambitions. And the father *scoff* I can't rely on him. Hadley: Who is the father..? Linnea: Do I really have to tell you? Hadley: Don't tell me you also slept with him? Linnea: Seb is also the father of YOUR baby? Hadley: I guess so... Linnea: Oh this is great...

So... This call was just perfect...

Linnea had to confront him. Sebastian had to make a decision!

Just that decision-making isn't Sebastian's strength.

Yeah, that meeting really helped not a bit.

At least some sims had fun - even if they instantly got their comeuppance.

There was a lot of talking after this outing. But in the end the twin sisters made a decision on what to do concerning the baby-problem.

[kiranerysismyhero]

Why do there have to be girls?

For the @startrekwintergiftexchange

This is for @rrr-nightingale​ from the prompt of Tom Paris/Harry Kim pre-slash. I went with a personal log from Harry's perspective. It's my first time writing for this pairing so I hope you like it!

Personal log, ensign Harry Kim, stardate… I’m not sure, actually. It’s been a couple weeks since we destroyed the Caretaker’s array. I haven’t had a great sense of time since we ended up here. Maybe there’s something the Ocampans dosed me with that’s still working its way out of my system. Maybe it’s just because nothing about any of this has felt real. 

Spending so much time in the holodeck probably doesn’t help with that. I don’t know, I guess it’s just what Tom always seems to want to do. He seems so… glib about everything that’s going on. Already settling in on the ship we’ll be on for the next 40 years, drafting his own holoprograms and making himself at home. I get the sense he doesn’t have so much to want to get back home to. Real home I mean, the Alpha Quadrant. Earth. Tom is no worse off out here than he was back in Federation prison I suppose. 

I guess that’s why I hang around him. When I’m alone, all I can think about is how vastly far we are from… from everything. From Federation space, from my parents and… but Tom’s right here. He stays in the here and now, even when we’re technically in a historical program. Ha. He’s in the moment, I mean. Focused on what’s going to bring him a little fun in the near future. He brings me into it, drags me out of my own head. Keeps telling me that worrying about the distance isn’t going to get us back any faster, that there’s no use in being miserable in the meantime. I do appreciate that. 

I wish… I question his methods sometimes, though. I mean, I have a girlfriend back home! I’m not going to start dating one of the Delaney sisters for him just because they’re a “package deal.” Ugh. I don’t care for the way Tom talks about women sometimes. It’s like he’s trying too hard, covering for something, just… too much. Why do we have to bother with all the pretense of setting up a whole romantic charade with a couple of women that even Tom would admit he knows little about? 

I gotta say, I much prefer when we’re just… together. Like, like when he roped me in to “tuning up” one of the shuttlecraft without authorization. It was exciting, that feeling of not wanting to be caught before we could prove that the new manifolds were an improvement. I wasn’t thinking about the journey ahead of us. Just focused on the task, on the moment. Keeping an eye on the door, watching him work, passing him a different tool every once in a while. He kept talking through what he was doing, all that bravado and pride in his work. It rubs off on you a little bit, that confidence. Er, no, I can be confident! I don’t need help being confident. Tom’s got a, uh… an assuredness. I mean he was laying on his back and he still had this sense of standing tall. It’s not always there, looking at Tom, but it is when he’s in pilot mode. I was kind of studying him I guess, the way he held himself as he shifted position beneath the engine, the way his chest rose and fell as he breathed harder with exertion, the way his sweat made his undershirt cling a little… 

He did catch me staring, heh. He had something clever to say about it, but I can’t remember what it was. Too flustered to listen, I guess. Heh. Hrrm. Anyway. I didn’t have to come up with a retort or anything because B’Elanna walked in on us messing with the shuttlecraft. I guess I hadn’t been paying attention to the corridor while I was… distracted. 

…ugh. Great personal log, Harry. Fine example of a Starfleet officer, Harry. 

I’ll record a better one later. Tom’s shift at the helm only barely overlaps with my time on the bridge today, so I want to get there early. I mean, punctuality reflects well on… *sigh* Who am I kidding? Computer, end personal log.



[mangom1lk]

ideal sonic voice cast

(disclaimer: i have not seen prime so i will not be considering those voices)

sonic: this is the only one i really have to think about for an extended period of time. it really comes down to how you write the character. sonic is pretty flexible outside of some core traits. i like max mittelman and i also like ryan drummond. jason griffith eventually became great imo but i would probably not ask for him back (not as sonic, anyway...)

tails: colleen o'shaughnessy. every tails voice actor has improved on the last imo, colleen is great

knuckles: dan green. i get the scott drier love but he plays knux a bit too flatly for my tastes. dan green is quintessential knuckles to me. travis willingham was always perfectly fine though not quite to dan green's standard for me, and while i do really respect dave b. mitchell's attempt i just don't think he sounds quite right. he'd be a good pick for boom knuckles though... they really need to merge the boom stuff that worked into the mainline series

shadow: jason griffith. again, respect to david humphrey, but he's not for me. my issue is that his line reads just sound kinda weird a lot of the time? he has a pretty good shadow voice, but jason's always been pretty great as shadow even back in ShTH. kirk thornton is... fine, but you can tell he's an older guy and he speaks a little slowly for my liking. (though if we're fancasting, mr. chongoblog doesn't do too bad a job either... 😳)

rouge: kathleen delaney, hands down. lani manella was alright but i feel like her rouge voice is a bit basic? karen strassman just sounds awful, I'm sorry. she's the embodiment of post-Gens rouge where they made her sex appeal her only trait and cut out everything else. and that's basically the voice strassman does. if they restored her character in future titles she would not be a good pick.

omega: i have no idea? i feel like almost anyone could do a good omega voice given good direction and a proper voice filter. even maddie blaustien's 06 performance sounds pretty good after being sped up and filtered like in p-06. john st. john is my favorite but i could go with anyone here

amy: i like the performances of jennifer duliard and lisa ortiz in the games about equal. lisa ortiz seems to have lost the voice however? she came back for sonic and tails r and she sounds pretty different in that, in a worse way. cindy robinson is another miscast like roger craig smith, though a good pick for boom amy. modern amy has very little character because i guess they figured the sonic crush wouldn't go over well these days?

cream: 🤷‍♀️

big: please can we get john st john back 😭 whoever voices him in frontiers just does not do a good job

eggman: i love mike pollock just as much as the rest of you but... god, i miss deem bristow. that dude had RANGE. and i LOVE his eggman performances. they're so good. he sounds so threatening in one breath and maniacal in the next, i love it. eggman doesn't really have that kind of writing lately which isn't a problem but it is something i miss

silver: pete capella. quinton flynn sounds perfectly okay, though a bit softer which i don't feel really fits silver. whoever the current voice is, bryce... something? i've heard clips of him and i REALLY do not like those. capella is peak silver imo.

blaze: bella hudson. her modern actress doesn't sound quite right

[sunakore]

hi, this has nothing to do with my main OCs, it's just a random drabble of 700 or so words. i doubt im gonna write first person pov very often. oh and im maybe gonna be posting some info on my main OCs soon btw :DD)

I clicked the record button.

Static flittered in the flatscreens. A few of them, the only ones still working, webbed with cracks and glowed in warning. They flashed, on and on, alarms shooting through my eardrums. I pressed a hand to my skull.

"Hello?" I began. Looming silence pressed over me, making me shiver. The silence, with only a few disturbances, made me feel nervous. For some reason, I felt like that eye was watching over me again. Blinking, yet never breaking away. Observing every one of my movements.

I cleared my throat. I figured silence wouldn't be much to go from—and that was if someone ever did find this recording. "My name is Delaney Mitch. I'm a marine biologist...pretty new, actually. I only started about..ah, a year or two ago? I was a big deal, apparently."

I drummed my fingers against the table. It was cluttered with dust and rubble that none of the crew bothered to clean. After all, we had bigger matters to focus on. "Amphitrite, our submersible, lost all contact with the surface a few months ago."

"We don't know what happened," I said. When red surged through the common lounge, I remembered our captain swearing worse than a sailor and barking orders. We were all in a frenzied panic, and I scanned the sonars only to find that nothing had hit us. "It was so...sudden. Autumn believes that something hit us."

I looked around, making sure that nobody had somehow busted through the lock of my door. It remained clamped shut. I leaned into the recorder, my voice falling to a whisper. "But honestly? I think that it was a crew member. We must've been attacked from the inside."

The thought first came to me when I lied on the ice-block of my floor. It was absurd. All of the crew had been so eager to take to sea, chew away at the mystery in the veil of water. We were so close. To think that someone would try to take all of us down...

But maybe it made sense. After all, it would've connected with what happened a month before the sabotage.

I tried to communicate with the captain. But he seemed so stressed. When I went up to him in a determined stride, I noticed the weariness entwined with his constant exhaustion. He ran a hand through tangled hair, and in an anguished voice, he had said, "Not now, Del."

"I didn't tell him." I paused when I realized how vague that must've sounded. The ache rapping against my skull was beginning to disorient me. "The...the captain, I mean. Captain Osel Coleman. I don't think we can do anything to begin with, so. We have no way of getting back to surface level, unless we wait to be searched for."

"And..." I pinched the bridge of my nose, releasing a frustrated sigh. "If we make any attempts to move, we'll implode. The integrity of the hull is damaged, and we're at least 20,000-ish feet down. The pressure is already worsening all the damage. Making it to the surface? There's no chance."

We all knew it. The captain knew it most, from the way he beat around the bush and never gave a direct answer.  He would avoid the soul-crushing reality they had drowned themselves in. So he would never look out at the sea, and would only turn to the stash of booze he had saved for months. I would have to drag him out myself sometimes to get him to do anything.

Koneho always called him lazy. Said the captain was a good-for-nothing if he couldn't even lead his own crew. I was afraid to admit he was right. We were heading for the ferryboat of Death, and the captain would do nothing but mope in his quarters all day.

"I don't know what to do," I muttered. "Everyone's arguing, and someone might kill us before we can get help. Of course, the generators are running, and it'll be a good few months before our power is sapped. The reactor was damaged in the..probably sabotage, and we only have so many options."

I stared down at the recorder. Perhaps this would be my last log, or far from it. Maybe this was all for nothing. It definitely was an excuse to make me feel better, allow me to think that maybe someone will find at least a trace of us.

"Fuck it all." I ended the recording and slammed a fist against the desk. My hands curled into my palms. "We can't just die."