#I’M GONNA SCREAM ABOUT DETAILS IN THE TAGS WHEN I REBLOG IT BUT OH MY GOD

[inkykeiji]

SURPRISE SHAWTY

EMMAAAAAAAAA I AM ABSOLUTELY SCREAMING I LOVE HIM SO MUCH I LOVE IT SO MUCH IT’S SO BEAUTIFUL OH MY GOD OH MY GODDDDDDDA oh my god emma seriously i’m tearing up he’s so beautiful and you’re so talented!!!!!!! i’m SO in love with his pose AND HIS BOOTS OH MY GOD and the way the flame tattoos like lick his face!!!!!!!!!! i love it emma i love it more than words could tell u oh my god <33333

[captainkirbypunch]

My love has left tumblr once again.

As many of you may know, the account under the name MDZADR, has left tumblr. They felt unsafe in their fandom, and as such have deleted their tumblr and AO3 account due to the bad memories linked to them.

As a part of their departure, they have asked me to post something in their name, as follows.

If you want more details about how I came to this realization, continue to read. If not, here is your summary:

TL;DR: For the safety and health of this fandom, I wanted to spread the word that Mooping-10 is filled with people who absolutely cannot be trusted, creating a very hazardous environment for the zadr community, and MelodyoftheVoid is connected to all of those people, living a double life amongst those of us that don’t “ship zadr correctly.” She has plenty of friends her inner circle knows nothing about, and nobody on either side knows who she really is. 

Full story below.

I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye. Nobody did anything to me today, but this just wasn’t worth it.

My AO3 and tumblr are both gone. I didn’t say goodbye because I didn’t want to look like an attention seeker.

Here’s the thing. I wasn’t going to name drop, but you guys need to know the truth. I’m instructing my boyfriend (hi y’all) to turn asks off for his own safety after this because this is going to be a nightmare, but... allow me to tell you the full story. I’ll try to break up the text so it’s less difficult to read, but this is important. I’m sorry to air discourse so publicly, but please... I need you to listen to me.

I’ll start from the beginning, without being vague anymore about who “she” is. I request that you please read the whole thing and not skip parts of it. The whole story matters.

I finally returned to the fandom about two months or so ago. As I’ve mentioned, I don’t do well in my thoughts while left alone too long, so I posted saying I would stop messaging people I knew because I didn’t want to bother them. There were only two people I was talking to at the time, but one of them is famous so I didn’t want to message her directly saying that. Doing so would have put her in a position of feeling obligated to say “you’re not bothering me” rather than just simply being able to sigh with relief from no longer being contacted. 

But the first person to contact me was the famous person, and she asked if I was okay, and told me she liked talking to me.

God, I actually cried.

But, that’s just her. Melodyofthevoid is the type of person to talk to people in the fandom, totally unaware of her demigod status. She comments on stories, interacts on posts, messages first... a pillar of kindness, so it seemed.

But let the story continue.

Over time, we were talking more often. 

Mostly sending memes (cause everyone I knew, myself included, aren’t exactly great at holding conversations. No shade. Memes are a love language). I was still in the hero worship stage of our relationship, so my view of her was that that was perfect.

Now, let me bridge a connection with a new story idea I got around December 28th or so, and my thinking she was perfect.

I had recently finished watching Madoka and questioned “If I had magical powers, what would they be?” It then turned into its own story idea, basing creators’ powers around the strengths and weaknesses in creations. I actually realized “oh fuck. My stuff is incoherent. My friends’ works aren’t too different...”

Thus spawned the name “Incoherent” for the project.

What does that have to do with this? Well, here’s the thing that really fucked everything up quickly. 

This was not on purpose, because originally the project (which I had told nobody of yet at the time) was all about improving your works, making platonic friends, dressing our personas in cute outfits, and writing fun magic.

While listening to music and thinking of the story one day, my brain accidentally shipped my persona with hers, and I couldn’t unsee it. And I’m lousy at keeping my own secrets (other’s are different) so she found out on probably day one or two about my weird crush because of an ask meme of all things. 

She didn’t try to put me off any, which was another problem for future things to come, and so I decided that since Incoherent was finally making me feel alive again and feeling the euphoric feelings of love wouldn’t hurt anything (I figured they’d mellow out on their own eventually because that’s how infatuation works) since they helped fuel my inspiration, and then we would just continue from friends to better friends one day and this part of our lives would be over.

Besides, the forbidden is attractive somehow, and makes stories more entertaining. She’s aro/ace, so I had no chance anyway. Someone safe to crush on, in her own way.

This isn’t a story of a love betrayal however. There was no such thing. But it’s important to the story because Incoherent is where my mistakes were made, and hers brought to light.

By this time, I had a handful of people I was talking to, and I created a discord server for the project. Only my boyfriend (hi!) and I were in it at the time. I was not-so-subtly asking my friends what they’d look like if they were a magical person, what their names would be... I thought I would have had to lure Melody in to make her want to join us, but I managed to get her in very easily. Everyone was happy and excited! It was a no obligation, no time limit thing for us to enjoy, a little sandbox to play around in. 

Sure there were plans to make it bigger and I was working on art to the best of my ability, but it was gonna be a fun thing mostly. No pressure on anyone.

And how things started becoming a problem was that the rest of us posted publicly about the project and interacted with each other’s posts relating to the story, but she had started to interact publicly less and less with our things, and everyone noticed it.

It wasn’t because we were greedy and wanted the popular girl to reblog our things. It’s because we had a feeling she was ashamed of being seen publicly with us. The reason we were worried before then and started making that connection was because I mentioned I was going to ask another user if they were interested in joining Incoherent. Melody was the only one that seemed uncomfortable, and I messaged her asking about it. We agreed I wouldn’t invite that person but I knew things were off about it.

That person is like me. How long until Melody didn’t want to talk to me anymore? A few days ago, the other shoe finally dropped. A member of our little group and I were talking and (let’s call them Friend for simplicity. They asked to not be name dropped here) Friend was worried they had made Melody upset by tagging her in a meme picture they drew of her persona, and the two had agreed that Friend remove the tag. This spawned an anxiety-filled conversation where Friend and I expressed our concerns about Melody not interacting with the project, or us.

So since I wanted reassurance that that wasn’t the case, I messaged Melody with my concerns. I told her I had the feeling she was ashamed of being seen in public with us because of her friends, and she didn’t refute me. She simply told me to go get some rest. I messaged back with “I’m right.”

I deleted Discord off my phone for hours and nearly deleted my Tumblr, AO3, and the server after my boyfriend helped pass messages between us. Melody confessed that was the case because her friends expressed discomfort with my works, and she was playing both sides.

Her words, not mine.

Melody told me she would be withdrawing from the Incoherent project because it wasn’t fair to us if her heart wasn’t in it.

She didn’t stand up on my behalf when they said things about me. Her friends are the type who talk behind creators’ backs for shipping zadr “incorrectly.” Worse than antis because they actually participate in the “pro-shipping” side of the fandom. I broke that day and messaged her at 3 am.

We finally spoke at 3pm. We both missed each other. I tried to understand more. I wanted it to be more like a conversation rather than an interrogation. It was only one-sided however, and she never opened up further. And I made some mistakes and poor choices of words, and we ended up parting ways permanently right there. 

I nearly deleted everything, but much like a coma patient attached to many machines on a hospital bed, my blog was kept alive a little longer by people sending kind words in droves. I was briefly fuelled by spite, wishing to watch the world burn by making everyone on the "correct" side of the fandom upset by posting the worst, most vile content this fandom has ever seen.

I was also welcomed with open arms by a very kind server with fellow degenerates, all of them screaming and crying and partying when they managed to get me in their server. It was so heartwarming...

But as I spoke to others about my situation, I realized something. A disturbing pattern.

People telling me horror stories about how Mooping-10 was cult-like. How the people running it were antis. I was even told once that they have a secondary server where they go to have their talks and do their work, likely the place where the real bashing is held.

The server itself has rules against such behavior, but I suppose it's different when they do it.

One person (and this is the most unnerving part for me, personally) told me Melody actually set off alarm bells in their head without having even done anything yet, and the most disturbing part of the story was that one of the moderators was afraid and upset because they got Covid, and received basically no moral support at all. Only getting told "spoiler that. Sorry you got Covid".

I was horrified. That server has 100 people in it. How many of them are the same? They act like popular kids in school who picked up an unpopular main character and then bash others, and the main character joined in because they don't want to be left behind by their new "friends".

To put it short, back to my point:

TL;DR: I simply only wanted to spread the word that: Mooping-10 is filled with people who absolutely cannot be trusted, creating a very hazardous environment for the zadr community, and Melodyofthevoid is connected to all of those people, living a double life amongst those of us that don't "ship zadr correctly". She has plenty of friends her inner circle knows nothing about, and nobody on either side knows who she really is.

[tinyboxxtink]

"Doppelganger" *Part 18*

Alright I went back and forth with this one, I even had a whole other idea where to take this, but I ended up here. And you know to be honest I think it ended up working out because it really does explain a LOT. I just did it inadvertently.

Also I hate to ask this but if you enjoy my stuff can you PLEASE reblog it and not just like it? It really helps me out more because more people see it, liking it doesn't really do anything.

I love you all!!!

Part 17

Part 19

Tag List

@madamsnape921

@lolliepopsicle

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@milkshqke

@wanniiieeee

@word-scribbless

@gibbs274

@sassyada

@aprildecker-blog

@bookishfanfic

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@stars-trash-18

@omgsuperstarg

@objection-argumentative

[OMG I LOVE HIS FACE SO MUCH. I don't wanna give any spoilers but watch it when you read the line that starts: "I don't know what else to do--" . Wait, can you tell it's a face he's making like, he's about to cry because he doesn't know what you expect him to do because that's the context of the gif. It's when Alex is like I didn't do shit blah blah blah and he's like "It's all gonna come out Alex, I don't know how else to help you if you're just gonna be this way! Kinda like Cest La Vie, ya know? Did I overexplain it?]

--------------------------

The next few days consisted of a lot of cuddling and binging, you two in your own little bubble. Rafael didn’t have any big cases at the moment, so he was able to do most of his paperwork and things from home. After a long discussion, you decided that you were going to take the rest of the semester off; at least until things cooled down, people forgot about the whole ‘Nevada’ debacle, and wouldn’t hound you anymore. You were enjoying your bubble when Rafael just had to pop it.

You were in the middle of binging some courtroom drama [DUN DUN] when he turned to you and said:

“...Baby, remember when you said you’d talk to someone…?”

There it was. The other shoe dropped. The music had come, you had to face it.

“I um, yeah…” You looked down and played with the string on Rafael’s HARVARD hoodie you were currently wearing.

“Well I found numbers of some pretty good psychiatrists that deal with PTSD and--”

“Psychiatrists?!” You suddenly sat upright. “Y-You want me to go to a shrink?”

“Well, I thought that’s what--”

“I thought you just wanted me to talk to one of your-- squad, people,” You were starting to panic. You didn’t want some stranger knowing your business; how would you even begin to explain the situation?!

“I mean, if that’s what you want--”

“That’s what I want,” You cut him off. “As long as it’s not Olivia,”

“Okay, whatever you need baby,” He kissed the top of your head.

-----

That next week you had agreed to sit down and talk with Sonny Carisi. Rafael was stunned when you asked to talk to a guy, but you said it made you feel more comfortable for whatever reason. He was seriously hesitant for some reason, but then agreed. The conversation went like this:

“What are you worried I'll latch on to him, fall in love with him like people do with their mentors?” You teased.

“Ha ha….” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. He didn’t find it amusing at all.

“....Baby I was just kidding,” You put a hand to his chest. “That takes months-- or y’know, a glance at a photo in a temp office,” You giggled, thinking about how you met and fell in love.

“Yeah no I know,” He gave you a very weird smile. “Just um, y’know don’t get into too much detail about us, okay? Just stick to the Nevada thing,”

“...Um, okay…?” You looked at him curiously.

“I just don’t want my co-workers knowing our personal stuff, carino,” He assured you. Well that made sense.

----

So here you were, sitting in an interrogation room with Sonny Carisi. He looked about as uncomfortable as you felt. Though you couldn’t understand why he would be worried, you were the one ‘on trial’ here.

“So um, Miss Y/L/N,” He cleared his throat.

“Y/F/N is fine, Mr. Carisi,”

“Sonny, please,” He nodded. “So, Y/N-- I uh, so...did you wanna talk about anything?”

“....I mean, you’re the SVU detective here Sonny. Don’t you have a list of questions you have to ask me?”

“I mean, we already know most of it. You were kidnapped by a guy who looked like Barba, you had sex with him a lot--”

“Excuse me?” You cut him off. “Is that what your little paper says? ‘I had sex with him a lot’? I was assaulted, multiple times,”

“Right,” He nodded nervously. “Yeah no, of course I’m sorry that’s what I meant,”

“...Did Olivia write this?” You narrowed your eyes.

“Excuse me?”

“Did Olivia write this report?” You repeated.

“Why would you ask that?” He asked you nervously.

“Because it doesn’t exactly sound like I’m the victim in that report,” You crossed your arms. “It sounds like someone who has a personal bias towards my fiancé, who thinks that this was my fault. That I should’ve known the difference between him and some criminal. Maybe someone who thinks they would’ve known better if they were in the situation. Maybe someone who thinks he should be with someone who knows them like they do,”

“....That’s a lot of assumption on your part, Y/N,” Sonny turned the paper upwards while he dismissed your conspiracy theory.

“...Is it?” You narrowed your eyes. “Let me see it,”

“Y’know these things are private information for the NYPD Y/N, and--” Before he could finish, you swiped the paper from him. You noticed his face go white, he stopped talking. Jesus, did everyone want to protect precious Olivia? You scanned the paper, your eyes went wide when you saw who filled it out.

“....You filled this out,” You said softly, looking at him. He was looking at the floor. “Y-You, filled this out Mr. Carisi,”

“Sonny--” He said in a shaky voice.

“Oh ok, SONNY,” You tossed the paper at him. “You--You don’t even know me. Do you? Have we met before? Did I offend you in some past life?”

“No, no of course not--”

“.....Or have I offended you by dating your mentor--oh my god, your mentor,” You suddenly remembered the conversation you had with Rafael a few days before.

“I...I have to go,” You suddenly stood up and walked out of the room briskly, Sonny trailed behind you. Rafael had been waiting in the squad room to take you home after you were done, you stomped across the room to him.

“Hey, baby done so soon--? What’s wrong?” He looked at you with concern.

“....Were you screwing Carisi?” you growled.

“Excuse me?” He asked in a panicked tone.

“WERE YOU FUCKING YOUR MENTEE BEFORE ME,” You practically screamed, causing the whole precinct to stop and stare. Rafael looked around the room horrified, then glanced at Sonny who had an apologetic look on his face. “He--”

“Oh no no no, don’t blame this on him,” You stood in front of his eyeline to Sonny. “...Is that what you do, Rafael? Y-You seduce your interns and sleep with them? W-Was I just a tick on the wall?”

“NO,” He shook his head and took your hand. “Can we-- Can we do this outside, please?”

“Why? Because you don’t want everyone to know ‘our’ personal life, or ‘yours’?” You huffed as you skulked out of the building.

“Barba I’m sorry, she just--” Sonny tried to explain.

“We are not done with this, Carisi,” Rafael growled at him before he ran after you.

-----

He caught you outside the precinct, breathing heavily trying not to have a panic attack.

“What is wrong with you?” Rafael asked you, making you stop altogether.

“A-Are you serious?” You half laughed in disbelief. “You send me into the lion’s den without any warning, and then I just get to find out that I’m just one of the many--”

“Oh knock it off, Y/N,” He stopped you. “You know that’s not true,”

“It’s not? Then what the fuck was that?”

“Okay,” He sighed. “Okay fine maybe I should have-- insist on you talking to someone else,”

“....You think THAT’S the problem here?”

“Look Y/N. Carisi and I...we... we got drunk a few times, and we-- y’know,” He shrugged uncomfortably.

“Oh God…” You wouldn’t throw up on the sidewalk, you told yourself.

“And he caught feelings from it! I can’t control how he feels!” He gestured towards the building.

“...So does that mean that you ‘y’know’ with Olivia a few times, and SHE ‘caught feelings’ from it? Because I distinctly remember you telling me that nothing ever happened between you two,”

“....Under your spell,” He mumbled.

“Excuse me?” You almost fell over.

“I--” He looked around nervously. “I said that, under your spell. You think that when I was ‘in love’ with you I was going to tell you that I fucked the woman you were threatened by?”

“...Did....did you just use quotes? Did you just air quote you being in love with me?”

“Well I wasn’t exactly under my own free will now was I?” He snapped.

“I can’t...I can’t believe you’re using that against me,” You looked to the side with a dry laugh, refusing to cry.

“Look I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to--” He tried to go for your hand, but you weren’t having it. “Look my point was, you and I-- we’re not the same. Our relationship isn’t the same as them--”

“No, it’s not. Because you slept with them WILLINGLY, right? And I just tricked you into it? Like Nevada did with me? Because we’re the same?”

“Alright now you’re just--” He rolled his eyes.

“What? What am I JUST--?” You crossed your arms, upset he wasn’t taking this seriously.

“I thought we were doing all of this to get past this, Y/N,” He sighed in frustration.

“So did I!” You stomped your foot, tears choking your throat. “But--But, what if we can’t? This whole time, this WHOLE time. You--”

“Y/N baby stop--” He tried putting his hand on your shoulder but you backed away.

“You KNEW how bad I felt about doing that to you! You told me that, that I just ‘brought out your real feelings’, but….but that’s not true, is it?” You paced while talking and then paused when you asked the question.

“Yes it is! I mean, mostly….” He added the last part with a mumble.

“Mostly?” Your blood ran cold.

“I mean I thought you were attractive, but I didn’t know anything about you. And--And you didn’t know anything about me, Y/N. You weren’t in love with me either, you had a crush on me. But that day we spent together, it really did make me fall in love with you! After I remembered how I felt, I wanted to keep feeling that way all the time! I wanted to be with you, I knew we were meant to be together after that--”

“Oh my god--” You laughed again, putting your hands over your head. “This is insane. This is...this is insane,”

“Baby look when you think about it the whole thing is insane. But we’re here--”

“No, you’re right Rafael,” You put your hands in between you, preventing him from coming closer. “We are insane. But I thought it was the ‘only in the movies kind of love’ insane. But apparently, it’s just an insane mental institution insane,” You started to walk away but he ran in front of you.

“No. Uh Uh. You’re not walking away from this. Not again, not ever again,”

“What are you gonna hold me hostage now? Like I did with your feelings?” You rolled your eyes, but then it hit you. That was your entire problem. That’s what this all boiled down to. This is what it’s ALWAYS been about.

“...That’s it,” You whispered.

“...What is?” He looked at you curiously.

“...We started this on a lie, I started us on a lie,”

“Wha--- no, no you--” He shook his head.

“I did!” You finally let tears fall. “You just said it yourself, I made you feel those things. You--- you didn’t feel anything more for me than Olivia or Carisi! You just wanted to sleep with me! But I--I made you have romantic feelings for me. And-- And ever since that day, that magical perfect day when I accepted that it wasn’t real, I was right!”

“No, no--” He tried to protest.

“YES, Rafael! And-- and ever since then, ever since you, we-- I’ve always had it in the back of my mind that you’re STILL under that influence! That-- that one day you’re going to realize ‘oh hey you know what I actually don’t give a shit about you, my bad!’,” You began pacing, thinking out loud as it all came to the surface.

“And--And, I just still have it in my mind that I’m not good enough for you, I’ll NEVER be good enough for you! And-- these things just keep happening, that are telling me I’M RIGHT. I couldn’t tell you apart from Nevada, I did things with him knowing it hurt you, I did DRUGS even though on some level I knew it would hurt you, and what it all boils down to is I’ve kept you hostage in this relationship!”

“NO, you have not,” Rafael took you by the shoulders. “I get why you feel like this, Y/N baby I really do. And-- And I’m sorry I wasn’t upfront about Sonny and Olivia but I knew you are already so insecure about our relationship--”

“FOR GOOD REASON!!!”

“NO! NOT for good reason!” He tried not to yell as not to cause a scene but he needed you to hear him.

“Look maybe we-- we started out unconventionally. But that was MONTHS ago, baby. Have I-- have I not shown you time and time again, how much I really do love you? I--I made a fucking flash mob for you, do you know how long that took? How much self esteem did I have to suck it up to perform in front of people again? But I did it for you,” He started to cry.

“I risked my life for you so many times when Nevada had you. I could have just let him keep you. Especially after--” He stopped, quickly noting that bringing that up again was only going to take three steps back.

“I--I dropped everything to stay home and protect you! Do those things not make you feel loved? Do you think that all of that is...is fabricated?” He was the one crying and laughing in disbelief now.

“I don’t--- I don’t know what else to do to prove to you that I love you of my own free will. TELL ME what I can do to prove that to you, and I’ll do it! What is going to prove to you that I won’t leave you, that I won’t suddenly wake up one day and realize I was under some spell all along? Tell me!” He begged you, tears rolling down his cheeks.

“....Marry me,” You finally answered softly.

“....What?” He looked at you quizzically. “Baby I already proposed--”

“Yeah but that’s not definite, Rafael,” You held up your bare hand. “Look! It’s not even real right now!”

“A piece of jewelry doesn’t--”

“It does to me!” You took his hands. “Look, I’m--I’m sorry I am the way that I am, but I can’t change it. I--I need physical proof. I know that you’ve done all of this heroic and crazy stuff for me, but-- but my stupid brain won’t accept that! I need something, something physical. Actual proof that I can look at, to know I’m safe. To know you’re going to stay with me,”

“....Okay,” He nodded, looking down at your hand while rubbing your ring finger.

“Okay?” You asked warily. “You’re just going to accept that?”

“....I’ve put up with all of your other craziness up to this point, have I not?” He smirked.

“Hey that’s not--” You started to argue but he gave you a look. “Alright fine, yes you have,”

“Okay,” He looked up at you with a smile. “I’ll marry you. I’ll marry you right now, we can go into the chapel in the back and--” He started leading you back to the station.

“Wha, no no no,” You cried and laughed, wiping the tears from your face. “Okay I didn’t mean this second. Just...soon,”

“Soon?” He looked at you curiously.

“Really soon?” You bit your lip.

“Like, tomorrow soon?”

“Like….I don’t know, maybe a month? Two? I kind of want a reasonably cute wedding,”

“Not a huge expensive one….”

“Rafael how many people do I know that would come to my wedding? You and Chloe. That’s it. And Chloe will be standing next to me,”

“You have Maria,”

“Maria’s your...mom?”

“Second mom,” He chuckled. “But she could sit on your side. With her husband. And if you go inside and make nice with the rest of the squad, they can sit on your side,”

“...Make nice with the people I just had a meltdown in front of?” You raised an eyebrow.

“...They’ve seen worse, trust me,” He teased.

“...Okay but after that, can we--?” You raised your hand, and he read your mind.

“I’ll call Tiffany's and tell them we’ll be stopping by,” He shook his head with another laugh.

“...Really? Fancy,” You grinned.

“You’re easy to please,” He shook his head with a laugh as you walked back into the station hand in hand.

[wtnrscap]

Cursed Words- Benign

Pairings- Bucky Barnes x Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Bruce Banner, mentions of past Natasha Romanoff x Clint Barton.

Summary- An attack, a rescue, a recovery... a plan. It’s time to active Project Cursed.

Warnings- (18+) Mentions of blood, death, injury detail, PTSD, panic and anxiety attacks. Swearing, fluff. Dirty talk, dirty fantasies. Eventual smut.

A/N- I think I’m getting back into a flow after college and writer’s block. Again, I apologise for letting the block get kinda out of hand. I’d resigned myself to reblogging other people’s work and writing one crappy line a day. Decided I have to get myself in order. Sorry if mess up the language parts in this and as for the brainwashing explanation, this what I think happened, although I know it’s not.

Also, I’m kinda sad. This series is starting to wind down and don’t wanna say goodbye to this blushy/cocky Bucky I’ve created. Ah well, all good things must come to an end. Taglist is open. Requests are open. Prompts list here.

Ne govori - Don’t talk (Russian)

Cursed Words Masterlist

“Bucky...? Just put her down... No one has to get hurt...” Steve whispers, taking a slow step towards the edge of the compound roof. A very pale Sam follows and you gasp for air, your feet dangling as Bucky’s grip tightens on your throat.

Steve turns his head back to Sam, “You might wanna get in the air. It’s looking likely she’s gonna drop, and if you could catch her...”

“On it,” Sam jumps up and swoops like his namesake, getting an eagle-eye view of you hanging by your throat, Bucky holding you, Steve advancing towards Bucky and the rest of Avengers minus Tony and Thor watching at the bottom of the compound. He supposes they hope to break your fall as well.

“Y/N, are you okay?” asks Steve carefully, trying not to alarm Bucky. You let out a strangled noise, “Yep. Just dandy. Can’t breathe but I’ll be fine.”

“Can you wriggle free? Sam will catch you, I promise...”

“He has by the neck with his metal arm!” you snap, “I suppose the positive is, he hasn’t killed me yet...” you try to hit Bucky with your hands. He growls and his grip gets impossibly tighter, “Ne govori!”

How are you not dead yet?

“What did he say?” gasps Steve and you force a snort, “How the fuck would I know? I don’t speak fucking Russian! Don’t happen to have a plan do you?”

“Working on it...” mutters Steve raising his shield. Bucky moves his head closer to yours, “NE GOVORI!”

“Steve, I think I have a plan... Tell Sam when he gets the signal, he needs to catch me...”

“Is it a stupid plan?”

You nod your head and swing forward, trying to create enough momentum to reach Bucky’s face. He holds you fast, and for a brief minute, you don’t think you’ll reach him. Then, you swing your right arm up into a hook punch, your fist crashing into the side of Bucky’s face. Being a supersoldier, Bucky can take a punch to the face, but you have the element of surprise, a feat which works to your advantage. Bucky’s hand leaves your throat and you plummet to the ground, the sound of rushing air filling your ears. You can vaguely hear Sam screaming, “I THOUGHT YOU SAID SHE’D GIVE ME A SIGNAL!”

Fingers brush against fingers before a hand clasps around yours and a cracking sound snaps through the air. Sam yells and loses his grip and you hit the ground with a sickening crunch.

-

Disconnected voices warble through your ears. Dull pain shoots across your body in spasms and the sound of someone screaming cuts through your head.

Why won’t they shut up?

It takes you a minute to realise. It’s you. You’re the one screaming.

-

“She’s waking up!”

“Stand back! Let her breathe!”

“I think some of us should leave... Sam, leave!”

“Why do I have to go?”

“Because you didn’t catch me...” you grumble weakly, opening your eyes to too bright light and several blurry figures. The light dims slightly and Steve comes into vision with a small smile, “Is that better? I can dim it more if you want?”

“That’s good, thanks...” you groan and shift, trying to sit up. A hand grabs your arm, “Here, let me.”

In a more upright position, you can see everyone. Nat stands by the door, her head resting on Bruce’s shoulder, Sam and Steve are by the window and Tony sits next to you, having been the one to help you up. Sam steps forward arms outraised, “In my defence, when Bucky let you go, he didn’t just drop you, he kinda threw you. When I caught you, the downward force was too much which is why I dropped you and why I now have this”.

Sam waves his right arm in the air which is covered in a cast. That explains the cracking noise when he grabbed on to you. You sigh, “What is it?”

“Broken wrist. I’m not implying your heavy or some shit, just--”

“I advise you to shut up now”.

The whole room chuckles and you turn to Steve, “Is he okay? What happened?”

“I’m not sure this is a conversation we should have now...”

“I wanna know. Tell me”.

Steve sighs and takes a seat at the end of your bed, “When Bucky dropped you, he turned on me. We fought and I ended up smacking him around the head with the shield. Hard. He woke up about 3 hours ago and has been trying to convince Tony to let him go back into cryo”.

“I’ve told him to wait for you. It’s pissing him off, but I refuse to let him go back in without talking to you first,” Tony reaches for your hand and you grasp it, “Thanks, Tony. That means a lot--”

Your voice cuts out and Steve nods his head quickly, “Oh, and you’re not supposed to do much talking. Bucky damaged your vocal cords.”

“So I came out fairly unharmed?” you croak. Bruce shakes his head, “The anaesthetic will wear off in about an hour. That’s why you can’t feel any other injuries”.

“What?”

“The final injury count stands like this. Damaged vocal cords, reduced talking. Severe bruising around the neck, don’t move your head too much. Several broken fingers on both hands, reduced activates involving your hands, internal bleeding, don’t move about fast and... a broken leg, no walking for 6-12 weeks,” Bruce finishes with a wince when he sees the fury in your face. There’s a pause and then you begin to laugh. Everyone stares at you like you’re crazy. Eventually, you manage to choke out some words, “That’s damn good anaesthetic!”

Bruce flushes, “Similar to the one they use for me. You were kinda screaming a lot.”

You look around the room and a small smile spreads across your face, “Well, we have no time to waste. We have a lot to do and--“

Steve cuts you off, “You have to recover!”

“And I will recover, but I need to talk to Bucky, obviously, and I need to talk Tony. Both in private. Can you give us a minute?”

The room grumbles as people start to leave. You tap Tony’s shoulder, “Grab me a glass of water and a whiteboard?”

-

“Alright, what do you wanna talk to me about?” Tony asks, handing you the water and the whiteboard. You take a sip, soothing the pain temporarily, “We need rush Project Cursed.”

Tony’s face twists, “Oh no. No, no, no. Project Cursed is far from being ready. We can’t rush it.”

“Before Friday, I spoke to Princess Shuri. She thinks it’s ready, and she’s the best.”

“I’m offended.”

“Tony, the only reason we haven’t started Project Cursed is that I wanted it to be as painless as possible for Bucky. That isn’t going to happen. The more time we waste, the stronger the soldier gets. One of these days, he’ll take over completely. We have to move it forward.”

“But Bucky will never agree to it. And we have to take brain scans. That’ll take weeks in itself.”

“It would’ve only taken weeks because we wanted a full scan. We’ll have to a skimmed scan.”

“But we could miss something important!”

“That’s a risk we have to take Tony!” you begin to cough and Tony jumps up, handing you the glass of water. As you drink, Tony sighs, “Alright, alright. I’ll get the scanner set up with Bruce and you can talk to Bucky. We’ll do some scans and talk to him about the project. How does that sound?”

You manage a weak thumbs up and Tony smiles, dropping a light kiss to your forehead, “You’ve got a good heart Y/N. Don’t talk too much”.

-

Bucky sits as far away from you as physically possible. He doesn’t look at you, opting to stare at the wall instead. You’d tried to talk to him when he walked in, but he’d just ignored you, so now you’d been sitting in silence for 5 minutes. You sigh in annoyance, “Bucky, we’re talking abou--”

A cough overwhelms you and you blindly reach the glass of water. The glass is inches from your fingertips and you curse Tony for putting it too far away. Panic sets in as your throat is ripped to pieces when a hand rests on your back, helping you to sit forward and take a drink. You gulp down the water, ignoring the slight burn.

Bucky puts the glass back and wipes a strand of hair out of your face, “You okay, doll?”

“Oh, are you talking to me now?”

“I’m not about to let you die!”

You glare at him and Bucky shrinks under your gaze. Almost immediately, he jumps up, leaving your side but you grasp his wrist, “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I... I can’t be around you right now...” he whispers. You shake your head and pat the space beside you, “Bucky... Last night was my fault. Clearly, I said a word, one of those horrible words. I wanted to talk to you about a plan to fix all that.”

“I’m not sure it can be fixed... I almost killed you...”

“Bucky, when I took these,” you pull the dog tags out from under your hospital gown, “I knew what was I was signing up for. I have seen you at your worst and I know, the best is yet to come. I want to get these words out your head, but you have to trust me and work with me. Please... I’m begging you...”

Bucky looks into your wet eyes and sighs, sitting next to you, “Fine. Tell me about your plan.”

-

Tony hands you another scan, and you trace your finger across the sheet. It alarms you, what you see. You always knew that Bucky’s brain wasn’t going to be the same as everyone else’s, but this... this was worrying. You glance up at Tony carefully, “I’m assuming you noticed this straight away.”

“I’m not a doctor... But Bruce pointed it out to me... Then Helen looked it over and we ended up sending it to Shuri. We’ve all come to the same conclusion.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose and glare at Tony, “Do you understand now? Why we can’t wait?”

“Yes... I’m sorry for doubting you.”

“Realistically we need more scans. Scans for when he’s sleeping, but the physical evidence will have to do...”

“Care to let us in on the secret?” Steve’s voice cuts through yours, interrupting your harried whispers with Tony. You nod your head and Tony moves to stand by the window as you lift a scan and point at it, “This is the area of the brain where the words are stored. At night, Bucky is at his weakest, that’s why he has so many nightmares. If we took sleeping scans, we’d probably see increased hyperactivity here.”

“So why are you so worried about his scans for when he’s awake?”

“Be quiet and you might find out!” you snap, “During the day, this area of the brain is usually dormant. But from these scans, we can see that it’s not as benign as we thought. There is increased hyperactivity during the day and-- Bucky are you okay?”

Bucky nods his head, clenching hard, “Just having an internal battle with the devil. Continue, by all means.”

“Right... uh... There is increased hyperactivity during the day which means that the soldier is taking over more frequently. Um...On Friday, when Bucky was with me, he was relaxed and enamoured, meaning he was at his weakest and the soldier was able to take over easily. As time goes on, it’s becoming less about the words, although they are still the core problem”.

“So what do you suggest?” asks Steve, biting his lip. You look at Tony and he stands, “Project Cursed...”

“Which is?”

“A Hydra-inspired Avengers-modified treatment.”

“Hydra-inspired? What the hell?”

“Hydra wiped Bucky’s mind. They used electrolysis, right? Electric shocks through the brain, so he would associate each word with pain, and make it easier for them to control him. He would hear a word and know he had to do what they said if he didn’t... pain. As the years went by, his body went into auto-drive, hear the words, do as they say, disobey and expect pain. Like training a dog to know when it hears the bell, food is coming, except a lot more brutal,” you explain, “We want to do a similar thing. Small electric shocks through the brain, someone says the words and associates them with something nice. He’ll be able to learn not to expect pain from hearing the words.”

“And what about the soldier?” asks Bucky, his face pale. You smile, “The electric shocks will be fed directly into the storage area of your brain, hitting the soldier. As you get better, the soldier should begin to disappear and, when the treatment is finished, he should be gone completely. We’ve had the green light from Shuri so I’m confident this could work. Although it won’t happen overnight. It’s going to take weeks, months, maybe even years. I can’t pretend it won’t be painful for you either. But it’s the best plan we’ve got.”

Bucky and Steve glance at each other, their eyes betraying a whole conversation that you can’t hear. Then, Steve snaps, “No. Absolutely not. This isn’t treatment, Bucky, this is torture!”

“I’ve had 70 years of it, pal, what’s a few more? And this should help me, in the long run”.

“In the long run! Bucky... I can’t tell you what to do--”

“You certainly try...”

“But if you do this... I can’t be a part... I can’t help you...”

“Steve... you want these words gone from my head as much as me. I’m going to need your help and support...”

Steve looks scared and your heart reaches out to him. He just wants his pal to be free, with no more pain, and this... this could set him back months, mentally. Eventually, he sighs, “I wanna sleep on it. And I think you should too.”

Bucky shakes his head, reaching for your hand and pressing a light kiss to your knuckles, “I don’t need to. As long as Y/N can be there, with me, helping me, then I don’t need to. I have more of reason than ever to get these words out of my head.”

Steve doesn’t respond. His eyes glaze over where Bucky’s hand meets yours and the slightly visible chain underneath your hospital gown, and he knows. Bucky’s made his choice, and there’s no moving him. He sweeps out of the room, closely followed by an apologetic Tony. You turn to him, “Do you mean it?”

“What?”

“That I’m a reason for you wanting to get rid of these words?”

Bucky smiles and presses a kiss to your lips, “I gave you those dog tags in the name of love. You are my biggest and best reason. You are my hope.”

Taglist:

@indecisivedolly

[monoxidecahedron]

a slip of the tongue- jamilmads

@who-knew-what I wrote a part 2 to Home Is Where The Heart Is! expect more to come, too. I’m already working on two more installments in this universe. I’ll tag all of them with “#home ‘verse” so you can find them. enjoy, y’all!

“Alex?” John asks, peering into Alex’s office. The man is barely keeping himself awake, empty mugs of coffee all around him and papers on the floor. It’s nearly midnight. “Are you alright? Do you need me to take you home?” 

“I’m alright,” Alex mutters. “They’ll take me home.” John furrows his brow. People taking care of Alexander Hamilton isn’t unheard of, exactly, but usually it’s one of his friends, and he isn’t aware of any new people in the friend group. Everyone else is sleeping at home already. 

“Who?” he asks. “You got a boyfriend or something?” He meant it as a joke, because Alex would have told him. Right? But then Alex looks up at him, his tired expression twisting into something happier. 

“I got boyfriend,” he slurs, obviously exhausted. John sighs. Whatever that means, he’ll parse it later. For now, he just wants to make sure Alex gets back to his house. 

“Yeah, well, is ‘boyfriend’ gonna pick you up in a few? The office is closing soon,” he says. 

“Thomas’ll drag me out anyways,” Alex responds, though he looks distinctly annoyed at the thought. 

The revelation hits John like a freight train. There’s only one Thomas in the office (not counting Thomas Paine, who’s a level above them when it comes to management and is also very old), and that Thomas is the guy Alex screams at and then complains about to John. What? He considers asking Alex for more details, but looks again at Alex’s figure hunched over the desk, typing furiously, and decides against it.

Alex, in his sleep-deprived state, has no idea why he said “I got boyfriend” or if he even said it. He has a vague memory of John’s gears turning as he stares at him from the doorway, but that’s all, and he promptly forgets about it. 

Thomas and James are entirely unaware of the incident. Thomas did end up storming in after receiving an email from Alex about the project he was working on and dragging him out, scolding him like a child (“I have no idea what you’re trying to accomplish with this, Alexander, but so far I only see death by loss of sleep”), but only several minutes after John had left. 

So a week later he finds himself dragging James into his office. He just wants a quick kiss, initially, and then it turns into something more and James is straddling him in his chair, making out like there’s no tomorrow, and then John Laurens barges in, stops short, glares at Thomas, and turns on his heel and runs. Thomas exchanges a bemused look at James, but John’s been sending him those glares (albeit more of an “I’m watching you” sort) all week, and he thinks nothing of it, chasing James’ mouth with his own again. 

Alex barely looks up as John barges into his office, glancing once at his friend and then returning to the screen. The click of the keyboard resumes, John’s heavy breathing filling the office. “What is it?” Alex asks when John continues to simply stand there, out of breath from his run. It takes a few more moments before he can gather enough breath to speak. 

“Thomas- is- cheating,” he pants. 

Alex’s head snaps up. “What?” he says sharply. He isn’t worried for himself- he can deal with the fucker- but it’s James he’s worried about. And then there’s also a slight disbelief. He knows John would never lie to him, not with something like this, but he also knows that Thomas wouldn’t cheat. Right?

“He- was- hang on,” John says. Now in a better state, he continues, “he was making out with Madison in his office, I’m really sorry, Ham- what is it?” Alexander had slumped over his desk, cackling with laughter.

“Oh my god,” he says after a moment in which he feels hysterical and John is plain confused. “I cannot believe- I thought- if you knew about Thomas-” 

“Get to the point, will you?” John asks, beginning to feel annoyed. 

“Okay- okay so,” Alex begins, then dissolves into laughter again. “Sorry. So. Thomas is my boyfriend.” John nods, well aware. “James is also my boyfriend.” At this, John tilts his head. Wouldn’t that be worse, then? Double betrayal? “Thomas is also James’ boyfriend.” John is lost, as is evident in his expression. “Look- it’s- it’s basically like, like, I like both of them and they like me and them- like a- it’s a- triangle of love, of sorts,” he says. Having never really considered the unconventionality of his relationship, he finds himself at a loss to describe it. John is even more lost, having not followed half of what he was saying. “Like a couple, except with three people! I’m with James and Thomas and Thomas is with James and me and James is with Thomas and me. Like a big puddle of love,” he says, acutely aware that he’s not doing a very good job of explaining. John, however, seems to get it, nodding slowly as he processes the words. 

“OH!” he nearly shouts. “Ohhhh. Goddamn, I feel like an idiot.” 

Alex laughs. “You are!” 

Later that night, Alex finishes recounting the story to his boyfriends, lying across Thomas and James’ laps on the couch. James laughs, fingers entangled in Alex’s hair. “Wait- so how many of your friends besides John know about us?” Thomas asks. Alex pauses, considers. 

“Actually I think only John knows,” he says. “Wow. I just completely forgot to tell them.” 

“Are you going to tell them?” James says. “I mean, I could understand if you didn’t want to, considering-” he waves his hand around, the gesture invoking memories of shouting competitions in meetings and furious disagreements and, especially, Alex breaking off his friendship with James and coming to them crying afterwards. 

“It… should be fine,” Alex says, though he sounds uncertain. “In any case, they’re my friends, they’re legally obligated to support me even if my boyfriends are assholes.” Thomas smacks his thigh. 

“I’m gonna call them right now,” Alex announces. “I’m probably going to forget later if I don’t.” Saying this, he picks his phone up from where he’d discarded it on the floor and proceeds to call Eliza. She picks up on the first ring. 

But it isn’t her who answers. “This better be a good excuse for why you’re not at game night,” Angelica snaps. Alex’s face is blank for a moment, and then he remembers. 

“Shit!” he hisses. “I’m so sorry, Angie, I just-” he looks up at James and Thomas, who are giving him disapproving looks- “forgot. I’m so sorry.” 

“I’m putting you on speaker. Apologize to all of us.”

“Sorry!” Alex says into the phone, and he hears a chorus of voices rushing to reprimand him.. 

“This is the second time in a row you’ve forgotten,” Hercules says. “What happened, man? I thought you had a reminder or something!” 

“I thought I did!” Alex says desperately. “I’m so sorry, you guys. I was just, uh…” He trails off, searching his mind for a plausible excuse. 

“Well?” Peggy asks. 

“Actually, I called you guys to tell you something because I forgot to, so uh…” James nudges him. “I have boyfriends,” he says. Their reactions are immediate: five different voices start talking at once, raising their voices to be heard over the others and creating a cacophony of both pleased and annoyed tones. He can’t hear John saying anything, and he imagines him sitting smug on his bean bag (Hercules has bean bags in his apartment for whatever reason) while the others crowd the phone. 

“Who?” Lafayette demands. “Tell us at once, mon ami! Why did we not know sooner?” 

“Uh. So,” he starts, hearing his friends fall silent at once. “James?” It comes out more of a question than an answer, but they get it immediately. 

“Madison?” Eliza says. “Didn’t you-” 

“Yes, well, we’ve worked it out,” James interjects. It’s still a bit of a sore subject. There’s immediate squeals on the other end. 

“James!” Angelica says in surprise. “You’re there?” 

“Evidently,” he says, though he’s smiling. “Hello, Angelica.”

“Mon amiiiiii, you cannot leave us hanging like this,” Lafayette interrupts. “Tell us who the other person is! Do we know him? Is he handsome? Oh! Are they a girl?” 

“You do know him,” Alex concedes, “and his handsomeness… mmm, not quite there,” he continues, earning another smack on the thigh from Thomas. 

“I am very handsome, thank you very much,” Thomas cuts in smoothly. His friends fall silent at once. 

“Is that… is that Jefferson?” Peggy whispers. 

“It IS!” Lafayette shouts. “I knew it! I knew it! See, I told you, Alex, mon cousin is not that bad once you get used to him-” 

“Is it Attack Thomas Day or something?” Thomas grumbles. James pats him condescendingly on the head. 

“Hush now, the grownups are talking,” he says. 

“Hold up,” comes Hercules’ voice from the phone, which is now balanced on Alex’s chest. “You’re dating  Jefferson? The guy you used to whine about whenever you came over?” Thomas raises an eyebrow at him.

“Oh? You whined about me? Do I truly affect you that much?” he teases. 

Alex makes a hmph noise. “I did not!” he protests. “Stop lying, Hercules!” And that’s the end of any questions about his relationship, thank god. They spend a couple more minutes just messing around with each other before they disconnect abruptly upon discovering that John knew before them. 

There’s silence for a bit afterwards. Thomas shifts, nestling closer to James and slinging his arm around him, the other hand resting on Alex’s thigh. “Your friends are… something,” James says eventually, threading his fingers once again through Alex’s hair. 

Alex laughs. “They sure are.”

I very much hope “I got boyfriend” made you laugh as much as I did. Please, please reblog! Likes don’t do anything! If you comment I’ll love you forever.

[yeenybeanies]

Dreaming of Snakes

i haven’t written anything in a Hot Minute, so i think i need some soft cowboy to get me back in the groove :>

red dead redemption | arthur morgan & devin clarke ( oc )

1868 words

no warnings

reblogs > likes!! feel free to leave comments in the tags!!

The pitter-patter of rain on canvas should be soothing, but instead it’s a constant reminder of an unfortunate situation. Rain isn’t usually a problem so much as an inconvenience, but this rain—this rain has been droning on for three days. There hasn’t been a break yet, and it doesn’t look like there will be one anytime soon. Devin sighs, chin resting on their propped-up palm and eyes staring unfocused into the middle distance. They came to Arthur on the second day of the downpour. What a sight that had to have been.

“ Arthur—- “  the borrower croaked, peeking out from their hiding spot. Arthur’s boots squelching in the mud announced his arrival.

“ Devin? ”   Surprised, he quickly glanced behind him to check for any prying eyes and ears near his tent, then turned his attention down to the voice. they hadn’t visited in a few days, and he was starting to worry. Seeing them like this—clothes and hair dripping wet—didn’t alleviate that worry any. Arthur sat down on his bed, acting natural for the sake of discretion, but his eyes were filled with concern.

Devin shuffled out from their cover, awkward, uneasy, absolutely soaked.  “ I, uh . . . my home flooded because of the rain, and I . . .. ” they trailed off, feeling embarrassed. A borrower was supposed to take care of themself, no matter what. Yet, here Devin was, coming to a human ( again ) for help.

Arthur patted the spot next to him on his bed, inviting the borrower closer. Devin did not hesitate, quickly scurrying over and up to join him.

“ You can stay here if ya need—if that’s what you’re askin’. ”  His smile was warm. It was always warm, comforting. His hand settled lightly behind them, the radiating heat from his palm quickly seeping into Devin’s soaked form.

They were asking, though they didn’t like to. Devin’s shoulders drooped in time with their heavy sigh.  “ Thank you, Arthur. ”

“ Not a problem, Miss Devin. ”

What a sight then and what a sight now. Devin hasn’t been able to move much since coming here. They’ve occupied themself with staring forlornly into the rain, and hiding whenever any of the camp’s many members comes within twenty feet of Arthur’s tent. The downpour has subdued some of the camp activity, but not all of it.

More embarrassing than needing the shelter, though, is Devin’s inability to ( safely ) gather food and materials for themself. They were willing to venture out in an attempt to save some semblance of their pride, but Arthur has been pretty insistent from the get-go that they stay here. So here they stay, displeased, but realistic about the situation. In rains like these, there’s a high likelihood that they could get swept away. It’s hard not to feel a bit like a pet, though they know that Arthur would never think of them as such.

The day is long. With nothing to do, it feels longer. Charles visits at some point to check up on Devin, which is nice, but he can’t stay too long lest he draw attention. Nope, Devin is alone and bored out of their mind for most of their day. They aren’t used to being so . . . inactive. With the rain droning on and nothing to occupy their time, Devin’s thoughts begin to wander. Dark things come to the forefront—things they avoided thinking about for years.

Arthur isn’t the first person they put their trust into. He’s the second. The first was a vile man. He always wore an ugly snakeskin hat. He started out nice, gentle, kind—a bit like Arthur—-

No. Devin shakes their head. Arthur isn’t like that man. Arthur wouldn’t trap them and keep them, show them off to his friends like some exotic marvel. He wouldn’t.

Devin huffs. They don’t want to think on their past traumas with the Snakeskin Man.

By the time Arthur returns, the sun has sunk well beyond the horizon. It’s dark, and Devin is nowhere to be seen. The gunslinger calls out softly. No response. Odd. He checks a few of their common hiding spots. Nothing. Concerning. Arthur isn’t one to worry over nothing; normally he’d just assume the borrower ran off to handle their own daily affairs, but with the rain still pouring and all the flooding he’d seen on the ground today . . . well, he’d really rather find them inside the tent.

“ Devin? Where’re ya at? I brought ya somethin’ to eat . . ..”  He’d left some food out for them to snack on during the day, but he still thought it’d be nice to bring back some treats.

After checking a few more hiding spots, Arthur lets out a sigh and sits down onto his bed. He’s ready to wrestle with his growing worry, but a squeak to his left draws the man’s attention. Just barely visible is a small lump under the blanket––a small, twitching lump. Arthur gingerly lifts the blanket up and peers underneath. Much to his relief, he can see Devin’s little form curled up, their back to him. They are indeed twitching and mumbling though, which is unusual. It looks like they’re dreaming, and it doesn’t look particularly pleasant.

“ Miss Devin? ”  Gentle fingers reach forth and brush the borrower’s back, giving them a tiny nudge. That dream has a tight hold, though; Arthur chews the inside of his lip and tries again, this time giving them a little shake at the shoulder.

The day’s boredom took its toll on the borrower: those thoughts of the Snakeskin Man have crept their way into their dreams, poisoning their sleep with unpleasant memories. His careless hands shake them, his distorted voice yells at them, and when they open their eyes, they swear it’s really him in front of them. He’s found them somehow! 

They scream. They flail and they thrash and they scramble back from the hand, bleary eyes staring fearfully up at the bean hovering over them. That hand retreats quickly, very unlike the Snakeskin Man. Devin blinks and spares a moment to rub their eyes, clearing their vision enough to see that it’s not him, but Arthur–––

Oh, Arthur . . .. 

The gunslinger stares down at them, eyes wide with shock at their outburst. In the coming seconds, that shock turns to hurt. Devin feels guilt rush over them quickly, but they’re still trying to recover from their fright.

It was just a nightmare. This is Arthur! 

“ I–I–– ”  they stammer over the beginnings of a sentence, but Arthur cuts them off.

“ I’m–I don’t mean to frighten you, Miss Devin . . .. I was just tryin’a make sure you were okay. Here––I can––– ”  he folds the blanket down and scoots back a ways, giving Devin some space.

“ No—Arthur, it’s not—just give me a minute, okay? ”   He nods, but there is uncertainty on his face. Devin’s heart would be broken, but it’s too busy pounding against their rib cage. They breathe in and out, fighting the adrenaline.

Slowly but surely, the worst of the fright ebbs away, though Devin is still quite shaken. They run their hands through their hair to try and tame it, then look over at Arthur, who’s averted his gaze. His lips are tight, his body tense.

“ Miss Devin, I want you to be honest with me, okay? ”  The gunslinger watches them from his peripherals, but he doesn’t face them directly. There’s a quiet, guarded tone in his voice.  “ Do I scare you? D’ya think I’m gonna hurt ya? ”

Devin opens their mouth, ready to reassure Arthur, but the words don’t come as quickly as they’d like. They wouldn’t be entirely truthful. The guilt rushes back––not that it ever really left––and Devin looks down to their lap.

“ I don’t think you’re going to hurt me, ”  they say. That much is true. Arthur can and does hurt people, but he does not mean Devin any harm. This they believe.  “ However . . . ” this part is a bit harder. Devin fidgets with their hands.  “ It’s . . . difficult not to be intimidated. It’s not your fault. I promise. It’s just . . . y’know, you’re so much bigger than me, and the last bean I trusted––– ”  they shudder before they can finish that thought, eyes squeezing closed. 

They never mentioned the Snakeskin Man before. They never mentioned his name, or anything about him––or even that he was a he. All Arthur knows is that he isn’t the first human  “ bean ”  that Devin has come into contact with. He has tried to ask a little about Devin’s previous experiences––both with and without any past humans––but they’ve always been sparse on the details. Out of courtesy, he’s never pressed much, though he’s always felt a curiosity. Now, hearing this, that curiosity burns even more.

“ Y’don’t gotta tell me anythin’ ya don’t want to, ”  he reminds ( though he wishes they would ).

“ I want to, ”  they say quickly, before Arthur can try to placate them further. They scoot over and gesture for Arthur to make himself comfortable; it’s quite the story Devin has to tell.

On nights when Devin visits, it’s not uncommon for Arthur to turn off the lamps and lie down while the two of them share quiet conversation in the dark. It’s less conspicuous, and far easier for them both to talk with the height difference mitigated. It also gives Arthur an opportunity to see Devin up close––even if it’s only in faint moonlight.

Once he’s settled on his side, Devin clears their throat. There need not be any light for him to see that they’re nervous. Worry pricks at his mind.

The things Devin tells him, the abuse they recall, the trepidation in their voice––Arthur listens, silent, but stewing. He is not an innocent man, this he knows, but Arthur struggles to imagine how someone could intentionally bring harm to Devin. The mere thought threatens to send him into a rage. This  “ Snakeskin Man ”––Arthur swears he’ll gut him and skin him like a deer if their paths ever cross. 

He keeps that to himself, though. More immediately, he focuses on Devin. They’re shaking slightly, no doubt rattled from their none-too-pleasant trip down memory lane.

“ Come ‘ere, ”  he says, offering an open hand. Wordlessly, Devin leans into it, their cheek pressed to his warm palm. Arthur swears he can feel a faint dampness, like the smallest of tears. His fingers curl around them, cradling and sheltering them. What he lacks in his ability to comfort with words, he more than makes up for with his gentle touch. 

Devin doesn’t say much more, their words spent and exhausted. Huddled up in the gunslinger’s hand, though, their shivering stops.

“ Micah kinda reminds me of him, ”  they say.  “ He just needs to sound more English. ” 

Arthur snorts softly at the thought of an English-sounding Micah. He didn’t think it possible to imagine the man sounding any more ridiculous. 

“ Micah’s probably one to avoid. ”  If that snake ever did get his hands on Devin, Arthur’s sure he’d kill him.

“ Yeah. I don’t plan to introduce myself anytime soon. ”  Devin breathes out a sigh and runs their fingers idly over the ridges of Arthur’s palm. They’ve calmed down for now. Arthur, it seems, has a talent for making them feel safe, even if they are a little intimidated at times. 

“ Did . . . you say you brought back food? Or did I dream that up? ”

[samthemarvelfan]

Goodbyes: Chapter Eight

Summary: Ella Monroe is the Avengers newest recruit, handpicked by Steve Rogers himself. Indebted to him for reasons unknown, Cap pairs her up with Bucky Barnes. He is tasked with training her to relearn and hone the skills that have long since rusted. Bucky is cold and distant, and Ella can’t seem to break through the wall he’s built up for decades. He sees something in her though, and it scares him to death. Has the fate of these two strangers been sealed? …or will they always be longing…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC, feat Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff, Tony Stark

Warnings: ANGST, Bucky is a dick, mutual pining, self sabotage, slow burn, alcohol, flirting, swearing. I think that’s it!  Def not following a specific MCU canon or timeline.

A/N: I legit can’t believe the love from you all! Gosh my lil heart might burst! Please stick with me after this chapter and please don’t hate me! Patience is a virtue after all. Thank you for every comment, like, message and reblog. Love you endlessly. <3

Taglist: @iheartsebastianstan @jjlizz @stuckysbabe @sk493494 @lefoutoir @nickangel13 @marvelismysafezone @lilulo-12 @warmvanillafeels @heartofagamotto @ravenesque @pinknerdpanda (strikethrough means the tag didn’t work! I’m sorry!)  (strikethrough means the tag didn’t work! I’m sorry! Tags are OPEN!)

Three fucking weeks.

At this point, you were almost positive you were losing your mind.

Everyone was still in Romania, and you hadn’t had any actual contact with the team. Sam occasionally gave you the smallest of updates, usual in the form of a message that said “we’re alive.”

Gotta love that detail.

Wanda had checked on you too, making sure you were eating, as you had a tendency to forget to when you were stressed.

What drove you mad more than anything was that you hadn’t heard from Bucky. Was it really all in your head? The two of you connecting finally, and then he just vanished without a word?

Sure, maybe you were being irrational and needy. He was working; risking his life for the greater good after all. That doesn’t make it hurt any less, though.

“Miss Monroe, you’re receiving a call.” FRIDAY’s voice announced.

You jumped off the couch and ran to comm beacon in the middle of the table.

“Hello?” You ask, hopeful.

“Hey, Punchline! Miss me?” Sam’s humorous tone asked.

You couldn’t even speak, the only sound escaping your lips was an almost sob of relief.

You hear Steve chuckle in the background. “I’ll take that as a yes, meet us on the roof in 5?”

“You bet.” You reply quickly.

You pull your gray, half-zip hoodie over your head as you jog to the elevator. “Flight deck.” You announce as you enter.

The doors close and you hear and feel the rumble of the Quinjet docking. “Finally.” You whisper to yourself.

You get to the roof and see the bay doors opening as the ramp drops. Steve is the first one out, followed swiftly by Sam.

“You guys look the shit.” You jest, running at Steve with open arms.

He wraps you in the tightest hug, “Missed you too, Ella.” He laughs.

“How ‘bout me?” Sam asks. You turn to him with a smile, and he embraced you too.

“Is everyone alright? Did you...did you guys...is it done?” You couldn’t really formulate a thought, your mind still wondering how the hell they survived.

Steve nodded. “Every ounce of data we could extract, we did. That base wasn’t even close to inactive. In fact, it was the hub for HYDRA’s new order.”

Your mouth dropped, “What?”

Sam spoke, “Don’t worry, there’s a debriefing tomorrow, we’ll let you know everything we know.”

Your eyes glance behind Steve and Sam. You see Wanda and Vision exit the plane, relieved that they’re okay. You were chewing on your bottom lip, feeling the impatience take hold of you.

Where the hell is he? You thought.

“Hey Ella, listen—“ Sam said, but you tuned him out, hearing more footsteps on the ramp.

There he was, Bucky, safe and—what?

He was holding someone. A woman. Carrying her like a parent does their child after they’ve fallen asleep in the car.

She was stunning. Milky skin with gorgeous red locks. You knew who this was without a doubt, recalling her photo from the file you’d read months ago. Natasha, the Black Widow.

She was smiling. He was smiling. A real, genuine, happy look graced his face as he walked towards you all.

“Barnes, you can put me down now.” She laughed.

He shook his head, “Not a chance, Kitten. Can’t have you runnin’ off on me again can we?”

She pushed some hair out of his face, “I’m not going anywhere this time. I found what I was looking for, and I don’t intend on letting it go.” She smirked her perfect lips at him, causing him to blush.

Bucky places her gently on her feet before looking at you. His eyes looked panicked as he took in the expression on your face.

“You must be Ella! Nice to meet you, I’m Nat. Steve’s told me so much about you.” She smiled, pulling you in for a hug.

Why didn’t Bucky tell you about me? You think begrudgingly.

A smile graced your face nonetheless as you return the hug. “Its an honor, you’re a legend.” You say in an attempt to control your tone. It was true, too. Natasha Romanoff was infamous in your line of work.

“Don’t boost her ego, Kid.” Tony says walking by you.

You smiled politely, eager to escape to your room. “Well you guys must be exhausted, I’ll let you—“

“Hell no. I need a drink and I need one now.” Sam said as he walked towards the door leading back inside.

“You think you get to drink alone, Wilson? I don’t believe that’s how this relationship works.” Tony said as he completed his retinal scan by the keypad.

“We’re gonna have a ‘hey look at that, none of us died’ dinner tonight. Pizza, beer, booze, music. 8 o’clock in the lounge.” Tony said disappearing inside.

You turned around to see Bucky whispering in Natasha’s ear, both laughing like giddy fucking schoolgirls.

Are they...does he...is she... you’re brain tried to think, but it couldn’t seem to complete a thought.

You wanted to punch him in that smug face of his. He didn’t even have the balls to say goodbye to you when he left, and now that he’s back he has the audacity to not say two words to you?

“I’m always down for pizza, how ‘bout you Ella?” Steve asked, swinging an arm around your shoulder and leading you back inside.

Bucky eyed Steve with a curious look, but you couldn’t help smiling at your friend, “Is that even a question, Steve? Pizza is a main food group in my opinion, you know that.”

He and Nat were swiftly on you heels. “You sure about that Els? You look exhausted, have you been sleeping?” Bucky asks from behind you.

You stop suddenly and turn on your heel. Is he serious? The first thing he says to you is basically ‘you look like shit’ and ‘please don’t come to this party’.

“Now that you mention it, Sergeant, I haven’t been sleeping. I was worried about my friends. Wondering when and if I’d see them again, I’d hate to leave thing left unsaid,”

You grab Steve’s and Sam’s hand in each of yours and lift them, “But it looks like everyone I care about made it back on one piece.”

You turn back around and head into the elevator with everyone.

You stood in your room, fuming.

Is this really who you’ve become? This pathetic teenager pining after someone who will never be hers?

It sure seems that way.

Your stomach churns at the image of he and Nat...together.

An excessive groan leaves your lips as you flop on the bed, ready to let yourself wallow.

Your plans, however, are interrupted by a knock on your door. “What?!” You scream.

The door opens slowly, “I thought you’d have missed me?” Wanda says.

You shoot up, and smile like an idiot. “Of course I missed you, Wan. I’m so glad you’re back!” You embrace her.

The two of you had become quite close recently, and it was so nice to have a girl friend around again.

“Then why do I get the feeling I interrupted a wallowing session, hm?” She said slyly.

You raise an eyebrow at her, “Wan...” You scold.

“I know, I know—stay outta your head. But Ella, your thoughts are so loud I can barely hear my own!” She laughed.

You sigh and sit on the edge of your bed, Wanda joining you.

“I’m just mad. I’m mad at myself for acting like a love struck teenager, I’m mad at him for yoyo-ing me all the damn time. I’m just...”

“In love.” She finished your sentence.

You laugh aloud, “Wan, you have to know someone to love them. That big oaf of a man is too damn stubborn to let anyone in! Besides, I don’t think it’s me he wants.”

“What’s that suppose to mean?” She asked.

You stand heading to your closet, looking through clothes to wear for tonight.

“Nothing. Forget I mentioned it.”

Wanda’s footsteps followed you, “I know you say Bucky’s stubborn, but so are you, Ella.” She smiled softly, her nimble fingers landing on a black velvet dress.

“This one.” She says. The long sleeved, deep v dress was your absolute favorite, and also very fancy.

“Isn’t that a bit much?” You ask.

She raised her eyebrows at you. “Uh, have you met Tony? He says ‘pizza and beer’ but he means a gala... with less people.”

“Fine, but I swear to God if you don’t dress up too then I’m coming back here and putting on pajamas.” You hold your pinky out to her.

She hooks it with a smile, “Deal.”

8 o’clock comes far too fast in your opinion.

You’d spent the last two hours in your bathroom doing your makeup and hair, and you look damn good.

The dress rested a bit below mid-thigh, and fit you perfectly. You make a mental not to thank Wanda later for forcing you into it.

“Breathe, Ella.” You say to yourself as the elevator carries you to the lounge floor.

Your black heels click through the corridor, the sound softening as your ears fill with classic rock from the end of the hall.

You slowly push the wooden door open, and spot everyone mingling. Maria Hill was there, as was Rhodey, and another man you’d never met before.

“Oh shoot! I didn’t know we had a supermodel living with us!” Sam shouts.

You laugh, “Oh shut up, you’ve clearly already been drinking.”

He shook his head, “So what? I still got eyes, don’t I?”

“You look beautiful.” Steve says cutting Sam off, placing a kiss on your cheek.

You blush, “Thank you, Steve. You boys clean up pretty nice too. I don’t think we’ve ever seen each other like this.”

Steve shakes his head, “Not exactly the suit I’m most comfortable in.” He took a sip of what you assume is scotch. “What are you drinkin’, sweetheart?” He asks.

“Honestly? Anything with vodka. Then I’ll have a shot or two.” You say, taking a seat at the high top table next to him.

“Coming right up, Sam why don’t you come with me fore you dig a deeper hole for yourself?”

You hear Sam grumbling as Steve drags him away, and you suddenly feel yourself being watched.

You scan the room, and spot him almost instantly. He’s standing with Nat, her back to you, leaning on the bar.

Bucky’s eyes, though glassy from the booze no doubt, had never been more focused.

His gaze roamed your body from your feet to your face. He licked his lips slowly, before capturing his bottom one in his teeth.

Shaking your head, you look away from him. “Don’t even think about it, buddy.” You mutter to yourself. You glance at him quickly one final time and see Nat waving her hand in front of his face.

Bucky’s trance seems to get broken and he falls back into conversation with her with ease.

“Moscow Mule? I think that’s what the bartender called it.” Steve says approaching you.

A light bulb suddenly goes off in your head.

“Steve? Can I ask for a favor?” You say, squeezing the lime into your drink

He nods, “Anything, what’s on your mind?”

You let out a large breath. “Okay, please don’t think I’m immature but I’ve been thoroughly pissed at your best pal over there,” you gesture with a nod of your head.

“and I’d really like to get him back for all the shit he’s put me through.”

Steve sips his drink again, as Sam places 3 shot of Jameson on the table. “What did you have in mind?”

Bucky’s breathing stopped the moment he saw her. He didn’t think she could get anymore beautiful.

Turns out he was incredibly, outstandingly wrong.

He felt his heat racing and his blood pumping, drowning out whatever Nat was telling him about her plans for the evening.

Ella’s eyes were everything to him. They bared her soul and showed him her heart at the same time. He’d never been able to see a future for himself, until she fell into his life.

He worried about her constantly. Not being able to see her or talk to her or hear her voice for nearly 3 weeks drove him crazy. Then seeing her in the state she was in, so obviously sleep deprived and stressed. He hated himself for making her worry so much, and it was clear she wasn’t too happy with him when he got back this morning.

“Hello, Earth to Barnes? Did you hear me?” Nat said, waving her hand.

Bucky shook his head, “No sorry, what was that?”

Nat smiled slyly. “Mhm, your girls got you in a tizzy, that’s for sure.” She said, sipping her martini.

Bucky smiled shyly. “She’s not my girl, no matter how much I wish she was.”

Nat slapped his lapel, “So what the fuck are you doing fuck standing here with me?!”

“Ow! Okay, okay! Christ, shouldn’t you be fucking Banner in a utility closet or something?” He laughed stepping away from her.

“All in good time, Barnes. Now go get your girl.” She said spinning away from him.

Bucky’s eyes traveled to where she was standing, but she wasn’t there. Sam was in her spot, downing a shot Bucky was sure he’d regret in the morning.

He maneuvered around the groups of people, searching for her. The soft rock music playing poignantly through the speakers, he sees a few couples dancing.

He scoots around them and spots Steve.

Good for him. He thought happily to himself.

When Steve sways around with his partner, he sees its not a random guest he’s dancing with. Steve is dancing with a beautiful girl, a woman, Bucky’s girl.

Bucky wants to throw up and kick his ass all at once.

But then he sees Ella.

She’s smiling, and comfortable. She’s happy as she rests her head on Steve’s chest, and sways to the rhythm of the song.

The alcohol in his system doesn’t make these feelings any easier to handle. His vibranium fist clenching and unclenching.

A whirring sound get both Steve and your attention. That’s when you see Bucky standing about 10 feet away from the two of you as he watches dance.

“Hey Buck, wh—“

“Shut the fuck up, Steve.” Bucky slurs.

Your eyes widen at the words he says to his friend. Bucky is visibly shaking, and obviously drunk—probably more so than you, and that’s saying something since Sam kept the shots coming.

“Bucky, stop.” You say before your mind can stop you.

He lets out a sarcastic laugh, “Not fucking him, huh?” He spat in anger as he pushed by you, leaving the lounge all together.

Steve looked to the door, then to you. Your eyes brimming with tears as you swallowed a sob.

He looks at you with a sad smile, and nods his head toward the door. “Go get him.”

Chapter Nine: Seen

[obsidianfr3sk]

Rise of the Renegades (Chapter 3)

Summary:  Heroes come from the most unexpected places. Heroes sometimes feel a little too different, a little too scared, a little too alone. But heroes also know when enough is enough, and that before saving the world, they need to save themselves. And they cannot do it alone.

They were going to be the hope of the world. They were going to call themselves the Renegades. Even if they didn’t know it yet.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26246812/chapters/64645693

Enough of the gays, let’s see what the girls had been up to (? ah, and Evander lol. Uh... this is the first time I don’t have anything to say. Likes and reblogs are appreciated as always, I love y’all, and idk i send you, person reading this, good mexican vibes (? 

Tag list:  @nodrianbcyes @healing-winston-pratt @lethughandsimonkiss @cerenoya @cindersnightmare @itsalittlebitchilly @ohmyskies

A golden medallion, a golden cage

Please picture me in the weeds before I learned civility.

I used to scream ferociously any time I wanted.

Sweet tea in the summer,

cross my heart, won’t tell no other.

Tamaya

When she first arrived at that abandoned store, she thought it would take years for it to feel like home. There were many empty boxes, rats, dust, and rusty pipes. Also, Tamaya had never cleaned in her life. The prospect of having to deal with this mess on her own was not the least bit appealing to her.

However, the idea of going home was even less so.

The first night was uncomfortable. She couldn't sleep at all. Luckily, she had brought a flashlight with her and started to cover all the windows with loose wood and old cardboard. Then, with some chains and furniture, she blocked the entrances. She looked up at the ceiling and realized there was a light catcher.

Tamaya smiled. She wasn’t gonna block it.

She had overestimated how long it would take to clean the whole place. It turns out that when there was nothing else to do, one can work remarkably fast, even without help. Rats were the least of her problems. She wasn't disgusted when she grabbed them, stuffed them into a box, and released them a few blocks further at night. Georgia was so shocked by it that the first thing she did the next day was giving her an antibacterial gel. A luxury item in those times.

Tamaya preferred when Georgia brought her food. She didn’t like that much the fact she was living off the garbage from the place next door.

On the eighth night, she looked at her reflection in the dirty mirror at the back of the room. The candlelight was the only thing that illuminated her. Molly was sitting on her lap. She noticed that her once flawless green dress had tiny spots of an unknown substance.

But Tamaya looked even worse. Clothes had never mattered much to her and her wings were fine. What worried her the most was her hair. It had always been long. She had tried to convince her parents for years to let her cut it off, but they never let her. Why? Her hair was the prettiest thing she had.

It was at that moment, that Tamaya realized that she no longer needed to look pretty to anyone. Beauty was overrated.

She took a pair of scissors and cut her hair.

Her head and soul felt lighter.

The sun hadn't quite risen yet when Georgia entered through the light trap. For a few seconds, Tamaya could see the firmament was as pink as only sunrises could be. Under her arm, Georgia carried a cloth bag.

Tamaya rubbed her eyes wearily. She had been waiting for her sitting on an old chair for a long time.

“Honey, I’m home!” Georgia exclaimed gracefully coming down.

She always made the same joke. And Tamaya always had to pretend she didn’t find it funny.

“Oh, but I haven’t prepared breakfast yet,” she muttered.

Georgia looked at Molly and tossed the cloth bag at her. “Molly, catch it!”

Obviously, Molly didn't catch it. Georgia pretended to smash a cup of glass against the wall and raised herself a few feet off the ground to appear taller than Tamaya. “Tamaya, I want more children. Molly is too lazy and ugly.”

Tamaya put her hand to her mouth and faked a sob. “How can you say that in front of your daughter, Georgia?—” She waved at Molly. “—In front of your daughter!”

Then her friend grunted and lunged at Tamaya, knocking them down onto the mattress. “No! She is not a worthy heir to my wealth!” she exclaimed, sitting on her lap. “Her head is made of plastic! And she’s white! Tamaya, I'm not white! Who is the father?!”

“Of course she's your daughter!” Tamaya replied “You know how I know she’s yours? Because she’s a little piece of shit too!”

Georgia's jaw dropped. She closed her eyes, sighed, and with a dreamy smile, whispered, “A little piece of shit… That's my daughter,” and kissed her on the cheek.

Tamaya had never received kisses in her life. If her parents ever did, she had been too young to remember. But she liked it when Georgia did it because it was like...

Well, as if a sister did it. Or a mom. Or a real friend.

“That was the magic kiss that makes babies, by the—” Suddenly, Georgia dropped to the ground holding her belly. “Oh no, the baby is coming! The baby is coming! “ and, amid false screams worthy of a woman in labor, she took out of her jacket pocket a blue cardboard box with pink details. “Oh… Oh, Tamaya, dear,” she muttered, standing up. “She's beautiful,” and she put it in her arms.

Tamaya looked at it. They were tampons.

She didn't know where she was getting the strength not to laugh.

“Tampons Rae,” she whispered, stroking what would be the cheek of the box.

“Molly will be so jealous…”

“Molly will love her new sister. I'm sure.”

Georgia finally laughed and lay down next to Tamaya. It amazed her that lying on such a small, old mattress didn't bother her. She had never been to her room, but in her head, Tamaya had the image of her friend lying on a bed that could easily fit six people, wearing pajamas worthy of a princess and with the room smelling like vanilla and strawberries. Nothing to do with where they were now.

She looked at the box of tampons more closely. It felt a little lighter than expected, so she assumed Georgia had kept a few for her personal use, which honestly didn’t bother her. Then, she took out what was inside the bag. A bar of soap, a bottle of apple soda, and two bags of walnuts about to expire.

There were fewer supplies than last time.

She arranged them in a loose drawer next to the mattress. There was still an energy bar left that Georgia had brought her a couple of days ago. She took it and handed it to her.

“No, you eat, Tamaya,” Georgia said with a smile. “I have plenty at my house.”

“Okey,” she replied with a shrug. Tamaya took a small bite. It tasted weird. “Has your mom got a job yet?”

“No,” she muttered. “But she is already an older woman. Maybe that's why nobody wants to hire her. And it's not like many people have money to pay one more employee anyways. Also, she may have been an excellent lawyer at the time, but I'm not so sure if she's a good housekeeper or waitress.”

Tamaya nodded. She shouldn't have asked.

“I'm thinking about looking for a job too—”

“She won't let you.”

“So what?” Georgia said challengingly. “That thing about staying at home, reading and embroidering, doesn't suit me.” She crossed her arms. “I'm nineteen years old, I think it's time for me to start making my own decisions.”

Decisions. What a strange word.

Because that implied that she had options.

And Tamaya had already gotten used to not having them.

The good thing is that she was fully aware of it.

Georgia bit her lower lip and stood up. “I guess I should go. You know… to keep looking for a job.”

“Yes,” Tamaya said. "I guess you should.”

Her friend took the cloth bag. Tamaya walked with her until they were just below the light catcher. She should go out in the sun for a bit before people started to go outside.

“I'll come back tomorrow,” Georgia assured her, taking her hand. “I promise.”

She had promised that before and she had not always kept her word. However, Tamaya had already learned that promises were very easy to break and she didn't take it personally.

“I’ll wait for you.”

And she left.

And Tamaya was left alone. Again.

She waited a couple of minutes before sticking her head out of the light trap. She looked up at the morning sky, cold and clear, with the smell of garbage and pollution that characterized it at all hours. There was still no one on the streets, but the lady from the Chinese food place next door was taking out the trash from the day before, like every morning.

Breakfast.

Unlike Tamaya, she never looked up at the sky.

Nobody did. If they did, they would be aware of her presence. But people were too into their own thing that they didn't even bother to see something beyond their noses. Just thinking of themselves and their wishes. Of course, now that there was no longer someone to punish those who disrespected the thin line there was between good and evil, they had taken the opportunity to bring out the most primitive and selfish part of their beings.

Tamaya had spent a lot of her time thinking about it, and she still didn't understand the reason behind it.

Maybe it was that Tamaya would never understand the world of normal people.

Yes. That was probably it.

She waited for the woman to return inside to completely leave her lair. Tamaya was ready to go down to look for her food when a small and slim figure came out from behind some wooden boxes and ran towards the garbage bags.

She was going to take her breakfast.

Tamaya wasn't going to make it so easy for her.

That was what happened when people did not look up to the sky.

Kasumi

She wasn't looking in the trash for food, no. Kasumi was collecting the ingredients for the royal breakfast, which would take place in the most beautiful Chinese garden in the kingdom. It would be held that morning. They would be sitting by the river's edge, on a soft white blanket. She and Evander were going to eat like the monarchs that they were. There would be hard-boiled eggs, fresh plums, strawberries and cream, pancakes, waffles covered with jam, and cookie milkshakes. They would be able to eat whatever they wanted without getting sick to their stomachs. And if they did, they would only have to sing a song to the waters of the river and it would become the sweetest and most effective stomach ache remedy of all.

It was going to be the best feast there could have been.

But first, she had to find the ingredients.

She held her breath as she rummaged through the remains of rotten vegetables and sticky noodles. Think, think, think.

Kasumi was holding her breath because... the ingredients came from a magical bush. They had flowers that gave off a foul odor to scare off intruders. However, when they realized that Kasumi was pure of heart, they would reveal their true scent of grapes and rays of the sun.

Then, among all that mess, she found a box of white foam. She carefully removed a few pieces of grated carrot and tore it open with trembling hands.

Fried rice. A delicious plate of fried rice. And it actually looked edible.

She hugged the box with a lump in her throat. Oh, Evander was going to love this—

“That's mine.”

Kasumi froze.

It was the coldest and most terrifying voice she had ever heard. Hoarse and stern, it rumbled in her head like thunder in a storm.

A tear rolled down her cheek. God, Evander was so hungry. She was so hungry...

“Give it to me. Now.”

Kasumi rubbed her eyes and turned around. She put the foam box on the floor. and was about to look up, when the voice commanded, “Don't look at me.”

She obeyed. The mysterious voice took the box.

“I didn't mean to steal your food,” she muttered. “Sorry.”

A feather fell in front of her. Kasumi was slightly startled. Her head completely forgot what the voice had commanded, and she shone her flashlight.

It was a woman. She had shoulder-length hair and an aquiline nose. That, along with her amber eyes and huge black wings, Kasumi was sure she was seeing a bird. A lady.

A Ladybird.

Ladybird, are you the one who protects the magic bushes?

Ladybird did not like the light on her face. She hissed and slapped the flashlight from Kasumi’s hand. “I told you not to look at me!” she yelled.

At that moment, a flash caught Kasumi's attention. A flash of gold that came from a broken medallion hanging from Ladybird's neck.

She reached into the back pocket of her pants and felt between her fingers the half of that same locket that belonged to her.

Kasumi was wrong. Ladybird did not protect the magic bushes. Ladybird was a thief. Not only had she taken her and Evander's food, but she had also taken Mr. Holbrook's locket.

How delusional of her to believe that there were still people who protected something other than themselves.

Ladybird spread her wings, ready to take off when Kasumi lunged at her and tried to yank the locket from her. She pulled and pulled but the old chain wouldn't give up and Ladybird wouldn't stop yelling, “What the hell?! Let go of me!”

She took her by her long braid and threw her to the ground. However, the adrenaline rush allowed her to jump up and grab onto Ladybird's ankle. “That is not yours!” cried Kasumi. “Thief!”

“IT'S MY FOOD, BITCH!”

“IT'S NOT YOUR MEDALLION!”

The door to the store opened. Kasumi became so flustered that she accidentally let go of Ladybird's ankle and fell backward against the concrete. The lady started yelling rude words at her in an accent Kasumi could barely understand. She got to her feet, dodged the lady's broom, and ran as fast as her legs would allow her.

Regardless, Kasumi wished that Ladybird had escaped in time before the lady saw her. Something told her that she was not going to be nicer to her than she was to Kasumi.

She carefully pushed the rusty trash can. That, and the piece of wood that they put over that hole in the wall, made it impossible for someone unfamiliar with the area to know there was a secret entrance. Kasumi wondered how they would enter when they grew up. She herself sometimes had a little difficulty entering. But surely it was just her imagination. Besides, it wasn't like that wall was especially difficult to pull down.

From the looks of it, that place used to be an apartment complex. All the main entrances had been blocked with rubble and there was not a single window that was not broken. Kasumi and Evander had settled on the third floor. It was a dangerous thing to walk those increasingly unstable stairs, but it would be more dangerous for someone to remove the rubble, enter and see them. On the third floor, they would at least have a little time to escape.

Luckily, it hadn't been necessary yet.

She entered her small apartment and found Evander coloring the wall with pieces of chalk they had found in the park. When he saw her, his dirty freckled face lit up as much as the fireworks that came from his hands. “Kasumi!” he screeched. “Did you bring breakfast? Tell me you brought breakfast!”

Heartbroken, Kasumi swallowed the lump in her throat and clasped her hands behind her back. “Today I brought our favorite food, Vandy…”

Evander smiled even more. Kasumi opened an imaginary box and whispered, “Stardust cookies.”

Her friend's smile twisted a little in an almost imperceptible way. “Stardust cookies!" he exclaimed, taking one. Kasumi moistened her hands with her powers and wiped his face. Now, Evander didn’t look that dirty anymore. “Let me guess, these were cooked by—” he scratched his chin thoughtfully “—Your Mr. Dad!”

“No, it was your Mr. Dad,” Kasumi replied. They sat right in front of the window to eat their stardust cookies. There was still a star left in the sky. Perfect . “Hello Mr. Wade, thanks for the cookies. Evander, don't be rude. Thank to your Mr. Dad.”

Evander put his pieces of chalk in his pockets. He kept a pink one and gave Kasumi the blue one. “Thanks, Dad!” and proceeded to color a flower in the window frame.

Kasumi took a stardust cookie and chewed it. She always imagined stardust cookies as if they were vanilla cookies with pieces of almonds and white chocolates, so soft they left puffs all over the place.

Hopefully one day she could taste some real stardust cookies.

She decided to draw fishes.

“Don’t you think that today's cookies were a bit burnt?” Evander whispered.

“No, they were delicious,” she replied. “Your Mr. Dad showed off. Who do you think cooks better, your Mr. Dad or my Dad?”

“Mom Bertha.”

Kasumi giggled underneath. “You’re right, Vandy.”

They kept coloring.

They had always drawn on the walls. Their drawings, pretty cans, curious rocks, and bunches of sticks that hung from the corded rafters were the only decorations they had. However, lately, they had chosen to draw on the window frame during the early hours of the day.

Maybe it was because there was something romantic about drawing in the light of dawn. Or maybe it was because she liked to think that their parents could see what they were drawing from the stars.

Or both.

“I don't know if I can bear the same breakfast tomorrow,” Evander murmured. “We've been eating stardust cookies for almost two days.”

Don't cry, Kasumi, don't cry.

“And what do you want to eat then?” she asked. “What a pretty flower, by the way.”

Evander shook his head. “No, tell me what you want. And I'll get it myself today.”

Kasumi pursed her lips and scratched her head, pretending to seriously consider her answer. “I would like…” she muttered. “Oh, I know, a giant chocolate cake.”

“No, Kasumi, something easy!” Evander squealed, nudging her slightly. “A giant chocolate cake will crush me!” He threw himself to the ground and pretended to be crushed by a huge chocolate cake. “I'll be like this, dead…”

“How awful!” she exclaimed. “So… maybe a small chocolate cake?”

“Now that sounds a lot more reasonable,” he replied, sitting down again. “At least that one isn't going to crush me.”

“I don't feel comfortable speaking ill about your Mr. Dad’s food in front of him,” Kasumi said. “He's going to say I'm a bad influence and he won't let me hang out with you.”

“Dad, Kasumi is not a bad influence!” Evander yelled to the sky, “I swear!”

Mr. Wade looked at her from above, annoyed.

Kasumi didn't feel bad. She deserved it.

“Look at my flower,” Evander said, pulling her out of her thoughts. He pointed to a pink flower with triangular petals and huge circular leaves. “I just created it, it is a new species. Do you know how I'm going to name it?”

She ran her fingers over the drawing. If she concentrated enough, she could imagine that she was touching those velvety petals and not the hard concrete. “How?”

“Kasumi. Like you.”

Kasumi sighed.

Mrs. Moon, how do I explain that I am not worthy of having such a beautiful flower named in my honor?

Probably Mrs. Moon was upset with her too because she flatly refused to answer her question. She was also hungry. She was also mad at Kasumi for not trying a little more.

“Are you telling me that because you want me to give you the last stardust cookie?” she asked.

“Will you?”

Kasumi rolled her eyes in fake annoyance and handed him the last cookie. Evander almost snatched it from her hands. He went back to his drawing as he chewed it happily, moving to the beat of a song inside his head.

Imaginary music. Imaginary food.

Was he imaginary?

Am I imaginary?

She toyed with his red locks and realized she left traces of blue chalk in his hair. “Oh, sorry,” she mumbled.

Evander turned to see her, confused. “Why?”

Kasumi wanted to answer that she was sorry she had messed his hair.

But actually, she was sorry for everything.

[smallblueandloud]

hi essbie!! you seem super awesome❤️❤️ if you would like to talk to me about the west wing i would love that! i’m watching for the first time now and i’m in LOVE with it- tell me all your thoughts! otps, favorite episodes, arcs, characters... anything!

oh my god, this is my FAVORITE ASK THAT I HAVE EVER RECEIVED EVER. i’m so happy to talk about the west wing because the fandom that’s still alive today seems to be TINY (although high-spirited!!). thank you for asking!! i will endeavor to talk a lot.... which isn’t hard for me, lol.

(psst, before we begin, can i recommend you check out @donnajosh, who posts gorgeous new gifsets of tww pretty regularly [and also has gifs tagged by episode so you can find the right post to reblog when you’re liveblogging, shh], @etraytin, who’s written some AMAZING multichaps that have gotten me through this very stressful week, and @cassiesinsanity, who’s just plain genuinely amazing?? okay. now that that’s out of the way.)

i tried to figure out from your blog where you are in the show, but i can’t find anything more detailed than “probably has finished in the shadow of two gunmen”, so i’m just gonna keep things anti-spoilers. there are some really, really cool plot developments in tww, and i don’t recommend you spoil yourself for things on purpose! but also like. i DEFINITELY spoil things for myself all the time. so what the hell, don’t listen to me lol.

(i tried to put this under a cut, but tumblr glitched. sorry, peeps who don’t care about the west wing. also, WATCH THE WEST WING.)

my ALL TIME, dearest headcanon is adhd josh. i just. i love my boy so much. i love my impulsive, ridiculously-sensitive-to-perceived-rejection, loud, hyperfixated boy so much. i don’t know everything about adhd, but from what i know josh is TEXTBOOK. or at least he’s a lot like me! and i’m reasonably sure i have adhd. so. i’m REALLY, REALLY into that headcanon and everything about it. (i actually wrote a fic in which i wrote him the way i see his adhd presenting, because i love him so much. hmm, i should write a fic about josh being adhd. what kind of stims would josh like??)

i love and adore josh/donna, like many many other people. i like zoey/charlie, just because i think they make each other happy and both of them deserve that. i... like cj/danny? sorta? i think they’re adorable, and they have some REALLY good moments (no spoilers but. oh my god. danny really out here chugging his respect women juice and i love him for it). but also i am EXTREMELY ATTACHED to cj/toby and more specifically cj/toby/andy.

HEAR ME OUT. cj has EXTREME wlw energy and cj and toby have A LOT of married energy but then toby and andy... love each other so much, it’s so clear, in literally everything they do, i don’t know if you’ve gotten to the end of s5 yet but i cry. so like?? obviously, because i am who i am, polyamory is the answer! basically the rundown is: andy and toby are a typical couple except that they fight a lot. cj is kinda in the middle. if gay marriage had been legal / socially acceptable in the 80s (because god knows this ot3 has been thinking about optics since they graduated college), cj and andy would’ve gotten married and toby would’ve come and gone depending on who he’d pissed off recently, and everything would’ve been perfect. instead, andy and toby got married and it didn’t work because they really just couldn’t function as a unit, especially since their getting married meant that cj isolated herself a bit more. definitely cj and toby have a couple of SCREAMING arguments about the whole relationship. idk.

but just like. imagine with me, if you will, cj and toby... not dating, while working in the white house, but being exes. friendly exes. friendly exes who are still in love with each other and know it. please imagine that and then think about “i love you desperately / i know” and “you wanna make out with me right now, don’t you? / well, when don’t i?” and “we had it good there for a while / yeah, we did” and then join me in the pit of sadness.

(sidenote i have a sense8 au for the west wing and the second story is just me being emotional about their cluster for 5k. i have another story vaguely planned that i’ll probably never write about the development of the ot3 and about their cluster and how it functions. but don’t read that story until you finish... the first half of s7? or thereabouts? actually probably you should finish the show before you read the sense8 au in general if you’re avoiding spoilers.)

(when i say “i’ll probably never write”, i mean “until the next time i get obsessed with the west wing”. which will probably be years from now. oh, well, we can all hope the muse actually does something efficient for once.)

so yeah. those are my ships. i know a lot of people shipped josh/sam, but i don’t really see it? sam always seemed Way Too Straight for that to work lol, although i DO like the idea of sam pining tragically for josh for years just like donna does. (can you tell i read such a winter’s day a few days ago? it’s amazing. i haven’t left a review yet because i have not been a human being recently, but go read it!! it’s awesome!!)

also, i love the idea of bartlet/abbey/leo, although i can’t really visualize it lol. but there’s some amazing fic for them out there. maybe one day my stupid brain will realize the angst potential and actually let me write something for them, hopefully within the sense8 au. (sam also has a cluster! and i would love to write about them! .....but my brain doesn’t do what i tell it to. ever.)

my favorite arc.... i don’t know. i really loved the early seasons, which were a little more episodic, but ALSO i actually really liked the tone after aaron sorkin left after s4? it takes some getting used to, but it’s WAY more emotional, and i am ALL HERE FOR THAT. i definitely have a least favoite arc, or at least a least-favorite way-that-they-handled-a-storyline (spoiler alert: i hated how they handled the end of bartlet’s presidency in the white house. like. SHE’S ALL ALONE IN THERE- anyways. trying not to give detailed spoilers!)

favorite episodes: hmm. i love the thanksgiving episodes. i loved any episode with the ainsley-and-sam dynamic. noel is a phenomenal episode. 26 could make anyone weep. the flashbacks are the best. the fucking- the fucking what’s next motif.

honestly, probably i’d have to say my favorite episode is either 4x20 (evidence of things not seen, for “stupidly noble cluster” reasons and cj/toby reasons and bartlet & charlie reasons. also i feel like there’s some good josh/donna there too but i can’t remember exactly?) or 7x21 (institutional memory, because i’m pretty sure the writers reached into my id and pulled out EXACTLY what i needed from them to be okay with the show ending. jesus CHRIST i have never felt so satisfied after an episode. literally everything i ever could have wanted happened in that episode. i’m STILL reeling. it’s a perfect episode.)

my favorite characters are... literally everyone? i know that’s cheating but i love them all SO MUCH (except mandy and amy, of course). josh is my favorite, always and forever, but i love cj more than words and sometimes i can’t breathe for love of toby. leo and bartlet and charlie and sam and donna- here i was thinking i was gonna resent will forever but i LOVE will. ainsley is an amazing woman. abbey is such a good character, god, talk about a flawed woman who’s allowed to be a good person.

AND THEN THEY MADE ME ROOT FOR A REPUBLICAN. again, i doubt you’ve gotten to s7, but the republican nominee in the last election... jesus christ. i love that man so much. arguably, i’m very biased, but also how D A R E they expect me to root against him. how DARE.

(i swear this will make more sense once you meet him. i just love the actor a lot, okay?)

anyways. this got ridiculously long. i would LOVE to talk about the west wing with you, feel free to reblog this with your own thoughts or tag me in your own post or message me or something. i would love to hear your reactions!! it’s such a good show, and such a smart show, and every character is so mcfreaking good at what they do and i adore it. enjoy the ride because there’s nothing as perfect and as quality as the west wing. if you’ll please excuse me, i’m going to go cry about 7x21 again.

[ckret2]

How would the humans react to two genius titans? Especially Ghidorah’s music box?

Anonymous said: How would the humans react to two genius titans? Especially Ghidorah’s music box?

Anonymous said: I imagine that Monarch is just losing their minds over Rodan’s globe while Xochitl is cackling like the feral scientist she is.

GOD y’all got me monologuing about research and headshipping when I meant to post this fic I wrote today for these asks, I almost forgot to post before I went to bed.

Here, I haven’t thought of a title yet.

###

“I’m telling you,” Arturo said excitedly, looking up from the screen he was monitoring. “Ghidorah’s making a radio. I did one of those make-an-AM-radio kits as a kid? He’s making the, the wire coil and everything.”

Nobody was listening to him. Everyone else in the Outpost 56-B trailer was crowded around Xochitl’s computer, watching Rodan sculpt a world globe. Big deal. They’d already figured out he was sculpting a globe. That was last hour’s news. The new mind-blowing titan activity was making a radio.

Nobody cared.

“How’s he doing that? How's—what’s the melting point of glass?”

“I’m looking it up, it’s like fifteen hundred degrees? We’ve measured the Nest at twelve hundred degrees, right?”

“No, no, that's—that’s window glass. Pure sand is even worse, it’s like seventeen hundred degrees. How’s he making up the difference?”

“I bet he’s breathing fire. I bet he’s got, like, flamethrower breath—”

“Guys.” Arturo leaned back, gesturing at his screen. “Radio.”

Dante waved him off. “Man, he’s wrapping wire around a tree, that doesn’t prove anything.”

“He’s got two speakers!”

“He’s not doing anything with them.”

Arturo threw his hands up and turned back to his computer.

The door banged open and the Dr. Zareen Jangir hurried into the trailer, dragging a luggage bag still bearing international travel tags. The Dr. Jangir had transferred from Antarctic Outpost 32 to Isla de Mara after Ghidorah’s awakening, gone back to 32-B while Rodan and Ghidorah had been visiting, and only just today finally returned to Isla de Mara. “Hey.” She tossed her luggage in one corner. “What’s going on?” (She asked the same question every time she arrived; she wasn’t terribly fluent in Spanish yet. They let her get away with English sometimes, but only because she was trying.)

Two different people answered, “Rodan’s making a globe!”

The Dr. Jangir had transferred from Antarctic Outpost 32 to Isla de Mara to 32-B to Isla de Mara again for one reason and one reason alone. That reason was not Rodan. “What else is going on?”

Arturo had an ally. “Ghidorah’s making a radio!”

“No way.” She pulled a folding chair out of the stack by the wall and sat next to Arturo, already enthralled.

###

“It’s gonna be a geography lesson,” Xochitl said breathlessly. “I knew it. We’re going to learn place names.”

By now, there were eleven people crammed into the trailer—all five of the full-time Monarch 56-B employees currently on Isla de Mara and another six of the part-timers who’d come in just to for the show—all watching fascinated as Ghidorah inspected Rodan’s handiwork. Xochitl gestured vaguely with one hand to catch the others’ attention and pointed at the screen. “Can we—can we get a drone up there? I want to see what Rodan’s pointing at when he starts giving names. If we keep the drone far enough—”

She cut off as Ghidorah claimed the globe from Rodan, bunted his forehead, and retreated down the volcano to inspect his new prize. Half of the crowd in the trailer—which was by and large made up of the kind of people who worked for Monarch because at one time they’d watched Jurassic Park and felt overwhelming affection for the T-rex—cooed, “Aww.” Zareen popped open a window and leaned out to look up at Ghidorah, who had settled down hardly the length of a soccer field away from 56-B’s trailers.

“Just for the record,” Xochitl said, tapping her headphones, “that word we took a vote on and we’re like, eighty percent sure it means something like ‘love’ or ‘like’ or 'fuck’? Ghidorah used it to describe the globe.”

There were another couple of odd coos. Dante muttered, “I really hope it doesn’t mean 'fuck.’”

“This is absolutely going on Twitter.” Arturo opened a second screen next to his live feeds of Ghidorah and started scrolling through their collected footage, looking for a good shot of the bunt.

The crowd gathered around the other computer started chattering excitedly. “Hey, you know what would drive HQ crazy? If we make a big fuss about the gift giving but don’t even mention that Rodan made a globe. Just use a shot where it’s obvious what it is but don’t say anything about it.”

“Hah! God, just go 'apparently Ghidorah’s impressed by Rodan’s glassblowing technique,’ like we already knew Rodan could—”

“They’ll send us fifty emails going 'Rodan's what?!’”

“Do you think they can send us a scanner? Like a 3D scanner? I wanna compare his globe to the real Earth for accuracy.”

“Did you see it’s got Hawaii wrong? It’s missing the big island. How old is the big island?”

“HQ probably already knows about the globe, someone else on the island’s probably taken a picture and put it online by now—”

“Yeah but—will they know it’s a globe? Will the details show up on a phone camera?”

“I mean it’s fifty meters across—”

“—would be blowing up our phones by now if they already knew—”

The trailer fell silent as a burst of static came through their tinny speakers and the open window. After a moment, the noise resolved into, of all the improbable sounds, “Nada Nuevo” by Christian Nodal.

Arturo was on his feet. “Yeah! RADIO! I knew it! I told you!” He high fived Zareen.

And then the rest of the trailer was screaming and grabbing each other. They were still trying to shout simultaneously about the implications of Ghidorah building a radio when Rodan came down the volcano to join him. Someone shouted over the din, “Hold on, hold on! What are they saying to each other?”

“Ghidorah’s asking if Rodan understands the music,” Zareen said, still leaning half out the window. “Rodan says no.”

Xochitl applauded. “You’re keeping up with your language lessons!”

“I barely get any of it. 'Do you understand’ is just the most common question Rodan asks.”

“I know that station, they’re listening to 1050 AM,” Arturo announced, listening to the station identification bumper as it switched from music to commercials. “I didn’t know they were still going. When’s the last time any of you listened to AM radio?”

“Can you believe it?” Zareen asked, in that The-Dr.-Jangir-Is-Talking-About-Ghidorah voice that they were all beginning to recognize. “He can make electronics. He knew about radios. He didn’t learn that here.”

“Fuck, right, are there aliens with radio?” Dante asked. “There must be, right? You guys ever stop and think about how Ghidorah proves that there’s actual alien life out there? Like, we’ve made contact with extraterrestrial life. And it tried to kill us, but—still. We’re so busy going 'Oh, that’s a titan,’ but no, he’s an alien—”

“And how advanced is he?” Zareen asked. “If he makes radios, what else is he capable of? Has he worked with computers? Alien computers?”

Xochitl waved to get the trailer’s attention again. “Guys, guys look—” Everyone huddled around the various screens with camera feeds. Zareen leaned outside to watch them up close again.

The radio had switched back from commercials to music. Crackling through the speaker was the waltz-time accordion line of an Intocable song.

Rodan had started headbanging along with it.

The entire trailer cheered.

###

(Replies/reblogs are welcome! Check the “source” link below for my masterlist of fics in this KOTM verse, as well as my AO3 and Ko-fi links.)

[canumoveurseatup-no]

Survive- Where it all Started

summary: no one knows how it began, all they know is that it’s here.

pairings: tony x OC!daughter; later on tony x black!reader

warnings: familial death, zombies, blood, guns.

a/n: i’m excited for this series, i hope i do it justice. keep in mind though, if you’ve ever seen/ played TLOU, not everything will be the exact same. please like and reblog! If you want to be tagged, let me know!

————

“Steve! Steve listen to me, he’s- he’s the contractor okay? I can’t lose this job,”

Sarah stirred in her sleep on the couch, she had fallen asleep waiting for her dad to get home- she always stayed up, just to make sure he made it home safe

“I understand- let’s talk about it in the morning, okay? Alright... goodnight”

Sarah yawned, sitting up on the couch, noticing her dad was on the phone.

“Hey,”

“Scoot,” Tony grunts, moving his hand for her to move over so he could finally rest his feet after being on them all day.

“Fun day at work, huh?,” Sarah curls up on the couch, making conversation, this was the only time she could really talk to him as he had early mornings and late nights.

Tony sighs, running a hand over his face, “What are you still doing up? It’s late,”

Sarah gasps, “Oh crud, what time is it?!,” she turns quickly to look up at the close on the wall

Tony hated for Sarah to wait up for him, she was young, she needed all the sleep she could get.

“It’s way past your bed time,”

“But it’s still today,” she shakes her head in a teasing manner. She crawls off the couch and reaches under it to grab something but Tony thinks she just wants to joke and play around.

“Honey, please not right now. I do not have the energy for this,” Tony was exhausted. This job was killing him, but it paid well and kept him and his daughter fed with a good home. Sarah hands him a box and he looks at her as if she grew two heads.

“What’s this?,”

“Your birthday,” is all she says. Tony opens the box and is surprised by what’s inside. A watch, a brand new on at that.

“You were complaining that your other one was broken, so I figured.... ya know,” Sarah was nervous, she was always nervous about getting people presents, afraid they wouldn’t like them.

Tony immediately takes it out the box and puts it on.

“Ya like it?,” she wore a big smile on her face, absolutely hopeful.

Tony stares at the watch and frowns, “H-honey this is...,” he holds it up to his ear

“What?,” her smile dropped and she leaned in to see what was wrong

“It’s nice but I- I think it’s stuck... it’s not..,”

“What?,” her eyes go wide and she snatched his wrist to look at the watch, “No no no no,”

She stops and realizes the watch is working just fine, she pushes his arm away and rolls her eyes, sitting back in her spot, “Oh, ha haa,”

Tony laughs to himself and shakes his head, “Where did you get the money for this?,

She lies back down and shrugs, “Drugs... I sell hardcore drugs,”

“Oh good, you can start helping me with the mortgage then,” he leans forward for the remote and turns the tv on for them both to watch.

“Mtch,” she scoffs, “You wish,”

They both watch the tv for awhile until Sarah’s eyes get heavy and she’s back in a deep slumber. Tony makes sure she’s asleep all the way before picking her up and moving her to her room where she can comfortably sleep in her own bed.

“Goodnight, baby girl,” Tony plants a kiss on her head and lets her rest.

————

Sarah woke back up to the phone ringing, it’d been ringing for a while but it just now seeped its way into Sarah’s subconscious later waking her up. Trudging to the house phone she answers it to hear her frantic uncle.

“Hello?,”

“Sarah, honey. I need you to get your daddy on the phone,” he kept it short and simple.

“Uncle Steve? What time is it?,” she runs the sleep from her eyes wondering why her uncle is calling at a time like this

“I need to talk to your dad now. There’s someth-,”

Before Steve could finish, the line went dead and it left Sarah confused.

“Uncle Steve? Hello!,” she looks at the phone weird before just hanging up and putting it back on the dock.

“What was that all about?,” she mutters to herself, “Dad? Dad? You here?,” she roams the housebij search for Tony. She goes to his room expecting to find him there only to find it empty, but with the tv on, on the news.

“It appears that what we initially reported as riots seem to be somehow connected to the nationwide pandemic.,” the reporter states but Sarah has no idea what she’s talking about.

“Where the heck are you?,” talking to herself yet again, she stops to watch the report.

“We've received reports that victims afflicted with the infection show signs of increased aggression and--“

“That’s nearby,” she realizes.

A cop’s voice breaks into the feed, “We need to get everybody out of here now, there’s a gas leak,” —- “Hey, move!,”

“There’s some commotion coming from behi-,” the reporter continues speaking, not realizing the cop is talking to her.

“Get out of here!- lady, get the hell outta here right-,” An explosion. That’s what Sarah heard- not only on the tv but right out the window- she could see it right from the window.

“Uh- what was that?,” realizing she’s alone, Sarah begins to worry.

“Dad??,” she shouts, leaving his room to look throughout the house, “Dad?? What is going on?,” She wasn’t sure what to do. She heard a faint vibrating when she heads downstairs, realizing it’s Tony’s phone.

“There’s his phone,” she picks it up, “8 missed calls?,” She opens his phone to see frantic messages from her uncle.

“Where the hell are you? Call me!," — "On my way"... she reads to herself.

All she can hear is her neighbor’s dog barking and car alarms. She heads to her dad’s den and sees him rush in from the sliding glass door.

“There you are!,” she sighs in relief.

“Sarah, you okay?,”

“Yeah?”

“Has anyone come in here?,” her dad’s behaviornis throwing her off.

Tony begins to go through his drawers to look for his gun. Finding the box and taking it out to load it. Ready for anything to come.

“No? Why would anyone come in here?,”

“Don’t go near the doors! J-just stay back there,”

“Dad, you’re kind of freaking me out,” Sarah’s voice begins to tremble- what the hell is going on? Why is everyone so frantic?

“It’s the Coopers. S-Something isn’t right with them. I think they’re sick,”

But why would them being sick warrant a gun?

“What kind of sick?,”

Before Tony can answer his daughter, Jimmy Cooper bangs on the door, startling the two.

“Jesus!,”

“Dad?,”

“Jimmy!,”

Sarah hears the clicks of her dad’s gun. Something isn’t right.

“Honey, c’mere, c’mere,” Tony puts Sarah behind him.

“It’s okay,” she whispers to herself.

Jimmy keeps banging on the glass door until the glass gives and he runs inside. Her dad was right, he was sick. But what kind of sickness could cause him to act like this?

“J-Jimmy just stay back! Jimmy I’m warning you!!,”

“Oh my God,” Sarah backs further away.

Jimmy begins to run toward Tony and Tony shoots him, he had not other choice.

“Oh God!,” Sarah screams.

“Go. Go!!,”

Tony has to drag Sarah away from the scene.

“Y-you shot him,” tears welled in her eyes. She couldn’t comprehend anything right now. She has no idea what the hell was going on. She was scared, beyond scared.

“Sarah,”

“I just saw him this morning!,”

“Listen to me. Something bad is going on,” he hold her shoulders so she can pay attention to him, “We have got to get out of here. Do you understand me?,”

Sarah didn’t argue, she didn’t fight it. Whatever was happening she wanted to get away from it... now.

“Yeah,”

Tony notices headlights as a car pulls into his driveway.

“Steve,” whispering to himself, “C’mon honey,”

They rush outside and Steve gets out, “Where the hell have you been? You have any idea what’s going on out there?,”

He rushes to get Sarah in the car, “I got some notion. C’mon baby, get in the car,”

Sarah was trembling. Safety. That’s all she wanted.

“Holy shit, you got blood all over you,” Steve points out.

“It’s not mine,” Tony grunts, “Lets just get outta here,”

Steve gets back in the truck, “They're saying half the people in the city have lost their minds.”

Tony didn’t want to hear it. He just wanted to get out of there, “Can we just please go?,”

Steve wouldn’t shut up, he wouldn’t just shut up, hearing what he was saying worked Sarah up even more, “Some sort of parasite or somethin'. You gonna tell me what happened?,”

“Later.”

Steve begins to pull out of the driveway, “Hey Sarah. How ya holding up, honey?,”

“I’m fine,” she swallows thickly. She wasn’t fine, she was far from fine. “Can we hear what’s on the radio?,”

“Yeah, sure thing,” Steve begins to drive away from the house but little did anyone know that they’d never see it again. Life how it was an hour ago would never be like that ever again.

Steve tried to find a steady station but it’s all just static. Tony has no signal. They were fucked.

“No cellphone. No radio. Yeah, we're doin' great” Tony scoffs.

“A minute ago the news man wouldn’t shut up,”

“Did they say where to go?,”

Steve thinks, recalling the specific details and instructions, “He said, ah... Army's puttin' up roadblocks on the highway. No gettin' into Travis County,”

“That’s means we need to get the hell out. Take 71,”

“S’where I’m headed,”

Sarah had so many questions she wasn’t sure where to start. She sees and hears a bunch of cop cars with their sirens on, speeding in the opposite direction of where they were going.

“Did they say how many are dead?,” she was curious but she wasn’t sure if she really wanted to know.

“Probably a lot,” Steve answers, “Found this one family all mangled inside their house,”

“Steve,” Tony scolds. Sarah didn’t need to hear all that right now.

“Fuck,” Tony couldn’t believe everything went to shit so fast, “How the hell did this happen?,”

Steve sighs and shrugs, foot heavy on the gas, “They got no clue. But we ain't the only town. At first they were saying it was just the South. Now they're going on about the East Coast, the West Coast... Holy hell,”

They were passing many homes and buildings that were on fire. Sarah worries if they’d make it out safely.

“Are we sick too? Like... Jimmy!,”

“No. No of course not,” Tony wasn’t sure if he was doing a good job convincing her but he couldn’t have her freaking out right now even if he was unsure.

“How do you know?,”

“They uh,” Steve needed a recovery, “They said it's just ah, people in the city. We're good,”

“Didn't Jimmy work in the city?,”

Tony couldn’t admit all her questions were making him anxious. He just wanted silence but he did what he had to do to calm her.

“That's right, he did,”

“We're fine. Trust me,” Steve reassures

“A- Alright,”

Steve notices some people on the side of the road and slows down

“Let’s see what they need,”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?,” Tony’s eyes were wide, “keep driving!,”

Tony had survival instinct. As bad as it seems you can stop for just anyone in these predicaments.

“They got a kid, Tony,”

“So do we!,”

“But we have room,” Sarah butts in

“Hey!!,” the passerby is waving their arms back and forth to get Steve to stop.

“Keep driving, Steve,”

“Heeey! Stop stop, please!!,”

Steve reluctantly kept driving and Tony is relieved that he didn’t make the stupid decision to stop.

“You haven’t seen what I seen. Someone else will come along,”

“We should have helped them,” Sarah felt bad. She wasn’t sure what she’d do if that was them in the spot of those people back there.

Steve makes it into the city, only to find a traffic jam on 71. Everyone else and their mother had the same damn idea.

“Oh this is bad,” Steve slams his hands o the steering wheel.

“Well.. we could backtrack and-,”

“Hey, what the fuck man, let’s go!!,” a man gets out of his car, yelling at those ahead of him. More of the sick people come running out of nowhere and attack him. His screams echo in Sarah’s ears but she couldn’t look away.

What is wrong with these people? What sickness, what parasite could cause this?!?! They’re tearing him apart!!

“Holy shit,” Steve swears

“oh my God,” that’s all Sarah can say. She’s seen too many things in such a short time span.

“Get away!!,”

“Turn us around, Steve. Steve!!,” Tony has to snap Steve out of it.

“Holy shit,” Steve repeats himself. The sick begin to run to the truck and Steve quickly puts it in reverse to get away. Sarah screams as the car stalls while Steve puts it back and drive and the sick bangs on the window.

“What the fuck just happened?!,” Steve shouts, “did you see that?,”

“Yes. I saw it,” Tony couldn’t find it in himself to shout about what just played out in front of his eyes. His goal was to get as far away as possible.

“Turn here, turn here,” Tony instructs. They turn onto a side street to find it flooded with people trying to run away. Everything up in flames.

“Come on people, move!,” Steve lays it down on his horn.

“What are they running from?” Sarah questions. But her question is ignored.

“Get us outta here, Steve,”

“Can’t you see I’m trying!,”

Sarah couldn’t handle their bickering. All of this was too much for her but she couldn’t bring herself to cry, not now, no.

“We can’t stop here, Steve,”

“Well I can’t fuckin’ drive through em all, Tony!,”

“Well back the hell up then,”

“They’re behind me too!!,” So many people running everywhere. So many screams. Too much noise of glass breaking and things exploding. Sarah wasn’t sure what to focus on.

“There,” Tony points, “There! There!,”

“Hold on!,” Steve warns

“Go!,”

Steve gets around the motor home that was blocking the passage.

Sarah gasps loudly as she sees an oncoming car ready to t-bone them,

“Look out!!,”

———

Sarah wakes up to the cries and grunts of the sick. Tony still knocked out in the front seat as she’s surround by broken glass

“Dad?” Sarah calls, “Hey, hey,” shaking him awake.

“What?,” he sees one of the sick, thrashing as its trapped in a car, “get back, baby. Get back, look, I’m okay,”

Tony gets himself out by stomping the windshield out. Before he can straighten himself up to get Sarah out, one of the sick attacks him and he’s doing his best to fight it off but Steve comes and bashes it’s head in

“Dad!,” Sarah calls out

“I’m here, baby,” Tony opens the door to get her out, “I’m here. C’mone gimme your hand,”

He helps her out and notices she’s limping

“What is it?,”

“My leg hurts,” she whines, trying to keep herself together but the pain in her leg was a pain she’s never felt before.

“How bad?,”

“Pretty bad,”

“Guys,” Steve gets their attention as he scopes out the area, “We’re gonna need to run,”

“Oh God,” Tony sighs, he hands his gun to Steve and picks Sarah up. It’s the only option, “Keep us, safe,”

“Hold on tight, Sarah,”

“Okay,” she buries herself into his chest, “I’m scared, dad,”

Tony couldn’t let her know he was too. He had to be strong for his babygirl. He had to get her out of there.

“Tony watch out!,”

“Sarah, keep your eyes closed, honey!,”

Whether she kept her eyes closed or not, it didn’t help the sound of the screams. Blood-curdling, terrified screams, she was experiencing a horror movie first hand. She hears more screams as yet another blast goes off

“Keep running!!,” Steve shouts over all the commotion.

“Those people are on fire, dad,” her eyes have never seen such terror before today.

“Don’t look baby, just keep looking at me,”

“Okay,”

“Over there!,”

Tony follows Steve towards an exit but see that there’s a pileup that’s preventing them from getting through.

“We’re gonna get out of this, honey. I promise,” he whispers to Sarah.

“There’s to many of them,” Steve huffs, clearly out of breath, “this way! Through the alley, go!,”

Just when they were about to turn a corner, one of the sick jumps out and tries to attack Tony, he nearly drops Sarah trying to keep it away but Steve comes and kills it with a single gunshot. The sound makes Sarah jump.

They continue to run, Sarah had no idea where but as long as it gets them away, “We’re almost there. We’re almost to safety, honey,” They get to a bar and in through the back door but more of the sick are coming and Steve has to hold em off.

“Go! Get to the highway!,” Steve shouts over the growls of the sick

“What?,”

“You got Sarah! I can outrun em,”

“Uncle Steve!!,”

“I’ll meet you there,”

Tony would bring Steve back to life just to kill him again if he didn’t make it. Tony continues to run, despite Sarah’s protests of not wanting to leave him.

“He’s gonna be alright. He’s gonna make it. We’re almost there,”

Sarah can hear the sick people getting closer, and there’s more, “they’re getting closer, dad!,”

Gunshots ring through the air and she hears no more noise of the sick. A bright light shines in their faces and they see it’s a soldier. This calms both of their nerves as they feel safe. He would lead them to safety. Right?

“Hey! We need help,” Tony steps closer only for the soldier to keep his gun raised

“Stop!,” the soldier is visibly shaking.

“Please!,” Tony begs, “It’s my daughter. I think her leg is broken,”

“Stop right there!,” the soldier was adamant.

Sarah was confused. Aren’t the soldiers there to help?

The soldier picks up his radio and Tony watches closely.

“Got a couple of civilians in the outer perimeter. Please advise.”

“Dad, what about uncle Steve?,”

“We’re gonna get you safe first and go back for him okay?,”

“Sir... there’s a little girl,”

The soldier’s tone didn’t sit well with Tony. Whoever was on the other side of that radio had no plans to save them.

“But... yes, sir”

“Listen, buddy. We’ve just been through hell. Okay we just nee-,”

The soldier cocks his gun, ready to shoot them. Tony tries to slowly back away, “Oh shit,”

He fires rounds, making Tony fall back down the hill they just came from and Sarah screams. The soldier runs after them and shines his light in Tony’s face. Barrel of the gun at point blank range.

“Please don’t!” Tony’s hands are reached out in front of his face. But before the soldier could pull the trigger, more shots sound off and he falls dead.

Steve comes out the woodwork and and runs up to them but before he can get anything out, the cries of Sarah are heard and that stops everyone in their tracks.

“Oh no,” Steve mumbles.

Tony rushing over to here and sees her holding her stomach.

“Sarah! Okay honey, move your hands, baby”

Sarah squeals in pain. It’s a seering sensation and it’s hard for her to breathe. She grabbed hold of his neck with one hand and held herself with the other.

Tony sees that she was hit. Tony feels sick to his stomach. His voice is quivering, he doesn’t know what to do. All this time he was being strong for her but now he’s scared. Actually scared.

“I know baby, I know,” he can feel his throat tightening as he tries to hold back tears.

All he can think to do is add pressure to her wound but she just screams in pain. Her sobbing is uncontrollable and she can feel her grip on what she knew as life to be loosening.

“Listen to me, I know this hurts, baby. You're gonna be okay, baby. Stay with me!,” he was losing faith. Her hiccuping and clawing at his hands made chills run down his spine, “Alright, I'm gonna pick you up. I know, baby. I know it hurts. Come on, baby, please. I know, baby. I know”

He was pleading with her and Steve could only stand there and watch. He knew his niece wasn’t going to make it but he couldn’t just say that. Steve himself had to turn away as tears welled in his eyes.

Tony looks to Steve for help when Sarah’s cries finally cease. No hiccuping, no squeals, no thrashing, nothing.

He looks back to her to see her just staring up at him, “Sarah!,” he calls for her, “Baby,” he wheezes for air as he realizes what’s happened. But he doesn’t want to believe it, “don’t do this to me baby,”

He was rocking her back and forth, he couldn’t let her go. There’s no way he’s just let her go. His voice was trembling and finally he lets himself cry. Tony was willing to give any and everything just to have her back, just to have her breathing in his arms again.

“Come on... No, no... Oh no, no, no... Please. Oh, God. Please, please, don't do this. Please, God...”

——————

well I hope y’all enjoyed the first chapter of Survive!!!

Please reblog and comment!! it means so much

Tags: @mbaku-babygirl @blackreaders-assemble @yournonlocalpoc @vozit @veryhellshdia @hisxblackxqueen @dumbchick @warmchick @unicornslothfish @homeorbust @babybubastis @blackmissfrizzle @retroxvailles @spideys-wife @xye-weirdo @here-for-your-bullshit @valynsia @valkyriesnymph @chonisberonica @crawlingnightmares @valentinevirgo @hail-meezus @pastelastronomy24

[marmolady]

Things That Go Bump in the Night

Book/Series: Endless Summer

Main Pairings: Estela x MC/Taylor (f)

Summary: Post-ending (Rourke ending). Set after my previous Rourke ending fics, but probably easy enough to follow without reading them first. Haunted by nightmares, vivid flashbacks of horrors of a life she once knew, Estela fears she is losing control, and Taylor may be powerless to help.

Word Count: 2563

Warnings: Bit of coarse language.

Reviews and reblogs are hugely appreciated!

Tagging: @brightpinkpeppercorn @sceptilemasterr @bbaba-yagaa@edgydepressedchoicesthot@blightarts@princessstellaris@acidsugar0@taramitch96 @sapphovonchat@strangerofbraidwood @noeschoices @kennaxval@queerchoicesblog @mrsmontoya

A heavy thump and an almost simultaneous squall of sudden and intense pain shattered the late-night stillness. The whole room leapt awake, with Taylor clutching her face, eyes watering, and yelping piteously.

“Oh god!” Estela was alert with the sudden shock, horrified in the instant realisation of what had happened. Of what she’d done. “Taylor!”

“It’s okay… it was an accident…”

“I can’t believe I… I’m sorry… god, Taylor, I’m so sorry- are you okay?”

Diego was bolt upright on the other side of the room, having almost fallen out of bed. “Wha- wha- what?” he stammered dopily.

Even as she felt herself trembling, Taylor tried to recover quickly. “It’s nothing; I’m sorry for waking you up so early.”

“Taylor, it’s not nothing!” Estela felt sick with guilt, that awful scream re-playing in her head. She flicked on the light. The side of her lover’s face was already glowing pink where she’d struck her, her eye streaming and squinting in pain. “Wait- do you have ice? Or frozen peas or… something?”

“Estela, you’re hilarious,” said Diego, slowly waking up, but still not quite sure what had happened. “What kind of students eat vegetables?”

Ignoring him, she had eyes only for Taylor. “I’ll… I’ll find something. Just s-sit down, okay?”

Once Estela had hurried away, Taylor let out a long groan.

Coming to, Diego looked at her with wide eyes, noticing the state of her face. “So… reading between the lines, and going by the way your cheek is swelling, I’m guessing your face got in the way when she was having a nightmare. For real- are you hurt?”

She winced. “It wasn’t her fault…”

“Taylor, are you hurt?”

“Of course, I’m fucking hurt! Estela’s flying fists and one’s face are not a happy combination. But it’s okay. Once I’ve stopped seeing stars, I’ll make sure she’s all right… god, the look on her face…”

The nights they’d spent together had been somewhat restless, but Estela had been finding that the closeness to Taylor had eased the memories, the flashbacks, the dreams that had her tossing and turning through the night. It would just take time to settle completely. The same had been the case for Diego when his realities collided and he accepted the truth of what the echoes were telling him. His period of transition, however emotionally turbulent, had at least presented Taylor with less of a physical hazard. And there was nothing more she could do… just to be there, steadfast and loving.

Estela returned quickly, a bundle of powdery snow wrapped in a towel in her shaking hands. She passed it to Diego as she entered the room, avoiding eye contact with both of them. Her own eyes were red and raw from furiously wiping away tears.

“Keep that over it. Should stop it from swelling too much. I’ll… I’ll go…”

“Don’t you even think about it! Come here… please. I need you.” Taylor scooted over to make the message clearer. She reached out her hand. “It hurts, but I swear, I swear I’m fine. That must have been a really bad one… are you all right, love?”

Estela couldn’t look at her. “You’ve got Diego. He’ll take care of you. I’ve gotta go… I…I’m sorry.”

“Estela, please!”

And then she was gone, leaving Taylor crying out plaintively for her to come back. “…Estela…”

 _________________________________

 Feeling nauseous from the heavy blow to her head, Taylor stumbled around the apartment. “Diego, please, just go after her!”

He caught her as she almost fell, dazed. “She said to keep this over your eye, I’m gonna go out on a limb and say you should listen…”

“We can’t just let her go-“

“Taylor, I dunno. I don’t think I should leave you on your own, and to be honest, it looked like she needed some space.” Diego held onto her stubbornly and guided her down into the couch. “Besides, you could have concussion; lie down. Actually… maybe we should get it checked out…”

“I’m fine! I don’t need to see a doctor- I need to know that Estela’s okay.”

“Okay, okay. But we stay here. Estela will come back in her own time, but I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t want you risking your health to find her. And she wouldn’t want me to leave you knowing that you could take a bad turn. Just trust me, okay?”

Dammit, he’s right. Taylor leant back into the couch cushions, and her dizziness eased a little. She reached for Diego’s hand as tears formed in her eyes. “…Diego…”

“I’m here…” he murmured, and squeezed her hand. To his relief, she seemed to settle, even though worry remained evident in her face.

Taylor felt sleepy… immensely sleepy. Her head throbbed. When she cried, the tears stung her battered face. But worse than that, she was isolated from Estela. She couldn’t stand it. The woman she loved was hurting, and vulnerable, and out of reach. “I’m scared for her. I can’t even reach her -she didn’t even take her phone with her.” She breathed out, but she couldn’t stop herself from crying. “What Rourke’s done… it’s different for Estela. Most of us have had little details in our lives changed, nothing major on a personal level. But she’s had so much of her life twisted or erased; he rewrote it to get a hold over her mom. Now she can remember both lifetimes… and sometimes I think it’s tearing her apart. I just wanna make it all better… make her stop hurting… but if she’s away from me it’s worse. She said so. She needs me, Diego… but I don’t even know where she is…”

Diego could only gently hold his beloved friend, rubbing her arm until her whimpering cries slowed, then faded to silence as exhaustion finally sent her to sleep.

Awakened by daylight streaming through the blinds, Taylor sat bolt upright, dizzying herself in an instant.

Ouch.

Once she’d stopped seeing stars, she glanced around the room. Estela hadn’t returned- where the fuck was she?

Zahra spoke from the kitchen, coffee in hand. “So, uh, I’ve been given instructions to keep you lying down and out of trouble or whatever…”

“Did Estela come back?” Taylor asked, holding her aching head in her hand.

“If she did, it was next-level ninja even by her standards.”

More carefully, Taylor got to her feet. This had been too long. “I’m going to find her- she was so upset. I can’t just stay here.”

“Eh, go ahead. I’m pretty sure Diego’s not paying me for this babysitting gig.”

The Hartfeld campus was white with snow, and the busyness of springtime had given way to small groups huddled together in doorways, sheltering from the bitter chill. Even rugged up as she was, Taylor felt the cold. Surely, she thought -she hoped-, Estela, dressed only in a shirt and track pants, would have found somewhere warm to hide away. And so, Taylor made the rounds of every lecture theatre, every coffee house, the library, the bars, the study halls…

“Taylor?”

It was Grace. Even preoccupied by studying, she couldn’t help but notice the frantic searching of a… not really a friend, more of a casual acquaintance. Taylor had paced the length of the study hall some five times, with each visit looking increasingly distressed… and wobbly on her feet. Instinctively, Grace pulled out a chair.

“Are you feeling ill? Come here and sit down.”

Taylor pulled away. To be perfectly honest, she was feeling extremely nauseous, her head was spinning, and she was on the very brink of bursting into tears.  “I can’t, I… Grace, you haven’t… you haven’t seen Estela, have you? You know, my girlfriend…”

“Sorry, I haven’t,” Grace said, her brow furrowed. She reached out, seeing the rising bruise on Taylor’s eye. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” she replied, too quickly. “Just… don’t let me distract you. I know you’re under a lot of pressure.”

“Tayl-“

“I’ve gotta go.”

Taylor retreated back into the frigid air, tears hot against her cheeks. It had been a long time now; worry was steadily growing into panic. She began to hyperventilate, and had to run to a trashcan to throw up. Shaking and afraid, she didn’t know where else to turn. Then, she turned a corner and there, shivering in the sparse shelter provided by a bare tree…

“Estela!”

Taylor bolted forwards and flung her arms around her wife. God, she was freezing cold. Relief became anger, and she gave Estela a forceful shove. “What. The Hell?”

Estela hunched into herself, looking smaller than Taylor could remember ever seeing her. It only made Taylor more furious.

“Where have you been? I’ve been looking everywhere for you…”

“Taylor, I’m sorry…”

Taking a fistful of Estela’s shirt, Taylor pushed into her chest, trying to ignore the tears that were streaming down her face. “I know you’re fucking scared, but I’m scared too! I need you, I…” And she could no longer hold back the sobs.

Estela held her, feeling the sting of her own tears. She’d sworn she’d never hurt her Taylor… her Taylor… Jesus, this was all like a waking nightmare…

“Taylor… I’ve got you now…” Her voice became muffled as she pressed desperate kisses to her wife’s forehead. “I’m here… I’m so fucking sorry. For everything…”

They fell down together into the snow. Huddled almost impossibly close, they cried into one another’s heaving bodies, until no more tears would come.

“You shouldn’t be walking around with that head injury. You shouldn’t be alone.”

“You didn’t leave me much choice! I’m not going back to the apartment without you.”

Taylor hiccoughed and wiped her face with a sleeve, wincing as she did so. Once more, she saw shame flash across Estela’s stricken face, and it hurt more than the injury itself.

“Hey…” she whispered, as she draped her scarf around her wife’s shivering shoulders. “None of this is your fault. And it’s just, it’s just a little bump. It’s nothing. We’ll laugh about this. Not, like, right now, because smiling hurts, but we will.”

Her shoulders slumped, Estela looked down. How could she ever laugh about this? The last person she’d ever want to hurt…

“Estela… please don’t pull away from me over this. Compared to how it feels to be apart from you…” Taylor shuddered and found herself crying again. “I just… I can’t do this without you. I just can’t.”

Estela finally met her eye, her hands reaching to cradle Taylor’s poor bruised face, to delicately stroke away those tears. She traced the trail of her fingertips with the lightest of kisses, until her wife’s ragged breathing soothed.

“It was Lila,” she said, simply. “Really fun flashback.”

“Oh.” Even as it physically hurt her to do so, Taylor kissed Estela again and again; her cheeks, her nose, her forehead, letting the action speak for itself. It was small wonder she’d been tossing and turning so violently.

“I’m scared.” Estela spoke shakily. “It’s all just so, so… Fuck! This could all fall apart any goddamn moment. I don’t know if there’s a way out of this. We could win, we could take Rourke down, and I could still lose everything. Lose you. I’ve almost got my head around the fact that I can’t save my mom- the mom who’s real to me was murdered when I was fifteen. But you? I won’t let you be collateral damage, Taylor. When I heard you scream like that… god, it just scared the shit out of me. I can’t bear to be someone who’s capable of hurting you.”  

Taylor delicately tipped Estela’s face towards hers, exchanging a look of tenderness and caring, and then their lips met, soft and sweet. She savoured the taste, the feel of that caress… otherworldly in its euphoric beauty. It was just… love.

“And I can’t bear to be apart from you. It’s… hard to put into words. How much I need you. I know you don’t want me to suffer with you, but it’s what I’m here for. Any burden on your shoulders is mine to carry too. I wouldn’t want it any other way. My love…” She kissed her again, urging her to feel that they were safe in their togetherness. “I believe in us. You’re better with me, I’m better with you. That’s all there is to it.”

 ___________________________________

The apartment, toasty and warm, felt heavenly as Taylor and Estela came through the door in one another’s arms. Taylor let herself be eased down into the couch, propped up against the pillows with gentle, freezing cold hands.

“Love, you’re so cold; you shouldn’t have been out in the snow without more layers on…” She kissed Estela some more, until her wife pulled away.

“Take it easy…” Estela grumbled. Even through her frown, affection was clear in her eyes. “I’m trying to keep it iced and you’re moving all over the place. Rest. No laughing. No kissing.”

“All right, now you’re being mean. If you won’t let me do it, can you at least kiss me?”

She hmphed, but moved in to delicately place a kiss on Taylor’s lips. “Now lie down. You get some more sleep, and I’ll just… uh…” Estela felt her cheeks flush as the feeling of guilt came rushing back.

“You’ll sleep with me. If it happens again, we’ll… I dunno, cover my head in bubble wrap or something. We’re in this together.”

With Taylor comfortable on the couch, Estela brought over a pile of blankets and hooked up the TV screen to her laptop so they could watch the day’s lectures after their nap. She twiddled with her phone for a moment before cuddling up to her wife.

“I sent Diego a message,” she said, “see if he wants to join us for a duvet day. Actually, I sent one to Zahra as well… but she’ll reply when hell freezes over.” Cautiously, she put an arm around Taylor, painfully aware that it was those very hands that had battered her so. But Taylor purred with delight at her touch, making quite sure that Estela knew that she needed her. Right there. Holding her… loving her. Slowly, the tension left Estela’s muscles, and she melted into her wife’s tender embrace. All at once, her lack of sleep caught up with her, tiredness crashing down upon her like a wave.

Taylor poked Estela in the ribs. “One more kiss? Pretty please?” She puckered her lips a little. “Don’t make me chase you for it; I might hurt myself.”

“So pushy…” came the low, growling reply. Estela pushed herself up, and slowly, delicately, she caressed Taylor’s lips with her own. When she came away, the look on her love’s face was painfully beautiful… sheer devotion. That wonderful, brave person who adored her so… Estela couldn’t promise her that she’d never hurt her again. The storm raging inside her, the one Rourke had inflicted, it might just consume them both. Taylor must have seen the shadows of fear and doubt cross her dark eyes, for she whispered-

“No matter what anyone or anything throws at us, you belong right here in my arms. I love you, Estela.”

And it was just enough. Estela sank back so that her head was nuzzled against her beloved’s chest, their arms wrapped around one another once more. She closed her eyes. This was one thing she’d never let Rourke burn.

“I love you, Taylor.”

[wewillwriteyou]

Friends Will Be Friends || Chapter 3

A few elements from the main plot: A very special group of friends: early days, drama, laughter, booze, success, rock stars life, girl power, friendship, love, sex, music, misunderstandings, some more drama, family. Pairings in the tags

Summary Chapter 3: Saturday morning from the girls’ (Melissa and Chelsea) point of view.

Word count: 2.1K

Warnings: lil hint of sexual tension (Blink and you’ll miss it)

A/N: Chapter 3 is finally here! We’d like to thank some lovely lovely people who expressed their support to our story 💕 we love you guys and we hope you’ll like this as well. If you’re new to the story, you find the link to the previous chapters at the beginning of this post. As usual, if you like what you read, comment, like, reblog and share this with others! Thanks again for the support, enjoy! 💗

When the alarm went off, Mel grumbled something under her breath and gathered all her forces to set it off. She hadn’t slept that much and knew the day was gonna be a long stressful one.

When she got out of bed she realized the house was completely silent. Weird, she thought. It was Saturday and Roger and Brian were not up yet, but most importantly: no giggles.

She could feel something was going on but she was too tired to bother, so she started getting ready for work. As she opened the closet to choose her outfit, she came across the clothes she was wearing the night before, scrambled in a corner and flashes from came running back to her mind: she could not help but smile.

John had grabbed her hand and had dragged her on the dance floor. They had danced casually for a few songs, laughing when the beat sped up and trying to keep up with the rhythm: he was an amazing dancer. When the band started playing a slow song John grabbed Mel’s hand and pulled her close, hands carefully resting on her waist. He wasn’t usually that bold, but something in that girl was screaming hold on to me and don’t let me go.

“Are you ever gonna tell me your name?” he said hiding a smile.

The girl chuckled and put her hands on his shoulders so that they could be even closer.

“Melissa” she looked up at him, smiling “but everyone calls me Mel”

“That’s a beautiful name, Melissa” God, he could not stop smiling.

She loved how he said it “Now your turn”

“John” he replied, still smiling.

John took a moment to acknowledge how perfect she looked in the shallow light of the bar: her hair was a little messy, because of all the dancing, and her eyes sparkled with excitement as they swayed through the dance floor. They had only seen each other two times and yet he felt like he had known her for a lifetime: it was amazing how they had just clicked.

And Mel had never felt that way around someone. Every time she met a guy she always analyzed the situation in detail before committing to something. Maybe that was why she had never let anyone come that close: there was always a ‘but’. The thing was: with John, everything made perfect sense, even if they did not know a thing about each other. They had just clicked.

And that’s why after staring in each other’s eyes for a few seconds, they both leaned in for a kiss: it was gentle at first but as they dove into it, it started heating up and a pleasant warmth spread among their bodies.

They hadn’t realized the band had played at least two more songs, while they were lost in each other’s eyes. Freddie was thanking the audience, as the other band members had begun packing their instruments.

“Hey Mel, you want a ride home?” Mel pulled back, flushing in embarrassment as she saw Brian appearing in her sight. He looked amused.

“Uhm no thanks I’m good” she smiled quickly, mouthing him to piss off.

“Okay, see you at home” he said winking at her and giving John a pat on the back.

John was grinning at how embarrassed Mel looked and when she realized it, she lightly smacked his shoulder, giggling herself.

John walked her home and for the first time, they learned some details about the other’s life. John was from Leicestershire and he moved to London to study electrical engineering at the Chelsea College. She told him she studied physics and that she left Cornwall to move in with her brother as soon as she started uni. While walking she scribbled her number on a piece of paper she had in her purse and gave it to him “We might not be lucky enough to casually meet a third time” she said grinning at him.

When they arrived at her building, Mel wished she lived twenty more blocks down the road so that they could keep talking.

“I guess that this is where we part” she said shyly looking up at him.

He smiled and leaned closer to kiss her one more time, before forcing himself to let her go inside and head home.

Mel was still floating in those thoughts, while sipping her coffee and smiling, when someone snapped their fingers in front of her, waking her from her daydreaming.

“Well do you look pleased,” Brian said, reaching for the coffeepot “I knew you liked dancing along to our songs, but who knew you loved them that much.”

She scoffed “You know what? Normally your sarcastic comments would annoy me but I’m such in a good mood that I won’t let them bother me”

“Oh God I’m losing my powers” he replied bringing a hand to his chest acting shocked

She laughed and waved him goodbye, before heading towards the door to go to work.

The sound of a door slamming woke Chelsea, who opened her eyes lazily, still confused about what was happening. The light of the sun warmed her skin and she felt the soft material of a blanket caressing her naked legs and arms. At that moment she jumped on the bed, as her heart started pounding: she wasn’t at home… and she wasn’t even wearing her own clothes!  

She squeezed her head, trying to remember how she had ended up there; blurred memories of the night before flashed in her mind and the last thing she remembered was the lips of that blonde guy on hers. She flushed at the thought and got up, heading towards the door and silently sneaking out of the bedroom.

She walked slowly, following the hallway, while thinking about something to say to him. She stopped right in front of the kitchen, where a tall, skinny, brunette boy was reaching for the sugar in the cabinet. Chelsea felt dirty, at the thought of what she possibly could have done in the state she was: she was probably so drunk, she had ended up with him too.

“Good morning, do you want some coffee?” his voice was calm and nice, his green eyes were sincere. He squared her body and she tried to cover herself, realizing she was only wearing a long, grey t-shirt that barely covered her butt.

“You can consider yourself lucky. That’s Roger’s favorite shirt, he doesn’t usually share it with the girls he takes home for a one-night stand” he said to Chelsea, as he walked towards the sofa. He sat down and stretched his legs on the coffee table, while with his long fingers he started to flip through the pages of a newspaper.

Chelsea was so confused and instantly turned around, hearing the noise of a door opening. The blonde guy of the night before came out of the bathroom and approached her with a flirty smile.

“Good morning, honey, did you sleep well?” he asked, putting his hand on her lower back. Chelsea followed him with her eyes, as he headed to the fridge. She cleared her throat and finally found the courage to speak.

“I–I don’t remember much… anything, actually… and I’m quite scared at the moment” her voice cracked, as she gazed both of the boys that were now watching her. The brunette stood up and, putting his long arm behind her shoulder, he whispered in her ear that everything was okay. The blonde guy quickly reached them both and pushed his friend away, taking Chelsea’s hands into his.

“Hey, don’t worry hon’. Nothing happened. You’re just a little confused, but I’m sure you’ll clear your mind in a few moments” his voice was low and his blue eyes calmed her down. Chelsea studied his face and noticed that he was even more beautiful than the night before, now that his hair was brushed and he wasn’t all sweaty. She nodded and slowly walked away, headed to the bedroom.

“I think it’s better for me to go” she said, hoping he would not follow her, but realized she was wrong when she heard the door closing behind her back. She searched for her clothes under the bed and heard him laugh. She turned around, with an angry look on her face. Now that the fear had disappeared, she could feel anger growing in her chest.

“Give me my clothes, Robert”

“I’m Roger” he chuckled, visibly entertained by her attitude. She rolled her eyes.

“Robert, Roger, it’s the same! I asked you where my clothes are!” she sat on the bed, knowing that her knees were shaking because of the mix of emotions she was feeling in that moment. Roger leaned his back against the closed door and looked down at her, always with a grin on his face.

“They’re in the washing machine” he finally replied. Chelsea raised an eyebrow.

“Why?” his cocky smile was driving her mad. She sighed loudly “Please, tell me what happened because I swear to God: I can’t remember anything!” she let out a heavy breath, almost begging him to tell her the truth.

“Fine. You agreed to come home with me to shag, but you were completely wasted, so, being the gentlemen that I am, I refused to have sex with you. You were begging me and, in the exact same moment as you entered the bedroom and sat on the bed, exactly where you are right now, you threw up all over your clothes. I had to undress you, wash them and, while you were mumbling something in the hot bathtub, I had to clean the floor. Then, I helped you dress up again and gave you one of my shirts, my favorite one by the way, and the rest it’s history” Chelsea was left without words, as she felt more and more sucked into a vortex of embarrassment.

“I’m terribly sorry for that… I’m not that kind of girl”

“Don’t worry, I’ve done worse. But I must admit you were pretty funny, saying non-sense things while being all clingy on me” he chuckled and Chelsea flushed.

“Please, I don’t want to live it all again” she covered her face with her hands, while Roger was laughing out loud because of her tone “at least you got to see me naked, not that it was a great view anyway” she joked.

“You’re right, it was more than great” he instantly replied. Chelsea felt an uncontrollable heat expanding in her body before she remembered it was Saturday morning and she had to go to work.

“What time is it?!” she almost shouted, as she stood up.

“It’s half past nine, why?” Roger had an interrogative face.

“Shit! I’m late for work!” Chelsea started to look around her, panicking “I need some clothes! Do you have something you can lend me?” Roger immediately approached the wardrobe and extracted a floral, black and white blouse. She nodded and took off the grey t-shirt. Roger gazed at her whole body as she stood there, in her underwear.

“Trousers? I don’t think yours will fit me!”

“Don’t worry, you can take a pair from my sister’s closet. Her room is-” Roger hadn’t even finished the sentence, that Chelsea was already running out in the hallway, entering the next room.

She took a pair of black trousers that luckily fitted her and ran out of the room, finding Roger with her purse and her jacket in his hands. She grabbed everything with one hand, while with the other she was trying to put on her shoes, jumping around. Brian tried to contain the laughter, while looking at Roger, who couldn’t help but stare at her, definitely amused by that chaotic, mysterious girl.

“Thank you for everything… I promise I’ll come back for my clothes and I will give you yours back as soon as possible” Chelsea stopped for a minute on the doormat to look one last time into Roger’s eyes “still sorry for last night… bye” she said, slamming the door and running down the stairs. Roger stood there, with his mouth open, still amazed by that tornado called Chelsea. Brian looked at him and smiled, sure he had never seen his friend looking at a girl that way.

Chapters:  ⬸ previous | next ⤑

A/N: Hi again! Hope you enjoyed this chapter 💗 we’re gonna tag the lovely people who read, liked and commented the previous chapters. If you want to be tagged in the next one, comment under this one or leave us a message. Our inboxes are always open for you beautiful people

(Temporary) Tag list: @littledarlingwellaway @its-a-metephor-brian @allthangsqueen @bohemiandelilah @onevisionliz @misshystericalqueen @loki-lover095 @deakysgurl @inthelapofthe39 @starsoflovingness-wq @minetticatinwonderland @cairdes20 @friendswillbefriendsblog @o-holynight @trash-record-collection @please-stop-me-now @theappleofmybri @marvelsbunch [if your name is crossed out, we couldn’t tag you 😢 please message us, and we’ll sort it out 😘]

PS: We found out the tagging problem is affecting a lot of Tumblr users, so, for now, we rely on you people to spread the news of our story, at least until the whole hashtag deal is sorted out by the @staff . Thanks again,

Cheers, folks! ✌💖

[greatgreengremlin]

can you put your bag things bingo fills on tumblr? it would probably be easier for requesters to see and the mods to keep track of. and, i just want to reblog your fem!hance, cause that was cute.

Actually I meant to do that, I just forgot. Oops. 

Sure I can!

(VLD) Space: Anger Born of Worry

AO3

Something Lana will never tell anyone is that during their first meeting, Huihana scared the crap out of her. Only for the first thirty seconds or so, sure, but in those thirty seconds the fear was real. She took two steps into the room the Garrison assigned her, took one look at her roommate, and felt her blood turn to ice.

That chick was freaking huge. Biceps like boulders, fists like frozen turkeys. She could probably take Lana’s head off with one punch. Nervously, Lana gulped, trying to think of something suave to say, straining to shape her mouth into a confident smirk so this Amazonian stranger wouldn’t smell her fear. Then the giantess advanced and before Lana could escape, those brawny arms encircled her, deftly lifted her right off the floor…and pulled her into a hug.

“Mmph!” Lana found herself pressed up against the soft, plentiful pudge of her roommate’s round midsection, and her face smushed into the pillows of her even softer, coconut sized breasts.

“Nice to meet you, new roomie!” chirped a voice of pure sunshine.

She gave Lana a hearty squeeze and returned her to the floor.

“So I’m Huihana, most people call me Hana for short,” she paused, amusement squiggling over her features as she blinked at Lana’s name tag. “Guess that means we’re Hana and Lana, huh? Pfft, Hana and Lana. We could totally headline a sitcom.”

“Heh, yeah.” Lana gave a chuckle, feeling herself melt in relief.

“I’ll help you put away your stuff, but let’s eat the muffins first. They’re best while they’re still warm.”

“You made muffins?”

“Uh-huh.”

Hana showed her the small oven she’d hidden in the closet. It was about the size of one of those toy ones, but Lana could tell it was made of spare parts. The metals didn’t match and the screws were different sizes.

“Let me guess, you’re here to be an engineer.”

“Yep.” Hana smiled and pulled a small muffin pan out of her makeshift oven and if the tantalizing aroma of apple cinnamon was anything to go by, mismatched metal didn’t prevent it from working.

Lana took a muffin and shook her head. Hana was a freaking teddy bear. No hecking way could she ever scare Lana again.

“You’re supposed to be in bed,” Lana scolds, crossing her arms over her chest.

Hana rolls her eyes and keeps rolling the orange dough in front of her. “As if you always do what you’re supposed to do.”

“This isn’t about me!” Lana barks, still too shaken to keep herself from snapping. “You’re a mess, you can hardly stand up!”

Hana shoots her a look that might’ve been dangerous if she were actually standing steady. But she isn’t steady at all, she’s tottering like a butterfly could knock her over and Lana isn’t sure if it’s making her nervous or furious.

“What I am is sore and stressed, and not in the mood,” she warns irritably.

“Oh, you’re not in the mood?” Lana scoffs. “Don’t even. I’m the one who gets to be mad! You almost got yourself killed!”

“We almost get ourselves killed all the time,” Hana grumbles bitterly, flipping the dough and rolling some more.

“This was different! You know we’re supposed to be extra careful since the pods got hacked, but you ran back into a Galra infested tunnel for no reason!”

“No reason my ass, I was checking for civilians.” Hana pauses to wipe the sweat from her brow.

“Civilians who weren’t there!” Lana huffs, grasping at her hair in frustration. “BLIP tech told us the tunnel was clear!”

“And like I already explained to you and everybody else, the dust storms on that planet were interfering with our tech. Our comms were screwy, our scanners were screwy, we had no reason to trust in the BLIP tech!” Hana gives the dough an exasperated whack with the rolling pin and Lana can see the immediate regret in her eyes as the movement sends repercussions through her battered body. Recoiling, she hisses through her teeth.

“Damn it! Ugh, just come off it. I clearly did the right thing.”

“How? No one was down there!”“But someone could’ve been down there,” Hana insists hotly. “We couldn’t rely on the tech to tell us one way or the other, so I checked for myself. It’s what a paladin would do.”

Lana chews her lip. She understands where her friend is coming from, but she doesn’t have any forthcoming fuzzy feelings for her decision either. It was too reckless. Lana doesn’t like to see any of her team in danger, but this was the kind of stunt she would at least expect from Keith or Shiro. Not Hana. It was a stunt that blindsided her coming from cautious, nervous Huihana.

“You should have at least called one of us for backup.”

And what she means is, you should have called me for backup.

“I didn’t think I had enough time.” Hana gripes, maneuvering her way around the kitchen. “It’s over and done with, so just lay off.”

Lana feels the worst of her fury dying away, but she still isn’t happy. This was too much, too close a call. She can’t just swallow it with a smile and pretend she wasn’t terrified to her core. Not with the echoes of Hana’s scream still rattling around like vengeful wraiths inside her head.

“Oh crap…I’m bleeding,” Hana mutters, yanking Lana out of her thoughts.

The red stain spreads through her robe and Lana gasps, scrambling over.

“Don’t want to say I told you so, but this is exactly why you should be in bed,” she says tersely, hiking Hana’s arm over her shoulder.

Hana is still the bigger of the two, but Lana is tougher than she looks and more than strong enough to offer her support. Hana accepts it wearily, and Lana becomes increasingly worried when she fails to fire back some retort. Lana studies her more closely and frowns.

Drops of sweat sprinkle Hana’s face, headband practically drenched with it. The pain is naked in her eyes, glistening with the mist of unshed tears. Her jaw tightens, teeth clenching as she fails to bite back a whine.

“Come on,” Lana encourages. “Just a little farther.”

“A little?” Hana shoots her an exhausted look. “The med bay’s on the other side of the castle.”

“But your room is right around the corner, and Coran helped me stock it with all the right aftercare supplies while you were out being a bad patient.”

“I wasn’t trying to be a bad patient,” she mumbles. “Today just caught up with me and sitting still in silence wasn’t exactly doing wonders for my anxiety.”

“Yeah, well you bleeding through your clothes isn’t exactly doing wonders for my mental health, either,” Lana retorts.

Hana must be too spent to keep arguing because all she does is glower.

When they reach her bedroom, Lana parks her down on the bed and slides the robe off her shoulders. The bandages encasing her torso are soaked scarlet and it sends chills up Lana’s spine. Even so, she tries to keep herself together. She opens the impressive supply kit Coran prepared and paws through until she finds the sutures.

“So you’re gonna patch me up even though you’re pissed?”

“Of course I am, jerk face.”

Lana gets the packet of numbing gel and the scissors, kneels down, eye level with the wound. She snips through the layers of gauze and they fall loosely to the bed. A wide absorbent pad remains, taped over her side. It’s sodden with blood that smears onto Lana’s fingertips as she removes it as gently as possibly.

What lurks beneath is like something out of a slasher flick. Lana is a tad nervous about tending to it because it’s such a gruesome injury, but she doesn’t want to admit that aloud. The blast from the sentry’s gun shaved off a good hunk of flesh. The aperture of the wound is irritated where Coran had to trim away ruined skin. The layer of fat beneath the remaining skin peeks out a bit, bumpy and glazed in blood. The open meat in the middle is this sickening, moist, melon pink.

“Congratulations,” Lana offers sarcastically. “You managed to pop all of your stitches.”

Hana grimaces. “I don’t wanna know the graphic details.”

“No,” she agrees grimly. “You don’t.”

Lana pinches the tip of the scissors over the broken thread of the old stitches and carefully pulls them through. Hana’s fist clenches into the blankets, a tight look of discomfort twisting her features.

Some of Lana’s frustration ebbs.

“This is the worst part and it’s almost over, okay?”

Hana nods tensely.

Lana removes the long, thin thread and discards it. She opens the numbing gel and carefully spreads it along the in tact skin around the wound.

“I’m sorry, okay?” she says softly. “I know I shouldn’t be mad at you, you did what you felt was right—“

“You mean what was right,” Hana breaks in stubbornly.

“…I thought you died,” Lana admits somberly.

“What?” Hana’s jaw drops.

Lana purses her lips as she opens the suture set. “It was the way you screamed. You’re super jumpy, so I’ve heard you scream a thousand times before, but never like that. That scream chilled me to the bone, I could just hear the hurt in it…and then when we started screaming back for you to answer, you didn’t. We— I was begging you to answer me but all I got was radio silence.”

“I scared you,” Hana concludes quietly.

“Yeah.” Lana huffs, poking the needle into the flesh. Evidently the gel is doing its job, because her friend doesn’t even flinch. “Scared me more than anything else ever has. You’re in front of me right now in one piece, talking to me, and I’m still kinda shook up over it.”

“Aw, Lana…”

Lana sews quietly, occasionally glancing up to make sure Hana’s tolerating it okay. She’s fiddling with her fingers, gaze pointedly fixed on the wall.

“Look, I’m sorry. Not for what I did, but for scaring you.”

“I don’t really blame you,” Lana says, finishing off the stitches. “This is war, we get hurt. But can you at least be a good patient for the rest of the day?”

“I will if you stick around to distract me.”

“I’m supposed to let you rest,” Lana mutters, distracted as she fishes through the supplies.

Hana groans quietly and shakes her head. “I can’t. You don’t think I got scared too? It’s so quiet in here, all I can do is relive getting blasted. It’s freaking me out.”

She takes another absorbent pad and thick roll of gauze, wincing sympathetically. “Alright. I’ll stay. Maybe I can get Pidge to bring us a projector so we can watch a movie or something.”

Hana lets out a sigh of relief. Lana returns to her bedside and strips the sterile packaging off the pad. She plasters it over the freshly stitched wound and gingerly pats it down. Hana gives a wince and she stops short.

“Too rough?”

“Nah. The gel wore off, that’s all. It’s sore.”

“I’ll bet.” It’s a hell of a wound, after all. Wide, deep, and butt ugly.

Lana unwinds a length of gauze and makes an effort to be especially gentle as she bandages her, starting from the bottom and moving upward. She smooths out as many of the wrinkles as she can and tries to secure the gauze around Hana’s torso without pulling too tight.

“Alright, almost there. Just hold your tits.”

“Huh? I’m not rushing you.” Hana puzzles, brow furrowing.

“I meant literally, my busty bestie,” Lana chuckles. “They’re in the way.”

“My bad.” Grimacing, Hana sheepishly hefts them up and Lana wraps the last layer around. She finishes up with small adhesive strips to keep the bandage in place and gives it the slightest of tugs to make sure they’re effective.

“All done,” she says brightly, pulling back. “That should keep it clean and safe. Just try not to bump into anything and don’t abuse the rolling pin anymore.”

“Thanks. I’d hug you if I could.” Hana sighs and slides her arms back into the sleeves of her robe. She raises her shoulders to get it all the way on— at least, she attempts to. Pain crosses her face halfway through the motion and the fabric slides back down.

“And I can’t do that either.”

She tucks her head down like a grumpy turtle sulking in its shell. Lana wordlessly pulls the garment up for her.

“Gonna do everything for me?” Hana lifts a tired brow.

“If I have to,” Lana says, crossing her arms. “As long as you promise not to scare me like that again.”

“If it were a promise I could keep, I would,” she says wistfully.

They gaze at each other a moment, an understanding passed. Lana deflates and tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear, leaning forward to pull back Hana’s blanket.

“Go on, climb in.”

“Could’ve done that much myself,” Hana mutters, sounding more weary than offended.

Lana studies her as she draws herself up, stiffly braced back on her elbows. Pain speaks in every movement, from her legs’ halting stretch, to the low breath hissed between her teeth as she carefully reclines to the pillows. Lana lightly drapes the blanket over her.

“Lemme get you something for the pain—“ Lana turns to go and stops short as Hana’s hand encircles hers.

She tugs with surprising strength for somebody who looks two seconds away from passing out, and Lana’s eyes pop wide as she gracelessly flounders to the bed.

Lacing their fingers together, Hana gives her a tender look. “This is enough. I feel better already.”

“Liar,” Lana huffs, crinkling her nose.

“No, really. Holding hands has the potential to reduce pain. Several studies suggest it produces an analgesic effect.”

Lana pauses, studying her face for any trace of deceit. Normally having genius friends is pretty cool because they can explain complicated stuff to you and help you ace your homework. But sometimes genius friends can mess with you by rewording bullshit to sound all science-y and smart. One time Hana and Pidge nearly convinced her that the moon was indeed made of some form of petrified cheese.

“For real?”

“Yeah, for real,” Hana insists, smiling gently. “When we hold hands our brainwaves begin to synchronize. It’s like communicating empathy through touch and it makes people feel better.”

“Huh.” Lana looks down at their hands and squeezes Hana’s a little tighter.

With Hana’s hand in hers, solid and warm, Lana is beginning to feel better too.

[thing-you-do-with-that-thing]

Kari’s Supernatural Halloween Challenge

Autumn is just around the corner and autumn means Halloween is near too. This challenge is all about the All Hallow’s Eve and the creepy, scary, awesome stuff that comes with it.

The prompts are all quotes from classic or silly horror movies - I listed the movie too in case you wanna draw inspiration from the plot too. You don’t have to at all. You just have to use the dialogue prompt somewhere in the fic. How is up to you. On to the more detailed rules - read carefully!

Due Date: November 9th

Word min: 500 words

Word Max: 5k words

Style: It can be a drabble, one shot or beginning of a series. Do not put in in the middle of an ongoing series since I plan on reading them and don’t want to read 10 parts of something to understand the entry.

Fandom: Just Supernatural this time. List of pairings allowed is under the cut. If you are looking for a Marvel Halloween challenge keep an eye on my sideblog @until-theend-oftheline in the new couple of days. Something will appear over there too - not the same thing though. Different.

Will you read and reblog my fic?

You betcha :D I am behind on reading for previous challenges so patience is a virtue here

Do my fic have to be Halloween themed?

Not necessarily but Bonus points if it is.

When Do I Post?

Between right now and Nov 9th. Sign Ups start now and ends when there are no more prompts

Genre: It has to have some element of angst to it since it is a Halloween challenge but it doesn’t have to be full blown everyone dies angst. It can have a fluffy end. It can have fluffy middle. It can even have smut if you are over 18.

AUs and crack are welcome too as long as you work in something angsty.

Limits on what you can write: No Mommy/daddy kinks, no non/dub con, no A/B/O, no glorification on cheating, no wife or actor hate in rpfs! - if you got any questions at any time feel free to send me an ask. - If AUs no mermaids or mobsters please.

Format: State in your A/N that it is for my (thing-you-do-with-that-thing) Kari’s Supernatural Halloween challenge. And use the # Kari’s Supernatural Halloween challenge in the first 5 tags.

Pairing and word count also have to be easy to spot in your header!

Submit: After you posted on tumblr you have to add yourself and your fic to this doc.  If you don’t do this you will not be added to the masterlist I create when the challenge is over. If you got questions - just ask :D

Doc link it case tumblr is an ass: https://docs.google.com/document/d/19Jop0Do95LVPp5z7IIshrax5_IkKBPjvwBmgcTHAXYw/edit?usp=sharing

How do I join?

You pick a prompt and a pairing off the list. Send me the prompt number along with a backup just in case and your pairing of choice. ASKS ONLY!! REPLIES, REBLOGS AND IMS WILL BE IGNORED!

There are no limits on the pairings but I only allow 2 people per prompt so think before you sign up. If you don’t think you will be doing it then don’t take the spot from someone else. One person can sign up twice but with different pairings. Prompts and Pairings are under the cut!

YOU CAN NOW HAVE AS MANY PROMPTS AS YOU WANT (NO MORE THAN 3 UNCOMPLETED ONES AT A TIME TO ENSURE YOU DON’T OVER DO IT FOR YOURSELVES. AND YOU CAN HAVE REPEAT PAIRINGS AS LONG AS THEY ARE ON THE LIST OR CLEARED BY ME!

Pairings:

No male readers - gender neutral are fine!

General Fics - character or rpf are both fine.

Sister/daughter/romantic/friendship reader pairings for following are all fine - just let me know which:

Jensen

Dean

Misha

Cas

Jared

Sam

Ships (all are allowed as poly with reader too):

Destiel

Deonna

Megstiel

Saileen

Cockles

Jensen x Danneel

Jared x Genevieve

Prompts

1 “That cold ain’t the weather. That’s death approaching.” 30 Days of Night (2007) - @oneshoeshort (Sam x Reader) /

2 “Love means never having to say you’re ugly.” The Abominable Dr. Phibes (1971)

3 “Paradise lost? Found it!” Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon (2006)

4 “Supernatural, perhaps; baloney, perhaps not.” The Black Cat (1934)

5  “They’re all gonna laugh at you.”  Carrie (1976) @percywinchester27 (Dean x Reader) /

6 “When there is no room left in hell, the dead will walk the earth.” Dawn of the Dead (1978) @kittenofsarcasm (Megstiel) /

7 “That’s my mother you’re pissing on.” Dead Alive (1992) @impala67trenchcoat (Dean x Reader) /

8 “What an excellent day for an exorcism.” The Exorcist (1973) - @blacktithe7 (Dean x Reader) / @legion1993 (Dean x Reader)

9 “I’m the guy that’s gonna save your ass.” Feast (2005) @danijimenezv (Dean x Reader) /

10 “Be afraid… Be very afraid.” The Fly (1986) @queen-of-deans-booty (Dean x Reader) /

11 “It’s Alive! It’s Alive!” Frankenstein (1931)

12 “I should warn you, princess – the first time tends to get a little messy.” Freddy vs. Jason (2003) - @jessyackles (Jensen x Reader) /

13 “I’ve seen enough horror movies to know that any weirdo wearing a mask is never friendly.” Friday the 13th Part VI: Jason Lives (1986) @sweetness47 (Dean x Reader) /

14 “Do they look like psychos? Is that what they look like? They were vampires! Psychos do not explode when sunlight hits them, I don’t give a fuck how crazy they are!” From Dusk Till Dawn (1996) @sweetness47 (Sam x Reader) /

15 “We came, we saw, we kicked its ass!” Ghostbusters (1984) @horsegirly99 (Jensen x Reader) /

16 “That’s the bedroom, but nothing ever happened in there.” - “What a crime.” Ghostbusters (1984) - @abbesolutte (Dean x Reader) /

17 “It’s Halloween, everyone’s entitled to one good scare.” Halloween (1978) @deanna-s-winchester (Dean x Reader) /  @waywardnerd67 (Jensen x Reader)

18 “No tears please, it’s a waste of good suffering.” - Hellraiser (1987) @jdmplusdoublej (Misha x Reader) /

19 “You know that part in scary movies when somebody does something really stupid and everyone hates them for it? This is it.” Jeepers Creepers (2001) @rosettastxne (Dean x Reader) / @waywardrose13 (Jensen x Reader)

20 “We don’t need a stretcher in there. We need a mop!” A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984)

21 ”Don’t shoot yourself. Don’t shoot each other. And especially… don’t shoot me.” Planet Terror (2007) @thatfanficstuff (Cas x Reader) /

22 “I don’t get mad. I bake.” Prom Night III: The Last Kiss (1990) @katymacsupernatural (Jensen x Reader) /

23 “Darling. Light, of my life. I’m not gonna hurt ya. You didn’t let me finish my sentence. I said, I’m not gonna hurt ya. I’m just gonna bash your brains in.”  The Shining (1980) @cassiefanfic (Dean x Reader) /

24 “GET OUT OF YOUR PANTS!” Tremors (1990) - @crispychrissy (Dean x Reader)

25 “In space noone can hear you scream” Alien (1979)

26 “Oh yes. There will be blood” Saw II (2005) @hopes-archer (Jensen x Reader) /

27 “I see dead people” The Sixth Sense (1999) @queen-of-deans-booty (Sam x Reader) /

[wish-ful-thinking513]

I posted 1,073 times in 2021

124 posts created (12%)

949 posts reblogged (88%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 7.7 posts.

I added 1,720 tags in 2021

#i should probably have a queue tag - 795 posts

#uncaptioned - 160 posts

#aromantic - 158 posts

#chris rambles - 131 posts

#asexual - 128 posts

#i don’t know what to tag this - 115 posts

#shit post - 64 posts

#art - 61 posts

#not my art - 55 posts

#animal - 53 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#but anthony mackie has just such a calming and friendly vibes and it’s still there when he’s playing sam and i just really appreciate that

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

I hope all the bi aspecs have a wonderful bi week!

115 notes • Posted 2021-09-17 18:32:45 GMT

#4

For my New Years resolution, I’m gonna be a moss cryptid living in the forest.

129 notes • Posted 2021-01-01 18:30:38 GMT

#3

Alright does anyone know the history of the aro flag? Like, details of who made it and when? I can only find stuff about the redesigns, but even that’s vague :/

Sources are encouraged

138 notes • Posted 2021-09-11 01:39:58 GMT

#2

You ever think about how awkward Matthias must have felt during Nina and Zoya’s “reunion”? Like, they’re having a screaming match, and it’s probably definitely about him, but it’s all in Ravkan so he’s not 100%

This poor guy can never catch a break!

214 notes • Posted 2021-09-18 15:32:15 GMT

#1

I just realised explaining asexuality is kind of like the rock that looks like a face scene.

Asexual: I’m asexual. I experience little to no sexual attraction.”

Allo ™️: So you’re confused?

Asexual: No, I experience little to no sexual attraction.

Allo ™️: You don’t have a libido?

Asexual: No, I experience little to no sexual attraction!

Allo ™️: Oh I see! It’s a metaphor for hating sex!

Asexual:

Asexual: *pterodactyl screetch*

454 notes • Posted 2021-09-02 19:31:52 GMT

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