#Socks writes Aliens fanfic

[thisisahypnokinkblog]

Introduction to me

Hi there~. I’m Isabela, but you can call me Gravity (or ‘goddess’). I’m a transfemme hypnodomme and neurodivergent renaissance girlie. Screaming my thoughts into the void in the hope of attracting cool and kinky queers ;) [minors DNI. I WILL block ageless bios

You can flirt with me in Asks, but not in DMs right away. If you want to talk to me, talk to me. I need to get to know you a bit before I decide if I feel comfortable hypnotizing/playing with you, and coming on too strong is a good way to get blocked.

Strictly speaking, I’m a switch, but good luck exploiting my weaknesses on here, sweeties~~

Pronouns:

she/her/hers/herself, fae/fae/faer/faerself, ix/izm/ixys/ixself

Favorite Kinks:

Hypnosis of all sorts 😵‍💫

Scents and pheromones

Feet 💕 (including socks)

pet play

body worship

Just worship in general~ (worship me plz)

Degradation 💖

vampires

biting and marking 🥰

maaaaiiiids

Other Kinks (stuff I like, but it’s more surface level/im picky about it)

Transformation

Bimbofication (but it has to carefully tread the line of not feeling genuinely misogynistic)

stepfordization (ditto)

dronification

dollification

tentacles

parasites

breeding (it really has to be weird alien breeding though)

humiliation

sadism (scratching, slapping, and choking mainly)

a tiiiiiiny bit of forniphilia

Hard Limits:

raceplay, ageplay, stuff that edges close to genuine misogyny or homophobia, detrans and forcemasc, “bodily functions” (except, like, sneezing)

Non-Kink Interests:

I’m the sort of person who turns every interest into a hobby, so I do quite a lot. I love RPGs—I’m a forever GM trying to expand my oeuvre outside of D&D. I write fanfic, erotica, poetry, and some original fiction (mostly short stories/flash fiction) I’m also a HUGE music nerd with a head full of music trivia (and trivia in general, honestly). I play bass and guitar, write songs, and produce a bit—I have plans to release an EP in 2025 (wish me luck!) I’m also a mild board game nerd, though I mostly like light trivia games or stuff that really wishes it was an RPG. I play a spot of video games here and there, and watch a spot of TV (mostly anime). Oh and I have this weird thing with Garfield. I am obsessed with Garfield memes.

Favorite Characters:

Edelgard Von Hresvelg 🥰

Mr. House

Saori Hasegawa (c-ptsd 😔)

Miss Heed 💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

Favorite Musical Artists:

My Chemical Romance

Radiohead

Nirvana

I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME

Jawbox

Fall Out Boy

Panic! at the Disco

Favorite Board Games:

Arcadia Quest

Root

Codenames

Poetry For Neanderthals

Eldritch Horror/Arkham Horror

Betrayal On the House On the Hill

(PFP by yuziwen025. Banner from Hellsing by Kouta Hirano)

[jamiemooreblog]

🔮 Tumblr Is Back, Baby! 🔮

Tumblr Is Back, Baby, and It’s Weirder Than Ever!

Ah, the golden age of the internet—when everything was chaotic, messy, and, let’s be honest, totally unhinged. Facebook's trying to sell your data, Instagram’s forcing you to be perfect, and TikTok just wants you to dance. But Tumblr? Tumblr’s like, "Here, have some bizarre memes and random thoughts. No filters, no rules." Welcome back to the weirdest, funniest corner of the internet.

---

Why Tumblr Is the Only Social Media That Matters

Embrace the Chaos: Forget your perfectly curated Instagram feed. On Tumblr, you can post a blurry picture of your cat eating an entire block of cheese while crying about *how deeply you relate to this character from Breaking Bad. No judgment, only love.

Fandom Heaven: Whether you’re obsessed with Stranger Things, The Office, or a niche anime from the '90s, Tumblr is your home. Write that fanfic, create fanart, or just scream into the void about your favorite characters.

Example: Someone recently tweeted about how Michael Scott from The Office is “the original himbo” and Twitter basically exploded. Imagine that energy... on Tumblr.

Memes So Wild, They’ll Make You Question Reality: We’re talking memes that are pure chaos. Did you see that post that asked, "Do pigeons have existential crises?" That was it. Just the question. No context. And it was everything. Only Tumblr could make us ponder pigeon philosophies.

---

How to Become a Tumblr Legend

1. Unleash Your Inner Weirdo: You’ve got random thoughts that keep you up at night. Share them. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve seen today? (Was it a person wearing socks with sandals in the middle of winter? That’s nothing, but let’s discuss anyway.)

2. Dive into the Tag Labyrinth: Tumblr tags are a world of their own. Don’t just tag #funny. Explore tags like #cottagecorebutmakeitchaotic, #emotionallyexhaustedplants, or #emo-postingforattention. Embrace the madness of #vaporwave and #glitchart.

3. Fan the Flames of Fandom: Join the community, make friends, and get wild. You want to create a meme about Pedro Pascal adopting Baby Yoda? Go for it. The weirder, the better!

---

Come Home to the Chaos

Tumblr isn’t just a platform; it’s a state of mind—one where weirdos unite to post cringey fanart, deep thoughts about questionable memes, and everything in between. So, grab your favorite snack, plug in your headphones for your weirdcore playlist, and dive into the chaos.

Reblog if you:

Have ever cried over a fictional character. (Don’t lie, we all have.)

Believe that friendship bracelets hold actual mystical powers.

Think cats are secretly aliens spying on us. (It’s true, I know it.)

#tumblr #internetculture #nostalgia #memes #fandom #weirdcore #aesthetic #comeback

Let’s bring back the golden age of Tumblr, one reblog at a time.

P.S. Remember those custom themes and Nyan Cat? Yeah, those are still a thing. Get creative and make something weird!

P.P.S. Don’t forget to follow for more chaotic, unnecessary content. You know you want to.

[jeschalynn]

Ask game!!!!! bamboo, daffodil, and papyrus  please!

bamboo ⇢ do you change into a different outfit when you get home?

if I don't need to go out again, it's pajama time. That usually means a tank top or t-shirt with sweat pants, shorts, or something similar. Oh, and no socks, slippers 100%. My work clothes aren't too bad especially when I get to wear t-shirts and maxi skirts most of the summer that are loose and comfy. When its hot and humid, I really don't want to stay in the same clothes when I get home if I don't have to.

daffodil ⇢ do you have siblings? if yes, in what ways do you think you’re similar to or different from them?

I have a younger brother and older step-brother. Biggest differences are probably health-related (I'm chronically ill, neither of them have what I do) and they drink/light up recreationally where I don't. They both have a dry, snarky and witty sense of humor. They're hilarious, I love them so much. Also, we're cat people.

Similarities with my younger brother:

We have lot of the same hobbies/interests and it's very "easy" for us to spend time together without much bickering about what to do or talk about. Our dad raised us mostly by himself and we ended up liking a lot of the same games, TV shows, etc. The dinosaur craze in the 90s was awesome because we were both obsessed and got to share a bunch of really neat Jurassic Park toys. lol We get together to hangout or see movies if our schedules align (he works night shift so its tricky). We saw the new Alien movie with our dad the other day.

And for my step-brother:

We're both avid readers. He is a talented writer too but doesn't do that much anymore, his creative interests are music-based these days. He's known since we were teens that I write fanfic and original stories and he's very supportive and encouraging.

I also have an older half-brother but I pretend he doesn't exist.

papyrus ⇢ if you put your ‘on repeat’ playlist on shuffle, what’s the first song that comes up? what do you like about it / associate it with?

Sad Girl - Charlotte Cardin

Oh god. Okay, typical breakup song but it feels so heavy for some reason? It reminds me of the sort of music I listened to after a really bad breakup when I was younger. Yeesh.

random get-to-know-me ask game

[tsuki-sennin]

Votre toast, je peux vous le rendre, Senor, senors car avec les soldats Oui, les Toreros, peuvent s'entendre; Pour plaisirs, pour plaisirs, Ils ont les combats! Le cirque est plein, c'est jour de fete! Le cirque est plein du haut en bas; Les spectateurs, perdant la tete, Les spectateurs s'interpellent a grand fracas! Apostrophes, cris et tapage Pousses jusques a la fureur! Car c'est la fete du courage! C'est la fete des gens de co Allons! en garde! Allons! Allons! ah!

Today, a bull rages through the China shop that is our collective hearts and minds. Kamen Rider Buffa stands alone against the wicked witch Beroba. Two cows enter, one cow leaves. Best moooooooove it to your seats if you wanna catch the action this week. Haha~! Ohhhhhh, I'm sorry.

Spoilers, I guess...

-Geats is bleached like he's the Man of the Beginning. Throw him in the wash with a red sock and he'll turn pink!

-Good morning, Tsumuri-neechan!

-The God of Creation.

-Chained to the game, like his mother before him.

-Yeah you're gettin' it now, Keiwa.

-The squad're all posing together <3333

-Well! We did it!

-...huh, the Gang Riders were still a thing? I think I legitimately forgot about them being in last episode.

-"BOOOOOOOOOOO! THIS GAME SUCKS!"

-Did Jitto just call them "vips"?

-"Whatever, I've got a better idea."

-This must be our Azu for the season.

-Kuromuri, I'll call her for now.

-Or as the transliteration may call her, "Kromer".

-Goddess of Destruction.

-"This will be the greatest fucking moment of reality TV of all time. The Desire Grand Prix's Bad End Game!"

-"Rise, my son. We must battle."

-Oh hey there, Daichi.

-Yeah, you did that.

-"Man Daichi-kun, this was peak character writing right here~! I really liked how you made Keiwa-kun shit himself in anger by saying her memories amounted to nothing, that was sick."

-"Get lost! This is my tree!"

-Y'know I just realized that the people who watch the DGP don't really want anything substantial out of it. Niram-P wanted to make cool superhero stories out of real people, Archimedel wanted to make his children grow up big and strong, Daichi wanted to use, even the DGP executives have actual goals in mind (those obviously being profit and subjugation).

-Beroba, Kekera, everybody who ever sunk all their free time into this farce, they're all just doing it because they're bored. Is the future really that sad and miserable that banging hot alien chicks and curbing robot uprisings doesn't excite these yuppies?

-OH

-Daichi's dead!

-Oh, never mind.

-Thanks?

-Ohhhh!

-That's our Buffa! Keeping up despite the vast power difference.

-Awkward silence.

-Berdly's got nothin' for you, Michinaga.

-"A world-ending tree. Like Exdeath, or the Saigyou Ayakashi!"

-"Get the tree back, and I'll save her."

-They bought the Battle Pass.

-"Tycoon's my problem. Right now, this guy's yours."

-All that weight must be crashing down upon our boy Michinaga.

-"Tycoon, my son. Please, help shoulder that burden."

-Whose faith in man endures despite their sins...

-"Hey, at least we're actually doing shit, y'know?"

-"Hi, Micchi~! My oshi~! Guess who's gonna write fanfics about you getting your organs surgically removed while you're still conscious~?

-"Laser Raise Riser~!"

-Ohhhhhh! There she is. Breaking Mammoth Rosé.

-...God, I can only imagine what sort of horrifying scenarios Beroba'd inflict on a Buffa figure.

-Berobaba.

-Oh, the gun scales with Beroba. That's something I haven't noticed before. Though uh, I guess I couldn't have, but-

-Let's goooooo! Fuck 'em up, Michinaga!

-Zombie Strike!

-OH

-OKAY

-Buffa's Jyamashin powers just kicked in.

-I'm afraid you've lost, Beroba-san.

-Beroba, one of what seems to be endless sadists who indulged the DGP for so long, lies dying on the ground.

-Ayaka-san, you are a fantastic actress.

-Kazuto-san too, this scene is legitimately fantastic considering it came just after an angry construction worker just went Super Saiyan against a giant pink robot.

-Deleted Beroba.

-"For now on, Buffa's a Rider of Hope."

-"Oh, an old fossil?"

-Kekera Set!

-Keiwa with the save!

-"My ribs are poking into my kidneys and I think my arm is completely shattered. I'm sorry, Tycoon..."

-"Keiwaaaaa... that's not what I told you to be, Tycoon!"

-PLEB

-"Alright, stop yelling. Here's the serum."

-Sara-neesan is alive!

-"Keiwa, my spleen. I still need that..."

-Godhood is a curse, it seems.

-Ohhhhhh, that's a Game Master form.

-That's no doubt Jitto's. I wonder what kinda name he's saddled with?

-Alright, tune in next time~!

[braincoins]

“Newt needs a new uniform blazer as she is nearly outgrowing hers. And new shoes. New clothes in general, honestly.”

Bishop was compiling a list of the things they needed.

Out Loud.

Which was not helping her read. 

She had the day off: one of those unexpected days off because the dock didn’t have enough work to go around. Normally she did everything she could to avoid being selected to go home, but today she’d volunteered. Bishop had been after her for a while now about wanting to “go over some things” and she had an ebook she actually wanted to read. 

She hadn’t expected to be doing these things at the same time (or trying to).

“Hicks will need a new left eye soon, as the damage to it is rapidly worsening his vision, and it will be permanent.”

“Yes, I know,” she said, setting the tablet aside. There was no point trying to keep it up while he was doing this. “We’re almost done paying off the last surgery, aren’t we?”

“Two more payments,” he agreed. “And then there is, of course, therapy.”

“Therapy?”

“Just because we moved to an area where The Company is less likely to interfere with our lives, does not mean that therapy is no longer required.”

She sighed. “Newt’s sleeping better. Hicks is sleeping better. I’m sleeping better.”

“Therapy is about more than just assuaging nightmares. The three of you went through a traumatic experience. Newt lost her entire birth family, Hicks and I lost our squad, and...”

“Wait, wait.” She knew where he was going with that, and she didn’t want to go there. But he’d provided her with a handy swerve. “Bishop, do you need therapy, too?”

“I’m already receiving therapy,” he told her. 

She blinked.

“There are online resources available for artificial people to receive help when they need it. I have been making good use of them.”

“But, why do you...?”

He cleared his throat and looked down. “I was programmed to protect people. To sacrifice myself rather than allow a human to come to harm. Sometimes I question whether or not I have violated that programming. The entire squad is dead and I’m unsure whether or not I could have done more.”

She reached over to rest her hand on his shoulder. “Bishop, you did everything you could.”

“I know that. But it’s good to hear. Good of you, specifically, to say it.”

Her brow furrowed a bit, but then it hit. “I’m sorry I treated you the way I did when I first met you. You’re a good person, Bishop.”

He smiled. He almost never smiled fully, almost never showed his teeth. His smile was hesitant, almost shy. “You were still suffering from your own trauma at the time.”

“Yeah, but... it was still a shitty thing of me to do.”

“And you’re starting to speak like Hicks.”

She cleared her throat, pulled her hand away from his shoulder, and hoped she wasn’t blushing as much as she feared she was.

“But this brings me back to why you also need therapy. I don’t think we need it as a group any longer; we are a perfectly functional, if somewhat... unusual family unit.” He was still smiling. “But individual therapy might be useful, to work out lingering issues surrounding LV-426.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” She sighed and leaned back in her chair. “Suggestions?”

He replied immediately, “We can pick up new clothing for Newt at a second-hand shop, and trade the uniform blazer for a size bigger; many of the local shops will do that. Prioritize the therapy and save up for the eye surgery. I might be able to convince his employer to help us pay for certain models of bio-eye that would enhance his usefulness in security.”

“Can therapy for Hicks get him to stop fussing like an old woman over how much we’re spending on getting him fixed up?” she asked wryly.

And Bishop, being Bishop, answered sincerely, “That seems like an ingrained character trait, but it is possible.”

She laughed. “Okay, well, sounds like a plan. Anything I need to do right this second about it?”

“Find yourself a therapist,” he told her. “And then enjoy the rest of your day off.”

“Affirmative,” she answered, the way Newt always said it. They all said it now, a darkly-amusing bond between the four of them. 

“And let me know if that book is any good; I’ve been curious about it.”

She barked a laugh. “You can read it when I’m done,” she promised.

[braincoins]

He groaned as he came to, and she sat up straighter in her chair, setting the tablet aside. As his eyes opened, she pushed the button to bring the head of his bed up a little, because she knew he’d try to sit up, and also that he shouldn’t.

“Ellen?” he asked groggily, head flopping in her direction.

She blinked. He never called her that in public. Hell, he never called her that outside their shared moments in a bedroom they’d started sharing more out of necessity than romance. But he’d said it, so she’d respond likewise.

Still, she was quiet with it. “I’m right here, Dwayne.” She laid a hand on his arm. 

“I feel like shit,” he groaned. “Don’t they have painkillers here?”

“They do, you’re already on them.”

He winced. “Great.”

She slid her hand down his arm, took his hand in both of hers and gave it a light squeeze. “Dr. Lau said it went well.”

“I’ll take his word for that,” he replied. “Hard to tell right now. And there’s still...”

She interrupted him. “Don’t worry about the cost right now. You worry about getting better. You’ve needed the bio-heart for a while now.” She didn’t say how long.

“Yeah, I know.” And he didn’t say why.

Neither of them discussed why he’d waited either. Back in the US, back when they were fresh from LV-426, he could’ve gotten the biomechanical heart implanted for a low cost, because it had happened on duty, on an official mission for the USCMC and The Company.

But it would have also meant being sedated in a hospital that The Company practically owned. It would have been the exact definition of letting his guard down. It might have meant he would conveniently “not wake up”.

“How’s the kid?” he asked instead.

She smiled. “Fine. She got her official name change.”

“Let me guess: she’s Ellen now, too?”

She chuckled. “No. She’s Jordan.”

His brow furrowed. “What?”

“She’s Jordan Ripley. To remember the past, but not be tied to it.”

“I’m still calling her ‘Newt’.”

“She still wants to be called ‘Newt’,” she reassured him.

“Bishop and the shithead?”

“Don’t call Jones that!” she retorted in mock-outrage.

“Why not? He is.”

She snorted. He could very well have pointed out that she called him a little shithead on a regular basis. 

“He’s fine. Bishop’s fine. He likes his new job.”

“At least one of us does.” 

Hicks was a mall cop, which he hated, but it was low-profile, no security clearance to file for, and it was a steady, if not lucrative, paycheck. Bishop had landed a security job as well, but at an R&D center. They only cared about model number and capabilities; most people still didn’t bother running security checks on artificial people. His paycheck was also steady, and much larger.

And Ripley was back at the docks. She felt safe in a powerloader, even if she sometimes had brief flashbacks of flashing teeth and acidic slime. Not exactly a glamorous job, but at the end of the day, she at least had a sense of achievement: this many boxes loaded or unloaded, that many shipments sent off. Her paycheck fluctuated based on the work - sometimes she got sent home if there wasn’t enough to do that day - but there was a union to make sure she got HK minwage each check, at least.

“I still think it was too soon,” he said quietly.

“No,” she insisted. “You needed this. You heard the doctor. Your heart was too damaged to keep going much longer otherwise.”

He sighed. “I know, but...”

“We’ll figure out the money,” she told him. “Stop it.”

“Fine. I’m too tired.” 

She stood, keeping hold of his hand with one of her own, and leaned in to kiss his cheek. “Get some sleep.”

“And don’t dream?” he asked with a wry grin. He’d heard it enough times.

So instead she said, “And dream only of good things.”

“Oh, so... you then.”

She blushed. “Stop being charming and go to sleep.” She tried to pull away, to go sit down in the chair again, but he gripped her hand tight.

“Hey,” he said. “Bio-heart or not... it’s still yours.”

She stared at him, blush roaring into full flame on her cheeks. “Dwayne, that’s...”

“You don’t have to say anything. You just have to know.”

She leaned in and kissed him, on the lips this time. “I love you, too,” she whispered. Then she stood up straight and ordered, “Now sleep.”

“Affirmative,” he said with a wink and a yawn. 

She shook her head, reclined the bed for him and went back to her chair. She picked up her tablet and tried to resume reading, but his words ran over and over through her head and heart. She sat there and smiled.

[braincoins]

“NEWT! BISHOP! C’MERE!” And then he sat back down at the table.

“Well, that’s one way to do it,” she allowed.

Newt came running in, Bishop walking after her. “What is it?” she asked.

“Nothing bad,” Ripley said immediately to calm her anxiety. If Newt got too anxious, she’d run off and hide somewhere none of them could get at her. It didn’t happen often, but she still felt safest tucked away in small, easily-overlooked areas.

“We were just kicking around an idea,” Hicks replied, “but we’ve kind of started talking seriously about it, so we thought the whole family should be here.”

Ripley had never seen Bishop’s face light up like that.

“Talking seriously about what?” Newt wanted to know.

“Moving,” Hicks answered. “There’s nothing for us here except being under The Company’s thumb the whole time.”

“And we’re not,” Ripley gave Hicks a significant Look, “going to play King of the Asteroid.”

“It was a joke!” he countered.

“King of the Asteroid?” Newt asked.

Bishop cleared his throat and answered, “I think they’re referring to the laws regarding discovery of extrasolar planetoids, often referred to as ‘Finders Keepers’. Many people or even cultures of people left Earth to try to set up their own way of life, eventually or even immediately declaring themselves a sovereign society instead of an Earth colony.”

“It was a joke,” Hicks insisted. “But the idea of moving off-world, maybe somewhere already terraformed...”

“I dunno,” Newt said. “I like Earth. There’s lots of plants and water and the sky is actually blue.”

“Even though you have to take those supplements?” Ripley asked. Newt had been born on another world, and her body had developed under different conditions. There was just slightly less gravity on... her homeworld, and that had required some adjustment for her. There was less sunshine, no native plants or animals; her diet had largely been The Company’s “Child Development Rations,” which, while technically maintaining all the necessary nutrients and calories, were just not as good for a growing body as actual food. Plus, there was the malnourishment of her period in hiding to overcome. 

“I might have to take supplements somewhere else, too,” she pointed out. “And they might not have strawberries.”

Ripley chuckled. Newt was unusual in loving a lot of vegetables that children traditionally hated (oh, the memories of having to bribe Amanda into eating her broccoli!), but she was right in line with absolutely adoring strawberries. Most fruits and vegetables, honestly. Ripley was convinced she just liked food that had actual texture to it and wasn’t reconstituted or served as a paste.

“Okay, so we stay on Earth,” Hicks agreed. “That still gives us a lot of room to narrow things down.”

“If the main reason for moving is to get away from the Weyland-Yutani corporation,” Bishop interjected, “I suggest the sovereign city-state of Hong Kong. English is one of the official languages, many places use the simplified written Cantonese for signage, and it has been its own recognized, democratic nation for over a century. The Company does not even have an office in Hong Kong, nor anywhere else in China.”

“Isn’t Hong Kong the bubble city?” Newt asked.

Bishop nodded. “It was eco-domed in 2125, to keep the smog and pollution rampant in many other Chinese cities from affecting their populace, as well as to serve as a design test for possible further extrasolar colonies. While Hong Kong is a trade crossroads, it tries to be as self-sufficient as possible. There are many green spaces. I do not know if they have strawberries there, but I am sure we could grow our own.”

“It sounds great, Bishop,” Hicks said, “but just one problem: how much is all that gonna cost? Yeah, I’ve got that lump sum pension I’ve been sitting on, but even just moving over there is going to cost a pretty penny, let alone finding a place to live.”

“Oh, we don’t have to worry about that,” he replied. “The last time I checked my account balance, I had 254,371 credits.”

They all stared at him.

He just continued, “Hong Kong does have a separate currency, but the conversion rates to Hong Kong dollars are good.”

“How do you have all that money?” Newt asked him.

He looked confused. “Just because I’m an artificial person, doesn’t mean I don’t still get paid. In fact, I’m guaranteed the same wages - including hazard pay - as any other Colonial Marine of my rank, according to the Synthetics’ Rights Act of 2150. I just have never had much need to spend any of it.” He smiled. “I’m happy to use it to help my family.”

Ripley smiled widely at him. “Thank you, Bishop.” She looked around at all of them. “So, I guess we can look forward to authentic Chinese food soon, hm?”

“Let’s get some ice cream to celebrate!” Hicks declared, shooting to his feet. “Bishop’s buyin’!” 

[braincoins]

My Ripley/Hicks Masterpost

Because I realized there is a chronology here! Post Aliens, ignores all movies after it. Hicks and Newt are still alive, Bishop’s repaired, everyone’s back on Earth and suffering from PTSD. Except Jones, the little shithead.

One Big, Traumatized Family

A Purposeful Way of Describing The Truth

Gentle, Memories, Safety

Touch, Stars, Belonging

Moving

New Heart, Same Feelings

A Perfectly Functional (if somewhat unusual) Family Unit

[braincoins]

Do you know what's needed? A Ripley/Hicks fic where Alien3 never happened. Hicks wakes up in a medical bay or something, sees Ripley and realized that she managed to survive, save Newt, and learned that she even fought a huge Xenomorph Queen. A happy fluffy fic, if you feel like to do it ❤️

((YES PLZ. I’m surprised that there aren’t a ton of these fics out there though? I should go hunting some time… Anyway, this is one of those ones that’s going to be hard for me to keep short, but I’ma try for you and for our shared love of Aliens))

He sat up with a shout. It was bright, too bright, and he was disoriented. Bright and white and odorless and for a moment he thought he was dead and he’d gone on to…

Ripley - Ellen - came into his view. “Hicks! Calm down. Come on, ease down.” Her hand was on his back and she smiled despite worry flickering in her eyes.

He gulped down a few breaths so he could say, “Wait, this might still be Heaven.”

She snorted and rolled her eyes, but he caught the blush in her cheeks. “You’re not dead. None of us are. Well…” Her hand slid away as she moved. He followed her - the only familiar thing here - and saw her sit in a chair. “…you, me, Newt, and Bishop, anyway.”

He looked around and recognized what the place was, at least. “Med-bay? Which station?”

“Gateway,” she replied.

“Gateway…” He threw the covers off and tried to stand up, to go look out the window. This close, he could see Earth…

“Stop that, or the nurse’ll come back in here and strap you to the bed!” Ripley tugged him back down. She was strong, but she wasn’t stronger than he was, physically, anyway. She shouldn’t have been able to, but either he was weakened from his wounds or he just… let her. He wasn’t sure which. “Stay in bed. You need to rest. You already ripped your IVs out twice.”

He glanced at the bag hanging near his bed and frowned. “I hate needles.”

“Says the man with… how many tattoos?”

“Hey, I get to be drunk when I get those.”

“Isn’t that supposed to be a bad idea?”

He grinned a little. “You have any tats?”

She smirked. “Maybe you’ll find out someday. But for right now, yes, we’re at Gateway. Home, or very nearly. We’re being kept in standard quarantine, and… well, you needed the medical care. Fortunately we’re in quarantine together.”

“Together?”

“Just like one big, traumatized family.” She sighed and stretched in her chair. He watched her body move in her hospital-issued jumpsuit. “I’m so sick of therapy, but I think it’s good for Newt. The real issue is Bishop.”

“What’s wrong with Bishop? He’s an artificial person; he can’t get infected or…”

Her eyes caught his. Most of her face hadn’t changed, but her eyes… they begged him not to say it. Not to make it real. He noticed her rub her chest and shift uneasily. He caught himself repeating the motion and then hissing in pain.

“Don’t do that. The artificial skin is still healing. Your wound was pretty bad.”

He nodded. “So… Bishop?”

Ripley explained to him the extent and cause of Bishop’s injuries. “Holy fucking shit, the QUEEN? There really was a Queen and you took her out?” He was surprised but at the same time not; if anyone could, it’d be Ripley.

“Well, I… blasted her out into space, anyway.” Her smile was like a battle-shredded flag: worn, tattered, but triumphant. “Same old trick.”

“Hey, if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. But they can fix Bishop up, right?”

Ripley rubbed the back of her head. “That’s the thing. The Company isn’t real happy with us. They didn’t like me to start with, since I blew up one of their cargo ships; finding out we blew up an entire colony…”

“Yeah, oops.” He wasn’t feeling terribly guilty about that. The faces of his lost friends flashed across his mind. The thought of how many colonists there’d been there, and… We lost more than just a colony; we lost friends, loved ones, PEOPLE. But that was the Company for you.

“Officially, they’re ‘waiting until end of quarantine’ to come in and fix Bishop. He’s a ‘hero’ now, just like we are. The whole thing’s in the Sulaco’s data logs, and it was leaked to the press, so they can’t sit on it and pretend it didn’t happen. But unofficially?”

“We’re up shit creek without a paddle,” he summed up. “Yeah, that’s no surprise. I’ll see what I can do. I know some damn good mechanics, but I don’t think any of ‘em ever worked on an A.P. before. I’ll ask around though. If the Company ‘fixes’ him, who knows what they’ll do while they’ve got him?”

She nodded. “It’s… not going to be easy from here on out. You know they’re going to take some of this out on you.”

He shrugged. “Eh, same ol’, same ol’. Bein’ shit on is a grunt’s lot in life.” He leaned back in his bed to consider it. “I’ll probably get promoted and then ‘encouraged’ to retire early. I’ll see if I can wring the pension out of ‘em as hush money, so I can more easily ‘disappear’.”

“Good, good. You do that. I’m glad you’ve got a good option.” Her smile was tight. 

He sat up and reached over to lay his hand on one of hers. “You know I’ll help you. And Newt.”

“You don’t have to,” she replied immediately.

“Yeah, I do. And I want to.” He squeezed her hand. “We’ll get through this together.” When she raised her eyes to his, he smiled and hoped it was reassuring. “One big, traumatized family.”

Her smile hit her eyes for the first time. It lit up her whole face. “Thank you, Dwayne.”

“My pleasure, Ellen.”