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theothernads · 3 months ago

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౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ ❛❛ ᶜʰᵃᵖᵗᵉʳ ⁶: 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐀 𝐒𝐔𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐎 ❞ || YJW

☰ ❛❛ 𝖮𝗉𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗂𝗍𝖾𝗌❞ Y.JW.

𝘚𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴: 𐙚 ⋆ ｡ ˚:

Yn believed in logic. Jungwon believed in understanding his emotions. Their friends knew they would get into petty arguments. All in all, they desire a successful university life, away from their past and families. However, when murders appear in the premises of their own school, and the past comes back to meet them, they find a link and team up with their logic and emotions to find out the culprit and resume their normal lives. But, no one guaranteed their safety and their feelings for each other.

ᯓᡣ𐭩𝖸𝖺𝗇𝗀 𝖩𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗐𝗈𝗇 × 𝖿𝖾𝗆𝖺𝗅𝖾!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 ౨ৎ. ｡˚

☰ TAGS: college au, enhypen smau, jungwon+reader, thriller, yandere themes, crime, slow-burn, angst

╰┈➤𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗 (comment or give an ask)

𐙚 ◦ Full warnings on m.list page

╰┈➤ [ REBLOGS and COMMENTS are appreciated]

Wc: 2.09k

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A STUDY CAFÉ AFTER TWO HOURS OF CLASS WAS A BREATHER. A way for everyone to cool the foggy effect of lecture notes and the languid speech of the professor. You could have almost fallen asleep atop your laptop hadn't it been for Jungwon clearing his throat.

Jay stated that he needed to tell everyone something, so no one could resist the urge to gather together in the neat and cream-coloured, study room. The large, white table was soon littered with laptops and the recent book everyone was reading; eventually, everyone sat down.

Jay leaned forward on his elbows once he caught everyone's attention. "I was talking to Jake this morning, and guess what?"

No one spoke a word upon seeing the slight dapple of despaire on Jay's face so, he continued.

"The case where we found that dead man, may be closed, like, forever."

The heavy silence was suffocating, so many unspoken words mixing in the air as everyone stilled. Jay could have thought he was staring at a paused video until Yunjin scoffed, brows buried deep downwards, reflecting yours and Jungwon's reaction.

"You must be kidding," she said quietly as she crossed her arms and quelled the silence. The unpleasant news forced your eyes to wander anywhere but Jay, rocks of anxiety anchoring your mind down. Jungwon remained silent.

"Yeah, I'm not kidding," Jay declared once more to everyone's dismay, gazing back at his lit laptop.

Jay continued to explain that in the whirlwind of the murder case, the route to who the culprit is was hidden by too many obstacles that the police didn't know how to tackle: no footprints, no cameras and no witnesses. It was a dead end.

Scaring yourself was not an option, so you tried desperately to subdue that train of thought and grasp at anything logical despite your own intuition.

"Well, if they closed down the case, I guess, they tried to take everyone's interest at heart." You fiddled with your pen, flicking it vigorously to-and-fro as silence pervaded the study room once more.

"It's just strange. They couldn't find... anything?" Jungwon urged Jay, confusion entangled in his tone. Uncertain, his friend let out a shaky sigh.

"It's probably nothing, as Yn said. Maybe it is genuinely not a threat to us or the university," Jay insisted, trying to put confidence in your weak excuse. Not much was said as Yunjin shrugged, languid.

"I guess so. Whatever. I'm done with that shit. Let's just work," Yunjin announced with a new determination, swerving away from the morose topic and onto becoming academic weapons for the rest of the semester.

Everyone agreed and dived into their work. Ten minutes passed and Jungwon decided to call his good classmate for the upcoming film project. Through the screen, he saw Taehyun's boba eyes and the profuse blinks to make sure the actual facetime was working.

Jungwon wasn't looking but he swiped a hand through his hair and allowed Taehyun to catch a glimpse of Jungwon's meticulously clean nails. Taehyun snickered, causing Jungwon to incredulously raise an eyebrow to the other.

"What are you laughing at?" Jungwon asked, bewildered. Taehyun waved a dismssive hand, clearly trying to conceal his humour. Upon seeing Jungwon's unyielding expression, he finally gave in.

"No - I just saw your nails and they look pretty. Are you going to do them again," Taehyun chimed with mischief, making you, Yunjin and Jay chuckle a little under your breaths. Only Jungwon forlornly crossed his arms and directed his glare at the latter on the screen.

"Seriously?"

Within a second, Taehyun's smile dropped and nodded with a deadpan expression. "Yes."

Whilst you and the others were laughing at the comical situation, Jungwon found it far from that; irritated, his frown remained as he pulled up the page for the assignment.

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Days passed and you were walking along with Minji, Chaewon and Heeseung. Psychology class evoked a session of inevitable ranting that everyone thoroughly required. It was a routine to go through.

The front area of the school was where you and the others were headed, the breeze brushing through your locks; it was a refreshing way to liberate the clouding information from the unpleasant lectures.

More booths and kiosks littered the place, colours displayed from the banners hung meticulously on the stands. Each one delivering the name of the club and the unavoidable prices to capitvate the future customers.

You walked longside Chaewon until you reached the wooden table that was occupied by Yunjin, Jay and Jungwon. Apart from your friends, there were definitely more people out there - more near the platform resembling the stage. Your gaze was not stuck there for long to see who was on it, but you were drawn back to Yunjin and Chaewon squealing in delight.

You stood beside Minji and observed them fussing, a small speck of apprehension seeping into their faces from the way Yunjin ran a hand through her hair.

"I cannot believe we get to dance at the festival, Chae."

"You're dancing as well and I didn't know?" you exclaimed to the blonde girl, your jaw dropped. Chaewon nodded with a modest smile.

"Yeah, Yunjin and I dance with some other girls," She said and was accompanied with an enthusiastic nod from Yunjin. Crossing your arms, you sent a cheeky smile to Chaewon.

"I didn't know you dance."

Chaewon shrugged, almost innocently with her eyes morphing into cheerful crescents when she grinned - as if she didn't know what you were even talking about. "I thought I said so."

On the other hand, Jay placed his phone down with a knowing smile when he glanced ateveryone. Heeseung, sitting opposite him, grimaced at the expression Jay had.

"Why are you smiling like that?" Heeseung asked, disgruntled. A glare was all that Jay delivered to the latter.

"Well, I am also expressing my excitement since I'm also dancing - but with a dude called 'K'," Jay explained with excitement tainting his voice. The name threw everyone, but Chaewon and Yunjin, off.

"K?" you uttered, not even burying the incredulity that crept up your tone. Even Heeseung tilted his head, but Jay dsmissively waved his hand.

"I wasn't the one that named him - anyway, it's short and snappy."

"Yeah - in text," Heeseung remarked with a snort, resulting a terse slap in the back of the head by Minji. A yelp slipped past his lips as he pacified the slight pang in his skull.

"Ow, what the fvck?"

When the conversation reached its end and everyone was about to art their ways, a static screech washed over the entirety of the courtyard. Everyone curtly halted, heads turning, and a wince escaped your lips.

The source was at the stage, the speakers blaring a man's voice; the male figure had black-rimmed glasses, jet-black hair brushed in a tiny man bun and brown eyes that held this hollow calmness in them. When you scanned over his features more, you discovered he was middle-aged and he was flanked by some other people behind him. There was this unnerving, small smile he had that disrupted the serene waves of thoughts within you.

The man patted the mic softly and soft bass sounds followed after it, catching the attention of everyone there. You couldn't look away now that the uncertainty simmered in your stomach.

Who the fvck was this?

As if the man heard your inner monologue, his voice dispersed from the speakers.

"Hello. You are probably wondering who I am. I want to introduce myself as Moon Minseok, the sponsor of the school."

Those eyes that were roaming from booth to booth landed on you and the others. No words were exchanged but everyone acknowledged the dubious shiver prowling down everyone's spine.

It forced you to swiftly divert your gaze into something that was not worthy of attention - much like everyone else. You tried to drown out the remnants of the speech.

You don't even know when the speech ended, but you and Jungwon departed ways together to get to the gardening booth. Danielle was already there and directed you to simply tag the prices to each gardening product before she also sauntered away.

It was easy enough.

So, you and Jungwon found yourselves sitting in the comfortable silence, the subtle breeze caressing yours and his clothes whilst the sunlight feebly seeped through the thick blankets of clouds.

The little cactuses and ferns were adorably small, the plastic wrapped around it in a way that didn't bend their leaves or figures. You couldn't help but smile at the miniature, clay pots.

It was almost calming in a way until a multitude of nefarious footsteps approched the gardening booth, making you and Jungwon curiously glance up.

There was clear tension in your muscles when those empty eyes, of none other than Minseok, landed on you and Jungwon. Behind him, the same people flanked him, tablets in their hands, and the principal also accompanying him. The headmaster looked as if he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

It appeared amusing to you, but you didn't react and, instead, gave a short glance to Jungwon, who also gave a sceptical look back.

With the oncoming footsteps, you and Jungwon politely bowed despite the clear tension pervading the air. It was almost difficult to even make eye contact.

Minseok had a confident gait, each step on the grounds of campus made his; this mellow smile curved onto his lips whilst he had his hands behind his back. His eyes possessed that icy calmness that made your voice dig back into your throat.

"The gardening club," the principal spoke, gesturing to you and Jungwon awkwardly standing there behind the table full of tagged garden products.

You didn't want to speak, neither did Jungwon. Both you and him had your thoughts drifitng into space. Realising you were just tentatively staring, you captured the wandering thoughts and brought yourself back to reality.

"Um... hello," you uttered, voice coming out much quieter than you wanted. Jungwon was about to give you a relentless side-eye but Minseok stepped forward and ran his gaze over the various assortments of petite plants commonly grown within the university.

The silence seemed to disturb the principal a lot more, the nervousness dissolving into his face; he shifted in his place, hands rubbing over the knuckles of his other. Maybe he was sweating if you observed closely enough to the crown of his head.

Minseok met your eyes in a second and you swear your heartbeat spiked up, clutching your vocal chords and forcing you to just awkwardly smile. You had the fierce urge to run away.

"My mother would love these. These are lovely," he began to say. There was a insincere smile in your smile, but he didn't need to know that. Shrewd, Jungwon fiddled with the sleeves of his hoodie, nails digging into the plush fabric.

"She has good taste in plants," you stated whilst your own gaze ran over the green stems and the soil. Minseok gave a small, humoured laugh.

"She had good taste," he corrected you and immediately sending heat to flood your cheeks and neck. You could tell the principal was probably itching to take Minseok away from your clumsy obliviousness.

"I'm so sorry," you mumbled, bowing in slight apology. You just wanted the eart to swallow you up. Minseok shook his head as if it was nothing serious, and smiled with that tranquil expression again.

"It's fine, she can't hear us, " he responded with mirth to your humiliated state. Jungwon could have scoffed to your mistake, but his muscles were too frozen with tension to even move. And, he didn't know why.

After Minseo recieved silence from you, he picked up one of the plastic-wrapped plants. "She was a lovely woman. She tended to her garden, decorating the house with ridiculous kinds. It's endearing now since she is now buried with them."

It was a depressing conversation so much so that you were holding a breath as Jungwon gave a subtle side-eye.

"I learned from that moment that people must treasure what they have. You may lose the," Minseok added on, gaze flickering to Jungwon. Following his gaze briefly, you noticed the way Jungwon's eyes darted nervously, jaw slightly clenched.

You didn't have the time to ask if he was okay since Minseok dug a hand into his pocket and pulled out some notes to hand it to you. It was a little daunting, and you didn't know whether to take it since he was offering money that was worth more than what was displayed on the small plant.

From the corner of your eye, the principal gesticulated that you should take it. Not wanting to embarrass yourself anymore, you gave a small smile before taking the money.

"Keep the change," he said, holding the plant.

"Thank you," you murmured, to which Minseok curled his smile a little more, eyes scanning over your features as if he was trying to grasp something off it.

The brief silence was cut off when one of his advisors sauntered to Minseok, a ringing phone in hand. Minseok's gaze faltered before he gave a courteous nod to you, a brief glance to Jungwon and taking the advisor's phone. Then, like the wind, he walked away with the principal.

When they were far enough, you looked to the 10,000 won worth of notes. It was a simple interaction but enough to leave you still drifting in your thoughts. Curious, you glanced to Jungwon, who was still frozen.

You wondered if he was even breathing.

"Jungwon?" you nudged his elbow a little, causing him to flinch and look down at you. The brief discomfort stayed rooted in his eyes, jaw still clenched.

This time, you wrapped your fingers gently around his forearm to nudge him again with bewilderment. "You okay?"

Jungon snapped out of the foggy daze and nodded. A deep breath escaped him, shoulders sagging finally and discomfort melting away when he registered the soft grip of your hand.

"Yeah, I'm fine. He just seems a little... odd, don't you think?"

The return of his voice did addle you a little, but you didn't dare mention it, not wanting to ignite whatever worry was just extinguished. Your hand stopped holding his forearm.

"Yeah," you agreed, seeing Minseok and the principal in the far distance, "I think so too."

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╰┈➤ A/n: omg, heeyy. My life has been so hectic that I wanted to just- 💀👍🏼. Anyways, still in a hectic moment, but I managed to update chapter 6. Didn't feel amazing while writing it but I tried. And I'm so sorry if the picture quality basically decreased. Idk why. But, pls tell me how it was <3

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Taglist: @jwonistic @ilovejungwonandhaechan @sincerely-sun

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snowdice · 2 months ago

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Big Bang Editing Story [Day 125]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story years ago, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag ‘proofread stories.’ I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41 Part 42 Part 43 Part 44 Part 45 Part 46 Part 47 Part 48 Part 49 Part 50 Part 51 Part 52 Part 53 Part 54 Part 55

We probably won't finish the epilogue tonight, but let's see!

Chapter 56 (Thomas)

“Good day for a picnic,” Helen commented as she handed over the basket Thomas had requested from her a few days before. He was taking Logan, Patton, and Virgil to the cliffs today and it was perfect weather for it. Spring was truly here, which meant that those of Thomas’s duties that had laid dormant over the harsh winter were about to start up again.

The world had been on pause for a bit considering no armies or agents from any kingdom could get through the snow the last few months, but the concerns of last fall were showing their heads once again.

Thomas had just gotten word a day ago that the queen of Lamir had routed out a second assassin hiding in her ranks over the winter. The assassin had been sent shortly after it was made clear that the queen wouldn’t bow down after the assassination of her mother. Luckily, the assassin sent for Queen Cecil had not managed to complete her mission during the winter months.

While there had been no similar attempt on Prijaznia soil, Thomas couldn’t help but feel it was only a matter of time now that the snow had melted. They were already working on increasing security in the coming weeks and, though it was doubtful an assassin had managed to hide in the castle all winter without revealing themselves, they’d be closely scrutinizing all of the newer staff members.

It would be a stressful time in the coming months, which is why, despite everything Thomas needed to do, he was still going to take his son and his son’s friends on a picnic today. Logan had already started taking on royal duties as of late, but he still hadn’t taken them all on quite yet. Considering this was last summer before Logan was of age, they should at least try to take advantage of it where they could. Patton was a year younger, but the sentiment held for him as well.

Then there was Virgil. Despite their best efforts, they still didn’t know enough about Virgil, but Thomas was fairly sure he’d never had a summer to enjoy until now.

“Thanks for prepping lunch for us,” Thomas said to Helen with a smile.

“No problem,” she said waving them off. “I put in some of Virgil’s favorites.”

“Great,” Thomas said. “Do you know where the kids are?”

“Patton said they were going to go pet the cats, so I’d guess they’re in the gardens.”

Thomas thanked her again and told her to have a good day before exiting the kitchen. There was a nearby door that led straight towards the part of the gardens Patton and Logan had always favored. He figured they’d either still be around there, or they would have wandered towards the stables by now knowing that they’d be taking horses to the cliffs. So, he decided to simply walk the normal path from the door to the stable, hoping to find them.

His prediction ended up being hilariously correct. They were indeed on the path Thomas had chosen. It was clear they (or at least Logan) were attempting to make it to the stable. However, as was typical, a portion of the party had been waylaid by whimsy.

Logan was standing further down the path, arms crossed and frowning as he watched his friends. Patton and Virgil were surrounded by cats. Patton was sitting down, holding two of them in his lap and watching Virgil’s legs being swarmed by the rest of them, maybe two dozen in total.

Virgil looked confused, but not unhappy about the presence of so many cats. He was leaning down to try to pet them all.

Logan met Thomas’s eyes as he approached and waved a frustrated hand at the two of them. Logan couldn’t help but smile.

“Virgil fed one of them,” Logan complained as though he wanted Thomas to somehow go into the past and prevent this crime.

Patton and Virgil looked over at Thomas, noticing him when Logan addressed him.

“You’re going to make Princess Marisol jealous,” Thomas said. Logan frowned at Thomas as he used the ‘Princess’ label for the cat.

“Princess Marisol decided not to come,” Virgil said with a shrug. He continued to pet one of the cats.

“She’s probably sleeping on my pillow,” Logan said, sounding grumpy.

Thomas just chuckled. Princess Marisol was technically Logan’s cat, at least that’s what the kids said, and she did spend much of her time in the royal rooms. However, she was very clearly actually Virgil’s cat. Virgil just spent a lot of time in the royal wing as well.

In fact, Thomas still didn’t know where Virgil was supposed to be sleeping. He and Mr. Deknis had gone so far as to tail him a couple of times, but he always ended up sleeping in Logan’s room those nights.

Knowing Virgil, he might just sleep in the walls. Though that still did not answer the question of where his parents or guardians were. They still had not figured it out. Thomas would assume he was an orphan who’d snuck onto castle grounds for safety, but Virgil had told Mr. Deknis during their first meeting that he was supposed to be in the castle, and it had not been a lie.

Then again, it had slowly become apparent that Virgil was good at dodging the multrum’s powers. It was starting to seem more likely that he’d somehow inserted a second meaning into his answer to Mr. Deknis that night than he somehow had some ghost guardian no one was able to locate working in the castle.

“She deserves the pillow more than you,” Virgil said, bringing Thomas’s thoughts back to the situation at hand. The look of audacity on Logan’s face made Thomas chuckle.

Thomas cut in before it could become a fight. “I could get Princess Marisol a pillow, so she doesn’t sleep on yours. Or we can get you a new pillow if you’d prefer, Logan.”

“It’s not about the pillow for her,” Logan argued. “It’s about her inflated sense of superiority.”

“She deserves it,” Virgil declared. Thomas could tell he was just trying to rile Logan up, and Thomas was sure Logan knew it too, but still his son reacted exactly in the way Virgil wanted him to.

“You have enabled and encouraged this behavior from the start!” Logan seethed.

“She’s a princess.”

“She is not a princess!”

Patton shook his head while squeezing the cats in his arms, completely used to this behavior. He ran a chin idly over one of the cat’s heads while watching the argument.

“We’re never going to make it to the picnic at this rate,” Thomas said to him, “and after your mother made all of this wonderful food.”

“You’re the dad,” Patton said. “Make them stop.”

And, of course, Patton did just mean that he was Logan’s dad with that statement. However, when he glanced back up at the silly argument still going on between his son and the cat covered boy, it did almost look like a fight between siblings.

Especially with the dark hair and stubborn but mischievous look in Virgil’s eyes, Thomas could almost imagine the boy being his own child.

He shook away the thoughts and glanced at the picnic basket in his hand.

“We do have a lot of food in this basket,” Thomas said, pitching his voice up so that Logan (and more importantly) Virgil would hear them clearly.

Virgil immediately turned to look at him, abandoning all interest in antagonizing Logan to look at the basket curiously.

Thomas was never sure if he should be amused or worried about how food motivated Virgil often was.

“What’s in the basket?” Virgil asked.

“I’m not sure,” Thomas said. “Patton’s mom made it. We’ll just have to see once we get to the picnic area.”

Virgil nodded in understanding and began to gently extract himself from the droves of cats. Logan rolled his eyes, but didn’t seem inclined to continue the argument he’d been dragged into. Virgil and Patton got to their feet, and they continued on their way towards the stables.

The horses Thomas had requested be prepared for their trip were already in saddles, though the stable hand who had been handling Mr. Apples seemed a bit dirtier and more exhausted than the rest.

The stable hand seemed as happy to hand Mr. Apples over to Virgil as Virgil was to have Mr. Apples handed over to him. Thomas received Bella with a smile and Logan and Patton got their own horses as well.

The cliffs were about half an hour's ride from the main castle. There was a mostly well-maintained path to them, though it was easy to get lost if one didn’t know the way. Mr. Apples knew the way perhaps better than Thomas himself and seemed annoyed by the fact that Thomas was trying to lead the way. Virgil and Thomas ended up side-by-side whenever the path allowed it to placate him.

Thomas still marveled at how willing Mr. Apples was to let Virgil ride him, especially when he tossed his head in Thomas’s direction, a horse’s equivalent of giving Thomas a stink-eye.

“Are you excited for the picnic?” Thomas asked the boy beside him.

Virgil glanced over at him and nodded.

“I am too,” Thomas said. “It’s always beautiful this time of year. I’m glad I could find the time to take you all there this year.”

“Are you very busy?” Virgil asked curiously.

“I am king,” Thomas reminded, “and now that the world isn’t snowed in anymore things will be busy.”

“With the war?” Virgil asked.

Thomas paused for a few seconds. “Yes,” he confirmed. “With the war, but you don’t need to worry about that.”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Virgil asked.

“You’re just a kid,” Thomas said.

“I’m 14,” Virgil said.

Thomas glanced at him. “Exactly,” he said, “a kid, and luckily, you’re in a place that can afford you the luxury of being one.”

“What do you mean?”

“The war has been mainly fought on Mocnejsi soil in recent years. Our boarders have held strong against invasions. Unless something goes horribly wrong suddenly, it would take a long time for the main conflict to get here. The only real threat in the castle would be assassins sent after me personally.”

“Right,” Virgil said. There was an awkward pause in conversation before he spoke again. “You’re winning the war then?” he asked.

“Something could always happen,” Thomas said, “but for the most part, yes, we have quite the advantage right now.”

“Oh,” Virgil said.

Thomas shook his head as they were coming up to a narrowing of the path. “Anyway, today is a day to not think about war. Today we’re going to have a lovely picnic and do some bird watching.”

“Right,” Virgil agreed from behind Thomas as Bella took the lead (to Mr. Apples discontent.)

When the path widened again, Thomas did his best to direct the topic to lighter subjects and soon they made it to the cliffs.

Chapter 57 (Virgil)

Virgil had never been to a picnic. At least, that’s what Patton had informed him when Virgil had described his past experiences of eating outdoors. Logan had agreed even though he’d admitted that the definition of “picnic” was only eating a pre-packaged meal outdoors which Virgil had done plenty of times.

From what Virgil could tell, the main difference was just how much stuff one brought to a picnic.

In addition to the basket full of food (that Virgil still hadn’t gotten to look in yet), the king had brought a large soft quilt that he had Logan and Virgil spread out on the ground for them all to sit on.

Patton and Logan had also packed some things themselves to bring along. Logan had brought along a book to read, and Patton had brought along a board game (thankfully not checkers but something Virgil did not recognize). Virgil hadn’t brought anything (except for the fire knife he was definitely not supposed to have and was definitely not letting the king see) because he hadn’t known he was supposed to bring things. He wouldn’t have known what to bring anyway.

The blanket was soft and a much better alternative to sitting on the ground, especially because, while there was grass at the top of The Cliffs, there were also a good number of rocks.

The king set the picnic basket in the middle of the blanket once it was spread out and then lowered himself down to sit on one side. Patton quickly followed him, already fiddling with some of his board game pieces, though he wasn’t setting it up yet. Virgil highly doubted that Logan was going to be allowed to read his book unless Patton eventually got bored of the game.

However, they would, hopefully, be allowed to make use of the basket the king had brought along.

Virgil followed the king and Patton’s lead and got to his knees on the blanket across the picnic basket from the king. He peered at the basket curiously.

He didn’t quite know what picnic food was, but Patton had told them they’d be getting ‘picnic food’ and he was very curious about what that meant.

King Thomas smiled at him. “Let’s see what Patton’s mom packed us, huh?” He reached for the basket and flipped it open as Logan sat next to Virgil. “There is a lot more food than usual in here,” the king said, sounding amused. “Let’s see.”

He began to pull out packaged food and glanced in each package to identify it before setting it out.

“We have a few types of mini sandwiches,” he said, putting them down, “and some pasta salad.” He set down the bowl.

“We also have… er something else.” He showed it to Logan.

“They’re hot cauliflower bites,” Logan said instantly upon seeing them. Virgil perked up in excitement. That was one of his favorite foods.

“Ah,” King Thomas said, but shrugged and set it down. “We also have two desserts apparently: cookies and mini apple pies. That last one’s a bit extra for a picnic.”

“They’re very good,” Virgil said happily.

“And we also have.” King Thomas paused, looking confused. “Chicken alfredo?”

“Yes!” Virgil said.

“Why do we have chicken alfredo for a picnic?”

“It’s a Virgil picnic,” Logan groaned. “She packed us a Virgil picnic.”

“Hey, at least momma sent us something too,” Patton said.

“I think I’ll stick to sandwiches for today,” King Thomas said. He looked at Patton and Logan. “Do either of you want…?”

“No,” Logan said. Patton shook his head.

The king nodded and offered the entire covered bowl of chicken alfredo to Virgil. “Here, this one’s yours,” he said.

“Really?” Virgil asked tentatively. It wasn’t exactly strange for people here to offer him food, and he’d expected and anticipated getting to eat on this venture, but the king of the country offering him an entire bowl of his favorite food was something else.

“It’s not really my idea of a picnic food and you seem excited for it,” King Thomas said with a warm smile, still holding it out.

Virgil took it reverently. Despite the time it had taken to get to the cliffs, the bottom of the container was still warm. Virgil assumed it was one of the heating spells the kitchen sometimes used.

“Thanks,” Virgil said, setting it in his lap.

“Of course, Virgil,” the king said.

The bowl was enough for four people to have a little bit, but for one person it was a lot. Still, Virgil was offered a little of every other food in the picnic basket (and he ate a good number of the hot cauliflower bites).

“Where do you put all of that?” the king asked when Virgil finished polishing off the chicken alfredo bowl.

Everyone else seemed to have finished eating long before Virgil, though Patton still had a small plate of grapes, and he occasionally popped one in his mouth. King Thomas was currently setting up the board game they’d brought on the blanket between all of them.

Virgil shrugged in answer to his question. “It’s good,” he said, “and I don’t want to waste any of it.”

“You know we can just take the leftovers back to the castle and eat them later,” King Thomas said. “You don’t have to eat it all now.”

Virgil just shrugged again, watching as the king set out a group of 8 figures on the board.

“Here, which character do you want to be?” the king asked Virgil, gesturing at the group of figures. Virgil had not noticed the figures were different at first glance. They were all copper colored and about the size of his thumb, but they had slightly different shapes. He squinted at them each carefully, finding they all looked like people, but with different clothing. Some worse pants and some skirts, a few had hats, and one was even carrying a book.

After a few moments, he pointed at one that looked like it had vines wrapped around its arms and was wearing a floppy hat that almost covered its eyes.

“That’s the druid,” King Thomas told him with a grin. “Good choice, and luckily not one that anyone usually fights over.” He glanced at Logan who didn’t react to his father’s gaze. He just plucked the figure clutching the book off the board for himself.

Patton and the king picked pieces for themselves. Patton picked one with an apron that kind of reminded Virgil of his mom and the king picked one that was in a suit of armor before putting the other 4 figures away.

Unlike checkers, this game wasn’t just for two people, and so no one had to sit watching people play while bored out of their mind.

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They played a practice round so Virgil could figure out how the game worked, though honestly it wasn’t that complicated, so it wasn’t really necessary.

The theme of the game was all about stealing. They were supposed to steal special tokens from other players as well as characters in the game and the first person with 20 tokens won.

The other three players argued that stealing was not the point and not the main mechanism of the game, but considering Virgil was consistently winning the entire time, he would argue they were just playing it wrong. He managed to collect 20 tokens before anyone else. In second place at this time was Logan with 9 tokens.

Logan insisted on continuing to play the game to determine 2nd and 3rd place, so Virgil ended up watching them play for a bit. Virgil didn’t mind sitting and watching other people play this game, mostly because he still had the joy of victory running in his veins.

Thomas was definitely going to lose, he noted. He kept wasting his money feeding the nonplayer characters who lived on his lands. Virgil didn’t mention this faulty strategy to him in case Virgil ever played him again.

When Logan took too long thinking about his next move, Virgil took in their surroundings.

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He’d been a bit too distracted by the prospect of food and then trying to understand (and then win) the game to truly take in The Cliffs. They were settled a good distance away from the cliffside but Virgil could still see how quickly the edge dropped off. He couldn’t see the large river he was told was at its base from where he was sitting, but he did see a few of the promised wild birds (including doves) flying around. The king had promised they’d bird watch for a bit, and Virgil figured that would happen after the game was over.

A cool spring breeze brushed across Virgil’s face, and he put his hand in his hoodie pockets to warm them. Instead, his fingers hit something icy cold.

For a moment, he didn’t remember what it was. The crescent shape of it was familiar when he put his hand over it, but he had never felt it cold before.

It was the protection charm: the first charm Virgil had ever made with Logan so many months ago. It was meant to ward off small threats as well as warn you about larger threats by changing temperature…

It had always been warm.

“What?” Patton asked, having noticed Virgil suddenly tense. Virgil, despite how he drilled into his friend’s heads to stay alert had gone soft. He’d let himself be distracted by a full belly and warm blankets and fun games.

He didn’t answer Patton. He filtered the other boy’s worried face out as well as Logan’s face as he glanced at him and the king’s still focused on the game for now. He filtered out the picnic blanket and smell of food still lingering in the air and the vine covered figure set in the middle of the board on the winner’s space. He filtered out the sound of the breeze and the breath of his companions and the distant chirping of birds.

And he heard a whoosh.

Chapter 58 (Patton)

If Patton hadn’t already been looking, he probably wouldn’t have had any idea what happened.

Everything had been fine. Virgil had been sitting cross legged, idly watching the conclusion of the game they’d been playing when his posture had suddenly changed. Patton had looked over at him only to see an expression on his face he didn’t recognize, but it didn’t seem good.

“What?” Patton had asked, but the question didn’t seem to register to Virgil.

Logan had glanced up confused and also noticed Virgil’s face. He’d just opened his mouth to also ask what was going on when chaos descended.

Virgil was suddenly moving, crashing into King Thomas who hadn’t even looked up to see something was wrong at that point. Patton realized after the fact that Virgil had swiped up the board of the game they’d been playing as he jumped over it, the pieces previously stacked on it scattering all over the blanket. There were three thumps as some things hit the thick board, imbedding themselves into the surface.

When Virgil discarded the board in favor of the picnic basket, Patton saw there were small darts in it oozing a dark black liquid. The parts of the board they touched were dissolving, the grass under the new holes beginning to wilt rapidly.

Logan seemed to notice the oozing liquid the same moment Patton did and was quicker to realize what it was. He grabbed Patton’s arm and yanked him away from the board so hard he almost dislocated Patton’s shoulder, not that Patton was too worried about that. He scrambled away from it when he realized what it must be himself.

He could hear the sound of glassware smashing above them. Logan and Patton had rolled off the blanket in their quest to get away from the smoldering, melting board and apparently Virgil had pulled the picnic blanket fully over the king at some point.

Virgil himself was now gone from where he’d been the last time Patton had looked and it took him a moment to figure out where the boy had gone. The person who had been shooting poisoned darts at them had been drawn out of the wooded area they’d been hiding in by Virgil’s attacks.

They were cloaked in dark green from head to toe, explaining why they’d been difficult to spot when they were in the woods. Whoever they were, they were significantly larger than Virgil, possibly an actual adult or almost adult assassin, but they were also clearly a long distant fighter. They had not been expecting resistance let alone resistance in the form of a so quick he was almost a blur fellow assassin.

They had a bow strapped to their back, but they hadn’t had a chance to get it. Instead, they were trying to fight Virgil off with an arrow they’d managed to draw from their quiver. Virgil, meanwhile was lunging at them with a broken piece of plate in one hand and the picnic basket in the other.

Virgil dodged out of the way of the arrow striking towards his arm, though Patton didn’t think it was because he was afraid of getting scratched by an arrow, but because it may also be poisoned tipped.

Virgil was distracted by dodging for long enough that the older assassin managed to hit him in the face with the arm not holding the arrow.

He went down, but he took the older assassin with him, sweeping their legs out from under them. Patton hadn’t noticed (his mind working too slow for how fast they were moving) but they were on a slight incline. They went rolling in a tangle of arms and legs towards the edge of the cliff and skidded to a stop only a few feet away.

Virgil ended up on top, his piece of broken plate in his hands. He moved to slash it across the other assassin’s throat and managed to draw blood, but the assassin’s fist came out to shove at Virgil’s chest at just the right moment, causing the strike to veer off course and slice across the assassin’s cheek instead.

Virgil jerked to the side to avoid a second strike to the chest and went back for another slash. The other assassin rolled to the side as he did and the plate only managed to nick their ear. The point of the motion hadn’t been to dodge, however. They were lunging for the arrow they’d dropped a few feet away while they’d rolled. They grabbed it with their right hand and in the same motion stabbed back behind them towards Virgil.

Virgil rolled to avoid the hit, already slashing up with his plate as the assassin turned back towards him.

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He didn’t hit them this time but his swipe managed to stop them from stabbing him when they tried again. They shoved themselves back to avoid Virgil’s swing, putting a bit of distance between them. Both of them managed to make it to their feet during the momentary reprieve, but both also stayed crouched, eyeing each other.

They both lunged towards each other at the same time. The assassin went for a stab to Virgil’s neck with the arrow, but Virgil was already ducking down. This time, he wasn’t going for a kill shot. He grabbed the assassin’s wrist and at the same time drove his piece of plate into the assassin’s arm, slicing down from the elbow to wrist. The assassin spoke for the first time, cursing in a language Patton didn’t recognize as they were forced to drop their arrow.

Virgil took a moment to kick the arrow away from the assassin and it ended up falling off the cliff.

However, this pause gave the assassin enough time to regroup. Despite their arm bleeding profusely, they still decided to use it to backhand Virgil across the face viciously, leaving a long line of their own blood across his face.

Virgil lunged back forward, but the assassin was able to get a leg between them, kicking Virgil squarely in the chest and sending him flying back a few feet parallel to the cliff’s edge.

The assassin went to grab their bow and another arrow from the quiver still strapped to their shoulder.

Virgil, however, apparently went for another weapon too and he was much faster with a knife than any archer. A knife appeared in his hand, having been strapped to his ankle and was embedded into the assassin’s chest before they could even full remove an arrow from their quiver.

The assassin promptly burst into flames, fire catching their clothes (and from the smell of it their skin) ablaze. Panicked and dying, they stumbled two steps to the side. They stepped directly off the cliff.

There was a second of silence. They heard the sound of the body hitting the ground far below and then the flap of wings and screeching as birds below fled from the startling sound (and possible soon to be forest fire).

…

“Uh, Virgil?” King Thomas said. He had managed to get the blanket off his head at some point. When, Patton didn’t know, but seeing any of it was probably enough.

Oopsie.

Chapter 59 (Logan)

Logan and Patton had been useless during the fight, but that may have been for the best. Considering the skill differential when it came to fighting (and that differential had never been as clear as it was in this moment), that was probably for the best. They likely would have just gotten in the way.

The moment Logan’s father spoke, however, they both jumped into action.

They both knew their jobs in a situation like this. Patton pushed himself up to his feet ungracefully and all but sprinted over towards Virgil. Logan, on the other hand stood to face his father, putting himself very purposefully between the man who had no idea what was going on yet and the boy who was two seconds away from remembering what was going on.

“I can explain,” Logan said.

His father was still sitting on the ground. “You can explain,” he said slowly, “how Virgil just threw an assassin off a cliff.”

Logan thought pointing out that Virgil hadn’t thrown anyone off a cliff and instead had set them on fire with a magical knife causing them to walk off a cliff, would not be useful in this moment. He glanced back briefly towards where Virgil and Patton were standing and then turned back to his father. “Yes.”

“And what would that explanation be?”

Before even starting to speak, Logan found himself making large dramatic ‘explaining hand gestures’ that he’d thought he’d long since trained himself out of. When he was younger and in trouble, he always used to give himself away as guilty by being overly expressive with his hands (and arms).

“So,” Logan said. He was still not able to stop the hand motions. “Virgil was an assassin. He came here to kill you last fall, but he accidently went to the wrong room in the royal wing. Patton and I were having a slumber party and caught him in the act. Then we reformed him and now he doesn’t kill people anymore.” He paused and glanced back, remembering the body that had just toppled off the cliff. “Er, uh, he doesn’t kill people who haven’t shot poisoned darts at people recently anymore?”

“What?”

“Look,” Logan said. “You’re going to have to tell him you’re not going to execute him soon. Patton can only keep him from bolting for so long.”

“Execute him?” his father asked.

“Well, he was a Mocnejsi assassin sent to kill you,” Logan said.

“Virgil is a Mocnejsi assassin,” his father repeated as though to confirm he’d heard him right.

Logan had thought the Mocnejsi was implied. “He was,” Logan confirmed.

“Why does that make more sense than any other explanation I’ve come up with for him?” his father asked while pinching his brow. Logan took that as rhetorical. Then, his father looked at him again. “He’s 14.”

“Yes,” Logan said, “I’m also pretty sure this is the first person he’s actually killed while not under a blood compulsion, so you really need to tell him he’s not going to be executed.”

His father seemed to actually absorb Logan’s request this time. He finally looked over Logan’s shoulder at Virgil, concern crossing his face at what he saw. “Right.”

He moved to step around Logan then, and Logan let him. Logan turned to watch him slowly approach Patton and Virgil, his hands out in a placating manner. He stopped a few feet away.

“Hey,” his father said. “That was a bit scary, huh?” Virgil looked at him, eyes wide and darting around like they did when he was looking for an escape. There wasn’t much of one being so close to the edge of the cliff.

Logan would worry he’d contemplate throwing himself off of it in a bid to escape if Patton wasn’t clutching him to prevent that. “You did a good job.”

That seemed to give Virgil pause, his eyes focusing on father. “Good job?” he asked.

“Yes, well,” father said with a small smile, “judging by what those darts are doing to the grass and how far we are from any supplies for counter potions, I think you blocking them probably saved my life. So, I think a good job is in order.”

Virgil did not respond verbally, though he tilted his head like he did when he was thinking through the steps of a potion.

His posture changed enough that Patton released him cautiously, taking a step away.

“But,” Virgil said. “I’m an assassin.”

“Yes,” Father said. “I could tell by how that fight just went.”

Virgil shifted his weight. “I came here to kill you.”

His father spread his arms wide. “Yet, here I am,” he pointed out. “You’ve had me alone multiple times including once in a secret room possibly no one would have ever found. Plus, you saved me today. I think that more than makes up for the intentions you had months ago.”

“Does that mean you’re not going to send me to prison?” Virgil asked. “Or execute me?”

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“No, of course not,” his father said.

Virgil eyed him, still slightly warry.

“I promise, Virgil, you’re fine.”

“Dad wouldn’t lie,” Logan interjected. Virgil looked over at him and then back at Father. He nodded slowly.

“Good,” Father said. “Now can we get a bit further back from the edge?” He glanced at Patton. “You too, Patton.”

Virgil and Patton both stepped towards him, and he herded them far away from the edge until they were at the edge of the surrounding forest. Logan followed as well.

“Can I touch your face?” Father asked once they were sufficiently away from the cliffs.

Virgil nodded and father pulled out a handkerchief. He carefully wiped the blood off Virgil’s face the best he could (most of it was not Virgil’s) and inspected the boy’s split lip and already bruising eye.

“Is your chest alright?” Father asked.

Virgil nodded. “Yeah.”

Father considered him. “Enough to ride back to the castle.”

“It wasn’t that bad of a hit,” Virgil insisted.

Father studied him for a moment longer. “I’ll choose to believe you for now,” he said. “We should get back to the castle as soon as possible just in case this is not an isolated attack.”

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“We don’t work in teams,” Virgil informed them. “They worry we’d get emotionally attached and not complete our missions.”

“I can understand why they would say something like that,” Father said, letting just a bit of his scorn come through, “but still, we should be on our way.”

With that, he put an arm on Virgil’s back to guide him back towards where they’d left the horses.

“Huh,” Logan said to Patton as they began to walk behind them. “I thought we’d be in more trouble for all of this.”

His father paused at overhearing that, turning to look at them over his shoulder briefly.

“Ah,” said Logan with a grimace. “I see.”

“It’s been nice being your friend all these years Logan,” Patton said solemnly. “Too bad we’re both going to be locked in our rooms for the rest of our lives.”

“Until your 50s with good behavior,” Father informed them blandly.

That was… probably fair. They did allow an assassin to freely roam the castle for months without telling anyone. The fact that his father was now watching that assassin like a hawk to make sure he wasn’t more injured than he was saying, did not change that fact.

Logan couldn’t find it in himself to regret it.

#proofread stories

13 notes · View notes

she-karev · 1 month ago

Note

The Lucas greys shot was so cute,just curious can you do a part 2 possibly. I love the Lucas Amelia link bond and Lucas and scout cousin cuteness please. Also makes me wonder if he ever told any of his add learning of it. ?

ADHD Reveal (Lucas Adams and Amelia Shepherd ADHD Imagine)

Age Rating: 12+

Chapters: One of One

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy

Canon Episode: Between Season 19 Episode 17 and 18

AN: Hey guys I know I’m late responding to this request but I’ve been busy with school and other one shots. I learned that October is ADHD awareness month so I thought it would be a perfect time to write this considering the theme. Like and reblog below and let me know what you think.

Summary: Amelia finds out her nephew Lucas has ADHD after accidentally ingesting his medication mistaking it for Aspirin. When she confronts him, he unloads his frustrations on her and their family for missing this.

Words: 5066

April 1st, 2023

“Adams!” Lucas Adams turns to find his chief resident, Amber DeLuca, inside the locker room holding a tablet ready to start the day, “You’re with me and Hunt today in the ER lets go.”

Lucas nods and quickly grabs his aspirin bottle to put inside his lab coat pocket. It’s not for a headache, it’s secretly storing his ADHD medication that he was recently prescribed two weeks ago with Nick Marsh’s help.

Ever since he found out he was neurodivergent Lucas felt everything come into clear focus on why no matter how hard he tries his mind wonders elsewhere. But with it comes a frustration not towards himself but towards his family. In a massive family of doctors how can a kid with clear signs of ADHD be dismissed as a problem child?

“Question Adams is today gonna be a busy or slow day in the ER?”

Lucas snaps out of his dark question to focus on his job that he hopes he can improve on now that he’s taking proper treatment and his focus is becoming more acute.

“Um doesn’t it usually vary?”

“It does.” Amber confirms, “But on April fool’s day the stupidity of the human race reaches heights even TikTok can’t record. Today people pull dangerous and straight up deadly pranks on others and guess who takes care of the damage.”

“First responders?”

“Who take them to us so we can make sure they live to see April 2nd. Now this is a popular prank, The Surfing Challenge, what are the common injuries from a teen riding a car like a surfboard?”

“Fractured pelvis, broken bones, road rash and brain injuries.”

“Correct, you’re with me all day. Any major traumas I have you will be by my side. Now normally I would request either Griffith or Kwan on my service but I personally requested you.”

Lucas looks genuinely shocked at that but knowing his boss thinks it’s a joke, “Is this an April fools prank to psych me for today?”

“Surprisingly no. I’ve noticed your improving work performance the past week, your able to multitask without royally screwing up and making mistakes that only a 1st year med student could make.”

Lucas furrows his eyebrows at that, “That was kind of a back handed compliment but thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” Amber states bluntly, “I’m taking you with me to really test you in a high stress environment. And the ER is the busiest room in this whole building. When patients come in, I am gonna point and yell, it’s how I operate so don’t take it personally.”

“I’ve learned not to at this point.” Lucas says as they head down the hall.

“See that is what I am talking about your finally learning, better late than never. I’m either gonna make or break you today so get your head in the game.”

“Yes Dr. DeLuca.” They enter the ER that is mostly empty this morning. Lucas spots an unopened water bottle at the station. He uncaps his aspirin bottle, pops the pill in his mouth before washing it down with the water.

“Incoming trauma two minutes out, gown and glove now!” Amber yells out to Adams who puts his aspirin bottle behind the station by a desktop before joining in on what will surely be a productive day.

Half an Hour Later

“Now you can see why you shouldn’t eat a spoonful of cinnamon.” Amber tells her teen patient who is breathing through an oxygen mask. He has brown smudges on his shirt and mouth that are from taking the cinnamon challenge. Once they opened his airway and cleared his lungs Amber set him up for oxygen therapy.

Adams looks over the chart for the lung function results, “His lungs are inflamed, should we put him on corticosteroids?”

“Let’s ask him.” Amber turns to the patient, “Simon, are you able to breathe without pain? Can you inhale without the mask? Let’s try.”

Simon takes the mask off and inhales causing him to couch violently, and Amber quickly puts the mask back on calming him down.

“Yep, give him 20 mg’s and call his parents they need to know their kid skipped school to eat cinnamon.”

Adams inserts the drug into the IV before going to the station to call Simon’s parents from the phone when he stops. The station is filled with files, tablets and pens but it’s not what’s on it that stops Lucas dead. His aspirin bottle filled with his Adderall prescription is missing.

Lucas quickly gets behind the desk and looks around the clutter for his bottle. He moves papers, puts tablets on top of the desk, and moves desktops to look in the back. His heart races as the gravity of this hits him, his Adderall is missing possibly in the hands of a doctor or nurse who is unknowingly taking speed.

Amber hears the clutter and looks to find her intern behind the desk moving objects around frantically. She sighs at the sight not expecting Lucas Adams to make a mess so soon after their shifts start. Amber turns to the nurse who looks puzzled by the scene as well.

“Monitor him please, I will be right back.” Amber snaps her gloves off and approaches her intern with a stern face. He doesn’t see her coming as he is on the floor of the station looking around the dirty floor.

“Adams I am almost afraid of what the answer might be but I am going to ask, what are you doing?”

Lucas’s head pops up from under, “Somebody took my aspirin, I need to find it.”

“I had high hopes for you today, Adams, it was a first and now it’s the last.” Amber pinches the bridge of her nose, “Aspirin is a dime a dozen ask a nurse to get you another-”

“No I need that bottle!” Lucas exclaims standing up and seeing his boss narrowing her eyes at him.

“Two things, 1. You do not interrupt me again, 2. You will tell me what is so important about that specific aspirin that warrants you to yell at the woman who can fire you with one call. Go.”

Lucas inhales and exhales to keep his anxiety under control before explaining in a hushed voice, “I was diagnosed with ADHD two weeks ago and the neurologist prescribed Adderall to take. I carry it with me inside a bottle of aspirin that I left at this station, and it’s gone which means someone took it with them by mistake.”

Amber stands there frozen for a moment to process before she laughs scaring Lucas who looks at her in shock. She laughs like it’s the funniest thing for a few moments before forming coherent words.

“Y-You’re pranking me, right?” Amber asks with a wide smile, “This is an April fools’ prank, oh Adams you almost gave me a heart attack, good on you.”

Lucas stands there frozen in place with a remorseful face that Amber sees causing her to gulp as her smile begins to die.

“Why aren’t you laughing? Laugh Adams so I know your messing with me, please!” Lucas looks down at his feet in fear causing Amber to frown as she realizes he’s telling her the truth. The chief resident inhales deeply to keep calm so that they don’t raise suspicion before moving closer to the intern asking in a low voice that sends shivers down Adams spine.

“Are you telling me that a doctor or nurse might be taking your ADHD medication by mistake causing them to be impaired and a danger to patients?”

Lucas stands there scared to give an answer that might have him punched. However, he knows silence will ensure his death so he gives a quick nod causing Amber to groan and turn to Owen Hunt who just entered the pit.

“Hunt!” Owen freezes at that shout that he registers as panic, “I need to attend to an emergency outside the pit and I need Adams with me.”

“DeLuca, we got patients, and they need-”

“Hunt I would never ask this of you unless it was life or death you know that and if you look at my face you will see the sheer panic and anxiety that will grow unless you let me go, now!”

Hunt looks shocked by that but complies knowing the resident well enough to see her fear, “I’ll page Parker and Kwan to cover you for the next hour.”

“Thank you.” Amber turns to her intern who looks panicked as well, “You’re with me so you can watch me clean up your mess. Again.”

Later

“It must be a hell of an aspirin to go through this much trouble.”

Amber rubs her eyes at that statement, “Carl you have no idea, just run the footage at 7:13 AM that’s when we got the paramedics with the patient and when my intern put his bottle at the station. And let’s keep this between the three of us unless something horrific happens and I need to get a lawyer, so I don’t lose income for my family.”

Lucas looks down in shame at that comment knowing it would be his fault if Amber got fired for his mistake. Despite how blunt she is and how much she reprimands him, he knows it’s because it’s her job to make sure he does better next time. But even when his focus becomes clear he still screws up. It makes him more frustrated at himself and everyone else around him.

The security guard goes over the security footage of the pit at Amber’s command. Meanwhile, Amber and Lucas are speaking privately a few feet away from the desk. She speaks to Lucas in a low voice so no one can hear them.

“Why do you keep your Adderall in a bottle of aspirin?” Amber asks sternly, “They already have them in orange pill bottles telling people who they’re for and what they are.”

“I-I didn’t want people to find out. I just got diagnosed I’m trying to find my footing and I’m getting used to my meds.” Lucas replies truthfully, “Everybody already thinks I’m a screwup especially my family I didn’t want to give them an excuse to hammer on me more or reasons that explain why I screwed up so much. But I can see that I didn’t think it through.”

“Gee you think?” Amber asks sarcastically causing Lucas to look up in shame. Remorse falls on the resident who tries to mend her words, “Look I am not shaming you for being neurodivergent. Half of my classmates in med school had ADHD, as long as you are finally working on getting treatment you have my support. But you have to understand that accidentally drugging medical professionals is severely frowned upon and could lead to both of us getting fired. Do you understand now why we keep pills in orange bottles?”

Lucas nods, “Yes I understand now it won’t happen again.”

“See to it that it doesn’t.” Amber sighs looking at the tape, “We just have to hope whoever took your aspirin didn’t take any. There! I see someone reaching over the station! Run it again.”

Amber and Lucas lean forward to get a closer look at the footage. They see a woman in a lab coat rubbing her temple and leaning against the station before grabbing the bottle and taking it with her. The footage stops as her face comes to full view revealing it to be Amelia Shepherd.

Lucas sees this and sighs at this unfortunate turn of events, “And it keeps getting better.”

Later

Amber bursts through the surgical doors searching for the chief of neuro. She darts her eyes around the area hoping that Amelia is prepping and not in an OR high on speed. Amber spots Amelia speed walking to the gowning station looking jittery as she takes a pair of booties before sitting down where her leg is shaking against the floor. The chief resident knows what this means causing her to gingerly approach Shepherd.

“Dr. Shepherd.”

Amelia smiles up at the chief resident before responding at hyper pace, “Hey Amber, let me ask you do you ever have one of those days where you have all this energy in your body and you just want to work out until you get it all out? I hate running so my outlet is surgery which is where I’m headed right now. Aneurism clip it’s nothing to it, just go in and out, it’s like when my college roommate had a guy over oof let me tell you she knew the definition of in and out.”

“Okay I need you to be honest with me right now, did you take aspirin this morning?”

“Yeah it didn’t work I still got the headache and I was excited to crush a stuffed crust pizza for lunch but I wasn’t in the mood.”

Amber nods bitterly, “Yep that tracks. Okay my friend you and I are gonna take a nice walk to the attendings lounge, let’s go.” She links her arm to Amelia’s who follows confused.

“But I have a surgery.”

“No you do not, your nephew will explain in a bit just keep walking and maybe don’t talk so much for all of our sakes.” Amelia keeps quiet allowing Amber to guide her to the attendings lounge where Adams is waiting anxiously.

“I-Is she…?” Lucas asks.

“Oh yeah.” Lucas groans at that confirmation. Amber grabs a water bottle from the fridge and hands it to Amelia who paces back and forth high on speed, “Hydrate now.”

“So bossy.” Amelia sips her water and ends up chugging it empty, “Oh wow I needed that, thanks.”

“Yeah, I don’t think your gonna feel thankful with what we’re about to tell you.” Amber turns to Adams who has his hands behind his head leaning against the fridge with a worried face, “Tell her. Your aunt, your mess. I’ll be in the pit when you’re done, I’ll call Link and tell him the situation.” Amber leaves the room with Amelia looking at Lucas confused.

Lucas sighs before getting off the fridge and approaching his aunt with guilt etched on his face. Amelia is still pacing in the room, “Um aunt Amelia…that aspirin you took it wasn’t aspirin it was my Adderall for my ADHD.”

Amelia stops pacing and faces Lucas with a wide-eyed expression, “…What?”

“That was my aspirin bottle you took only I don’t keep aspirin in it I keep my Adderall in it. I was diagnosed with ADHD two weeks ago and I’ve been taking it ever since, I am so sorry.”

Amelia’s bliss extinguishes at this and is replaced with shock, “Lucas! Oh my god! I am high right now! I’m six years sober I am a mom I cannot slip especially not now!”

“I-I-I didn’t think anybody was gonna take it.” Lucas explains clumsily.

“Then why did you keep speed in an aspirin bottle to begin with?!” Amelia asks frustrated, “I almost went into surgery strung out of my mind! I am in people’s brains for a living do you know how much focus and steadiness that requires?”

“I didn’t mean to get you high. And it’s not like you knew I mean doesn’t AA make exceptions for this?”

Amelia scoffs, “Recovery means being sober at all times it’s not like cheating on a diet or skimping on chores, it could mean ruined lives! God how is it you got me involved in your mess again?”

“My mess?” Lucas asks clearly triggered, “You think this is all my fault? I tell you I’m taking meds for my neuro disorder, and you somehow turn it around and make me the Black Shepherd again? Are you freaking kidding me?!”

Amelia is startled by his yelling and he continues, “Did you ever stop to wonder why I’m like this? Hyperactivity, lack of attention, inability to focus, irritated easily, I read all of those symptoms online and it all made sense to me so why didn’t it make sense to all of you?! Everybody called me lazy and stupid even my own family and your freaking doctors, neurosurgeons how could you have missed this?!”

Amelia frowns at this as her frustration passes and guilt settles in as her nephew continues ranting, “You know I get mom and dad and even Uncle Derek but you…you know what it’s like to be different to be seen as messed up and yet you took one look at me and thought the same things they did why?! It’s not like ADHD is rare and you go into people’s brains for a living, neurological issues are yours and Uncle Derek’s main language! Maybe if any of you had seen it and caught it early, I could have gotten treatment, I could have gotten this under control, I could have been something. I could have gotten better grades, got into the best colleges like you and Derek. I could have been a better doctor but instead you like everyone else in my life thought I was stupid, why?!”

Amelia is stunned silent by this struggling to respond causing Lucas to scoff, “You know what forget it, I’m going back to the pit. At least there are people there that don’t think I’m just another lazy idiot.” With that Lucas storms out slamming the door behind him leaving Amelia to stew in her guilt.

That Night

“Okay Scout is down.” Link proclaims as he enters his ex-girlfriends living room where she is sitting on the couch looking at the coffee table in torment, “I’m gonna stay here until you feel better and make sure you call your sponsor. How are you feeling? Are the symptoms subsiding?”

“Mostly.” Amelia answers in a numb tone, “I still feel thirsty, and I still got the headache that’s grown with the knowledge that I just broke my sobriety after six agonizing years.”

Link looks at Amelia in sympathy and sits down on the couch next to her, “You thought it was aspirin, something over the counter. You didn’t intend to get high; you didn’t intend to endanger yourself, your patients or our son. It was an accident, and you won’t do it again.”

Amelia darkly chuckles, “Yeah that’s what I said over ten years ago when I accidentally drank champagne at a friend’s wedding thinking it was ginger ale. (Private Practice Season 4 Episode 20) I played it off as an accident, a mistake and I ended up prescribing myself oxy and waking up to my fiancé who OD’d beside me. I fell until I hit rock bottom and it almost killed me.”

“So, you know not to do that again.” Link encourages, “Because you know if you do your son might have to grow up without a mom around. A good mom who is trying her best even when life throws hurdles at her. You stayed sober after Ryan, you stayed sober after Christopher, you stayed sober during a pandemic. You earned those 6 years, don’t let one accident mess up your progress. You know what happens if you do so I know you won’t do that again, you just have to know that too.”

Amelia looks at Link flattered knowing no matter what they will still love each other even if they are not together anymore. She also knows he will be her cheerleader when she feels the weight of the world on her shoulders, and she will forever appreciate it.

“Thank you.” Amelia sips her water bottle.

“How are you feeling otherwise? Are you okay?”

Amelia purses her lips, “Well I feel good about keeping my sobriety, I didn’t intend to get high and I don’t intend to ever. Although I feel guilt and depressed over being the worst aunt in the entire world so that’s not great.”

“You’re not the worst aunt in the entire world.”

“My nephew says otherwise.” Amelia retorts bitterly, “And why shouldn’t he? I like everybody else in my family thought he was a mess. He never followed instructions, he had to do everything his own way, his grades were barely passable, all that time I never thought there was something to explain why he was like that. I never thought he could have a learning disorder, and I am not only a terrible aunt but a horrible doctor as well. I remove inoperable tumors; I paved the way to cure Parkinson’s and yet I couldn’t see that my nephew was suffering from ADHD.”

“You weren’t the only one who didn’t see it.” Link reminds her, “His mom didn’t see it but then again I met her so I’m guessing she had expectations for her kid bordering on perfection.”

“You have no idea.” Amelia confirms with an exasperated tone, “But I know what it’s like to be considered the Black Shepherd so I could have understood his struggles better. I could have helped him; I could have been his safe haven, but I wasn’t because his mother drove me crazy, and I avoided her except on Christmas and birthdays and Lucas was a casualty. I wasn’t around as much as I should have been, and he suffered because of it.”

“Did you get a degree in diagnosing neuro divergent disorders at the drop of a hat?” Link asks causing Amelia to glare at him, “I’m not trying to be a jerk I am just saying this disorder can be missed even by doctors like you. Maybe you could have caught this if you were around more or maybe you couldn’t, we’ll never know. What happened in the past happened and you can’t change that, that’s what they teach you in AA right?”

“Yeah.”

“How does that saying go? Accept the things you can’t change…”

Amelia inhales and exhales before finishing, “Gain the courage to change the things you can and the wisdom to know the difference.”

“Yeah that’s right, you can’t change Lucas getting diagnosed sooner you and I both know that.” Amelia nods solemnly, “But you can change what happens from now on now that he’s been diagnosed. You can give him the help you wanted to give him when he was younger. Maybe when he sees how hard you’re working to make up for your lack of attention he’ll realize he has a pretty cool aunt on his side. And if he doesn’t then it’s his loss, what do you say?”

Amelia looks at Link in thought before her brain comes up with ideas to help her nephew and make up for her mistakes.

Three Days Later

Lucas is in the living room of what used to be his Aunt Meredith’s house and is how his, Griffith’s and Yasuda’s. He is reading from his flashcards that Nick Marsh gave him to help him study for the ABSITE’s.

Marsh told him it helped him pass with flying colors and thought Lucas could benefit from it as well. Lucas finds this to be true as the medical notes are easy to read with examples to help. He knows even if he caught this too late at least someone like Nick can guide him through it unlike his own family.

He hears the door opening and closing but is deep in his notes to look up, “Did you get any Chinese? I’m starving.”

“No but I brought sushi.” The familiar voice makes Lucas look up to find it’s his aunt Amelia holding up a takeout bag with a guilty face, “I thought it would be the first step in the Aunt Amelia apology train.”

Lucas is stumped by this gesture and almost wants to welcome it. However, he is still angry towards Amelia and feels his outburst was warranted. Their relationship has been fraught since he joined the program, but he feels he can’t forgive and forget knowing she like so many others let him down when he needed help the most.

He looks back down on his notes and replies icily, “I’m not hungry.”

Amelia is not mad, she knows it’s gonna take more than Japanese takeout to make up for her short sightedness, “I get it, I would give the cold shoulder too after what I said the other day. I wouldn’t be so cold and silent though I would be belligerent and give a verbal lashing that could rival yours three days ago.”

“What do you want?” Lucas asks impatiently, “Are you here to try to get me to tell your sponsor that I accidentally got you high so there’s only one screw up in the family?”

“Lucas I could be 20 years sober, and I would still be the screw up in the family.” Amelia retorts half amused, “And my sponsor believed me and didn’t change my sobriety date, so I am good on that front. Now I am moving on to making things right with my nephew who gave me an Oscar worthy speech the other day so to start I am sorry. I will elaborate further.”

Lucas holds his hand up to stop her, “Look let’s not do this. No amount of sorry is gonna change what happened and it’s not gonna make 12-year-old me get diagnosed and treated. Now I am sorry for accidentally getting you high, I can see now orange pill bottles exist for a reason and I will use them from now on. I’m working out to combat the symptoms and I’m improving on my work so much that even Amber DeLuca is impressed. We can work together without any more incidents and outbursts. Let’s just…keep things professional from now on okay? I think it’s best for all of us.”

Amelia looks hurt by this for a moment before gaining the courage to work harder on her apology, “You didn’t mean to get me high; I know that and I also know that me saying your ADHD ruined my life was a low blow. I should have handled it better, I should have taken into account why it took so long for you to get treatment. And your right things could have been different if you had gotten this diagnosed as a kid. Maybe I could have seen it if I was around more when your were a kid. College, med school, residency are all time consuming, and sacrifices were made. Also, your mom has made it her life’s mission to remind me of my mistakes every time I come and visit so that kept me away as well. I think you know as well as I do that your mother, while I love her is not the most likable person to be around for long periods of time. She can be snarky, brash, judgmental, hold on to grudges and just an outright bitch on occasion.”

“Hey!” Lucas snaps looking up with a glare, “Just because I’m mad at her doesn’t mean I’ll stay quiet while you insult her, that’s my mother you’re talking about.”

“And she’s my sister so I get to talk bad behind her back all I want.” Lucas rolls his eyes, “My point is that I can’t change the past short of getting a time machine we can’t diagnose you earlier and support you when you needed it most. The past is in the past and there’s no way to go back and correct all the mistakes we’ve done.”

“You’re really lifting my spirits here.” Lucas remarks sarcastically still reading his notes.

“I can’t change what happened, but I can change what happens moving forward.” Lucas looks up for the first time without venom instead he has curiosity in his eyes, “You say that you could have accomplished more if we caught this earlier, you say that like it’s too late but it’s not. You’re still young, you’re an intern, you’re at the prime of your career where you have so many opportunities to live up to the family name. It’s what you want to do, and I am gonna help you do that because it’s what I would have wanted when I lived in our pedestal family’s shadow.”

Lucas looks at Amelia with tenderness at this offer as she continues, “Now I am working to develop my Parkinsons research and while it’s not nominated maybe it will win me the Catherine Fox award next year. Assisting me on that could pave the path you want and finally show our family screwed up doesn’t mean stupid. What do you say?”

Lucas sighs as his anger begins to subside with this offer. For so long he wanted to be seen as good enough in his family and now his world-class surgeon aunt is offering to help him with that. It makes him want to take her offer, but his loyalty matters more to him.

“I wish I could but I’m already helping Dr. Marsh with his genetically modified pig livers. He’s already nominated, and I hope he wins, it can give people like him and me a role model to look up to.”

Amelia is taken back by this rejection but is oddly pleased with this loyalty from her nephew, “That is very admirable of you. Nick Marsh is a good man, and he helped you when all of us failed you so he more than earned your assistance. He can help you be the surgeon he and I know you can be.”

Lucas nods at this before speaking in comfort, “Well you’re the first person besides Uncle Derek and Nick who said that about me, if that counts for something.”

Amelia grins at this start to a more stable relationship between them before the food calls to her, “Well the offer still stands but until then are you hungry for sushi now? I know it’s not Chinese but I promise I got goodies in here for us both.”

Lucas is enticed by the smell of food as his hunger grows, “What did you get?”

“Yellowtail jalapeno for me, spicy tuna on crispy rice for you and wonton tacos for both of us.”

Lucas salivates at that before putting his notes away, “Okay but I get most of the tacos.”

Amelie chuckles, “You do not want to challenge me on that trust me.” She sits down next to him on the couch taking the food out so they can eat together as a family for what will hopefully be the start of a new and better beginning between them.

#greys anatomy #grey's anatomy #greysanatomy #greysanatomyedit #greysedit #greys anatomy imagine #lucas adams #amelia shepherd #auntie #nephew #family #adhd #adhd awareness #october 2024

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late-to-the-party-81 · 10 months ago

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Of Pianos and Mischief

AN: You know when you have an idea for a fic, and then that idea grows, and then you think “I could link this to a story I wrote last year”? Well, that!

This can be read as a follow-up to the story I wrote for BBB 2022 - Polyamory

Beta’d by BritBrit99

Likes are loved, reblogs are golden

Mood board by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics

Bingo Fills -

@buckybarnesbingo K4 - Playing an instrument

@stuckybingo I2 - Loki

@steverogersbingo C4 - Loki

Master list | BBB Master list | Stucky Bingo Master List | SRB Master list

Summary: Just a normal day for Sam and his two super soldier boyfriends, sketching, reading and wondering how the hell Bucky has managed to smuggle a piano into his room….

Relationship: Steve x Bucky x Sam

Word count: 1.7k

CW: Sam Wilson PoV, Domestic fluff, boys in love, Bucky Barnes recovering, Protective Steve, Protective Sam, Snarky Loki.

Sam had known that when he decided to follow his heart and accept the love of not one, but two, centenarian supersoldiers, that he wasn’t picking the easy path. But when had he ever picked ‘easy’? Every day was a challenge of some description and today was no exception. He should have known that something was coming when it started off so calmly.

Bucky had gone out to the shops this morning, coming home with a secret bag of ‘who knows what’ and was now ensconced in his room, apparently working on a ‘special project’. Sam and Steve knew by now to just let him be - he’d tell them when he was ready. However, it had been while they were waiting in the living room, Steve randomly sketching and doodling at one end of the sofa and Sam trying to make his way through The Hobbit on Bucky’s recommendation at the other, feet tangled together, that they heard a sound that just cemented in Sam’s mind that his life would never be straight forward.

A piano.

They could hear a piano being played in Bucky’s room. Steve’s eyes had lit up, obviously recognising the melody that was being played rustily from behind the closed door, but Sam’s first thought had just been ‘How the hell did Bucky sneak a piano into the apartment?’

“What the hell? Did you know about this Steve?” Sam turned on the sofa to look at Steve, but his blonde boyfriend now had his eyes closed, his right hand moving in time to the music, still clutching a charcoal pencil.

“He’s playing ‘Night and Day’,” Steve replied, dreamily. “He used to play this when we went down Farrell’s on the corner of 16th and 9th. The girls would hang around him, trying to get him to notice them, and if he was lucky, some of the old timers would toss a nickel in his hat. I don’t think I’ve heard him play since he shipped out.”

Sam rolled his eyes. Steve was always so sappy, which was normally endearing, but not in this instance where there were questions to be answered.

“And I’m all for it, really, but how did the piano get in our apartment? I’m guessing you didn’t help him and I sure as hell didn’t.”

At Sam’s words, Steve’s face took on a quizzical expression and, to be honest, it was pretty cute.

“I mean, he could probably carry one in here on his own,” Steve suggested, but it was clear he didn’t really believe what he was saying, even if it was possible.

“Yeah, but without either of us noticing?” Sam countered.

“Maybe Thor helped him?” Steve offered, even less convincingly.

Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head, putting his book down and shifting so he could straddle Steve’s legs and cup his jaw.

“Steve, the situation is weird and you know it.” He dropped a kiss to Steve pink, pouty lips. “Now, I’m gonna go find out what’s going on.”

He straightened and climbed off Steve’s lap. He made it two steps across the room before Steve called after him.

“Sam, wait…” Steve practically stumbled to his feet, his sketchpad and charcoal tumbling to the floor as he did so. He reached out and snagged Sam’s hand. “You know Bucky doesn’t like to be disturbed. We promised to respect that.”

Sam looked at Steve’s earnest face then at Bucky’s door and back again, and his shoulders slumped as he let out a sigh. “You’re right, but you know how much I hate mysteries.”

Suddenly a voice came from behind them.

“It’s not that mysterious, my dear New Cap.”

The two men whirled around to find a pair of blue-green eyes twinkling at them, mischievously.

Steve scowled and took a protective step forwards, fists clenched at his sides.

“Loki!”

The God of Mischief was perched atop the sideboard, legs crossed with the one underneath swinging jauntily.

“Now, now, Captain - sorry. Nomad - don’t get your star-spangled panties in a wad. I’m just here to help.”

Steve let out a low noise, which to Sam’s ear sounded like a growl. It was both surprising and sexy in equal measure.

Loki hopped down, uncaring of Steve’s posturing and took a relaxed seat on the couch.

“I know! It still comes as a surprise to me on occasion. But I will admit to having been very intrigued when the good Sargent’s missive reached me in New Asgard, asking for some assistance. I needed to see for myself the man that had caused you and Stark to fall out. I must say I wasn’t disappointed.”

“You leave Bucky alone, Loki, or so help me…” Steve took another step forward but halted and trailed off when Loki raised his hand.

“I assure you, I have no designs on ‘your Bucky’. My tastes run more to blondes who are even older than you are.”

Sam stepped around Steve, hoping to keep him from launching himself at the smirking demi-god.

“What did Bucky actually ask you to help with?”

Loki turned his head to take Sam in with an appraising look. “Finally, someone who asks the real questions. But then I’m guessing that you don’t have any ridiculous serum making you all addle-pated. You don’t seem so pompously righteous either.”

“You still don’t want to underestimate me though,” Sam quipped back, easily understanding how the others found Loki insufferable.

Loki looked at Sam, opening his mouth as if to make a retort, but then seemed to think better of it.

“Well, anyway,” he said instead, “He wanted help acquiring and secretly installing a Midgardian piano, and then adding magical sound-proofing to his room, so he could practise without either of you knowing. And as a former brainwashing victim myself, I have to admit I was very intrigued to see how he was readjusting. I can see that all it took was the love of two good men, a global pardon and a stint in Africa.”

Steve’s shoulders lost some of their tension at Loki’s explanation, but he was still far from relaxed. “So, let me get this straight - you used your magical abilities to conjure Bucky a piano?”

“My,” Loki drawled, “you really are more intelligent than you seem.”

“And you’re more of an asshole than you seem,” said Sam. “But if you also sound-proofed his room, why can we hear him playing?”

Loki smiled a toothy grin. “Well, I wouldn’t be the God of Mischief if I didn’t do the unexpected every now and again, would I?” With that he stood, brushing imaginary specks of dust from his clothes. “Anyway, it was very nice chatting with you both, but I must be going. Things to do, you know how it is.” Then, with a wave of his hand and a green flash, he disappeared.

Sam and Steve looked at each other in disbelief, still trying to work out what exactly had just happened, when Bucky’s door opened and he came strolling out. The other pair jumped in surprise and Bucky raised his brow.

“What’s going on?” he asked. “Why does Stevie look as though he’s squaring up for a fight?”

Steve looked down at his hands that were still curled into fists and unclenched them.

“I was… just… um… walking through a defensive move with Sam. Wasn’t I?” Steve looked at Sam, his blue eyes imploring.

“Yeah, something like that,” Sam confirmed.

Bucky obviously wasn’t convinced. “Mmm-hmm? You two keep your secrets then. I won’t be offended.” He let out a mock sniff as he made his way over to the sofa, sat down, and then noticed the book on the coffee table. “Hey, Sam, you’re actually reading it. What do you think so far?”

Sam flashed Steve a look of relief that Bucky was now distracted by one of his favourite topics and went to join Bucky on the couch, curling up tight next to him. “It’s great, Buck. But you know what would be even better?”

“What, dollface?”

“If you read it to us. You agree, don’t you Steve?”

Steve smiled broadly at them both, before crossing the carpet and wedging himself down between Bucky and the opposite arm of the sofa, pulling Bucky to half lie with his back against Steve’s chest.

“Sure I do. You’ll read us a chapter, won’t you, baby?”

Bucky smiled at each of his boyfriends in turn. “Anything for you two. But afterwards you gotta tell me what was going on before I came out.”

“Only if,” Steve countered, “you tell us what you were up to in your room.”

“Deal,” said Bucky, and dropped a kiss on Steve’s lips before turning back to Sam and dropping one on his too. “So, chapter five. Riddles in the Dark. When Bilbo opened his eyes, he wondered if he had; for it was just as dark as with them shut.”

Sam let himself relax against Bucky’s side, resting his head on his shoulder, and listened to his deep voice rumble through him. Steve’s arm rested along the back of the sofa, and the tips of his fingers, which could just about reach Sam’s head, traced lazy patterns in his short hair.

Life might not be easy and constantly filled with the unexpected, but thinking on everything else he had, Sam decided he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Tag List: @km-ffluv @wheezy-stucky @christywrites @doasyoudesireandlive

#All Caps #SamStucky #buckybarnesbingo2023 #Steve Rogers Bingo #Stucky Bingo #Steve x Bucky x Sam

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queercripintersex · 1 year ago

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On intersex questioning

I recently put up a poll asking people what motivated them to question if they were intersex. Partly to know how "typical" I am. But also because I'm curious if people who are currently questioning their intersex status are noticeably different from those of us who already identify as intersex.

And I gotta say, the spread of responses look pretty similar!

Most of the asks I see on tumblr tend to be framed in medical terms. Personally, I was motivated more by social/psychological reasons (figuring out who I am and wanting to not feel like a lone freak). Turns out people like me are in the minority but we're hardly alone.

I honestly wonder how much of the medical asks are really about other things like belonging or gender but those reasons don't seem "valid" enough.

I wanna share the replies and reblogs because I would have found them useful to read back when I was questioning if I was intersex. I have lightly edited them for readability (if you wrote one and want to be quoted by username DM me!) To see the original comments go to the original post. Replies from intersex people "I went through several years of being confused about how I felt trans fem but also was afab. The day I was diagnosed with PCOS I searched it in Tumblr and found out it fell under the intersex umbrella and I accepted that identity for myself immediately. Intersex was never a question for me, it was the answer I had been looking for." "Multiple of the above! Mislabeled trauma and ignored medical issues made more sense after finding out, and a more general discomfort with how I look lessened after finding out, oh i look like this because of that and i look like that down there because of what they did to me"

"wanted to figure out both medical and gender stuff but medical was more pressing so i picked that one"

"never thought of myself as intersex until PCOS fucked my whole hormone cycle up. Now it feels weird not to say im intersex"

"medical issues and gender stuff i guess. I had stuff like slightly too early and too intense puberty and i was like. There is no way that this is normal theres gotta be something to explain this. And then after some time i found out there are hormonal intersex variations that do that stuff. Now to just get myself to accept that im still intersex on hrt 🙃"

"It was very complicated for me because for years I had a feeling that Something wasn't right. And I didn't technically have a period of questioning but I always did feel weird calling myself perisex bc I just felt Something was wrong. And then. Almost 2 years ago now. I was told by my parents that I had my chromosomes tested as a toddler. And I had triple X. They didn't seem to think it was a big deal or anything and so just never thought to tell me?. And then I had a brief questioning period on whether that counted as intersex but within a couple of days came to terms w it"

"Picking only one was tricky for me because the medical trauma and the gender stuff have been so deeply linked for me. [...] I didn't really seriously consider [questioning] until my mid-20s once I had access to therapy for the first time in my life ... At first in therapy the issues of medical trauma and of figuring out my gender were treated as though they were parallel issues but the more we explored them the more evident it was they were linked. When I went through hyperandrogen puberty it felt normal and appropriate, and everything my mom and doctors did to force my body into a female presentation was both traumatic and a source of gender dysphoria. [...] Figuring out I was intersex connected all the dots."

"Other. Wanted to know why people kept being confused by or shocked by my genitals. which honestly answered itself but then i wanted a more in depth medical answer Just In Case (like since i have ovotestis i am at risk of ovarian AND testicular cancer)"

💛💜💛

#intersex #questioning #intersex questioning #for any stats nerds the R^2 on the chart is 0.93 #I didn't want to quote people by username without permission but happy to edit usernames in with permission #I do not actually know the appropriate tumblr etiquette and am just guessing #hope that's okay #intersex polls

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streamafterlaughter · 1 year ago

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Fundamental Differing

Chapter XIV: Away To Nowhere Plains

nav | master list | playlist | pin board | chapter XIII

summary: a welcome home party in hawkins, a break from the whirlwind of rock n roll fame.

tags/warning: flirting, consumption of alcohol, weed, swearing, normal chill stuff nothing insane, LOTS of use of Y/n sorry guys nicknames are for couples!!!!! slow burn, mutual pining, tension as per usual

a/n: I MISSED YOU GUYS. i’m so sorry this took so long to update, i was following paramore around the east coast for a few weeks like a crazy person. should be posting waaaay more regularly now. please enjoy! Disclaimer: I do not give permission to have my work reposted on other sites. Reblogs are more than welcome, but please inform me if you find my work elsewhere unless otherwise stated. please reblog and comment to support the author!

—

December 1986

You rub the sleep from your eyes as you wake, Eddie’s pretty face slowly coming into focus. “Hey, sleepyhead. How’re you feeling?” His voice is soft, soothing to your ears.

“Better this time around. I think you chased the nightmare off, I dreamt of you instead.” You weren’t planning on telling him, you blame your fatigue for the confession.

“Yeah? Was it hot?” He jokes, and you bite your bottom lip because yeah, it definitely was. “It was, wasn’t it?!” Eddie hops out of bed and starts pacing the floor. “Let me guess, we were somewhere cool, like the woods. We were camping! Yeah, and you forgot your tent, so we had to share, and bing bang boom we’re waking up the wildlife.” He looks back to you, eager for your confession.

You cackle at his guess. “Not even close, man. You were a fucking rockstar. Got up on stage at The Garden, and everyone was there for you. Kicked some fucking ass, might I add.” You leave the part where you jumped on stage out, not wanting to give Eddie any ideas for future Corroded Coffin shows.

“Can I tell you something?” He plops back down next to you, shaking the bed. “Remember the party? When you told me the band could be something, and I told you that was never really the plan?” You nod, and he sighs, “Well. I was lying. It’s been the only thing I’ve wanted to do since I was a kid. What you said meant a lot to me, and I wanted to believe you, but we’d just met, and I wasn’t sure if you were being serious or if you wanted to get in my pants.” He grins, and you know he’s joking.

“It was both, obviously!” You backhand him, and he fakes being hurt. “But mostly the former, I really meant it. I do mean it! You’re talented, you’ve got a great group of friends.”. You open your arms, and he scoops you into his, wrapping his legs around your waist like a koala. He mumbles something into your neck, sounding embarrassed. “What was that?”

He removes his head from your shoulder. With his legs still curled around you, he grasps you by the shoulders, as if to steady your already unmoving frame. He looks deeply into your eyes, and though he looks exhausted, he is absolutely stunning. You fight everything in you to jump him there, forget about a night out with friends, and just ravage the boy in your arms all night instead.

“I love you.”

You swear your heart stops. In fact, you are definitely dead. You died, flew into some deluded version of Catholic Heaven where you get everything you want, no consequence. Eddie tries to read your expression, and you hope to god he can because you sure don’t know what the fuck to feel. “You don’t have to say it back, in fact, don’t. Not yet. But I mean it.”

“I-“ Eddie cuts you off with a kiss, and you let him. You close the tiny gap between his chest and yours, and kiss him to convey all the feelings your words aren’t capable of.

“Now, put on something sexy, we’re going out tonight.” Eddie rolls off of you, snatching his towel from his chair on the way out of the room.

Holy shit.

Your POV

“Is anyone here to pick us up?” You ask, linking your arm with Steve’s as you exit into the terminal. The airport is bustling with families on their way to Disneyworld and Martha’s Vineyard for their summer vacations, meanwhile you’re about to spend a week in one of the most traumatizing towns of your young adulthood.

“Yeah, Nance and Jonathan are- and speak of the devil!”

Nancy and Jonathan approach from the other side of your gate, and you take off running. Nance catches you in her embrace, squeezing you tightly as you fall into her arms. “Hi, baby!” You squeal, keeping your old friend close.

“Hi, honey! It’s so nice to see you!” When she lets you go, you move to hug Jonathan as Robin and Steve say their hellos. Eddie and the guys are further back, sending waves to them. Nancy doesn’t accept that, though, and throws herself into Eddie. “Hey, Ed.” She mumbles into his shoulder.

Eddie’s POV

“Hey, Nance. Long time.”

“Too long!” She separates herself from him and backhands his chest. “Visit more!”

Eddie scoffs. “Hey, you’re in Boston now, don’t give me that shit!”

“Sure, but I come home every summer. I know you’re big and famous, but this is still your home!”

“How is the big guy?” He’s talking about Dustin, eyes betraying a glimpse of who Eddie used to be.

“He’s good. He misses you. We didn’t tell him, or any of them actually, that you were coming.” Nancy’s shy, suddenly.

“Because we weren’t sure if you actually were.” Jonathan explains, and Eddie nods, pressing his lips together. It makes sense, he’s made plenty of empty promises to visit already, only finally pulling himself together because of you.

“But you did! You came! Both of you came, which is even crazier. But it’s great! We’re having a party tonight, Steve’s hosting, we can all drive over together.” Nancy blurts, her mind moving faster than her mouth can.

“A party?” You ask, voice raising an octave higher than it usually sits. You sound nervous.

“Well, what us casual folk consider a party. You guys will probably see it as a pathetic attempt at one.”

“Oh, please!” Steve interjects, “My parties are never pathetic. I was the king!”

Eddie groans dramatically. “Yeah, yeah, man. We know, you peaked in high school.”

“I did not.” Steve crosses his arms, and your laugh draws Eddie’s attention back to you.

“I for one would love a Hawkins style party.” You add finally, a real smile spread across your face. “It’ll be nice to see everyone.”

Nancy nods, taking your carry on from your grasp. “Great! Let’s get you settled.”

“Did you book us a hotel? Eddie asks, surprised. That’s above any level of friendship he’s had with these two specifically.

They both laugh. “A hotel? You’re staying with us!” Oh, fuck.

—

Your POV

“So, my parents happen to be away for the week you’re all here,” Nancy starts, unlocking the door to her childhood home, a building that housed many a party, many a D&D game. “so we have it to ourselves! The couches up here and downstairs, the guest room, and obviously Robin and Y/n will be sleeping with me, to catch me up on the Hollywood Gossip.” Nancy winks at you, and you smile. You’ve missed her, missed Hawkins, despite everything.

“When are the kids getting here?” You ask. You mean Max, specifically. You owe her some money. Eddie and the guys make their way downstairs before Nancy answers,

“They’re at Dustin’s, they’ll be over later today. Something about needing to catch up on the news?”

You bring your palm to your face. “Shit. I was gonna tell you over drinks, lots and lots of drinks, but uh, there’s a rumor flying around that Eddie and I are, y’know,” You trail off, fidgeting like an embarrassed child.

Nancy brings her manicured hand to her open mouth, quick to hide her pity. (It doesn’t work.) “Oh, god. Are you? Sorry, that was rude. How are you handling it?”

You laugh, unfazed by her curiosity. “I don’t really know what we are right now,”

“So you’re something?” She smirks.

You roll your eyes. “We’ll always be something.”

She shrugs, a truce. “What are you gonna tell them? Tell Dustin? You know how he gets.”

You shake your head. “That’s Eddie’s problem.”

Nancy chirps a laugh, placing your suitcase at the end of her bed, and Robin’s backpack beside it. “Fair enough. But didn’t Max bet you the break up wouldn’t last?”

You snort, “Yeah, I owe the kid fifty bucks.”

“If I’d known we were putting money on it, I’d be freaking rich!” Robin teases, and you try to smother your grin. She’s right, she’d been betting on you and Eddie reconciling for the past two years.

“Sorry, Bob. Ya snooze, ya lose!”

“Speaking of snoozing, I need a nap before this party. Pretty sure I broke my neck on the plane.”

Nancy rouses you and Robin from your slumbers gently, shaking your shoulders while whispering that “It’s time to get up, rockstars!” The time on her old alarm clock blinks 4:15PM, both you and Robin had slept the day away. You take your time getting up, stretching your limbs slowly as your eyes adjust to the sunlight, streaming through the blinds. Your stomach growls loudly, and Nancy chuckles. “Pizza’s on the way! We’ll eat before we go to Steve’s. For now, though, go get dressed. Remember your bathing suits!” She’s in Mom mode, taking care of you and Robin while running around like a crazy person.

You dig through your suitcase, coming up empty handed. “I don’t have a bathing suit.”

Robin rolls her eyes. “Yes you do!” She takes your suitcase from you, pulling out the skimpy bikini from beneath your piles of clothing. It’s black with cherries on it, and teeny tiny. You bite your lip in embarrassment. It’s a cute bikini, but it’s super inappropriate to be wearing around the kids.

Robin seems to read your mind, though. “They’re all adults now, y/n. You don’t need to walk around in a mumu. Plus,” she wiggles her eyebrows teasingly, “we both know who’ll love this number.”

You groan, snatching the fabric from her grip. “Fine! But you have to wear your yellow one. I’m not gonna be the only one walking around almost-naked.”

She giggles, agreeing. “Doesn’t bother me!” She finds her suit in her backpack and leaves the room to let you change.

Eddie’s POV

“So, why are we staying here if we’re having the party at your place?” Eddie asks before biting into his pizza.

“Because Nancy insisted on staying here, but she can’t host a party to save her life. Plus, I have a pool.”

“Your parents have a pool. You live in a tiny apartment in Seattle with two other people.”

Steve shoves Eddie’s shoulder. “Man, shut up. At least I have friends to live with.” Eddie’s face falls, and Steve notices immediately. “I’m sorry. That was too far.”

He shrugs. “It’s alright, you’re not exactly wrong.” He’s glad he’s not home right now, it gets lonely there. The thought of seeing all of his friends again, though, is still overwhelming him. He has no idea what he’ll say to Dustin, or worse, what Dustin will say to him.

Before Eddie can panic further, though, you and Robin enter the kitchen. You’re in shorts and a tight black t-shirt, the strings of your bikini visible underneath. Your short hair is clipped to keep it out of your face, the vibrant color having faded since the beginning of the tour. You send a small smile his way, melting Eddie’s insecurities, even temporarily. He can’t seem to peel his eyes from you as you walk over to the counter, helping yourself to a slice of pizza. He has to fight the urge to walk over to you, wrap his arms around your waist, rest his head on your shoulder. It practically pains him, when you’re out of his reach.

“Eds?” You snap him out of his trance, waving a hand in front of him.

“What?” He shakes his head, as if to rid the image from his brain. “Sorry.”

You grin shyly, and Eddie could melt at the sight. “I asked if you’re ready to go?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m all set.”

Your smile widens, and you hold your hand out for him. He takes it, expecting you to drag him out to the car, but you pull him hooking, hooking your arm around his. “Okay, then. Shall we?”

He can feel the eyes of the room on the pair of you, his cheeks warming. You don’t seem to notice, only looking up at him, your eyes shiny and warm.

Mere hours later, Steve’s parents’ house is full and loud, music bumping through the surround sound speakers. Eddie’s in the kitchen nursing a beer when Dustin enters. He’s grown taller and more muscular since the last time Eddie’s seen him, and the beginnings of a beard pepper his face, making him look more like a man than the last time he’d seem the boy. Susie’s on his arm, smiling kindly when she meets Eddie’s eyes. “You wanna drink, Dusty?” She asks sweetly, and Dustin nods. She exits the kitchen, leaving the boys alone.

“What’s up, Dusty?” Eddie tries to joke, extending his hand for Dustin to shake. He swats it away, instead pulling Eddie into a much needed hug.

“Hey, Eddie.” His greeting is muffled by Eddie’s shoulder, and Eddie returns the hug without shame, wrapping his arms around Dustin’s shoulders. The two stay like that, long lost brothers seeing each other for the first time in years.

“Missed you, man.” Eddie finally says when Dustin breaks the hug, holding Eddie at arm’s length. “You're lookin’ great.”

“I’ve been hittin’ the gym a little, check this out,” Dustin flexes a bicep, the beginnings of muscle protruding from his arm. Eddie chuckles, nodding an approval.

When the small talk dies, neither speaks at first, unsure of where to take the conversation besides the elephant in the room. “How’s tour treating you?” Dustin finally asks, taking a seat at the kitchen island. Susie returns with two sodas, handing one to Dustin and sipping the other.

Eddie shrugs, taking another sip of his beer. “It’s been alright, pretty standard stuff.”

Dustin chuckles, and the sound is deeper than Eddie’s used to. “Standard, huh? Touring with the ex love of your life?”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Right to the point, huh?”

“Obviously, man! I haven’t seen you in years, and the one time you come back, it’s with all this new information I’m not aware of! You know I hate being out of the loop!”

“I know, and I owe you a lot of information. Trust me, I wanna tell you everything,” Before Eddie can continue, you’re stumbling into the kitchen, giggling drunkenly with Robin as you wobble to the coolers in the corner.

“Hi, boys! Oh my god, it can’t be. Is that Dustin freaking Henderson?!” You gasp dramatically, pulling a big smile from Dustin as he approaches you. You swing your arms around his neck, having to get on tiptoes now to reach him. He wraps his arms around you, and you sway as you hug him tightly.

“Hey, Y/n.” He greets warmly, then releases you to hug Robin with the same welcoming arms. “Hi, Bob.”

“Hey, buddy.” Robin hums, rubbing Dustin’s back as she hugs him closely.

“Sorry to interrupt, I know you guys have a lot of catching up to do. But we’re about to play chicken, and I need a partner.” You look from Dustin to where Eddie is, leaning against the counter, opening his fourth beer of the night.

“What, me?”

You roll your eyes. “Obviously, silly. C’mon! It’ll be fun.” You’re wasted, eyes glazed over and posture loose. It’s impossible to say no to you.

��I’ll be out in a second.”

“Okay!” You sing, hooking your arm through Robins again. The two of you exit the kitchen, into the back yard. Eddie can’t look away as you peel your shirt over your head, revealing a tiny black bikini top.

“You haven’t changed a bit, Munson.” Dustin taunts as Eddie pulls his stare from your silhouette.

“What are you talking about?”

“Seriously? You can’t tell me that is how friends look at each other,” He mimicks Eddie, staring open mouthed at the wall, eyes wide and unblinking. “It’s pathetic!”

“This is why I haven’t come back here, Henderson.” Eddie teases, backhanding the kid’s stomach. “Can’t deal with your know-it-all bullshit.”

Dustin snorts a laugh. “Hey, man, I'm just callin’ it like I see it.”

Your POV

You dip your toes into the cool water while you wait, letting the feeling contrast with the alcohol induced warmth of your body. You feel a presence sit next to you, another pair of feet meeting yours under the water.

“Hey, kiddo.” You greet her, leaning your head on her shoulder.

“What’s up, big shot?” Max leans her head on yours, her way of hugging you without committing to it. She looks the same, despite being a little taller, and maybe her hair’s gotten a little longer.

“Oh, y’know. Same old.”

She snorts. “Word on the street is you owe me some money.”

You groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll get that to you this week. Nice to see you, too.”

“Hey! It is nice to see you! I haven’t in a while, I’m sorry.” Max wraps her arms around your shoulders. “I missed you, y’know.”

“I missed you too, Maxie. How are things?”

“They’re alright. I don’t live here anymore, that’s a big plus.”

“Oh yeah?”

She nods. “Moved out after college, got a place in the city with Lucas. I’ll show you some time this week maybe?”

You nod. “For sure.”

“But enough about my endeavors, how are you? Y’know, with all this shit going on?”

You shake your head. “I dunno, dude. Weird, I guess. Everything’s weird.”

“I take it you and Eddie aren’t officially back together, then?”

“Not exactly. But not, not together. Does that make sense?”

“Not at all. Good to see you two haven’t changed too much.”

You giggle, nudging her shoulder with yours. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, c’mon! You two used to dance around the idea of dating before you started. You think we didn’t notice? I was fifteen, not stupid! It took you so much time to admit you liked each other, then even more time to figure out you needed to break up. Now here we are again, watching Eddie and Y/n tiptoe around their feelings for each other.”

You sigh, the alcohol not letting you fully grasp what she’s saying. “I hate when you’re right.”

She grins smugly. “I know, and I’m sorry. It happens a lot.”

Before you can respond, Eddie throws the screen door open. “Who’s ready to play some chicken?” He’s very drunk, but not in the sad and angry way you’re used to seeing him lately.

Max gives you another grin, and you roll your eyes before getting to your feet. “You’re in for it now, team Scoops.” You point across the pool, where Robin and Steve stand in their bathing suits discussing strategy. Eddie shoves his pants to the ground, revealing a too small pair of swim trunks you're sure have belonged to him since freshman year. He tugs his shirt over his head, discarding it with his pants in the grass. You do your best not to stare at the tattoos scattered on his torso, littering his arms. You refuse to look further than his chest, not risking even a glance at his waist, his hips. Instead of gawking like you want to, you pay close attention to undoing the button of your cutoff shorts, shimmying out of them and tossing them onto the chair beside you.You’re completely exposed, standing only in the tiniest bikini you own because it was the only one you could find before leaving.

As much as you don’t want to draw his attention, the feeling of Eddie’s eyes on your body surges your confidence. Without looking back, you get into the pool, taking each step slowly to adjust to the temperature. It’s fairly warm, and you say a quick thank you prayer. You definitely cannot be walking around with pointy nips right now. Eddie wades in behind you, splashing you in his wake, steps clumsy. Once he’s settled, he turns to face you, squatting so the water reaches his chest.

“You ready, sweetheart?” You try not to seem fazed by his slip. He stopped calling you that after you broke up, and the only times he has since then, he’s apologized for it. Now, though, with his guard down and his judgment obscured, he smirks at you like he knows what he’s just done. You pretend you don’t get it.

“Sure thing, Munson.” No pretty boy, not even this drunk. He’s not yours, not now.

If he notices, he doesn’t let it show, keeping the same expression as he motions you forward. You’ve done this hundreds of times, over the course of the few summers you had in Hawkins. You and Eddie used to drive over on Fridays and stay the weekend with Rob, Steve, Nancy, and Jonathan, babysitting the kids and enjoying your time as immature adults while you still could. It feels the same, even after all those years have passed, you’re still in the same small town, with the same group of friends, playing the same stupid games. You climb onto his shoulders, and try not to react when his hands grasp tightly on each thigh, locked on either side of his head.

“Alright, listen up!” Dustin has gathered the rest of your friends beside the pool, while scattered guests you barely remember from your semester in high school crowd around to spectate. “This is Drown The Chicken. The first person to fall off of their partner loses. There will be three rounds, each one five minutes. A shot of liquor will be taken by the loser after each round. If both opponents fail to knock the other off of their partner, a tiebreaker will take place. Today, the tie breaker will be…” He pauses for dramatic effect, and Mike takes the opportunity to slap his legs in a drumroll. “A shotgun race!” The whole backyard cheers, and you groan. The worst thing about these kids being in college, is that they’re too young to realize drinking is not the only thing adults do. It is one of the most fun, though.

“Both members of each team will shotgun a malt beverage of their choosing. First one to finish wins the tiebreaker for their team, and therefore the round! At the end, the losers will have to drink a shot of the winners’ choosing!” The four of you nod in understanding. Regardless, you know you’ll have to drink at some point. “On your mark, get set, GO!” Will clicks his timer, and the party guests start cheering, egging you on. You hear shouts of, “I’ve got ten on Munson and L/n!” and “Kick his ass!” and Robin reaches for you suddenly, catching you off guard. The music is cranked through the speakers, giving the match a soundtrack of Pixies’ Here Comes Your Man. Steve wades toward you, Robin clutching a handful of his precious hair to keep her balance. You take advantage of his winces of “Ouch, Rob, not the hair!” and shove, sending Robin almost entirely backwards. Steve catches her at the last second, wobbling as he tries to keep her out of the water.

“Lucky shot!” Robin shouts, stretching her arms out toward you. You lean back, and Eddie catches you, gripping your thighs tightly on his shoulders. He moves with you, saving your equilibrium, and you stretch towards Robin. The two of you tangle your arms, while the boys below you swat at each other, hurling meaningless insults and taunts. Finally, you gain the advantage, shoving Robin’s shoulder with enough force to send her backwards, slipping quickly from Steve’s grasp. She splashes into the water, submerged up to her neck. “Shit.”

“That’s one for team Hellfire!” Dustin claps his hands loudly as he hands your opponents each a shot, and you giggle as Robin struggles to climb back onto Steve’s back, their skin now slippery with pool water.

“Nice moves.” Eddie cranes his neck, and you meet his eyes. His face is soft with intoxication, his guard lowered. Yours is higher than ever, though, and you look away before he can reel you in any further.

“Round two!” You repeat the motions, this time while Smells Like Teen Spirit blares from the radio, and your former classmates yelling and cheering for their preferred team. Robin catches you by surprise, kicking one of your knees enough to throw you off balance, then shoving you to the side. You topple off of Eddie’s shoulders, into the cool water. You stay there for a second, keeping your eyes closed to avoid looking at Eddie’s surely disappointed expression.

But when you dare to peek through one eye, the other still tightly shut, he’s smiling at you. Not his usual toothy grin, the one he gives to his friends. His smile is soft, lips pressed together as if to stop them from quivering with a rogue giggle.

He’s drunk, you remind yourself. You have to remember he’s drunk.

“What now, Munson?!” Steve sends a splash at Eddie, and he scoffs in mock disgust.

“Boys, please, you’ll have plenty of time to play mermaids after Eddie and I kick your ass.” Eddie giggles as you climb his back, repositioning yourself on top of him. It’s more difficult, now that both of you are soaked from the neck down. Dustin hands you both a shot, Eddie’s whiskey and yours vodka, and you both down them easily.

“Final round, people! This round wins it all! See Max to confirm your bets. Are the teams ready?” The four of you give variations of a confirmation, and Dustin shouts, once again, “On your mark… get set… GO!” You square your body to hold better balance, as Eddie and Steve approach each other slowly. Eddie’s hands grip your thighs tightly, and you hope he can’t feel the heat growing between your legs. Not now.

You continue to dodge and dance around each other, narrowly missing one another as you swing your limbs, stretching and reaching for Robin as Eddie tries to sneak around Steve’s guard. After five long minutes, Dustin startles you with the newly found volume in his voice. “TIME’S UP! WE HAVE A TIE!” You can hear the conflicting emotions of the crowd, probably correlating to their own predictions. “Y’all know what that means!” The four of you sulk as you leave the water, defeated by the dreaded tie breaker.

Lucas passes you each a can and a miscellaneous tool to puncture it with. You’ve barely grown to like beer, even after months of being surrounded by it, but it’s the only thing available that you’re physically able to shotgun. You’ve chosen a Red Stripe, in honor of your teammate.

“The rules of the tiebreaker are as follows: You will puncture your can when I say go, and you will chug for thirty seconds before opening the top. The first person to finish their beverage wins the tiebreaker for their team. Got it?” Eddie groans a confirmation, while you and Robin nod and Steve taps each side of his face lightly to psych himself out. Dustin counts you off again, and you each stab your cans, quickly rushing the liquid into your mouth. Will counts from 30 out loud as he watches the timer, and the crowd is eerily quiet, focused on the race in front of them.

“30! Crack ‘em open!” You do as you’re told, quickly snapping the tab of the can to relieve the pressure. You can tell you’re slowing down, grossed out by the bread flavored piss water sliding down your throat. Luckily, though, Eddie is devouring his own, his head tilted to make sure he’s getting all of it. The feeling between your legs has returned, and you quickly shoot your gaze to Robin, who’s also struggling to finish her beer. In reality, this is a race between Steve and Eddie, winner takes all. All in this case is bragging rights, and probably a horrible hangover.

Eddie is the first to finish, lifting the can above his head in celebration. Thank god, too, because you definitely shouldn’t consume another shot.

“We have a winner!” Dustin runs between you and Eddie, hoisting each of your wrists to the air as the backyard guests cheer and boo and yell. You chance another look in Eddie’s direction, admiring his whoops of victory as he high fives his bandmates.

Eddie’s POV

It’s 3AM as the party starts to die, and people he’d never spoken to in high school approach him to say their goodbyes. Eddie is pulled into hugs, handshakes, and conversations with his former bullies, and girls that never looked at him twice. Though his eighteen year old self would be relishing in this sudden change, he’s tired. He knows it’s not real, that none of these people even care about his art. They care that he’s famous, and that they know someone famous. But the only person in this room that knows him is behind him, falling asleep on the basement sofa.

“Hey, Y/n?” Eddie is finally able to approach you, after breaking away from another pointless conversation. “You wanna get going?”

Your eyes slide to his face, glassy and warm with inebriation. “Aw, you’re leaving?” You pout, staring up at him, and he could melt. You’d been talking about going home not five minutes ago, but it’s clear your brain has stalled.

“Only if you wanna. We can stay as long as you want.”

“I can come with you?”

He can't help but laugh, you’re so cute like this, so soft. “Of course you can.”

“I thought you were sick of me.” Your face slips slightly, lips twitching into a frown.

“What?” Eddie shifts so his whole body faces you. “I could never be sick of you.”

You shrug, clearly not understanding the gravity of his words. “I dunno, we’ve been in close quarters since tour started, I don’t mind giving you space if you need it.”

It’s Eddie’s turn to feel his own drunken insecurity surface. “Are you sick of me?” It’s barely a whisper, but you hear him.

Your eyes widen quickly, shocked at his words. “No! Eddie, of course not.”

“Okay, good.” He flashes you what he knows is an unconvincing smile. “You wanna go home?”

You shake your head. “Can we go for a walk?”

Predictably, you end up back at Hawkins High, the parking lot pitch black in the buzz of a summer night. Even looking at it, Eddie feels the chill of his memories washing over him. This is where he was stuck for six years, where Steve had shoved him into a locker their freshman year, where Jason Carver had made his final senior year miserable. It is the building that harbors Eddie’s darkest thoughts, where the seed of his shame had sprouted from. Where he had to deal with Chrissy’s death, and being framed for it.

But it was also where he met you. Where he’d introduced you to some of his closest friends, where he sat with you at lunch every day, dancing around each other until after midterms. As much as Eddie still hates to admit it, and as horrendously tacky as it sounds, high school is where he’d fallen in love.

Eddie lets his eyes wander in the darkness, knowing you won’t catch him in your hazy state. Your arms hang limply by your sides as you stare up at the school building, seeming to admire it. He wonders how being here must make you feel, as someone that left as soon as they could. It hadn’t been easy for you either, restarting your entire social life in your senior year.

“Do you ever miss it?” Your words catch him off guard, your voice almost inaudible even in the quiet.

“Hell no,” He scoffs, and feels you shift beside him. “I spent way too much extra time here to even think of missing it.”

“Okay, maybe not the actual, physical place. But, don't you miss how easy it was?”

“You’re joking, right? We fought an underground of Hell Monsters, Y/n, that wasn’t what I’d call easy.”

You groan, and he chuckles at your drunken frustration. “Christ, okay, I mean how small our world was, before all that hell monster shit. We didn’t have to worry about people outside of Hawkins, outside of the little bubble of our friends.”

“And you miss that?” He’s genuinely curious. You had always been looking to move, spread out beyond the small town your parents dragged you to. He never expected you to miss it.

You shrug. “Sometimes, yeah. Despite everything that happened, I was happy here. I had a home.”

Eddie’s vision blurs with the implication of your words. Of course, you’d had a physical home, but you'd also had him. And Steve, Robin, Nance, the kids. You’d never had a solid friend group in Boston.

“I miss parts of it,” He finally confesses, turning his head to fully look at you again. “Some more than others.”

You look for him, finding his eyes easily in the dark, and he adjusts quickly to see you better.

“You think things will ever be that easy again?” There’s a hint of optimism in your voice, and it begs him to join it, just for a second.

“I really, really hope so.”

Your POV

Somehow, you and Eddie find your way back to Steve’s, tiptoeing clumsily through the front door to a mass of passed out Hawkins alum. Steve is sprawled on the couch, while Dustin and Mike are on the floor beside him. In the basement, Will and El are cleaning the empty bottles and red solo cups from the absolutely destroyed basement, bobbing and weaving around members of Corroded Coffin and DDA, and they inform you Lucas and Max have gone back to Nancy’s already. Upstairs, the rest of your friends are in respective bedrooms, sleeping to prepare for their unavoidable hangovers.

“There’s one room left.” Eddie leads the way to Steve’s parents’ bedroom, the only one left untouched by party guests.

You peel the heavy comforter back, shimmying off your shorts, so tired and so absolutely plastered at this point, you don’t realize he’s watching as you untie your bikini top, letting it fall to the floor.

“Whoa! Um,” Eddie spins himself to face the window, losing his balance as he does. Even though he can’t see you, he still smacks his hands over his eyes. “I, uh, I’m gonna go find a spot on the floor.” He begins to sidestep towards the door, still refusing to look at you without a top on.

“Eddie,” You know the alcohol is making you flirty, and you’ll probably regret this tomorrow, but fuck it. You’re on vacation. You tug on Eddie’s shoulder, turning him to face you. He keeps his eyes glued to your face, barely blinking, definitely not letting them wander. “Stay here.”

He clears his throat, wincing. “Y/n,” Your pout cuts him off. “What’s that face for?”

“It’s weird, hearing my name out of your mouth. It was always sweetheart. Or baby, or pretty, or love. Now I’m just Y/n.” Your words slur together, exhaustion taking hold. You let your fingers dance up his bare arm, his shirt still somewhere in Steve’s yard. Still not daring to move his eyes from your face, he has an answer almost immediately.

“You’re not just Y/n, you’re Y/n! The Y/n, actually, a songwriting, vocalizing, rockstar badass. I’ve seen it firsthand.”

“Well then, the Y/n wants the Eddie Munson in bed with them.” It’s a bold choice of words, but you don’t care. You need him right now, even through the thick fog of the liquor.

“I want to, you have no idea how badly i want to, Y/n, I promise you that,”

“Then why won’t you?”

“Because I shouldn’t. I can’t.” He’s blunt. There is no arguing, he’s made up his mind.

And still, you prod him with inquiries. “Is it because we’re drunk? Because I trust you. I know you wouldn’t hurt me, Ed.”

He sighs, his hand finally moving to caress your burning cheek. “It’s because we’re drunk, but not because I'm scared of hurting you. I can’t let our first time together in two years be something you’ll regret tomorrow, but I also can’t chance either of us forgetting it.” He says it quietly, like he’s had the volume on himself turned down. You’ve heard him anyway, but it takes you a second to digest what he’s said.

“Okay,” You accept his answer, and before he can turn to leave you add, “Can you just sleep next to me?”

Eddie hesitates for a second, searching your expression. He must find an answer, because he nods. “Okay, sweetheart. But I gotta have you put a shirt on. For my own sake.”

You giggle, the satisfaction of hearing your nickname making you malleable to his words, nodding in agreement. Eddie exits the bedroom, and returns a bit later with a piece of fabric in his hand. His shirt. Of course it’s his shirt, what was he gonna do, give you Steve’s to sleep in?

You’re surrounded by his smell, his warmth, instantaneously. You crawl into the king sized bed, pulling the covers up to your chin. You hear Eddie’s pants drop to the floor, before he climbs into bed, hoisting the covers to slide underneath them. You scoot back, and he knows now to wrap his arm around your waist, without the weird hesitation and awkward shuffling before you give up for the sake of comfort. Eddie rests his face behind your neck, the warm exhale of breath tickling your skin.

“Goodnight, baby.” He mumbles into the fabric of your-slash-his shirt, and your body vibrates with glee.

“Goodnight, baby.”

tag list: @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @wiildflower-xxx @beebeerockknot @champagne-glamour @xxgothwhorexx @therensistance @chonkzombie @brxkenartt @sidthedollface2 @gaysludge @poisonedluv @eddiesguitarskills @kellsck | send a message to be added🫶

#eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson x reader #gn!reader #afab!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #slow burn #mutual pining #fundamental differing #new kid fic #stranger things #strangerthingscentral #st4 #bff!steve harrington #bff!robin buckley

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catnykit · 9 months ago

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🄸🄽🅃🅁🄾🄿🄾🅂🅃

♖☯ 𓃠 𓃬𓃠 𓃬𓃠 𓃬𓃠 𓃬𓃠 𓃬𓃠 𓃬𓃠🥀🕳

Hi!!! Cat here :3 I spawned here and im figuring stuff out. Like i dont know what im doing this might be in constant change.

Info about me is in the desc!! I didnt think I would need a intropost but well,Here we are!

some things you might want to know about the blog are:

I constantly join ask games and then completly forget so if youre gonna ask based on an ask game aslo link the ask game pls ♡

I dont exacly have a dni,Just interact with me and we'll see!

I LOVE being tagged or getting asks so if you think anything is from my interest,Or anything that reminded you of me or my ocs,Dont hesitate (Or do hesitate to check for the things i avoid below this first I guess)

(IMPORTANT NOTE: I AM LITERALLY SCARED OF ANY KIND OF IRL HOSTILITY,OR DRAMA. LIKE. EVEN WHEN ITS NOT DIRECTED TOWARDS ME,IT WILL TRIGGER ME AND UPSET ME. I AM AN EXTREMELY SKITTISH CREATURE. TAKE THIS IN MIND.)(maybe releted to whats below 👇)

This blog is a safe place to ignore reality for a bit or atleast I try to make it as fictional as possible,I'll always tag "#Reality tw" whenever I consider something is on thin ice but I feel the need to reblog it. aslo. #rageposting is common here so i I recommend you block that tag

So,Welcome to this strange realm! Here we have cat biology and Angsty whump writing!

(Aka:Beware because there is a lot of fictional yet fucked up untagged work)(aslo just ask me about cat biology i can't find thigs to reblog ᴖ̈)

Thats basically it,In fact,This blog was supposed to be a whump blog is just that I repost all kinds of stuff,Even my hyperfixiations and fandoms sometimes!!! And more! You can even find my random thoughts under #Cat says stuff

Im a writter for fun but I aslo like my tiny witty piece of recognition,So if you like one of my stories,

I BEG YOU,COMMENT ABOUT IT I normally dont have the energy to actually write down my stories,So if you want to see more make sure of atleast leave a keyboard smash for support♡

And finally,Here's my own fucked up whumpy writing! :D (Slow,random updates♡)

🫀▁ ▂ ▄ ▅ ▆ ▇ █ 🐈‍⬛█ ▇ ▆ ▅ ▄ ▂ ▁ 🫁

Writing (mostly whump)ideas:

Whump idea#0 whumpee's by control (old)

whump idea #1【woods+maggots+insanity? Not a good deal.】

Whump idea#2 【THE TORTURE JAR+NONHUMAN GIANT WHUMPER & CARETAKER】

The Original Stories

(Fun Fact about my masterlist: i put the tag of stuff on the tittle)

🅃🄷🄴 🄲🅄🅁🅂🄴 🄾🄵 🄽🄾🅆🄷🄴🅁🄴: MAIN TW: IMPLIED MURDER,PSYCHOLOGICAL WHUMP Deidamia rotari,Better known as The Nowhere Killer,Passes throught all sorts of horrors in this one-shot collection series that the author will upload randomly and if it makes sense or not is independent. This is just the author having fun with an OC and it will NOT be chronological . (It will be numbered anyway to avoid confusion)

(More ocs may spawn)

....

(....or despawn.)

🅵🅾🅻🅻🅾🆆🅸��🅶 🅵🅻🅾🅰🆃🅸🅽🅶 🆂🆃🅴🅿🆂(PSEUDO CANCELLED) : MAIN TW: IMPLIED MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH

The idea is to see the world in the eyes of a ghost. I dont know if I can put this idea on paper properly,Time will say weird ass hiatus cuz im planning to MAYBE remake this. who knows (not me).

FRAGMENT 1: A POOR DEVIL (MAIN TW: SUICIDAL THEMES,OLD AND IN NEED OF REMAKE)

🫀▁ ▂ ▄ ▅ ▆ ▇ █ 🐈‍⬛█ ▇ ▆ ▅ ▄ ▂ ▁ 🫁

My favorite writing tropes are (In order): EMOTIONAL/PSYCHOLOGICAL WHUMP. WHUMPER(S) BEING HURT,AKA DYNAMIC/REVERSING ROLES. SELF HARM WHUMP/SUICIDE. CHEERFULL/SADISTIC WHUMPER. LAB WHUMP/MEDICAL WHUMP. STOIC/NONLACHANT WHUMPEE. PET WHUMP/CONDITIONED WHUMPEE. COSMIC WHUMP. WHUMPER TURNED CARETAKER(again,dynamic roles.) SPECIFIC WHUMP THINGS I LIKE: suffocation n variarions Fainting Human whumpee × Nonhuman caretaker DETAILED GORE/VIVISECTION N STUFF(ironic cuz my love is between extreme gore and extreme trauma in a constant tug-of-war ♡) My squicks are: editing this,Anything that's frustrating. now,here's a list; bad endings. Recapture. ...and that's it! im still findind out.

My Triggers are: I am starting to belive im D*ck repulsed. or suggestive intimacy repulsed? idk

♖☯ 𓃠 𓃬𓃠 𓃬𓃠 𓃬𓃠 𓃬𓃠 𓃬𓃠 𓃬𓃠 🥀🕳

#Masterpost #whump community #whump #Cat #Cat lover #Idk what to tag #writing community #writeblr #creative writing #oc #ocs #my ocs

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chibishortdeath · 1 year ago

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So I was playing Simon’s Quest (again) earlier and you guys might know by now that I’m incredibly normal (extremely deranged) about that game, but it’s got me thinking about something: what exactly are the hearts and why are they the money in this game?

Hearts in the first game and almost every game after Simon’s Quest are the thing that you need to collect to be able to use subweapons and they primarily come from candles, but enemies can drop them too. But in Simon’s Quest, while they do still power a couple subweapons, it’s only the ones we’ve never seen before like the Sacred Flame and Golden Knife while not being used for the Holy Water, something that does in every other game. And they only come from enemies because there’s no candles. And there’s different sizes of them. And collecting enough of them levels Simon up. And their primary function is completely shifted to currency!!! Odd, isn’t it?

And the whole way that you buy anything in this game is really framed like some black market sketchy deal. These sellers (or crooked traders with bum deals lol) are primarily holed away in their houses under one or two layers of walls and floors only breakable by magical infinite Holy Water, something only the local badass vampire hunter guy would have after having bought some with said hearts in the first town, or they’re way tucked away in the thick of these Dracula’s army overtaken mansions, some of them even standing directly where skeletons walk past them or in between relatively large pits of spikes. Whatever the reason, these guys obviously want this fairly secret. (Aside from the first town white crystal guy, he’s fine being out in the open lol.)

So what gives??? What is Simon grinding monsters for and trading with the locals for weapons and herbs???

Now this is where things get really ✨speculative✨. I’m gonna put the cut here for suspense and intrigue I guess lol XD. This is gonna be a lot of me thinking out loud and throwing down ideas, not really like a confirmed answer to anything, just havin fun thinkin about a part of a game d(•w• )

I think there’s a few possibilities. They could be the same thing that they are other games or they could be something different just used similarly as a power source.

But first we gotta break down what hearts could be in Cv1. In a lot of the games they seem to be some kind of a general mana, a magic energy possibly not unlike how metaphysical/magical things are depicted in other media. Perhaps the subweapons themselves are magic objects and not really a physical thing that require “hearts” to be conjured. Maybe they could be physical objects that need to be enchanted with “hearts” to be anywhere comparable to Vampire Killer level usefulness. Just a few possibilities.

If the hearts in Simon’s Quest are the same thing, then this kinda makes some sense. Simon trading monster soul energy or whatever with presumably magic users for things he needs on his Quest, especially since things like Laurels (also can be called bay laurels or bay leaves) are commonly used in spells and who better to be selling a spell component than someone who does spells! Also, it makes sense that these people would be fairly out of sight as magic use was still a touchy subject at the time.

Now I don’t know how accurate this is, and if I do find a source somewhere in my way too many bookmarks I will reblog this and link it to it, but I remember reading somewhere in an interview about either SotN or one of the games made close before it that the candles are like the souls of Dracula and his army’s victims that you free when you hit them and they leave you a little parting gift for it. Yes, these games were made way after, so it’s not certain if that was the original intent of these, but I figured it adds something to this.

But what if the hearts in Simon’s Quest are not the same thing? After all, the Holy Water doesn’t use them and we can’t say if they would or not work for other subweapons that appear in CV1 since they aren’t in this one. Well there’s something else that could be dropping from killing monsters that could also fit into the above probability that these traders are magic users and it’s a little darker!

Hearts! Bones! General viscera! And this also kinda makes sense! I mean the whole plot of the game revolves around Simon already carrying pieces of Dracula’s corpse around to burn all together on an altar to cure his and the surrounding area’s curse, it’s not that far of a stretch to say that he’d be fine with carrying around pieces of other monsters and that magic users might be willing to trade things for them so they can use them in their own spells, potions, and so on. And that might also explain why Holy Water isn’t powered by hearts and is incredibly weak in comparison in this game. And why these weird, new subweapons seem to be Simon exclusive! They could be powered by things like monster blood instead of the usual magic energy-ish stuff we’re used to hearts symbolizing.

Regardless of if I’m right or not with either of these, Simon is probably taking advantage of some underground monster essence/organs trade the whole game and this is just such an interesting batshit detail for him as a character.

Anyway, I love this game so much, I’m gonna be spreading propaganda for it like this a lot hopefully lol. Okie that’s it hope that was fun, do with this information what you will :)

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hoofusdoofus · 4 months ago

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Still think the reblog web visualizer is one of the COOLEST features on any social networking site I'm a VERY niche blog (read as: weird queer kinky furry) so normally my stuff doesn't take off beyond my little corner of the internet but when any of my posts do it always inspires a kind of awe when I look at the reblog graph. Look at this!

That's so fuckin cool! Each one of those dots is a person, each of those lines is a link weaved between them, a reblog, a share. Look at how we come together in such intricate ways. A constellation of connection and understanding made by such brief moments of interaction. Each contribution is so fleeting, just a singular press of a button, nothing more and nothing less, and yet look at what all those compounded upon eachother can create! It's so wild, crazy to me that we live in a world where this is possible, where its a common occurrence even! Puts stuff into perspective, I guess

#deercowsheepie rambles #reblog graph fuckin rules its cool

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i-can-even-burn-salad · 2 years ago

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Tumblr Links and You

Update: Everything’s broken and nothing works anymore (:

Leaving this post up in the futile hope it will change again.

I don't know where else people widely link to their own posts, but I see it a lot for writing masterlists. All the points here are for the desktop site, since the mobile apps don't really give you a choice.

So there are 3 types of url formats on this hellsite.

1) The normal one.

Good. Solid. Famililar. 10/10. Would click.

https://i-can-even-burn-salad.tumblr.com/post/703901997973258240

Blogname, folllowed by /post/, followed by post-ID.

THIS LINK will lead you to a post on the OP's blog, showing the blog's custom theme. No bulllshit, no redirections, as easy as could be. Easiest to grab it is by using the browser's "Copy Link" function on your dash. The link format for the post (and, if available, the person you reblogged from) on top of the post, next to the little ... menu, is this one.

2) The "dash view" one.

https://www.tumblr.com/i-can-even-burn-salad/703901997973258240

Questionable. Ok I guess. 6/10. But moooooom.

Tumblr first, then blogname, then post-ID.

THIS LINK opens the post in the "dash view", which means it's a default themed blog view popping up over your dash. No custom themes. If you want to see the blog's theme, you gotta click on the link (same spot as described in 1, but in the blog view of that post) and open it IN A NEW TAB.

Default for blogs that can only be viewed on dash, and those that have custom themes disabled. BUT ALSO as of like 2 months ago, this is the link that's applied to all OPs in a reblog chain as shown in the picture below.

3) The tracking link.

https://at.tumblr.com/i-can-even-burn-salad/703901997973258240/gfvu6e1v5psc

Starts with at.tumblr.com. No, GOD no. Why would you do that? Kill it with FIRE. 0/10.

THIS LINK is what you get when you click on "Copy Link". The one I listed here will resolve in such a mess: https://i-can-even-burn-salad.tumblr.com/post/703901997973258240?_branch_match_id=1099084081258429745&utm_medium=Share&_branch_referrer=H4sIAAAAAAAAAwXBCxKAEBAA0BOxKGm7zZI%2BM8iwnL%2F3HubaDwBiySP71GT4MrwiUBFxxiL8aEV0SnSCUwsqjejQLcbuZlVwX3NsUU9be%2FgBzzNz90sAAAA%3D

It's the spawn of the devil. It's not a straight redirect, but something has to work in the background to put all the fancy tracking back on - which fails on the mobile app if you block tracking with a pi hole, for example (:

Tracking links are bad enough. Tracking links that fail if you tie their nasty little hands are worse. We all hate tracking here. Then don't put those tracking links on your lists, PLEASE.

Unless you're on mobile, lol. Guess you're fucked then.

Image to explain:

[D: A screenshot of a reblogged tumblr post on dash, with the meatball menu expanded. The blog names at the very top of the post (current poster and reblogged from) are labeled 1) The Good Link. The blog name of the OP of the post is labeled 2) The OK Link. Inside the meatball menu, the point “Copy Link” is labeled 3) The Bad Link. End ID.]

Date of this post: December 2022. They keep changing stuff around, so it might not be like this a few weeks/months from now.

Update 2023-03-25: On web. at.tumblr links stopped getting resolved. We shall see if this issue will be fixed, but I’d strongly suggest never using those links in masterlists.

Also I realized that by posting a dot, I did not allow tumblr to set a “plain name” for my post, which is why it shows the post ID even in the at.tumblr link. Usually, that is not the case. It would read something like “tumblr-links-and-you”, which does not help at all to find the post. You need the numbers-only ID.

Update 2023-05-30: Well fuck you too, staff. All the good links are gone (: At the moment, there is no way to grab any custom theme link - 1) the normal one - anymore.

#tumblr stuff

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screechthemighty · 2 years ago

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Hello, People Who Read My Resident Evil Fanfics, I'm back!!!! (May be back even more over the next few months, tbh. I don't want to make any promises, but Dracula Daily is hyperfixation-adjacent and getting back into RE4 Remake is up next on my content roster, so who knows?) AO3 link will be in a reblog, but here's the next chapter of catch me floating circles in my fish bowl!

catch me floating circles in my fish bowl - part three:

May 2, 2021:

“Zoe’s fine. She’s shopping at the grocery store like normal, at least.” Carlos showed him a picture on his phone. It took Ethan a second to recognize her. Her hair was all white, and she looked less desperately thin than he remembered. She was buying chips and standing next to a brick wall of a man with a serious case of resting bitch face. He looked familiar, but not quite familiar.

“Joe Baker?” Ethan guessed. “Glad to see she’s still got some family left.” Especially family like Joe Baker. If Chris was right, the guy had punched his way through the site to get to Zoe. He’s probably the only person in this mess more unhinged than I am. And he meant that as a compliment. “Thank you again for this. I know it’s probably paranoid, but with everything going on…”

How was he to know that the BSAA hadn’t gone after her? She could be just as valuable a resource as Ethan.

Speaking of…

“Still nothing from the BSAA?”

“Not that I’ve heard. I feel like that’s not gonna change until you leave. They don’t have a cause to investigate Blue openly and I don’t think they’d suspect Chris of bringing you here, so…” Carlos shrugged. “They’re probably keeping a closer eye on Terra Save. You have physical therapy today?”

Ethan’s mood soured instantly. “No,” he admitted. “I mean, I was supposed to, but I fell last time and they’re worried I fucked up my ankle, so we didn’t do much.” He hoped he didn’t look too petulant. “I know, if I hurt myself it could slow my healing down, I need to be careful…”

“Don’t forget it’s a miracle you’re walking at all,” Carlos pointed out. “You should still be bedridden.”

“Technically, I should be dead, but I get your point. Still, it’s just…”

Frustrating. It was all so damn frustrating. His self-appointed deadline was this month. He didn’t need to run a marathon or anything. He just wanted to walk on his own. Any patience he might’ve had for his body and its shortcomings had gone out the window now that the novelty of being alive had worn off.

“...to be clear, I’m asked this as a concerned friend, not as the guy responsible for you, but…they’ve got you seeing a therapist, right?” Carlos said. “Like…for your brain.”

“Yeah, they have,” Ethan said. “We’re still working on Dulvey. Turns out, almost being murdered under extreme bullshit circumstances is even more traumatic than just almost being murdered. Who would’ve thought?”

Carlos wince-laughed in a way that said he knew exactly what Ethan meant. “At least your guy has probably heard it all by now,” he said. “We didn’t have that when I was going.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I think the chainsaw scissors threw him off.”

“...the fucking what?”

Ethan probably shouldn’t have found that funny, but honestly? It was a little hilarious that he could one-up Carlos in the weirdness department.

Just a little.

Mia had been avoiding her therapist.

She knew, objectively, that avoiding her therapist probably looked worse than anything she could have actually said in therapy. She knew that whatever she said would stay in that room, that even her criminal past was safe to talk about. She knew this could be helpful, that it might let her sort out her thought spirals and fears and her increasing discomfort with being around Ethan.

But she couldn’t bring herself to go. Going meant actually admitting to everything–to all these dark thoughts, to all the shit she’d done. The thought of saying it out loud and having another person hear made her physically sick.

But she couldn’t stay away forever, so she finally went, with the intention of appearing as put-together and fine as possible.

She failed within five minutes.

“So, you’re concerned that Ethan is pushing himself too hard,” her therapist said. Doctor Reid was a no-nonsense sort of woman, the kind who cut right to the chase. It probably made her a great therapist, but these days, it mostly made Mia want to kill her.

“Ethan’s…” Mia tried to think of how best to phrase it. “...selfless to a fault. I don’t want him thinking about me right now. He should be focused on himself.”

Dr. Reid nodded and wrote something down. “Am I correct in assuming you’ve had this argument before?”

Mia tried to stay calm. It was difficult when visions of every argument they had since Mia learned she was pregnant started dancing through her mind.

We matter, Ethan! You matter! He’d been so caught up in protecting Rose, even before she was born. She’d known the lengths Ethan had gone to protect her. Known that he would go just as far for Rose, if not further. It was part of the reason she’d been so afraid to tell him what the mold had done to them. If he’d come to the same conclusions they had–that the BSAA had been deliberately negligent to unknown ends–who knew what he might have done?

The sound of pen against paper drew her out of her racing thoughts. Dr. Reid must have taken her silence as an answer. “Have you discussed this with him at all?”

Mia forced her voice to stay flat. “I’ve told him it’s okay to recover at his own pace,” she said. “He knows that we’re safe.”

“Maybe, but there’s more to the conversation than that, I think.” Dr. Reid put her pen down. “Are you frightened of what your husband might do?”

Damn this woman. “Why would I be? He protects us.”

“And he nearly died doing so, twice. That’s difficult to discuss. Objectively, he’s not wrong. Protecting those you care about is noble. But the survivor’s guilt you would’ve felt…” She picked back up her pen. “...and the guilt I’m sure you feel now are still very real. It could be easy for him to forget that.”

Mia felt her jaw go tense. “It’s not about that.”

“What is it about?’

“It’s my fault…”

Damn it. Damn it. Doctor Reid knew about the Connections, of course she did, but that didn’t mean Mia had to bring it up.

Doctor Reid glanced up. “You blame yourself,” she said finally, “because you think your time with the Connections is the reason Ethan ended up the way he did?”

The plan was not to reply, but Doctor Reid just sat there, waiting for an answer. Screw it. If this woman wanted an answer, she’d get her damn answer.

“I don’t think. I know. If I hadn’t been working for the Connections, I never would’ve ended up in Dulvey and he wouldn’t have had to save me. That’s where he got infected. That’s where the Rose got infected.”

“And if the BSAA had been honest, Ethan would’ve been cured, or his condition would have been managed,” Doctor Reid pointed out. “Maybe if they’d been honest, you two would have chosen not to have children. If Mirand had left you alone, or never learned about you, Ethan wouldn’t have had to save you a second time. Yes, your actions were one of the dominoes, but they were also just that. One of the dominoes. Why do you think you should shoulder all the blame?” Doctor Reid paused. “Why do you think Ethan thinks you should shoulder all the blame?”

“I don’t think that. I…”

She didn’t know. And that was really the worst part. So much of her was convinced that he wouldn’t blame her, which was bad in its own way. But the anxiety, the guilt, had her convinced that he would. There was no version of the story where this ended well.

“If I may,” Doctor Reid said. “You worry about Ethan pushing himself too hard and you worry about him getting into danger again. I assume this worry is compounded by the fact that you blame yourself for everything that’s happened, which in turn makes you feel that you’re not worthy of that protection. These are very strong emotions that are going to impact your interactions with Ethan, especially since you’ve had these disagreements before. Do you think I’m wrong?”

“...no.” It was a miracle it hadn’t impacted things already–or, at least, that it hadn’t in such a strong way that Ethan had noticed and started asking questions.

“Have you tried communicating with him about what’s been bothering you? You said Ethan had been keen to talk in the past. Perhaps if you had some mediation…”

“You offer couple’s counseling, too?”

“Actually, I’d find a third party, but we do have those.”

Of course they did. Nothing like a viral outbreak to put a strain on a marriage, right? Mia nearly burst out laughing at the thought, but managed to keep it together. Barely.

“I’ll think about it,” Mia said.

And she would. She just had a feeling she already knew what her answer was going to be.

May 5, 2021:

“You’ve got to be absolutely shitting me.”

Credit to everyone in the room: they were really doing their best not to laugh, or were treating it just as seriously as Ethan felt. Because he was taking this seriously. Because it was bullshit.

“Everything I’ve been through,” he said, staring down the cold compress on his arm, “all of that bullshit. And I’m still…” The only thing that kept him from swearing was Rose being in the room, staring him down with a slightly concerned look. “...I’m still allergic to bees?!”

“It would seem so, yes,” Doctor Marshall said calmly. “Do you want to hear something reassuring?”

“There’s something reassuring about this situation?”

“Your body is having a normal reaction to the sting. Not an exaggerated one, and it hasn’t triggered anything else in your healing. That’s a good sign.”

Damn it, he had a point. “I guess,” Ethan grumbled. Then, “Bees?!”

Jill finally broke the no-laughing rule with a barely muffled snort. “Sorry…” Her pale blue eyes were lit up with amusement as she tried not to make eye contact. “...no, it sucks, it really does…”

That probably should’ve pissed him off more, but…okay, yeah, it was funny-not-funny now that someone was laughing. Ethan deflated a bit, a bemused sigh escaping past his lips. “Just please don’t tell my wife,” he said. “She worries about me enough as it is. You’re telling her I’m fine, right?”

“I’m giving Mia medically accurate information,” Doctor Marshall said. “Unless you want to withdraw her as your-”

“No, no, it’s…” Great, that just means that either she’s misreading the information Marshall’s giving her or the results are worse than I realized. He wasn’t sure he liked either option. “It’s fine,” Ethan said. He peeked under the cold compress again. “Does the medically accurate information include that this bee sting isn’t gonna kill me?”

Ethan thought he felt a shift in Jill’s mood after that comment. That feeling was confirmed as she wheeled him out. “Everything okay with you two?” she asked. “I don’t want to be nosy, I just know this kind of thing puts a strain on…everything.”

“It’s…” Ethan sighed. “Complicated. Conflicting support needs, I think.” That was what his therapist had said when Ethan tried to describe the disconnect between how they’d handled Dulvey. Ethan wanted to talk. Mia wanted to forget. Neither was wrong, necessarily, but it did contribute to why they’d been butting heads on and off before the village. They hadn’t started couples therapy yet. Ethan wondered sometimes if they should move that up the list.

I basically died on her. That can’t be good for her mental health.

“That’s always tough,” Jill said. She had that tone, the one that said she and Carlos had been through the same thing. That was so weird to think about. They seemed rock solid, the two of them. Then again, they’d been together for a while, and lived through a lot during that time. Nothing like practice to improve your communication skills. “The give and take of it all. You’ve got to be supportive without giving up your own needs.”

“And hers,” Ethan added, tilting his head towards Rose as she grabbed at his coat collar. That was definitely a complicating factor. “I keep trying to tell myself that all couples have these problems, but…they don’t. You can say it’s the same thing, but it’s not.” Maybe that wasn’t fair, maybe he was playing the trauma Olympics, but he’d kill for regular problems. He’d kill for so many of their problems to not be tied up in dumbass crime syndicates and undead werewolves and potentially world-ending bullshit. If he could swap places with the Ethan who’d lost an arm to a car accident, he’d do it in a heartbeat. Zero hesitation.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Jill said. “I think that’s why I was never able to make normal friends. Almost everything feels minor compared to…” She gestured vaguely. “...everything.”

Everything was a pretty good summary of things. And that really summed up how shitty things were for the both of them. “How did you two make it through things?” Ethan asked. “I mean, if you’re okay with sharing.”

“Couples’ therapy,” Jill said without hesitation. “It helped with everything. Even the mundane stuff. And we talk to each other, as much as we can. It used to be a monthly thing when we were active duty. There was a lot happening and we wanted to make sure we had the time.”

That made sense, but it didn’t make Ethan feel any better. How were they supposed to do this when Mia still didn’t want to talk? He couldn’t force her. He’d tried, if he was being honest. It had only made things worse.

How much longer could they just let things stew again?

May 15, 2021:

Apparently, at least another week and a half.

Maybe the mounting anxiety had been a warning.

She’d known from the second she opened her eyes that today was going to test her. Mia hated to blame Ethan, because it wasn’t entirely him. She’d been slipping towards a shitty day for a long time.

But opening her eyes to see Ethan standing upright didn’t help.

“What are you doing?” Mia yelped.

Ethan nearly fell over. Fortunately, he’d been clinging to a chair to support him; it was the only thing that kept him falling down. “Shit!” he yelped back. Then, quietly, “Shh!”

Mia’s gaze darted guiltily to Rose. Fortunately, she was still fast asleep. “What are you doing?!” Mia hissed once she was sure her baby hadn’t woken up.

“I was cold,” Ethan replied. “I wanted a sweater.”

“I could have gotten one for you.”

“You were finally sleeping, I didn’t want to wake you up.”

“What do you -” Mia took a deep breath. “Please sit down. I will get you a sweater.”

Ethan nearly protested. She could see it in the way that his shoulders went tense and his eyes met hers directly. But just as suddenly, he looked away, his shoulders slumping, as he sat down. Crisis averted, she allowed herself to think as she got up to get him a sweater.

That was stupid of her to think. She knew Ethan better than that. She should’ve known. Ethan only stayed quiet for as long as it took to get him the sweater. But once he was holding it…

“I don’t want to do this again,” he said.

Oh, no. “Do…what…?”

“It’s just…” Ethan sighed and rubbed his eyes. His fingers seemed to linger over the scar tissue across his nose. “Back in Europe, it felt like every little thing was an argument. But we never really got at why we were fighting. I don’t want to keep doing that.” He met her eyes again. “It doesn’t feel like you’ve been sleeping well. I haven’t always, either, and sometimes when I wake up in the night or when Rose wakes up, I can hear you…moving around, talking in your sleep. Like how you did after Dulvey. I can walk short distances and you looked peaceful, so I didn’t want to disturb you. You’re dealing with enough without adding sleep deprivation on top of that. I’m worried about you.”

She’d heard those four words so many times. She was starting to get sick of them. “I get that, I do, but you have…” Mia took a deep breath. “You have to start worrying about yourself. Ethan, you died a few months ago. If you get hurt again, if you’d fallen and hit your head…I have enough to worry about without worrying about you doing something stupid, okay?”

She knew, immediately, how harsh she’d sounded. It was starting to remind her too much of the argument they’d had that day in Europe…the one that had nearly been their last argument. Mia rubbed her eyes, hoping that she wasn’t about to start crying. “Please.”

“Okay, okay. No more walking without someone watching me,” Ethan said soothingly. His one hand reached out to rest on her knee. Even with the sweater sleeve covering it, she could vividly see the scar on his forearm. “Stressed about what, honey?”

About the fact that I almost got you killed. That they have to run tests on our daughter and it’s my fault. That you’ll find out the truth and nothing will be the same ever again. That nothing is the same already.

“Don’t do that,” Mia said out loud instead. “Please. You can’t fix everything, Ethan.”

“I’m not…you can talk to me, Mia. I’ll listen. No problem-solving, promise.”

She wasn’t sure she believed him. And even if she did, she couldn’t make herself say the words. “It’s…this whole situation,” she said finally. Not a lie, but nowhere near the truth. “It’s this whole situation.”

She was dodging. From the way Ethan looked at her, he knew she was dodging. She expected him to call her out on it. He always had before. Instead, he just looked sad. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Yeah, baby, I know.”

He hugged her carefully. Mia was able to embrace him back, but she hesitated at first, the surge of guilt getting the better of her.

She knew Ethan had felt that, too, but he still didn’t say anything.

If his problems had a face, Ethan would have shot them by now.

He guessed Ethan could say his problems had some physical form: his bones, his muscles, the injuries and scar tissue that had hobbled him, the mold that had merged with his cells and turned him into something not quite human. But he couldn’t exactly punch himself in the face. Multiple BOWs had already done that for him, and look where that had gotten him.

He could still be mad at himself, though. Either his body had betrayed him forever and this was just his life now, or he wasn’t trying hard enough. One of those answers was easier to accept than the other one.

Unfortunately, accepting the latter only made the moment that he ended up face-down on the floor in the middle of PT all the more painful.

“FUCK!” Ethan shouted as he flopped onto his back. He wasn’t bleeding, but he’d hit his face pretty hard. “Son of a bitch!”

“Easy…” His therapist helped him carefully sit upright. Tom was usually a pretty chill guy, and usually had the decency to not visibly worry so much when things went wrong. This time he looked worried. “Did you hit the bar on the way down?”

“I didn’t hit the fucking bar. Shit.” Ethan looked around instinctively. He knew Rose wasn’t there, but he couldn’t help double checking. He tried really hard not to swear in front of her. He was just so…

Ethan carefully touched under his nose, checking for blood. There wasn’t anything that he noticed, but he knew what was coming next. “Let me guess, this is the part where we take a break for the day? We’re done?”

The words came out in a snap. Tom didn’t take it personally; the worst part was, Ethan was so pissed, he only felt a little guilty for being a dick about it. He felt even less guilty when he was informed that this was, in fact, it for the day.

At least he could wheel himself around the facility now. It meant he didn’t have an audience for his frustration.

Ethan probably should’ve gone back to his room and lay down. The session had been draining as it was, and he was kind of sore from that landing. But he went down to the ground level and right out the front door. No one tried to stop him, thank God. They probably figured he couldn’t go very far.

He went further than he had before, right out the front door and out into the parking lot, all the way to the far edge. There was just a field out there, and a barbed-wire topped fence. Somewhere on the other side of that was the rest of the world.

A world that he might never get to be a part of again.

Ethan took a deep breath and screamed. It was wordless at first, but quickly devolved into a rapid-fire barrage of every swear word he knew. They could probably hear him inside, but he didn’t care. What were they gonna do? Force him back inside? Revoke his wheelchair privileges? It wasn’t like his day could get any worse.

Eventually his voice gave out. He sat in silence, just him, the midday sun, and the random cars. The sound of approaching boots broke that silence eventually. Ethan didn’t have to glance over his shoulder to guess who it was. There were only three people he knew who wore boots regularly, and one of them was out of the country again. “I can’t go back in there,” he said dully.

“Wasn’t going to make you,” said Jill. “So, how’s a parking lot for a mental breakdown space? I haven’t tried that one yet.”

Points to her, the comment did get a laugh out of him. It wasn’t the sanest sounding laugh, but it was something. “It’s, uhm…” Ethan tried to wipe some of the tears off his face. “...better than a bathroom, I guess. Air quality’s nicer.”

“Yeah, bathrooms are like a bottom three pick.” She sat down in the grass, in his line of sight but off to the left. Her white-blond hair caught the sunlight, contrasting it more sharply against the black hoodie she was wearing. It looked a few sizes too big–one of Carlos’s, maybe. “You want to talk about it?”

He did. Keeping it bottled up was killing him, and maybe Jill would actually understand what was going on here. But for a long time, the words didn’t come. He just stared down at his one remaining hand. It had been working fine lately–grip strength almost back to normal, no more freezing up at random, sensation much better. Why couldn’t everything go that smoothly? Why did this have to be so hard?

Hadn’t they all been through enough?

“...Mia and I’s anniversary is this month,” he said. “Ten years.”

“Ten years? With two disasters in the middle of that? Shit, that’s not bad.” Jill sounded genuinely impressed. “I’m guessing you wanted to get out of here before that?”

“No, not even that. I can handle being here if we really have to.” They were safe here, at least, and safe was all he could really hope for. “I just…I was just hoping I’d be walking more by then. I wanted her to see that I’m okay. And don’t give me the whole oh, you should be dead, who cares if you’re not walking yet speech. I care. I can’t…” He rubbed at his eyes desperately. “It’s not enough. I thought even a few steps would do it, but I can just feel her pulling away and she’s so focused on being worried about me that she’s not thinking about anything else and I can’t…I can’t see her like that. I can’t live through that again.”

He was bracing himself for more questions; what he got instead was a slightly bitter, huffing laugh. A sound of recognition. “Fuck, yeah. Been there.”

Ethan lifted his head. “Seriously?”

“Chris didn’t tell you? I was MIA presumed dead for three years.”

Chris had definitely not mentioned that. “Chris doesn’t really talk much about his BSAA days. Was this before you left?”

“Yeah. One of my last missions with the old crew, actually. It’s a long story, but Carlos was…” She sighed. “...he kept it together for me. And I appreciated that, I really did, but I knew it wasn’t going to last forever. It was just a matter of when.” She started rubbing her sternum as she spoke. Ethan saw her do that sometimes. “Worst part was, I knew that. I just had no way of knowing what would finally do it. It was just the one time, thank God. We were able to talk about it after that.”

“So what you’re saying is that she might have to break more before we can fix it?”

“No.” Jill hesitated. “I mean, that’s not wrong, but that’s not what I’m saying. What I’m saying is that what you’re going through isn’t abnormal. I don’t know if I can fix what’s going on with Mia, and I don’t think you can, either. She has to figure that out for herself, like Carlos did. But you know what kept me sane when everything went to shit?” She made direct eye contact with him then. She had such an intense gaze, her pale blue eyes seeming to stare right through Ethan’s skull. “You’ve gotta lower your expectations, man. I know that you want everything back to normal, trust me, I get that, but that went out the window three years ago. I’ve lived it twice. It sucks, every time, but if you try to force it, you’re just going to hurt yourself worse. Physically and mentally.”

Ethan forced his gaze away from her. It was stupid, all things considered, but he didn’t want her to see the tears starting to form in his eyes. “This sucks,” he said finally.

“Yeah, I know. It’s not fair. I wish it were. But you can make it work. It’s possible. And believe me when I say…she’s just happy you’re still here.”

Ethan didn’t doubt that. He just wasn’t always sure it was enough.

Maybe he was wrong about that.

“Mrs. Winters?”

Mia’s head snapped back up. Doctor Marshal was staring at her with a worried look. “Sorry,” she said. She rubbed her eyes. “I just missed that last part…were we talking about skin samples?”

“Yes, but they’re optional, and more for Ethan’s benefit. How is he, by the way?”

Mia wasn’t sure how to answer that. The conversation from that morning was still dancing through her head. The wounded look on Ethan’s face was burned into her eyelids. “He’s…still a little stir-crazy,” she admitted. “Nothing we can’t handle, I don’t think.”

“That’s understandable. How about you? How are you doing?”

Mia wasn’t sure how to answer that. She wasn’t sure she could lie, not when she had zoned out in the middle of the conversation. There was so much going on, so many things she didn’t have a handle on. “...can I ask you something personal?” Mia said finally.

“Go ahead.”

“How did you get past your old job? How do you…ever make up for something like that? After everything that happened…” Doctor Marshal’s face changed quickly, growing more closed-off than she’d ever seen the doctor. Damn it. “...I mean, I don’t know how much you were involved…”

“Bioweapons development and research,” Marshal said. “So, yes, I was involved. Not directly in Racoon City, I was never assigned there, but…only a few degrees of separation between my department and theirs. I’m sure members of the Nemesis team used my research.”

Oh. They had more in common than she’d realized. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Don’t be. It’s a valid question.” Marshal sighed heavily. “Honestly, it took a lot of time. Joining Blue Umbrella helped. Actions feel more like atonement than words. But I had to accept at some point that I could be as sorry as I wanted, but I couldn’t change the past. Even trying to act like the past didn’t happen kept me stuck there. I wasted so much time trying to figure out how to dance around it that I may as well have been stuck in my room, blaming myself. I had to face it, admit it, figure out what I could do instead now, and move on. I still feel guilty now, but I’m not drowning in it anymore. It’s just a feeling. Usually a productive one.”

The difference between guilt and shame. Her therapist had brought it up. Mia was really starting to hate how much the woman was right about things.

“Not everyone is going to forgive us,” Marshall added. “That’s within their rights. That shouldn’t stop us from trying.”

“...yeah.”

They dropped the subject after that, but it stayed with her. It took up so much of her mental space that she almost forgot…

“You’re doing really good,” Carlos said suddenly.

…she’d had an extra set of ears in the hallway the whole time, looking after Rose.

“What?”

“At…all of this. Considering.” Carlos cleared his throat awkwardly. “Just in case no one’s told you that.”

Carlos was an easy man to read. He reminded her of Ethan that way. She could tell he meant it. That didn’t do enough to ease the sudden dread in her chest. “How much did you…?”

“Nothing I won’t have forgotten by the end of the day,” Carlos said. “I’m great at keeping secrets. I can’t retain shit.”

That sounded sincere, too, and just self-mocking enough to get her guard back down. “That’s…”

Goot to know was what she wanted to say. It got stuck in her throat. She was barely able to hold back the alternative response.

I’m scared.

But Carlos seemed to understand anyway. He reached out carefully, only resting his hand on her shoulder when she didn’t move away. He had a reassuring grip, what she’d imagine a touch from a cool older brother or a non-shitty father would feel like. “Is there anything I can help with?” he asked.

“...no,” Mia whispered. The dread was back, joined by a heavier sense of resignation. “No. I have to do this myself.”

Deep down, she’d known it was inevitable. In fact, it was long past overdue. No matter what the outcome…

She owed Ethan the truth.

She wouldn’t be able to fix this until she’d told him.

#resident evil #resident evil village #fic: catch me floating circles in my fish bowl

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robo-mox-motley · 2 years ago

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[Video ID: Gorg, a tall blue mech, runs forward brandishing the blunt grip end of his tank gun. He lifts the whole long gun upwards by the barrel before striking down on the top of a tank. The original sound of the tank being hit is replaced with a coconut bonk stock sound. End ID.]

Always Gorgin' time at Mox(ter)'s

Mox(ter) reporting. Firm believer that Pink Lady apples are superior to Honeycrisp. These are some things you might want to know. Or not, your choice ┐⁠(⁠´⁠ー⁠｀⁠)⁠┌

Things that keep me up at night:

The camaraderie of the Autobots in Armada.

This loser

How some versions of Ironfist are supposed to sound Aussie. Try rereading Last Stand of the Wreckers like that.

Tokyo Ska dropping a new song.

Trying to make up transforming figures in my head that don't exist for certain characters and getting annoyed the next morning. Only thing stopping me is lack of access to a resin printer.

I am Mox/Moxter and have been a bot nerd since I was an anklebiter. Mostly gung-ho about other stuff like practical effects, costuming, figures/models, 3D modelling, old tech, lizards, and birding. I do art a little too, but I’m not too fond of the idea of putting it out on here quite yet.

Couple years of Spanish under my belt but also picking up and learning bits of Japanese and Welsh when I can. Considering others like Yoruba and Korean for in the future, but sadly I suck sometimes and can be a slow learner. Someday, I guess. I apologize beforehand if you see my dumb ass getting long-winded about Tailgate (full reason being too long to explain here).

I’m generally invested into anything related to toy design—mostly TakaraTomy, HasTak, and Sunrise bot stuff is my focus though. I am hooked on the design development surrounding Binaltech and Alternators for better or worse.

And wouldn't you know, a bunch of car robots helped me to realize what I should re-prioritize my career track to be. That's the power of my dumb interests at work ( •̀ .̫ •́ )✧.

Got tired of updating which music artists I like at the moment, but I tend to stick to ELO, Tokyo Ska Paradise Orchestra, hip hop, rock, metal, J-punk, ska, funk, and EDM. Q-Tip and A Tribe Called Quest are great too. I don’t mind getting music recs.

Delighted owner to my little shit of a gecko. A lot of what I reblog is aesthetic posts, robotic nonsense, and other things. If you want to go ahead and block some of my tags, I’ve got a list of them linked in my pinned post. I try to put alt text in the majority of images I upload. May need a poke on that though once in a while because I can’t remember everything.

Sometimes there's 18+ content though that's once in a blue moon and it gets tagged. Block the tag if you need to. Also be normal about bi and pan people, or I'm conking you on the head.

Please do not ask me my pronouns. Like sorry, but I don’t know you. Just use my name and no they/them-ing me if we aren't all too familiar. That's all I ask.

Don’t be stupidly obnoxious around here; shit-stirrers get Gorg'd:

Things I like or have watched/read. Not exhaustive. Strong favorites are bolded.

Games

Bomb Rush Cyberfunk

Destiny (Well, it was good up until every update following Witch Queen)

Fallout 1, NV, 4

Guilty Gear ΛC+, Strive

Halo

Lethal League Blaze

Mass Effect

Rhythm Heaven

Subnautica

Titanfall

Comic Stuff

Astro Boy

Atomic Robo

Dai Dark

Dorohedoro

Hellboy/BPRD

IDW Transformers

Kaiju No. 8

Shimanami Tasogare

Shows

Brave series: Might Gaine, J-Decker

Farscape

FMA 2003

Giant Gorg

Lupin the III

Kamen Rider: Ichigo, Gaim, Zero-One

Stargate

Transformers: G1, JG1, BW, JBW, Unicron Trilogy, Prime, RID 2015, Cyberverse, Earthspark

My MAL profile (I forget to update it though)

Blocked and still rooting through here?

I applaud your tenacity, but I don't get it. Have a little cheer in your life and go watch Iron Leaguer or Kamen Rider or Beast Wars or something.

Signing out.

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secretlysheikah · 2 years ago

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I posted 4,645 times in 2022

162 posts created (3%)

4,483 posts reblogged (97%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@havenwitchworks

@foooxobsessedperson

@hyliagirl42

@mrowtastic

@author-main

I tagged 433 of my posts in 2022

#sheikah speaks - 177 posts

#legend of zelda - 68 posts

#loz - 53 posts

#sheikah suggests - 44 posts

#botw - 34 posts

#linked universe - 33 posts

#the legend of zelda - 31 posts

#breath of the wild - 31 posts

#zelda - 28 posts

#link - 27 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#ive been keeping on a longplay of twilight princess in the bg while i write my thesis and i think thats the only reason i havent lost my min

I sent 1 gift in 2022

My Top Posts in 2022:

Sooooooooo....

guess who got carried away and drew some fanart for your Sky oneshot?

trick question it was me. <3 love you bestie

MROW! MROW HOLY SHIT!

OH MY GOD AAAAAAAHAAHHHHHHHHH

I love it so much mrow! I’m already crying in the club and it’s only just past 7am!!!!! How dare you do this to me!!! I WEEP! (Tears of how fucking cool this is thank you oh my God)

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66 notes - Posted January 5, 2022

A Tale from the Sky

So after my last one shot I made for 2021 I got a request for a continuation by the lovely @mrows-fan-works and I have to say I feel in love with the request. So here we have it, I hope you enjoy.

Here is a link to the fic on Ao3 if you prefer to read it there!

Happy first fic for 2022, may it lead to many more!

Start Here:

When the last of the healers finally left the room, Warriors found himself alone until the others were found, hopefully alive and in better shape than Sky was. Speaking of their Skyloftian, he looked absolutely wretched. He was pale, his lips just a touch blue at the corners but he was assured by multiple people that he was breathing just fine and that it would fade. The skin under Sky’s eyes looked sallow and waxen as well and with the clean white bandages wrapped snugly around his chest it only served to make him look even more sickly. He found himself swallowing hard as he remembered the blood that he had only just managed to slow down long enough for a medic to get there. He looked down at himself, the blood was already dried and stiff on his tunic and his beloved scarf lay on the floor, nearly completely soaked through. That would be a pain to clean. Maybe if he put it in water to soak with some soap it would be easier to remove the stubborn stains? Even as the thought crossed his mind it left, leaving him with a metaphorical monster in the room.

He looked back at Sky, and just by looking at the sleeping hero you would never guess just how frightening he could be. He had only just managed to get back to the keep where he had left Sky, cursing himself at how long he had been away. It had taken longer than he wanted to find the corporal who was leading the defense of the keep and the monsters that got in the way only added to his irritation.

Much too long, it had taken much too long and when he finally came back…. He swallowed as he remembered the way Sky was shaking, practically convulsing as he was surrounded by a swirling black cloud. Wizzro, that bastard had looked smug, almost feral as he moved closer ready to strike Sky down. He was just about to leap to Sky’s aid when the man had let out a roar of rage that rooted him to the spot. He had never heard a sound like that come from Sky before, never thought it could even be a possibility given his normally soft spoken nature.

Sky was, well, he didn’t even know where to begin, he had never seen Sky that angry before in all the time he knew the sleepy head. Sky had bellowed and raged and brought down gleaming strike after strike against the monster until it was down and dragging itself away with Sky stalking after it. He hadn’t even had the power to call out to the man, was hopelessly entranced by the display playing out before him.

“Do you know who I am? I am the first hero, chosen by the Goddess and imbued with the hero’s spirit.” He had yelled, no more like boomed and Wars had been struck dumb by the sheer power in his voice. The scene continued to play in his mind, nothing around him registered in his head as he was completely enraptured by the scene replaying before him. He blinked and suddenly he was back in the smoke filled air of the keep, watching as Sky plunged the master sword through Wizzro’s back and twisted it cruelly as the monster screeched an unholy noise.

“I am a slayer of a God, I have killed the very incarnation of hate and lived to tell the tale. Now tell me, what are you to a God slayer?” Sky had hissed, and even though it was quietly spoken Wars had trembled as if the very ground itself had tried to rend itself asunder. It was so callous, so cold even as his voice had been filled with burning hot rage. Wars mind could scarcely put the image of Sky as he was during that battle to the one he always knew. The two versions of Sky were so completely opposite that it was like staring into an alternate reality. He had snapped back to himself when Sky turned around, and offered him a sheepish smile and the blood, oh Goddesses above.

“I guess you saw that huh?”

Oh he had seen it all.

“What? No I’m fine Wars this isn’t even my blood,”

Sky wasn’t fine and the longer he stood there doing nothing the less likely he was going to be able to save him. He had to move. Now.

“I’ll be fine Wars, Just need a quick nap.”

By the three, please no. Please.

It was a blur from there. Just red seeping into blue, and pale skin going paler by the second and desperation. He felt himself starting to hyperventilate and he dug his fingers into his pant legs, too scared to reach out and touch Sky’s sleeping form. Never once had he been this terrified of another person. But what was he scared of? This was Sky, he knew Sky. Was it the injuries? Was it the way he looked so fragile now after the utter unworldly display of power he had shown not hours before? Whatever it was he was on the verge of quaking now.

“God slayer,” Wars whispered to the silent room and the words seemed to call back to him and settle into his bones. God slayer, that was what Sky had called himself. Memories from a warm sunny day outside of Wild’s home, surrounded by the children of his village now settled in and filled his eyes. Sky had looked… Remorseful? Bitter? Both?

“Oh Gods can die, just be glad all they left behind this time were bones,” Sky had said as he had tossed what remained of his apple away. He recalled the way Sky’s warm face had twisted and the vision shattered before his eyes leaving him back in the sick room. He was left struggling to put pieces together of a clearly incomplete puzzle that was the Skyloftian, the whole thing was maddening. There was clearly another side to his brother that he had not seen until now and he was dying to know more. There was a slight movement on the bed and Wars glanced over, mind still miles away as he studied the movement blankly.

“I wasn’t fast enough, too late… Heh, what else is new? But now you… All suffer for it,”

Wars snapped back to himself so quickly his head spun and he nearly toppled off his chair when he came eye to half lidded and distant eye with Sky. He was breathing heavily, his hands tightening in the sheets that were draped across his lower body. Wars watched as his eyes moved sluggishly around the high vaulted ceilings and he was fairly certain that anything Sky was seeing was not actually registering in his mind.

“Sky?” Wars whispered but hesitated to move his chair any closer to the bed. Sky sniffled and sighed before he let his head fall to the side to look at him. Wars could just make out Sky’s sapphire blue eyes peeking out from underneath his thick eyelashes. The dark, almost bruised like skin that clung underneath his bottom lids only made the blue of his eyes stand out in stark relief. Sky blinked at him lazily, grimaced and made to clutch at his chest, the pain obvious on his face. Before he knew what he was doing, Wars had scooted his chair closer and grabbed Sky’s hand, holding it tightly so that he wouldn’t tug at the bandages.

“Hey now, none of that,” He scolded lightly and was graced with a barely audible sigh.

“Hurts,” Sky mumbled and Wars gave his hand a soft pat in understanding.

“Do you need me to go get a healer? They can get you something for the pain,” He offered, the words scarcely out of his mouth before Sky was shaking his head in the negative. To Warriors dismay he was trying to sit up.

“No, no, Don’t go… Not yet, I have to explain,” Sky panted as he continued to struggle to sit up fully.

“No you don’t have to, no wait,” Wars started but quickly gave up when Sky continued to struggle.

“Fine alright, just stop trying to sit up,” He snapped and to his relief Sky let himself drop back down to the mattress, and Wars could feel the tremor in Sky’s arms from the strain.

“I’m sorry Wars, I owe you an… e-explanation… An apology… I am ” Sky slurred and Wars felt himself stiffen.

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68 notes - Posted January 9, 2022

Yahahaha! You’re clogging my damn vacuum find a new spot to hide damn you.

131 notes - Posted April 17, 2022

Earth day appreciation post! Have some pictures from my rambles in the woods!

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169 notes - Posted April 22, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

ALRIGHT HERE WE GO!

I wanted to draw my blorbo, Hiri in her elder clothes! This is my interpretation of what the elder Sheikahs would look like/wear. The only thing you can see is that they also wear earrings. But the spooky vibe spoke to me so here we are.

186 notes - Posted May 30, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

AAAAAAAAAAYYYY not a bad year I think

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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