#about 3500 words total

[docholligay]

Ep 5: Bullet points 

Hello! This is about up to Episode 5 of Yellowjackets, and ONLY episode 5 of Yellowjackets. I have not seen beyond the fifth episode, at all, and know NOTHING about this show. Please do not spoil it for me.  Things that are spoilery in nature, for me, include: saying things like  “Just wait!!” confirming or denying anything I put forward, outside information about the cast interviews or creator statements, leading questions like “Do you think “blank moment” means anything?” etc. Remember  that Y’ALL HAVE SEEN THE SHOW AND I HAVE NOT. This informs the way you  talk about things relating to the show. Just be really careful is all  I’m asking. Also: If there is LITERALLY any stance I  could take on this show or character that would make you upset, please  just fucking block the tag

If you WOULD like to discuss the show and my takes on it, the Discord is right here! I don’t go there, so it’s a great place to get every emotion out.

Please thank @sailorsunspot and @moonlight-frittata for backing this odd way of doing a liveblog, and remember my tip jar is always open

Also loving the stage that’s being set of ‘feeling bad for Jeff’ who is making a distinct effort here to try and engage with Shauna we love a complex narrative, we love Shauna looking like a real asshole. 

I adore what a dumbass Shauna is to think she can hide being pregnant from all of these girls, this is never going to happen, no. 

Boy do I wish actual hunting was as easy as hunting in Yellowjackets

“I looked him up,. He doesn’t exist” what an interesting thing to make note of

How much shitty eyeliner does nat have and how long will she continue to wear it?

I find it so fucking deeply suspicious that Misty catches the symbol in the photos. I know she’s a citizen detective, but, that absolutely should not be something one can catch from random photos that are not of the pattern itself. That’s an insane amount of mental mapping. 

Jackie’s parents giving Shauna the uniform feels borderline cruel. 

Hey, captioners, it’s “speak your piece” not “speak your peace” 

I did not like putting this in any of the essays, because it didn’t really fit, but I absolutely love the infinity symbol, as an idea that they will always be dying here, they will always be here, they will never, in a sense, get to leave this room. 

I should have seen Shauna being pregnant with Jeff’s baby.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Sunshine [6] - Middle of the Night

AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your wonderful support and lovely comments and HCs! ❤️ You’re amazing! ❤️

I hope you like this as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Summary: Drunk calls can lead to sweet moments.

Word Count: 3500 

CW: Violence, explicit language, mentions of sex, drinking, getting drunk, throwing up

Series Masterlist

To be completely honest, getting drunk was not in the plans tonight.

You were supposed to have one drink and go home but in your defense your best friend had tricked you with that two for one deal and now you were on your fifth cocktail, giggling at the story of her latest date.

“Listen, if you like him, I can totally normalize him living with his ex for you,” you told her and she made a face.

“How?”

“The rental market is in shambles.”

She let out a laugh, then shook her head.

“Nope.”

“Capitalism is fucking all of us—”

“We’re not doing that,” she said. “I mean how would you feel if Logan was living with his ex?”

“Logan hasn’t asked me out,” you pointed out. “Which is more reason to believe he doesn’t like me like that.”

“The guy maimed three people for you!”

“It could’ve been a friendly gesture!”

She threw her head back. “You’re not serious.”

You shrugged your shoulders, then downed your drink and motioned for another one.

“Listen,” you said, your mind all fuzzy. “Do I want Logan? Yes. Do I dream about us living happily ever after? Yes. Do I have very detailed fantasies about him breaking my bed? Also yes. But we don’t—”

“I’d just like to remind you that while you don’t have enough money to buy a new bed,” she interfered. “I will buy you a new one if you break it while the hot lumberjack is fucking your brains out.”

“Thank you, you’re a true friend,” you said solemnly as the waitress brought you your cocktail and you thanked her, then turned to Julie. “Jamie wants him to be terrible in bed so that I’ll snap out of this.”

“Doubt it,” she said. “The guy has been around since the mid-1800s, I’d assume he has some experience.”

You tilted your head, then gasped.

“Oh my God!” you said, reaching out to grab her arm over the table, almost knocking over her glass but she caught it before her drink could spill on the table. “What if Jamie is right?”

“I literally just said—”

“No, he was alive in mid-1800s!” you said, making her frown.

“Yeah?”

“What if he is like Edward Cullen and waiting for marriage?”

“That man is a whore!” Julie snapped, flailing her hands. “I’ve heard the way he speaks to you, he’s a slut—there’s no fucking way. He’ll break your bed any day now.”

You heaved a dramatic sigh. “To repeat, he hasn’t made a move.”

“To repeat, I think maiming three guys for you counts as making a move.”

You sucked on the straw of your cocktail, the happy warmth of alcohol buzzing in your head.

“So you think he likes me back?”

“I’m pretty sure he likes you back.”

 You grabbed some popcorn from the bowl on the table.

“Yeah well,” you said. “I guess we’ll see.”

“Why don’t you ask him out?”

You pulled your brows together. “I can’t do that Julie!”

“Why not?” she asked. “Is it the 1800s? Will people call you a harlot in the town square?”

“No!” you said. “No it’s just…”

“When was the last time you got laid?”

“That has nothing to with the situation,” you said and took a huge sip of your cocktail, making her grin.

“Remind me, when was it?”

“It’s been some time.”

“So why aren’t you climbing Logan like a tree?”

“I’m trying!” you whined and she motioned at you.

“Drink your cocktail. The whole thing.”

You nodded and downed your drink, your insides getting even warmer as you put your glass on the table. Julie grinned, and pushed your phone in your direction.

“Now call him.”

“Julie!”

“Just ask him out!” she said. “What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

“He could hang up on me.”

“He’s not gonna hang up on you,” she said. “Listen, that guy has been picking you up from work, calling you princess, saving you from creeps and sniffing your hair...”

“We’re not so sure about the last part.”

“Yes we are,” she said, pointing a finger at you. “Call him. You’ll be too much of a chicken to ask him out when you’re sober, so do it when you’re drunk.”

You let out a whine, then took the phone into your hands, heaving a sigh.

“What if I’m not his type?”

Julie rolled her eyes. “Somebody really needs to fuck you in front of a mirror.”

You scrunched up your face. “Oh I could never do that.”

“You should, it’s fun,” she said and nodded at the phone in your hand. “Call him.”

“But—”

“Do you want to fuck him, yes or no?”

“I want us to live happily ever after!” you said and paused for a second. “And yeah I want to fuck him. A lot. Day and night, multiple positions.”

“Call him.”

You took a deep breath, then nodded to yourself.

“I’ll be back,” you said and stood up from the chair, stumbling as the room spun around you but you grabbed the back of the chair and sat down again. “Shit, I’m too drunk.”

“It’s not that loud here,” she said. “You don’t have to go outside.”

“Okay,” you said and found Logan’s name, then touched it and took the phone to your ear, your heart pacing in your chest. You drummed your fingernails on the table, frowning to yourself, then lowered the phone.

“He’s not answering,” you said and ended the call, then turned to Julie. “Maybe he’s busy or something?”

“Yeah, didn’t you say they went on missions?”

“That’s what I heard,” you said and heaved a sigh. “Oh well. It was worth a shot.”

Julie shrugged her shoulders.

“Yeah,” she said and thought for a moment. “We should get shots.”

You gasped, and clapped your hands together.

“Yeah!” you said. “Yeah let’s get shots!”

                                                   *

Since Julie’s place was closer, you had split the taxi fee and dropped her off first before the taxi took you to your place. As it turned out, the shots were a bad idea because you had to rush to the bathroom to throw up as soon as you stepped foot into your apartment, but after you brushed your teeth and washed your face, you were still not sleepy.

On the contrary, you were pretty energetic.

…And hungry.

Starving, actually.

You hummed to yourself as you opened the fridge, then tilted your head. Nothing in your fridge looked good enough, so you grabbed your phone to order, but then scoffed when you saw the delivery fee.

“Absolutely not,” you murmured and grabbed your jacket to put it on, then grabbed your keys before walking out of the apartment. The buzz of the alcohol was still in your system despite you throwing up, so you hopped down the stairs and stepped out of the apartment.

Walking did help the nausea and your head spinning, and you were just passing by a shop when the fish tank caught your eye, making you stop in your steps.

Fish.

Interesting.

You stared at the shop window, nearly hypnotized by the lively colors and the fish swimming in the huge fish tank behind the glass but snapped out of it when your phone started vibrating in your pocket.

Logan.

“Oh fuck,” you muttered to yourself as you stared at the name flashing on the screen, your breath hitching. “Oh fuck, oh fuck…”

You took a deep breath, and touched the screen, then took the phone to your ears, your heart pacing in your chest.

“Hey!” you said, your voice going a pitch higher. “Um, what’s up?”

“Hi princess,” he said, his deep voice making you bite at your lip. “Didn’t hear you call, sorry about that.”

“No problem,” you said with a giggle. “Jesus, fish are pretty. Did you know they were pretty? I didn’t really pay attention to them but—oh my God. I’m so buying Theo fish.”

“What?”

“No seriously, he wanted it, and these things are tiny and it’s not that hard to take care of fish, is it? I mean it can’t be harder than taking care of orchids, Nik bought some for me and those things are goddamn suicidal, I tell you.”

“…Are you drunk?”

“Tipsy,” you corrected him as you fished your gloss out of your purse to apply it, staring at the window. “Tipsy-ish? This store is open right? Yeah, I see someone inside—”

“Hold on, you’re drunk and outside?” he asked. “Alone?”

“Yeah but it’s fine,” you said. “I stepped outside for some fresh air and I’m gonna get food but I got distracted by this aquarium—I’ll buy two fish and then put one of those fake trees and stuff into the tank—”

“Stay put, I’ll be there.”

“You don’t even know where I am though?” you said, looking around the street. “I’m close to my apartment but like I said, I need to eat something and Theo needs fish—”

“I’ll follow your scent, stay put,” he said and hung up, making you hum, and then put the phone into your pocket and entered the shop to smile at the owner.

“Good evening sir,” you said. “I need one orange and one white fish please. My son will name them Cheeto and Popcorn.”

                                               *

Logan found you as you were leaving the fast food place, holding the paper bag full of French fries tight with the small fish tank tucked in your other arm. You put the paper bag on the lid on the tank as the roar of the motorcycle made you lift your head and you looked over your shoulder.

Jesus Christ, he was too hot.

You could swear there were flying hearts circling your head as he got off the motorcycle and made his way to you, his herculean figure making you sigh before you looked up at his handsome face, your heartbeat getting faster.

“Hi sweetheart.”

You blinked up at him, still hugging the tank to your chest. “Hi. You’re very handsome.”

That made the corners of his mouth twitch into a small smile before he tilted his head.

“How much did you drink, again?”

“Um…” you bit inside your cheek, looking up at the dark sky to calculate in your head. “Six cocktails and a couple of shots. The shots were Julie’s idea though.”

“Right.”

“Hold this,” you said, pushing the tank into his arms before grabbing the paper bag to open it. “Ugh, I’m starving! Are you hungry?”

“Nope,” he said, still smiling. “Go ahead.”

You hummed a song to yourself as you dug into the fries, and cleared your throat, trying to focus.

“You didn’t have to drive all the way here,” you said. “My place isn’t far.”

“Mm hm, and you’re drunk.”

“Tipsy,” you corrected him as you chewed on the fries with him walking beside you. “I swear to God, potatoes are the best vegetable to grace this earth—what were you doing when I called? Am I keeping you from something?”

“Nope,” he said. “I was walking around the halls to make sure everything was alright, I didn’t take my phone with me. How about you? Fun night?”

“So much fun!” you said as you popped a couple of fries into your mouth. “Julie is seeing this guy—well, they slept together, and apparently he’s still living with his ex and it’s like a huge red flag for her, but seriously the rents are insane nowadays so I don’t—Logan, what are your thoughts on premarital sex?”

That made his head whip around and he stared at you while you calmly chewed on the fries, waiting for his answer.

“…Huge fan of it?” he said after a beat and you nodded your head.

“Same here,” you said as you started walking again. “Did you—um, so do you count as Victorian or Georgian? I always mix those two up for some reason.”

He pulled his brows together. “What?”

“I watch a lot of period movies, I think yearning is the most romantic thing in the entire world, that hand scene in Pride and Prejudice changed me as a person,” you said as you reached into the paper bag to pull out more fries. “Um, I have a lot of questions for you and I know you’re this cool and mysterious guy so you can just say yes or no.”

He stifled a laugh. “Sure thing, hit me.”

“Did anyone give you their handkerchief?”

“No.”

You gasped. “No one gave you their handkerchief? What a bunch of assholes!”

“I had other priorities in mind during those times, sweetheart.”

“Yearning is a priority, Logan,” you said wistfully. “Next question, were you ever accidentally engaged?”

“How does one get accidentally engaged?”

“People see you talking to each other without a chaperone.”

“What?” he asked with a grimace. “I don’t—no.”

“No wonder why you like modern times better, now that I think about it,” you murmured as you looked into the bag, then heaved a sigh when you saw only a couple of fries in it. You grabbed them and threw them into your mouth, then scrunched up the paper bag to throw it into the nearest trash can. “Do you like Cheeto and Popcorn?”

Logan pulled his brows together. “Come again?”

“The fish!” you pointed at the small fish tank he was holding in one hand and he looked down at it, then chuckled.

“Right,” he said. “They look nice, sweetheart.”

“Right? Theo will be very happy, and—is there any rules against pets at the school? Because he will want to take them there.”

“We can bend the rules a little for him, it’s fine,” he said, making you smile at him brightly.

“Aw thank you!” you said as you licked your lips, then looked around before turning to Logan. “Logan?”

His eyes held a soft light in them. “Hm?”

“Can I see your claws?”

He frowned slightly but unsheathed his claws. “Why? I don’t see any threats, do you—”

He was cut off when you held onto his arm to lift his hand a little to see the blur reflection of your face on the metal, then dabbed at your lip gloss that had smudged a little with the tip of your finger. You could feel Logan staring at you so you lifted your gaze for a moment.

“What?”

“…You—you know I’ve hurt a lot of people with them, right?”

“And now you’re helping me fix my makeup with them,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “Things can be of multiuse.”

He didn’t comment on it as you rubbed your lips together, then dropped his hand to beam at him. “Thanks!”

“No problem,” he managed to say with a small chuckle. “You are something else, you know that?”

“I’m taking that as a compliment,” you said happily but before you could thank him again, you noticed two guys staring at him, no doubt because of the claws. You could feel the sudden rush of anger sparking to life as you narrowed your eyes at them.

“What?” you snapped, making them snap out of the haze, exchanging glances. Logan raised his brows, his lips twitching as if he was amused. “What are you looking at?”

“Nothing,” one of them said. “Just claws—”

“Yeah, so?” you asked him as you took a step towards him but Logan put his hand over the back of your neck, gently pulling you back, looking like he was trying his hardest to keep a straight face and not burst into laughter as the guy stepped back. “What, do you wanna fight or something?”

“…No?”

“Then fucking act like it, how about that?”

“Your girl is aggressive, bro.”

“That she is,” Logan said, rubbing his thumb over the back of your neck. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

“It’s rude to stare, okay?” you told them over your shoulder as you started walking beside Logan. “No seriously like, didn’t your mom teach you anything? Call her, let’s see what she’ll say about you staring at strangers!”

Logan pursed his lips together to control the chuckle vibrating in his chest before he cleared his throat.

“Unbelievable,” you grumbled. “No seriously, even Theo knows not to stare at people and he still believes in Santa! That’s no excuse, what the fuck was that? You should’ve let me kick his ass!”

“I think you scared them off enough.”

“Good!”

“Do you always look for fights when you’re drunk?”

“I’m tipsy and I have zero tolerance for disrespect, Logan,” you pointed out. “I mean honestly, who raised these boys?”

Logan bit back a smile, then nodded in the direction of your building.

“Come on,” he said and you pulled out your keys, but then dropped them with a gasp. Logan picked them up, then opened the building’s door for you.

“It’s kind of like a handkerchief situation when you think about it,” you said happily as you climbed the stairs. If you weren’t so drunk, you would’ve noticed earlier that he was in fact in your building but it only dawned on you when you stopped in front of your apartment, then held your breath.

“Logan?” you asked, your heart beating faster at the possibility. “Would you like to come in?”

“I’ll just make sure you actually go to bed and not wander off to the street completely drunk,” he told you and you pouted your lips as he opened your door for you.

Stepping into your apartment, you yawned and looked over your shoulder as he closed the door behind him, then held up the fish tank.

“Where do you want to put it?”

“The kitchen is fine,” you said, pointing at the kitchen and he made his way to the kitchen while you swayed on your steps, making your way to your bedroom to fling yourself on the bed, kicking off your shoes. You heard the sound of water running before the footsteps came closer and you sat up in the bed, tucking your legs under you. Logan entered your bedroom, his hazel gaze focusing on you for a moment before he shook his head slightly and handed you the huge glass of water.

“Drink it.”

“Oh I’m not thirsty.”

“Drink it,” he repeated and you heaved a sigh, then took a sip of it before lowering the glass to your lap.

“I’m pretty sure those cocktails will knock you out but off the chance that you wake up still drunk, I need you to promise me—” Logan started but a tiny lint on the skirt of your dress caught your attention, making you distracted. You pulled at it with a frown but felt Logan tilt your chin up so that you could look up at him.

“Eyes on me princess, look at me.”

You could feel the warmth spreading through you as your eyes met his, pleasant goosebumps rising on your arms as you blinked up at him in adoration.

“Your voice is very deep,” you murmured and he smiled slightly.

“Did you hear a word I said?”

You thought for a moment, then shook your head.

“Don’t wander off to the street if you wake up in the middle of the night,” he said. “I need to get back to the institute but—”

“Or you could stay?” you asked, your voice soft in the quiet, dimly lit room and a shadow moved behind his hazel gaze, making your heart skip a beat. You knew he knew what you meant, and hope filled your system, making you feel nearly lightheaded at the possibility of him feeling half of the fire running through your veins.

You could swear there was some sort of invisible lighting crackling between you, making your breath catch in your throat as he traced your bottom lip with his thumb, making your eyes flutter close for a second before you looked up at him again.

“Logan…”

“That is not happening when you’re drunk, sweetheart,” he said, his voice low and you pulled your brows together.

“It could.”

“It won’t.”

 You bit inside your cheek, blinking up at him and he frowned as if trying to pull himself together. His knuckles brushed over your cheekbone softly before he withdrew his hand, then leaned down to press his lips to the top of your head, making you heave a sigh.

“Call me when you wake up tomorrow,” he said before he pulled back, then walked out of the room.

You heard the front door open, then close and you let out a whine, then let yourself fall back on the bed, pressing your fingertips on your lips. A giggle you couldn’t stop climbed up your throat and you lowered your hand, then took off your dress to throw it to somewhere in the room before grabbing the covers to pull them over your head, a huge smile curling your lips as you closed your eyes, sleep pulling you into its warmth.

7 - Heat Wave

[magellanicclouds]

Halo - An Essay: regarding waste management systems and devices for MJOLNIR armoured Spartans It has been a hectic sort of few weeks. Between work and getting sick again (for the fourth time already this year thanks to my crewmates who can't remember it's their duty to stay home when they're ill) I've been on the outs. I haven't had the energy for much, but I'm usually a pretty active person, so this has kind of made me loopy? Which feels like as good a time as any to talk at length about the concept of catheterizing Spartans for waste management in MJOLNIR.

Let me explain.

This Silly Post crossed my dash recently and I fully understand it is meant as lighthearted fun - we have fun here. But it also dragged out some strong thoughts I've had haunting in the back of my mind about this for years because I'm super normal about Halo, and have time on my hands and the right amount of sleep deprivation and medication on board. So I wrote 3500 words about it. And about Karen Traviss, who is pretty knotted up in this conversation, since she's the one who decided to start it back in 2011.

To preface, I'm not an expert, but I have worked in emergency medicine for 25 years, and been a fan of Halo for almost as long. I've had more of a lukewarm relationship with it the last decade or so if I'm being honest, but it will always have a home in my heart; I just think letting it under my skin like that in the first place may have made me feral and prone to biting. Thankfully, I can always happily rotate Fred in my mind until the heat-death of the universe, so that's nice. Anyway, full disclosure: the essay below contains discussion about medical devices, physical trauma, and I am sharing quite a lot of personal negativity about the Kilo-5 trilogy and Karen Traviss. That said, if you'd like to sit in on the length of what I'm about to yell into the sky about all this, you can find it under the cut. I love you.

Welcome to my dissertation.

Section 1 - The Relevant Background:

Equipping Spartans with urinary catheters weeded itself into the Halo universe in the 2011 book Halo: Glasslands, during a conversation between Spartan II Naomi-010 and ODST Mal Geffen. Glasslands was the first in Karen Traviss's Kilo-5 trilogy, and she is both the originator of this, and the only official Halo author or source to have used catheters specifically since. Some context: I don't personally like these books, or their author, or even her reasoning for why she chose to add this. My personal preference doesn't make something 'bad', and I'm not out to hurt any feelings. Kilo-5 isn't a total wash for me, there are some characters and ideas that I'd of otherwise loved to have seen explored through the lens of a different author, but these books felt smothered under Traviss's habit of always injecting her very loud personal voice into the narrative fabric. I think this is something that's fine to do in an original series, but doesn't really belong in an established third party IP. She bangs on about so much of her own narrow worldview and self-assured prejudices across the trilogy that still discussing them today creates division in the fandom, and sadly did a lot of lasting damage to a couple characters. But for the topic here, the dialogue that started all this cath chat came from Naomi-010, having idle conversation with Mal who asks her about bathroom breaks. “I’m catheterized. Another reason why that machine has to be so precisely calibrated. This suit plugs into me in a lot of places.” 'The Machine' she's referring to is a Brokkr assembly, which was introduced to the lore as a large mechanical armature used to get Spartans in and out of MJOLNIR. You can see them in action in cinematics from Halo 4 (+Spartan Ops) and 5.

One single mention, and it was big news. Traviss was naturally interviewed about it because of course she was - people can't help themselves but forget an entire novel and tunnel vision on 'but how pee pee?', and her answer has always irritated me. It's not in what she says, so much as what 'what she says' means in her voice. Traviss didn't answer it directly, but instead talked about how she likes to get into character's heads by addressing the mundane necessity of things that often go overlooked to expand a sense of familiarity with the character and their world. Sounds super reasonable, I know, but don't give her too much credit - that's not a quote. It's just me paraphrasing and honestly I was pretty generous in my wording. Probably because I agree! What bugs me about it, is if you've ever read literally any interview with her, or her personal musings about her writing process, you know there's a bit of an 'honesty' issue there. She's somebody who feels perfectly comfortable ignoring established character voices, traits, or histories to satisfy whatever roles she's reinvented for them, and too many others wind up as mouthpieces. How much are you really challenging yourself in finding characters' voices when most of them are just yours? And the part about familiarity with their world? I giggled a little. She doesn't care about their world, or their aesthetics, or their technology, or their medicine. Because she didn't care about Halo while writing these, and she's not vague about admitting that. It's a matter of pride for her to purposefully refuse to research those things, in the same way she disregarded Star Wars and Gears of War - she doesn't consider the effort to be a valuable part of her process. So instead she'll skim the foundation, gather some recognizable names, pick her targets, and trusts that her personal experiences combined with an outsider perspective will generate better content to seamlessly overwrite what existed. Cool, Karen. Annoying, but why bring all that up? We're here to talk about catheters, right? Well, the fandom for the most part begin and end their assessment of the dialogue at urinary catheters, but the whole quote implies so much more than that - "This suit plugs into me in a lot of places." We're not just dealing with a cath, but apparently with multiple additional external-to-invasive connections. Reader, this dialogue is a plinth to Traviss's bizarre refusal to research not only the franchises she's contracted to write in, but also just into the basic function and hazards of existing concepts that she wants to introduce, and all because she's convinced herself she's done learning about the world. Choosing to ignore the creative freedom of limitless potential in a future of technology that would be basically magic to us today, and instead degrade 529 years of advancement is certainly a take, but it's even more ridiculous to do it with a subject (The Spartan Programme) that is considered to be the peak of advancement in that future's setting. That's clownery, just like her alleged commitment to adjusting her perspective to suit a universe's world.

I want to close out this section with a question: Why is it that writers in the Halo space - both fan and official - cling so tightly to current-day modern concepts as if they'd still be perfectly relevant in 500+ years? Music, for example, apparently suffered a multi-century stagnation in lots of published and fanmade Halo media. Though my partner made a strong counterpoint about this to be fair: we still listen to music composed by Mozart. So there's an argument to be made there. Medicine though. There is way less latitude to embrace the classics there. It's been shown across several games, novels, and films to be sufficiently advanced well beyond anything we're currently capable of or even understand, so why undermine that and choose to drag it centuries backward? For clarity, I am not talking about what might be standard in the public or private sectors, nor the enduring things that'd be used by the public and military alike, like sterile dressings, syringes, supplemental oxygen equipment. Those are the Basics and they will be relevant to us indefinitely. But I'm talking about the UNSC. I'm talking about ONI R&D. I'm talking about Section Three. Retrograding tech and failing to address a necessity that applies to every living person in the Super Soldier Wizardry department makes my mouth flatten into a tight little line.

Section Two - Caths, and why this whole thing got written:

Indwelling urinary catheters, both urethral and suprapubic. There's a laundry list of problems here, but I've distilled it down to the three biggest when suggesting they'd have any safe practical application in Spartans: Care. Activity. Damage. There is unreasonable expectations of care and maintenance for caths with regards to people who can be on operations isolated for months at a time with no support of any kind and are often limited to carrying only what can be kept on their person. The level of extreme physical activity Spartans engage in on any perfectly normal day whether deployed or not is unfit for the stability and safety of a cath. And damage; obvious enough, but with this one I'll be taking a huge emphasis on concussive forces - explosions. Something Spartans are subjected to a lot. I'll be using the height of modern-day catheter quality as a baseline for this, since that's what Traviss felt was sufficient. Regarding Urethral vs Suprapubic, Traviss doesn't specify by name, but Naomi's comment in full reads to me that she's only catheterized temporarily while armoured, hence the assembly needing to be so finely calibrated. Foley caths are temporary urethral caths that would only supplement the urinary process while a person was armoured. Suprapubic caths however are surgically placed devices. They do need routine tube replacement to keep them clean, but unlike the Foley that just serves as an aide measure for an otherwise fully functioning bladder, suprapubic caths are usually placed in people with congenital bladder disfunction, or who've suffered injury or disease that left the bladder in poor health or failure. This type of access will always require a tube in place and this would be the exclusive method of urination - in or out of armour. My Big Three Concerns fit both types similarly, though there is some additional risks associated with urethral caths that I'll cover.

Care: Caring for an invasive cath is a not insignificant effort. They're prone to blockage, kinking, and bacterial growth. They're so frequently responsible for UTIs and kidney stones that these complications are just considered the Standard Fair for having a cath. Their need to be frequently replaced because of their penchant for bacterial growth is the kicker here - whole floral colonies sprout up in caths and can eek their way out into the body through compromised tissue and wreck havoc. They have no self-cleaning mechanism, and steadily deteriorate. Changing and replacing an indwelling cath is a procedure that requires additional supplies that'd have to be carried, and needs to be done in a practiced and clean setting; preferably medical. Granted, there are people who manage the removal and insertion of their own caths at home, but they still need to ensure a clean and safe environment while they do this. A Spartan could never be guaranteed that, nor would it even be wise to consider the vulnerability of removing so much armour to handle it. Modern day caths are recommended to be replaced every 30 days or so, with some models able to be in place for a few months at a time, but that's with constant daily care and cleaning; something that'd be unreasonable for a Spartan to maintain while entrenched who knows where for who knows how long, and without access to replacement medical supplies. Those endurance times between replacements are geared for the average public person who leads an average public life and care for their cath as directed and don't get into fist fights with Sangheili. Needless to say, the endurance time for the same device in a Spartan who leads a wildly different lifestyle probably cuts those times down to a third.

Activity: Modern day caths are designed to offer people the most utility and versatility possible. Both models are available for people who are bed-bound or have extremely limited mobility, as well as for those who are mobile, independent, and live out average lives. With regards to the latter, suprapubics are somewhat more common, if for no other reason than to reduce the Foley's higher risks of induction injury, but modern urethral caths also allow for regular movement and activity with a more reduced chance of becoming dislodged or damaged than they would have had a couple decades ago. But when I say regular activity, I mean going on a walk. Shopping for groceries. Doing basic house chores. Even light exercise and sexual activity can be managed with physician advisement and the appropriate precautions taken. Anytime a Spartan was fielded they'd have to be all the more overly-cautious about Movements Outside of Their Control during confrontations, maneuvers, ambush, environmental or vehicular incidents. Even when things go well there'd be too much risk involved. That said, traumatic decatheterizations happen more frequently than anyone would like, and I'm talking about regular old Joe Everybody. I respond to no less than a dozen of these incidents a year. Both types of catheter are held in place by a bulb balloon that's inflated from a port with around 10-30ccs of saline after the tube enters the bladder (30ccs would be more appropriate for better security of the line). Before removing a cath, the saline is removed to deflate the balloon and the tube is guided out - with a Foley cath, that means being guided out of the urethra. When a Foley cath is traumatically removed, the saline filled balloon - which is like five times wider in diameter than the average 6mm urethra - does a pretty devastating amount of damage on it's way out, penis or vagina; though a penile urethra has significantly more length to damage, and the penile meatus very typically is torn. These incidents run high risk of bladder hematoma as well, which requires urgent surgical intervention. The very worst traumatic decatheterizations I've responded to were all penile and had trauma to external tissue. Ever microwaved a hotdog a little too long?

Damage: How often are Spartans subjected to explosive and other concussive forces? Silly question - answer: a lot and often and unavoidable. And we know they still feel the powerful feedback. Despite shields and dampeners and a self-moderating gel layer, strong inertial forces are still felt through the suits. Across multiple novels we're given details about near misses and blasts, accelerated or uncontrolled falls, rattling their teeth, hampering their vision, hearing, or balance; they've been rendered unconscious and suffered internal injuries. The fact that most of these events don't flat out kill them is a credit to their armour and augmentations. For reference - when a person experiences explosive or concussive force from a distance enough to avoid separation of limbs, bisection, etc, the totality of their injuries can't and won't be seen externally. How they present on the outside is just the tippy tip of the iceburg - it's what's happened to them internally that you need to be concerned about. Cracked or fractured bones, torn musculature, arterial shearing, hollow organ rupture, cardiac and brain tissue bleed, to name some common ones, and this kind of trauma extends to all implanted devices as well. For example, rods and nails and other structural aids or replacements are much more resilient than your organic tissues, and can dislodge when tissues tear or rupture, damaging anything in their way like shrapnel. The fragile little balloon of a catheter will shatter when subjected to even relatively minor explosive force, so to even consider for a moment that this would be a viable piece of equipment for people intended to routinely be involved in explosive environments is beyond willful negligence. That there wouldn't be a better solution to the question of waste management - a necessity for literally all human people who make up the entirety of the Spartan branch, with the infinite funding of ONI R&D seems so stupid to me that I… well, that I wrote this. Because, friends - participating in active warfare is not cath-safe. The kinds of physical demands and forces on Spartan bodies are not cath-safe. The risks will never outweigh the benefits to this. Even while sealed in powered armour and a skinsuit tech layer, the very thought of Section Three engineers or Halsey or anyone involved in the development of MJOLNIR dismissing the glaring obvious failure of Spartans having any kind of externalized invasive devices is so unreasonably negligent that it could only be the brainchild of an author who's convinced that these characters are all actually just psuedo-intelligent government boogiemen who aren't as capable as they claim to be. But No. They are that capable, and they are that intelligent and the fact that they have a bottomless budget and deeply flexible ethics is literally what makes them so dangerous.

So if we have to address this, how do we do it? Apparently there was always an official answer for this. Former Franchise Development Director, creator of the Master Chief**, and extremely racist asshole Frank O'Connor weighed in on this in the same interview, where he almost immediate rejected and denied Traviss's catheterization claim and says that 'this sort of stuff' was the kind of thing he and the other creative heads at Bungie/343i talked and planned about all the time. So how does this work then, because we're invested now. According to 'ol Frankie's elegant input: they just pee freely into the suit. That's it. For clarity, he's talking about the skinsuit and not the MJOLNIR interior proper. He goes on to say that connectivity between body and MJOLNIR at all levels is fully noninvasive, but precise, and that it doesn't matter what kind of body output a Spartan introduces into the suit interior, because a hygienic valve system (??) will scrub it continually and collect all matter for recycling and reintroduction via capillary action powered by movement. It's not clear in what layers or intermediaries these mechanisms occupy, he doesn't break it down more than that. But that's the answer, and it did exist back when Traviss was penning Kilo-5.

Is this answer better than haphazardly plugging extension cords from actual organ systems into MJOLNIR interior? Yes. Like, leagues better by comparison, but also I still think it sucks. To me anyway. It's flat out gross as hell, which definitely fits the personal brand of a man who proudly overfed his cat and called himself "Stinkles", but also it just doesn't strike me as the kind of design strategy ONI would pursue for any of their assets. Beside it just being 100% torn from Dune's stillsuits, it's also missing that special brand of proprietary Section Three je ne sais quoi. There's layers upon layers of too-specialized equipment installed into these people for everything else, why skip this? A body function that should have been Point 3 on a 50 point list of 'stuff to manage'. Also though? It's a lot of freedom. This is just another easy opportunity to add yet another layer of dependence. Spartans are expensive equipment. It doesn't do to give them any fewer reasons to think they can ever walk away.

So anyway, I figured I'd take a crack at it. I came up with this while editing the last two paragraphs: [Waste management] - a fully internalized collection and processing device - lets say a cybernetic implantation - that entirely replaces the bladder. It has bio-organic lumens that interconnect it to the GI and Hepatic organs. The implant assists in accelerating the processing of gathering and refining waste materials with the help of nanobots that identify and redirect waste along the lumens of each system, plus they keep the implant clean and free of bad flora. All twice-processed waste gets refined a lot quicker and any water by-product of the process is refined and redistributed back to the organs along the lumens. None of the refined water is removed from the body for drinking, because that's an unnecessary step; it's already inside. (Drinking water would be the responsibility of a suit system more likely - like, sweat leeching in the skinsuit; refine, filtrate, purify, collect into a reservoir, and jettison the excess sodium. ) There is no 'extraction of other viable nutrient' from the remainder, it's been twice identified as waste. It gets catabolized and consumed by the nanobots as a fuel source, and no externalized waste is created at all while the Spartan is geared up. The implant doesn't always run like this - it only engages this way when the Spartan is wearing MJOLNIR, and when they're not, it just works like an out-of-the-box bladder. The intermittence of usage lets the organic organs truck along as usual, preventing risk of atrophy, and the Spartan can just use a bathroom like everyone else. I'm not a bioengineer, but I do like sci fi and I think all that sounds like something that'd be possible in this sandbox. And that's the real fun of it, isn't it? There's no way anyone today can anticipate what sort of gadgetry might be available 500+ years from now, especially in a fictional universe that includes military tech hybridized with reverse engineered alien tech.

I think it's fascinating when writers and artists shake loose and really grab the reins, and I love seeing the fruit of that labour in this particular tumblr community so often. We're not a huge Halo circle, but we're a passionate one, and if this essay leaves you with nothing else, I hope it will at least remind you to Go For It when you're writing your next fic or drawing your next piece, or composing, or sewing, or printing, or anything!

In Conclusion: Rest easy, friends.

Despite Traviss's word and even books that went to print, the official canon is that Spartans are not catheterized. If that's a bummer for anyone, canon can't stop you from writing whatever you want, but I do hope maybe you'll remember my reasoning for why it might not be the best idea? At least not for armoured Spartans. A Spartan, but they're laid up in hospital? Any non-Spartan personnel? Maybe you're writing in the public sector, a colony world or vessel? Sure - I'll bet caths are still plenty widely used. Why not? They're a blissfully simple and useful effective piece of equipment. It's just all about adjusting and adapting for practicality. Medical science, like any technology, adapts and evolves infinitely as we learn and discover new things. Treatments or drug algorithms I'd of used just last year have already undergone changes, and protocols are amended constantly. It's why a person 'practices' medicine; why a scientist is always a student. If questions like this or similar really need answering in your next work, remember: Give yourself the credit you deserve, and embrace the spirit of invention. Let my Cyber Bladder, by Sparklets be the candle in the window for you!

You may all retrieve your keys from the bowl and unsilence your phones. Stay safe and please text me when you get home. Thank you. ' u ' **Addendum: Former Bungie Creative Art Director Marcus Lehto is in fact the person who is most associated with the creation of the Master Chief.**

[vanguard-if]

hi everybody, making some grammatical fixes and cleaning up what i have of chapter one. im hoping to have the update out today or tomorrow after bug fixing ❤️❤️

this chunk of chapter 1 is ~3500 words, making Vanguard around 15.5K words total. i estimate it’s about 1/3 ish of the full chapter, so there’s still more to come (take this with a grain of salt). when completed, all ROs will be introduced. in this small chunk, you’ll get to meet one more RO out of the bunch.

this was so awfully delayed, but i think you guys will enjoy what i’ve written so far. i’d recommend playing from the beginning, as ive added some extra little tidbits and fixes. be on the lookout!!

[realjonahofficial]

Ruminations on boss monster SOUL power transfer and aging

So, uh. That one bit of Gerson dialogue. What did he mean by this???

Taken from Hushbugger's Undertale Dialogue Dump page on Github.

There are a few different headcanons/theories about how exactly this piece of lore should be interpreted – and, specifically, what its implications are regarding the children's growth rates in different scenarios. So, let's discuss it.

Personally, I'm REALLY not a big fan of the one that implies a boss monster whose parents die would be stuck as a child forever??? For instance, how would this theory of power transfer work with boss monster families that have 3+ children? Because like. Some couples having at least 3 children would be the only way for the population to to ever grow in size (unless we also headcanon that new boss monsters just spontaneously appear sometimes or something, which has absolutely no basis in canon lore). And by that logic, generations of this happening would eventually yield boss monsters who stop aging stupidly young. Not to mention, what about boss monster kids like Asriel, with no biological siblings? Would them getting both of their parents' SOUL power mean they go through super-puberty that turns them into double-mature adults??? So, yeah, not only would this all have pretty horrific implications regarding boss monster dating, but it'd also just be... really cursed worldbuilding that falls apart when you give it in any amount of serious thought. That's why I think it's a lot more likely that SOUL power transfer is simply that: a transfer of power.

I think Gerson's word choice is key here: "causing the child to grow" – rather than "mature", "age", or " develop" – "as the parents age" – as in, "into old age", becoming physically weaker due to giving up SOUL power.

I believe it's FAR more likely that, if a boss monster was orphaned, their growth would be stunted and their power would never reach its full potential – something more akin to malnutrition, rather than them literally being frozen in time; this would also happen, but to a lesser extent, to a boss monster who has to share their parents' SOUL power with more than one other sibling – and, inversely, a boss monster who's an only child would inherit both of their parents' power, growing far stronger than either of them separately by the time they become an adult.

This would also explain Asgore's absurdly high stats compared to Toriel's – like. ok. he has 8 times her total HP??? If we are to assume Asgore started out with similar stats to Toriel, plugging the numbers into the LV-based HP calculation formula the game uses for Frisk – 3/4 base HP + (1/4 base HP * LV) – gives us this equation: 330 + 110*LV = 3500. Solving for Asgore's hypothetical LV, then, gives us LV of roughly 29. Which might not sound that bad... until you realize the EXP required for getting to LV 19 is more than than all of the EXP it takes to get to LV 18 combined. Even assuming the EXP you get from killing just one human is equivalent to killing every monster in the Underground, while also assuming that the amount of EXP you need to level up no longer increases after you've reached LV 20 for some reason... it still wouldn't be enough to explain Asgore's dummy thicc HP bar after killing only 6 humans, if we are to assume his base HP is at all similar to that of Toriel. (Accounting for the possibility that monster history books lied, or at the very least didn't tell the full truth when stating that "not a single human SOUL was taken" during the war just leaves us with another problem: Toriel's also a veteran, and in fact seems a lot more comfortable with the idea of actively going to war as opposed to Asgore's approach of stalling for as long as possible, so if monsters actually were getting insane amounts of EXP by killing humans during the war, how come her stats are still so low? Killing even just a few humans would beef her up quite a bit; again, it's only once the numbers get higher that you see the sharp increase in EXP required to level up.)

I think Asgore was born into royalty, and Toriel married into it. Again: if a pair of boss monsters had only one child, that child would have the combined power of their 2 parents – now, let's suppose a family decided to do that for many generations.... with each new kid in such a family, the base power of the resulting offspring would grow more and more and more, wouldn't it? Perhaps one such family also has the means and prestige that allows them to easily find suitably strong partners for their kids, further increasing the rate at which the family's power would grow. (Also, the idea of Toriel originally being a commoner is further reinforced by the fact that the surname "Dreemurr" is confirmed to come from Asgore's side and, at least as far as we know, Toriel just... doesn't have her her own surname, as she switches to just going by "Toriel" after the two break up. Given that we only have about 3 examples of surnames within the Entirety Of The Underground, it appears that family names just aren't really a thing used within monster society, unless said family is really notable in some way).

...I may or may not be overthinking boss monster biology.

[fcble]

TW for stalking. Inspired by videos like the one in the source link.

Despite being closer to nugudom than BTS-level fame, Fable’s Haksu has been the victim of numerous sasengs ever since his debut. They range from more annoying than normal fans to people committing crimes, with a stronger emphasis on crimes.

MARCH / @haksubak

The most is known about Twitter user haksubak, who once posted her entire government name in a picture of her passport and a plane ticket to Seoul. To protect some of her privacy, her first name is Michelle, though she goes by March online. She’s presumably Chinese American, based on her Chinese middle and last names and American passport. As the biggest name in Fable’s English-speaking fandom, she’s seen as an authority on most things related to Fable. She’s supposedly OT8-biased, but anyone who’s ever followed her knows that she likes Haksu the most. She probably doesn’t even know Intak’s name. What most people don’t know is that her reputation was built on some very sasaeng-like behaviors. From the creation of her account in early 2021, she’s always known everything there is to know about Fable’s official schedules and some of their unofficial ones. She used to post about university performances and filming schedules before the fancafe ever did. No international fans ever fact-checked her on those tweets until she jumped on the Zenith Entertainment leaks bandwagon at the end of last year and correctly predicted all the stops and dates for Fable’s world tour.

March is most commonly associated with a GoFundMe scam from the end of 2022, where she posted about needing to pay for surgery for her dog. She surpassed her goal of $3500, and everything was fine for a while. A few months later, one of her friends fell out with her and posted DMs where March bragged about scamming other fans to extend her stay in Korea. She doesn’t even have a dog. She’s been exposed multiple times for both her sasaeng behavior and for scamming people, but her status as the most popular international Fable fan account continues to remain untouched. 

EUNMYEONG / @eun__myeong

One of the earliest sasaengs on the scene, Eunmyeong has been a constant and constantly disliked presence since Fable’s debut. Her account dates back to late 2018, and her username is an obvious play on the word 운명 (unmyeong), or destiny. It was also one of Haksu’s most used words shortly after his debut. It was his destiny to debut. It was his destiny to meet his fans. It was his destiny to piss Mingeun off so badly in their debut era that they didn’t speak on camera for two months. You get the point.

Since then, Eunmyeong has proven herself extremely dedicated. She attends multiple fansigns every era, and is probably a good percentage of Fable’s total sales. She’s posted pictures of the stacks and stacks of albums she’s purchased and the shreds of the inclusions featuring members other than Haksu. In the short promotional period of Fable’s last release, she attended all four fansign events. In comparative fansite photos, Haksu looks a little less pleased to see her each time.

Opening her Twitter media at any point subjects you to dozens of pictures of one of Haksu’s photocards held up in front of an apartment building at all times of day. She’s confirmed multiple times that the building she loiters in front of is Fable’s and offers to give other sasaengs the address for a certain price as long as they don’t bias Haksu. Most pictures of the inside of their building, all the way to right outside their apartment doors are her doing. She’s stated multiple times that she also knows what the interior of their apartments look like, but she’s never posted any proof. Not that we want to see any proof.

H.VEN / @chunguk97

H.ven, pronounced “heaven,” is among the most infamous of Haksu’s sasaengs. She first went viral in late 2020 for attending a fansign in a wedding dress. While it seems like that could be the action of a normal but intense and slightly deranged fan, she re-appeared in different wedding dresses multiple times over the next couple of years. She’s also attended all the stops across both of Fable’s world tours except one: the one where Haksu wasn’t there. She posted a picture of her collection of VIP badges, which could probably pay for a year or two of my college education. At the end of their tour, she was the main character of a now extremely iconic airport video of Andrew stepping in front of Haksu and shoving her aside. He shouldn’t have to do that, but I wouldn’t complain if he did it more often. 

As if all of that wasn’t enough, H.ven has also thrown hands with airport security not once, not twice, but at least three separate times. Other fan accounts have reported times where she was literally dragged, kicking and screaming, out of the airport. Oh to be a fly on the wall when that happened. During the pre-recording of one of Fable’s music show performances last year, she reportedly fist-fought a fan of another group for a spot close to the stage. According to hearsay, they were both removed from the venue and restarted their brawl the next day at the next pre-recording.

The mainstay of her Twitter account is an ongoing thread of her appearances in the background of official Fable content. She’s been featured in over half of Haksu’s vlogs since he started uploading them in 2019, usually standing around somewhere in the background with her face blurred out. She compiles screenshots and video recordings in tweets anyway. Her thread has gained enough infamy within the fandom to be compiled in YouTube videos running twenty to thirty minutes long.

RIA / @a2uz7ha3k1

With a keyboard smash username that strikes fear into the hearts of kpop stans and idols the world over, Ria is known for buying and selling phone numbers. Her journey as a Fable sasaeng around 2022, when she started offering Haksu’s cell number for sale. She was probably annoyed by H.ven in her mentions every day asking about him. She also offers Byeonghwi, Kiyoung, and Andrew’s numbers for lower prices. Her accounts usually don’t last more than a few days or weeks before being mass-reported by sudden alliances of different fandoms and then deleted. It does nothing to deter her. She hits her keyboard again and is back to selling phone numbers within the hour.

She seems to specialize in doxxing. She was the first to announce that Jaeseop moved out of the Fable dorms and in with his girlfriend, later adding on her full name, workplace, and parents’ names. Eunmyeong didn’t have anything to say about that and she spends all day outside of Fable’s building. Ria was also responsible for a leak of Haksu’s private Instagram that made few waves other than outrage over the invasion of privacy because everyone discovered he was pretty boring and he didn’t post anything too different from his public Instagram. Somehow this did nothing to curtail anyone’s interest in him.

[cookinguptales]

god tho so I'm researching Minoan sealstones for Fic Reasons and I stumbled across the Pylos Combat Agate, which is a sealstone (in other words, a seal made of carved precious stone or gold that was used to create a relief in clay or wax) that was found in a grave in Pylos (Greece) in 2016.

(all photos via the University of Cincinnati)

They used photomicroscopy to take that last photo, because this entire sealstone is 3.6 centimeters long, or about an inch and a half.

and it is

*deep breath*

3500 YEARS OLD

This thing is estimated to be from 1450 BCE.

Y'all, I am losing my mIND. Apparently, experts think that it had to have been carved using a magnifying glass? Which is nuts because they've never found any sign of anything like that from that period.

It really just goes to show how much we've lost from ancient history, y'know? We have our assumptions about technological abilities and art history, and then we find one little rock that totally upends everything we thought we knew -- and then you have to wonder how many equally beautiful works of art there were back then that were just lost to the ravages of time.

I mean, we know that fragile, delicate things break more easily! So god, like -- can you even imagine what must have existed back then that we don't know about? How many gorgeous things have disappeared without a trace?? because they were just never designed to be sturdy??? they were designed to be beautiful?????

Guys, I can't stop looking at this thing. Can you even imagine creating something like this with the technology they had back then? How long it would've taken? The skill it would've required?

This little sealstone is making me pace the halls, I'm so excited!!!

(and if you'd like to know more, here's an article from Smithsonian magazine about it, and here's the researchers' Palace of Nestor excavation webpage!)

[nostalgia-tblr]

PORN! \o/

There's Plot too, but I know why people click on E-rated fics, I'm not naive just pretentious.

Title: Convenient (3/?) Fandom: Loki (TV 2021), Thor (Movies) Rating: Explicit Pairing: Loki/Sylvie Wordcount: about 3500 for this chapter (8600 total so far) Additional Tags: Childhood Friends, Princess Sylvie/Servant Loki, Class Differences, Power Imbalance, Marriage of Convenience, Alternate Universe, Royalty, Secret Relationship, Period-Typical Sexism, (not sure what period it is though tbh), Sexual Repression, Masturbation, Wedding Night, Loss of Virginity, Unironic Use of the Word ‘Maidenhead’ (sorry), Unplanned Pregnancy, adding all the tags from the start just so you know what's involved before you commit

“I’ve got a plan,” she said, trying to stay calm as she prepared to draw him into her plot. “I can’t marry the prince if I’m already married.” She said this with a significant raise of her eyebrows, trying to get her point across without having to spell it out.

[connorswhisk]

How about a story where Javi reunites with Clementine and meets AJ and the rest of Erikson’s kids.

lol sorry this took so long! was working a lot this week and also this prompt itched my brain in just the right way so...have 3500 words of garcías and ericson's fluff xD

also on my ao3!

He hears about the Delta, the child soldiers and the boat and how everything went to shit. Rumors abound, they always will, and it’s not like communication is super efficient in the apocalypse. But every new detail of the story that Javi picks up on solidifies more and more the feeling in his gut that the Ericson kids’ mysterious leader is Clementine, the small boy at her side Alvin, Jr. He thinks he’s jumping to conclusions, seeing things where he wants to see them, but…

“It’s her,” Gabe says with conviction. The wispy mustache he’s been trying to grow sticks out dark against his upper lip - he’s proud it’s as thick as it is, even if it’s mainly peach fuzz still. “I know it’s her, Javi. It’s her and it’s AJ, and we have to go and see them.”

“It’ll be a dangerous trip,” Javi reminds him, but they both know that neither of them give two shits about that.

They leave Richmond on a cold, drizzly morning that feels silent and misty as the grave. Conrad, Eleanor, and Lingard see them off at the front gates - the rest of the council stepping up while Javi’s gone. David says goodbye, too. He’s grayer at the temples and lined in his forehead ever since they lost Kate, but when he hugs his son, Gabe hugs him right back.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” Javi asks him.

David smiles, sort of sadly, like he always does these days. He shakes his head. “Clementine’s never been my biggest fan,” he reminds them. “And I’m not exactly hers, either. Just…Just make sure that AJ is ok. That’s all I really want to hear.”

Javi nods. He hugs him. “No one loves that kid more than she does,” he consoles, and David nods back, resting his chin against Javi’s shoulder.

It takes them a day or two to make it, driving discreetly on the backroads and watching out for muertos or - usually worse - other people. Javi knows Ericson’s was once a school for little delinquents; he’s not sure if he’d classify Clem as a “troubled kid” necessarily, but he looks at Gabe and remembers that every kid is troubled these days.

Gabe raises his eyes to the wrought-iron gates and swallows, hard. It’s been years since he saw Clem last, and he hopes he doesn’t act like a total idiot in front of her.

They both sort of ignore the body of Abel, propped against the tree. They step up to the gates and Javi goes, “Hey in there!”

A mop of ginger hair appears from over the lip of one of the watchtowers. “Who are you?” Willy demands, Marlon’s old bow primed and ready in his hands. “What do you want here?”

Javi raises his palms, calmly. “We’re not looking for any trouble,” he says. “We’ve heard about this place. All about you guys, and how you took out the Delta. We’re pretty sure you’ve got a friend of ours with you that we haven’t seen in…a long time.”

“Bullshit,” Willy calls, sniffing slightly. “You don’t know anyone, you just want our stuff. No adults allowed.”

“I’m 17,” says Gabe. He rubs self-consciously at his upper lip. “If we could just - “

“I don’t care,” Willy interrupts, knuckles whitening on the grasp of the bow. “You’re strangers, and we don’t mess around with strangers. You’d better leave, or I’ll shoot you both full of arrows.”

“We have no weapons,” says Javi, raising his eyebrows at this menace of a 14-year-old boy. “We’re not being aggressive. You’d kill us, just like that? Defenseless?”

Willy’s eyes narrow. “You don’t know - “

“What’s going on?” A new head pops up, dark and full of curls and - 

Javi’s never seen the kid in his life before, but somehow, he just knows. “AJ?”

The young boy frowns. “How do you know my name?” he asks, sizing both Garcías up carefully, hand ready to stray for his gun and aim for the head if he needs it. “I don’t know who you are.”

Javi smiles - God, what a relief. “We’re friends of Clementine’s. Please. If you could just send her out here, she’ll tell you.”

AJ’s face is carved from hard stone. “Who are you,” he demands.

“I’m Gabe. This is my Uncle Javi.” Gabe scratches at his forearm, a bit awkwardly. “My dad…He had you for a while, when you were a baby.”

AJ says nothing. Have they blown it completely? All this travel, and for what? Javi desperately wonders what he can say to convince him they’re not a threat...

Gabe is simply terrified at the thought that the reason they haven’t seen Clementine yet is because she…isn’t around anymore.

But then AJ asks, hesitantly, “Your dad is…David?”

Gabe nods, enthusiastic. “Yeah. Yeah, David, that’s him. Is Clem in there? Is she ok?”

“I’ll be right back,” AJ says. He pats Willy on the shoulder. “I think you can put the bow down. They’re not going to hurt us.”

Willy complies, but he isn’t in any way happy about it. New people can never be trusted, even if they know Clementine. Lilly knew Clementine, and Lilly killed Mitch. If Mitch were still here, he wouldn’t like these new guys, either, Willy’s sure of it.

The gates creak open. “Ok, you can come in,” AJ says, and turns back without waiting for them to follow. 

And around the corner of the next hedge, propped up on a pair of crutches and beaming brighter than Javi’s ever seen her is - 

“ Clem! ” Gabe can’t stop himself from dashing straight for her, even if AJ looks alarmed and Violet, clinging to Clementine’s wrist, goes reaching for her cleaver.

She doesn’t have to use it; Clem opens her arms wide and pulls him straight into a tight hug.

“You’re so tall,” she says, amber eyes twinkling with tears. They never used to twinkle like that, not unless she was reminiscing about AJ or Lee; the look suits her. “I - I can’t believe that it’s really you. And your hair is so long now!” She smirks. “Though I see you’re still wearing the same ratty old beanie.”

“Shut up,” says Gabe thickly, eyes red, and then he looks down at the ground and he gasps, loud, because - 

“Holy shit,” exclaims Javi. “Your leg!”

Clem rolls her eyes. “It’s good to see you too, Javier. ”

Javi laughs, sort of crazed, and embraces her in a bear hug. “Sorry. I just…It’s been so long, and - what happened? When did it happen?”

“It’s kind of a long story,” Clementine says, and Violet snorts. That’s an understatement.

“I saved her,” AJ proudly proclaims.

“Yeah.” Clem smiles. “Yeah, he did.” She fixes her stance, shifting onto the makeshift prosthetic that Willy screwed together for her. “Come on, let’s sit. We can catch up.”

At the picnic table, Violet mutters to Clem, “I’ll be right back.” New people, she’s never been comfortable with them at first, even when the new person in question was once Clementine. Clem nods, brushes her fingers against the denim sleeve of Violet’s jacket. “Check in on L,” she says, and Violet nods and presses a kiss to Clem’s cheekbone before shuffling towards the school.

Gabe blinks, surprised. “Is she…like, your girlfriend?”

“Yeah.” Clem grins like an idiot, but maybe it’s all right to be an idiot when you’re in love. “Yeah, she is.”

“Oh,” says Gabe. “Neat.”

And he’s happy to learn that he one hundred percent means it.

Clem tells them about the ranch, Lilly and the Delta and Marlon and Minnie and James. She tells them about the bomb, Mitch’s Masterpiece, and  - she tells them about the bite, what exactly went down in the old barn.

Javi and Gabe tell her about Richmond. How things are holding up, new policies they’ve implemented, the fact that Jesus still swings by every now and then to visit and warm Javi’s bed for a few nights. “You got a girlfriend?” Clem asks Gabe, halfway joking, and Gabe shrugs and says, grinning, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

And Clem just laughs. She turns to Javi. “Do you still play ball? I’d ask you to teach me, only my balance is super fucked.”

“Swear,” says AJ.

Clementine smiles. “But maybe you could give AJ some pointers. Kid’s got crazy aim - I bet he’d make a sharp little pitcher.”

“Hey, I’d love to,” Javi says. “I’m sure we could rustle up a baseball or something like one from somewhere around here…”

“What’s a pitcher?” AJ asks. “Like those big jugs we drink water out of?”

“It means you get to throw the ball,” says Violet, returning to the table with Louis in tow. “It’s…fun. I used to pitch when I played softball.”

Javi, because he’s just got to get to know the person Clementine is dating, smiles at her. “That’s badass. Softball’s a great game.”

She blinks at him, surprised. “Yeah,” she says slowly. “It was.” She thrusts a hand, awkward and stiff, in front of herself. “I’m Violet. Sorry I didn’t introduce myself before.”

“Javi.” He shakes the hand - it’s cold and a little clammy, but who is he to mind? “This is my nephew, Gabe.”

Gabe nods at Violet, wordlessly. Violet hesitates for a moment - nods back at him.

Louis starts frantically tapping at her shoulder. “What’s up?” she asks him, eyes immediately jumping to read at his slender musician’s fingers. “Everything good, Lou?”

He points at Javi. JG, he signs excitedly, gesturing to his former hero animatedly. JG, he was famous.

“Yep,” Clementine confirms. “Javi here was a celebrity before all this shit happened.”

I’m Gabe, Gabe signs. What’s your name?

Louis’s eyes brighten. Louis, he signs back excitedly. Nice to meet  you, Gabe.

Surprised, Clem asks, “You know sign language?”

Javi laughs. “He and Mari would have secret conversations in the backseat of the van all the time. It used to drive me and Kate crazy. ”

And, like always when those two names are mentioned, the tension in the air turns a little sadder.

“He can still hear you,” AJ pipes up, matter-of-factly. “Lilly didn’t cut off his ears. Only his tongue.”

“ AJ ,” Clem hisses, but Louis shrugs.

What? It’s the truth.

“Jesus,” remarks Javi in despair. “You’re all still so young…none of you should have had to go through any of this.”

“Well, we did anyway,” Violet mutters under her breath, and Javi grimaces.

Marlon would have liked you, Louis says, gesturing to Javi. You were one of his favorite players.

Gabe translates for him, and Javi barks out a laugh. “Yeah, I guess if he likes gambling fuck-ups. Screw-ups, I mean,” he amends as AJ opens his mouth.

Marlon never cared about that. He thought you were the shit.

Javi smiles. “Good to know I still was to somebody.”

Come on, Gabe, Louis says then, smiling wide. I’ll show you my wicked piano skills.

Gabe doesn’t look to Javi for permission before he goes; nor does Javi expect him to.

A small whine sounds from somewhere near Javi’s feet. “Hey!” he exclaims, seeing the large pitbull watching him expectantly. He reaches out to scratch her between her ears - God, he can’t remember the last time he saw a pitbull. No one in Richmond keeps one.

“That’s Rosie,” Clem explains. “She’s a sweetheart. I guess she’s warming up to you quicker than she did with me.”

“I’ve always been a pretty big dog person,” Javi tells her, letting Rosie lick at his palm. “Man’s best friend, right?”

“Or woman’s,” says Violet.

“So, you really know these guys, Clementine?”

Ruby sits down at the table, Omar and Aasim in tow. Willy stays behind - someone’s got to keep on watch, and Willy still doesn’t trust these Garcías any further than he can throw them. Even if the tall guy with the beard seems like a total badass.

“They helped me out at a time when I really needed it,” Clem says, smiling. “I can 100% say that I wouldn’t be alive without Gabe and Javi.”

“Right, like you haven’t saved our lives more times than we can count,” Javi counters. He smiles at Ruby - fortunately, he comes off as friendly and not a complete creep. “And I’m sure she’s saved yours, too.”

“Definitely.” Aasim’s fingers tangle between Ruby’s, laid out together on the old wooden table-top. “We’d be screwed without Clem.”

“And without AJ,” says Omar as he socks the kid good-naturedly on the shoulder; AJ beams with pride. 

“You know, I never liked you while you were playing in the League,” Ruby tells him, no bullshitting. “Marlon and I would argue about it all the time. ”

Javi shrugs. “Fair enough. I didn’t exactly keep a great name for myself. Besides, none of that shit matters. Not anymore.”

“Swear,” AJ points out. “You all like to swear a whole fucking lot.”

Javi laughs aloud. “ Hey, ” Clem admonishes, but there’s no real heat behind the words. Ruby reaches over, flicks AJ lightly between the eyes. “ Be nice, ” she warns, smiling down at him.

Aasim departs to find Gabe and Louis in the music room. Louis is tapping out something vaguely Elton John-shaped on the keys when he gets there. Gabe watches, his head bobbing to the beat, a soft smile playing at the corners of his mouth. 

Louis stops playing, points out Aasim and signs his name for Gabe. Gabe nods at him. “I’m Gabe. I was just telling Louis how great it is that you guys have a way to play music. If there was a piano at Richmond, people would be all over that thing, I bet. Do you play?” he asks Aasim, curious.

“No way,” Aasim snorts. “Sorry. I just don’t have a single musical bone in my body.”

Louis rolls his eyes, grinning, before starting to twiddle out another slightly off-key ditty on the ivories.

“So then what do you do?” Gabe asks him, interested.

“I read.” Aasim shrugs. “The stuff I can get my hands on, that is. I keep a journal, too. Just about everything that goes on here at Ericson’s, like a log book, kinda.”

“Why?” asks Gabe. He’s genuinely intrigued. 

“Someone’s got to remember us, when we’re gone,” Aasim answers.

Gabe is silent for a moment. “I used to really like the Artemis Fowl series,” he says, and Aasim beams.

When Gabe exits the building, headed to dinner with Louis and Aasim, the first thing that happens is that a giant boulder of a dog slams into him and starts licking all over his face. 

“Rosie!” AJ says. “Down! Bad dog!”

Gabe only laughs, and goes to scritch her under her chin. Javi smiles - God, they gotta get some sort of pet back at Richmond for the two of them. His nephew seems like he would benefit from having another friend around - and hey, probably so would Javi.

Kate would have liked Rosie too, he thinks. She was always a dog person.

Gabe thinks, Dad would love this fucking dog.

“You can stay here tonight,” Clem tells the two of them. “I’d say you can stay as long as you like, but I know you’ve got your own people. And a couple extra mouths to feed wouldn’t exactly make things easier for us.”

Javi nods. “Speaking of food…what’s for eating?”

“Usually Omar makes some kind of soup or stew, ‘cause it’s easiest,” AJ reports knowledgeably.

“It’s easiest,” Omar echoes as he approaches the picnic table, arms laden with plates of dinner. “But it can get pretty boring after a while, don’t you think?” He sets the platters down, and grins. “I know it’s not much. Would have worked a lot better if we had actual corn husks instead of just leaves - I’m still working on finding a good alternative. But it’s just the way my abuelita used to make them.”

Javi can’t help - his eyes overflow with tears. “Dude,” he croaks, grabbing one of the fish tamales, unwrapping it, and groaning aloud as he takes the first bite off his fork. “ Dude. The last time I had a tamale was - man, I don’t even know!”

“I do,” says Gabe, grinning sentimentally as he takes his own food and passes the plate along to Louis. “They were the last thing abuelo made before he - “

“Oh.” The guilt, even years and years on, at not being present for his father’s death still eats away at him. “I didn’t realize.”  Reverberating around his ears, Javi can hear the horrible crack of his bat splitting open his father’s skull. 

He’s soon snapped out of this, though, when he realizes that Willy is perched across the table from him and staring, very intently, into his soul. 

“Can I…help you?” asks Javi awkwardly.

For a moment, Willy says nothing. Then he decides, very loudly, “You’re cool, Javi. You are hereby cleared of your status as a threat to Ericson’s and its people.”

“Willy, they’ve been cleared for hours, now,” Ruby says, exasperatedly. 

“Not by me!” 

Javi smiles. “Hey, no worries. Glad to know I get the seal of approval from the big man in charge.”

Willy beams, puffs out his chest.

“What about me?” Gabe asks him. “Do I pass inspection, sir?”

Willy narrows his eyes. Zeroes in. Scans the guy up and down, up and down. “…All clear,” he eventually decides. “Though the beanie makes you look like a total dork.”

“ Willy, ” Clementine chides. “Don't be rude.”

“You didn’t let me finish. ” Willy shakes his head. “You’re a total dork,  but …” He looks at Gabe decisively. “Mitch woulda liked you.”

“Who’s Mitch?” Gabe asks once Willy’s scurried off to the battlements again. “What did he mean by all that?”

“Trust me,” says Omar. He grins. “That’s the highest praise anyone can receive from that kid. Looks like we found Willy’s new favorite.”

“Then he really must not be so bad, if Willy thinks he’s cool.” At Gabe’s hesitant expression, Violet flushes. “That was supposed to be a joke. Haha.”

“Oh.” Gabe flashes her the thumbs up. “Good one, Vi.”

Violet’s lips twitch into a small, quiet smile. “… Thanks, Gabe.”

Then someone tugs at Javi’s shirt sleeve. “Can I…ask you something?” AJ says, his voice so low, it's nearly a whisper.

Javi leans down to better reach his level. “What’s up, buddy?” he questions, slightly concerned. “Do you need Clem for something?"

“If I needed Clem, I’d be talking to her,” AJ says bluntly, and Javi shrugs. “No, it’s just…Your brother. David. I wanted to ask you, not Gabe, because…David is his dad. He might see him different because of that.” AJ blinks, his big brown eyes so, so serious. “Clem says that David took me from her. But…she also says he watched over me while she was gone.” He swallows, shuffling his feet in the dirt below. “I know he did bad things. But…do you think he’s a bad person?”

“No,” Javi is able to tell him with complete honesty. “My brother’s been through a lot. He’s lost a lot, and he doesn’t always think before he acts.” He smiles, soft. “Whatever he may have done in the past, he’s much, much better now. And I know he’ll be so grateful to know that you’re doing all right.”

AJ nods, solemn. “Ok. Thank you. That’s helpful.”

“Hey,” Javi says. “No problem at all.”

“All right all right all right,” announces Aasim loudly as Louis starts to shuffle a deck of cards back and forth between his nimble fingers. “Who’s up for a game of War?”

Gabe grins. He sits down next to Clementine, Violet on her other side. “Count me in for sure.”

AJ pouts. “War is only for the older kids. Usually when they play it, I go off and draw.” He fixes Javi with a scrutinizing stare. “Do you know how to draw?”

“Stick figures.” Something nudges against his knee. “Hiya there, Rosie-girl. What’d you find?”

The pitbull snuffles, pleased with herself. Into Javi’s open palm, she drops a faded, dirt-stained ball.

Javi grins. “We could draw,” he says. He pulls his bat from its usual spot against his back. “Or…I could teach you how to play baseball.”

AJ’s face lights up like the Christmas trees he’s never once seen in his life. “Let’s do that,” he exclaims. “Clem, we’re playing baseball!”

And together, in the twilight shade of the former Ericson’s Boarding School, that’s exactly what they do.

[babyblue711]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you for the tag, my darling @itbmojojoejo 💙

1. How many works do you have on ao3(or masterlist)? - I've only ever uploaded to Tumblr. I have 4 stories total (but all have multiple parts).

2. What’s your total ao3/tumblr word count? - I literally never counted until now - 66,700 (plus an additional 3500 in the works)

3. What fandoms do you write for? - Mostly just Ewanverse (Salad Days, High Life, and TLK) but I have recently dabbled in HOTD (Modern AU Aegon & Aemond)

4. Top five fics by kudos - I'll just do top 3 with the most notes since I don't have many fics: Temptation Part 1 (Ettore/High Life - DD;DNE), Surrender Part 1 (Aegon Modern AU), Redemption Part 1 (Will- Salad Days)

5. Do you respond to comments? - YES! It is the BEST part of writing!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? - I'm a sucker for happy endings. Temptation was definitely angsty but the ending of Part 2 of Surrender could also be considered a different sort of angsty (wiggles eyebrows).

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? - Definitely Redemption (Will - Salad Days) but I'd say Devotion (Osferth - TLK) is a close second.

8. Do you get hate on fics? - No, I think I would crumple and cry if I ever did!

9. Do you write smut? - My fics are porn with little plot 😈

10. Craziest crossover? - Haven't considered but now you got me thinking!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? - I sure hope not.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? - Not to my knowledge

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? - No, I think that would be difficult to blend creative ideas but kudos to those that do it!

14. All time favorite ship? - Call me crazy but I happened upon the most beautifully written fic on ao3 with the most unusual pairing but I instantly fell in love - Aemond x Aethelstan (TLK): A Red Dawn Rises by Avonne. Give it a read!

15. What’s a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will? - I literally fell hard for Aethelstan when writing Devotion and I tried my hand at writing for him. I do not think I will finish his story but I dearly love the character.

16. What are your writing strengths? - The smut! It comes most naturally despite never writing smut (or anything actually) until I published my first fic last summer.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? - Comprehensively telling a story without needing a ton of words to do so. I am working on keeping my fics shorter while still conveying a complete story without going overboard!

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language? - I like it but I also need to know what they are saying so I can follow along.

19. First fandom you wrote in? - Ewanverse - Will from Salad Days

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? - Devotion is my personal favorite, there's just something calming and sweet about Osferth and his story flowed from my brain effortlessly.

No pressure tags for funsies/to help you procrastinate (sorry if you've already been tagged): @myfandomprompts @arcielee @sylasthegrim @thekinslayed @theoneeyedprince @inthedayswhenlandswerefew

[justkending]

Finding Memories. Chapter 17.

Series Summary: Waking up with little to no memory of her past, and being saved by a group of individuals who call themselves heroes, sends a long time captive for a whirlwind trying to find some form of grounding in this world she quickly learns runs on chaos. But she’s not the only one trying to figure out her forgotten backstory. Bucky Barnes, along with the other Avengers, can’t help but sense that there is a lot more to the whole situation than a diagnosis of amnesia. Her background slowly starts to come forward in pieces of her past and hidden information discovered. Who is she? And why was she in the room they were meant to destroy?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced Reader 

Word Count: 3500+

TW: Torture, cussing, gore, PTSD, triggers.  

Chapter 17:

As soon as the two walked into the training room, Wanda and Nat were already there pacing and growing nervous with each passing second.

"Oh, thank God," Nat sighed, dropping her head in relief and walking towards them. "We heard what happen when we were flying back."

Wanda analyzed Y/N and knew instantly how scattered she was mentally and emotionally.

"We're ok, but I'm more worried about the why in this whole situation," Y/N was quick to the punch. Not leaving any space for questions and harping on what they couldn't go back and change.

"We saw the footage," Nat spoke up, letting her know she didn't need to worry about briefing them. "Nice block by the way. Don't remember something that powerful coming up in practice."

She had a sense of pride in her voice, and Y/N was happy to see someone show some casual reactions to it all. She needed some form of normalcy.

"That powerful?" Bucky spoke up, his eyes showing confusion. "Meaning, you've done something like that before?"

Y/N turned to him, where usually she would be bashful and ambivalent in this kind of situation, it wasn't the energy she had stepped into as of the last couple of hours.

"I'm sorry I didn't get to tell you about everything we've discovered in our time of training. I was seconds from telling you everything when that man appeared," she explained promptly.

"Oh, you were?" Nat smirked some, but the two didn't pay mind to it.

"So a lot of the things we're about to talk about are going to be..." she hesitated not sure how to word it. "Startling?"

"Why do you say that like a question?" Bucky tilted his head some, slightly worried.

"I don't know how you're going to take it, but just promise that we've been safe about it," she put her hands up and walked back to Wanda and Nat.

"How did you do it?" Wanda asked. "We've only been able to muster up a fraction of what you did."

"Yeah, nothing big like that has happened since the day I threw a hit at you," Nat added.

"Wait, a hit?" Bucky spoke up, but they ignored him and continued on with their talk.

It was likely there were going to be a few concerned interruptions from him as they kept discussing their adventures together.

"I don't know. All I could think about was keeping Bucky safe, and the next thing I knew, there was an entire shield of energy in front of us," Y/N answered.

"How did you see him?" Nat asked, crossing her arms as she concentrated on the details.

"I just did. He didn't look like you guys look now. Something about his outline and lighting around him was different, but he wasn't hard to miss," she thought out loud.

"And the gun? How did you stop it?" Wanda asked now.

"Same kind of instinct when Nat tried to punch me."

"I'm sorry. Punch?" Bucky was wide-eyed listening in on everything.

"It was for an experiment," Y/N brushed off trying to emphasize how little of a deal it was at the moment, but Bucky couldn't seem to accept that.

"Experiment, huh..." He tried to hide his concern. "Yeah, makes total sense," he nodded, placing his hands in his pockets. "Punching people as an experiment is something Steve used to do too," he mumbled under his breath. "Look where that got him."

He stepped a few feet out of the circle realizing all questions would need to be asked at a better time because he wasn't going to be able to bounce back from the quick and nonchalant answers right now.

And knowing Nat and Wanda, the new information was likely to become more offhanded and stressful if he thought about it too much.

"You seemed to do everything in a way like it was natural. Did it feel that way?" Wanda asked, knowing the personal side of things.

"That's a good way to put it I guess," Y/N nodded, looking down as she tried to think back to the feelings and thoughts that came to her at the moment. "Putting the barrier up, or whatever that was, felt like second nature. The instinct was without hesitance and it was like I trusted myself to know what to do even if I don't ever remember being able to do something like that."

"You did a hand gesture," Nat pointed at her hands, Wanda and her following her finger. "Was that what made him appear?" Y/N looked at her hands carefully. "I know a thing or two about muscle memory and that looked like a product of that."

Bucky turned back, still giving them space, but watching as Wanda and Y/N studied her hands carefully.

Y/N never responded to Nat's question or comment, but instead looked at her hands as if they were some kind of bomb. Not in fear that it would go off, but in fear at what all it could do.

"I have a suggestion, but we may want to clear the room," Wanda spoke up looking at the two in front of her. "And by clear the room I mean, you two need to watch from outside." This time her look was pointed to Nat and Bucky.

"I don't think we should-" Bucky started when he caught onto what she was getting at, but before he could finish the thought, Nat was already turning him around and shoving him to the exit.

"Have fun. Don't blow up the place," Nat said as she walked to the doors with the soldier in front of her resisting.

Once on the other side of the industrial Stark tech that acted as a protective screen for the non-magic wielders, Bucky didn't stop glaring at Nat.

"I can feel your eyes, but I'm not getting into this with you right now," the redhead spoke up as she stared straight ahead. Seconds passed and he never let up on his stare. "You're being a grumpy old man. Stop it."

"I'm trying to keep her safe."

"Yeah?" Nat sassed, turning to him. "Then congrats you're already doing that." Bucky lowered an eyebrow at the angry compliment.

"What-"

"She's not hurt and she's alive right?"

Bucky rolled his eyes knowing this talk.

"Don't start with that."

"Oh I'm just getting started with that," she mocked his voice knowing he need the bullying some. "And she's currently in the room with the person best capable of keeping her safe given the scenario of invisible men and siren shriekers." The hint at the information only Tony and he knew of at the moment made the surprise in his eyes very evident. "Yeah, I know about you're little mini-team meetings with Stark. Thanks for letting me in on that by the way."

"It happened last night and you were headed out on a mission!" Bucky defended, now acting more like an angsty teen than a grumpy grandpa.

"Oh, did Stark not supply you with some way to communicate with people that aren't 5 feet in front of you? I think there's a storage closet around here somewhere with some of the most highly intelligent technology in the world to help you with that next time."

Bucky rolled his eyes and turned to the screen knowing he was in the wrong this time and wasn't going to dig himself into a bigger hole.

She followed suit and knew she won and turned back to monitor where Wanda was instructing Y/N on her idea.

"Oh and by the way. There better not be a next time. I'll kick your ass if there is," she said casually.

Back in the training room with luckily some of the more reinforced walls, Wanda had stepped Y/N through a few things she wanted to try to see if she could dig deeper into the powers she used to uncloak the man.

"Ok, I'm going to make that body dummy seem to disappear. I want you to try and remember the movement and thought process you did earlier. Don't force it and don't try and think too hard. It's all about the intentions," she noted.

And in the distance, Wanda did a twist of her hand and the body dummy vanished from sight.

Y/N looked at her apprehensively before taking a step and looking at her hands.

She thought back to the hand gestures. She connected her wrist, left her palms open, and twisted them to the right.

And the mannequin seemed to appear some, but it looked to only show when her hand scanned it before vanishing again.

"Try again. You have the motion, but you have to imagine it reappearing too," Wanda coached.

Y/N used her notes and took her hands apart before starting over. She took a breath before connecting her wrist again and following the motions. Now using the motion without thought, she concentrated on what the mannequin looked like and where it stood.

The dummy appeared and showed it had never left.

"Ok, so you're a quick learner," Wanda grinned impressed.

_____________________________

On the other side of the glass, Bucky was frozen trying to process the things he was seeing. He had known her powers were going to come up eventually, but watching someone who seemed oblivious to her abilities beforehand, go to doing what she was doing now... He couldn't seem to comprehend it.

"You guys knew about this?" Bucky asked.

"We knew something happened to her the night at the art show. She came to me that night. Was terrified that she turned into another person and couldn't remember what she had done to that girl that ended up in the wall."

"Another person?" Bucky was upset he didn't know that.

"She blacked out. A common thing with PTSD as you know," Nat shrugged. "Especially since she hadn't done something like that before."

"What'd you do to help her?" Bucky asked, for personal reasons.

"Trusted she could make a decision for herself," Nat gave her signature smirk. "All I could do after was lend support."

"You say that like it's an easy thing," Bucky chuckled, feeling at a crossroads with himself.

"Why wouldn't it be?" Nat shrugged unbothered.

"Because sometimes people aren't looking out for themselves in their choices. They could end up hurt," Bucky responded.

"And either way is it your life's mission to tell them they can't do it their way," Nat asked.

"It's not my life's mission," Bucky snarked.

"Then move on. You can give people guidance and advice, but they don't have to take it. Again. It's their. Choice."

Her wording made it seem like a common knowledge statement that he was just learning.

"She's been hanging out with you too much," Bucky shook his head with pursed lips and looked back to Y/N and Wanda.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she huffed, fake offended.

"The conversation I had in the hall with her while fighting her to get some rest before coming here, sounded like a conversation you and I would have. Not me with her."

"Oo, so the two love birds finally had their first fight. How sweet?" she gushed in an exaggerated way before giving him a shit grin.

"Love birds? -" Bucky started to question.

"Glad to know that I'm rubbing off on her. I'm all for a woman learning to say Fuck Off to men," she nodded in pride. Bucky gave an offended look. "I mean all men deserve at least one or two Fuck Off's now and again. No one's perfect," Nat shrugged.

___________________________

"Ok, so we have the disappearing and reappearing down. And apparently, you can undisguise anything without knowing what it looks like," Wanda listed the few fields they explores. Can we try something a little different?"

"What kind of different?" Y/N asked curiously.

"Less hide and seek and more..." she balanced her hands back and forth. "Can you use the force?"

Y/N turned her head impressed with knowing the reference thanks to movie nights.

"Are you quoting Star Wars right now?" Y/N grinned.

"Yeah, I just wanted to lighten the mood some," Wanda grinned back. "I'm sorry you're going through this." Y/N raised her hand ready to say something, but Wanda already knew. "I know, I know. I shouldn't be apologizing, but I hate that you have to rush into learning about this for this reason and you can't just explore it for yourself."

Y/N had been thinking about that too. She had been gifted with over a week of time not worrying about people out to get her. She had been able to heal and learn about herself again at a pace that seemed comfortable and safe.

And ever since the museum incident, she's felt like her pace quickened and she can't seem to catch her breath.

In a perfect world, she would have been able to have all the time she needed before going up against her demons. She would have time for full growth before getting justice for herself.

Although, in the perfect world she could have no demons and she wouldn't have the trauma that hangs over her like a cloud.

"It's something I'll have to come back to, but for now I need this more," she responded.

It was a harsh way of thinking, but she wasn't seeing many rainbows in the hurricanes she was being thrown into.

"Well, step by step then. We are going to figure this out," Wanda smiled softly. "Now as for the force," she raised her hands in her own practiced manner. "I want you to try and lift something over on that weight rack."

Y/N turned to where she pointed and carefully yet casually, Wanda set the example of what she meant.

As Y/N raised her own hands, nothing happened immediately. She closed her eyes trying to concentrate and Wanda was quick to correct her.

"Don't actually force it. Focus on the intention and visualize it."

Y/N relaxed her tension some and shook her head out of her nerves.

"Focus on your breathing."

She followed her instructions and soon she was relaxed enough to try again.

And one of the weights lifted in the same kind of purple haze she had seen most of her energy form into.

In shock, she dropped the weight and they both turned to each other with mouths wide open. Wanda let out one single HA and they both squealed before running to each other and hugging.

"Look's like you guys figured something out," Nat's voice was heard and they turned to the two.

"Look like Y/N has a lot more tricks up her sleeves that we need to discover," Wanda smiled nudging her shoulder while in a side hug.

"It's impressive," Nat smiled. "Right, Bucky?" she elbowed him behind her and he let out a grunt not expecting the hit.

"Jesus," he huffed, giving her a small shove back. "But yes. That was," he looked to Y/N who was waiting for his response with a small smile. "Impressive. Really impressive," he smiled, happy to see that she was happy.

"We still have a lot to discover, but clearly we're going to make some pretty fast progress," Wanda jumped in, squeezing her into her side one more time before letting her go.

"How about we go grab some lunch and we can talk about anything else we need to first," Nat offered. Bucky looked at her knowing she was mainly asking for him for his sanity of keeping Y/N taken care of.

"I think lunch is a good idea," Wanda agreed.

Y/N agreed and therefore Bucky agreed and they went to the kitchen to carry on with their personal investigation.

As Wanda prepared some easy and fast chicken noodle soup for the group, Y/N continued to debrief them on what happened.

"So same thing when you kept him restrained?" Nat asked, handing Wanda a spice and following Y/N's story. "You just knew what to do?"

"I guess," Y/N shrugged.

"Did you know the man?" A new voice entered the space.

Everyone turned their head to the entrance of the room and in walked Tony with a file in hand with a look of intrusivity proudly on his face.

"What?" Nat asked harshly, not caring for the tone he was bringing to the conversation.

"I said, did you know the man? Y/N," he smiled, but the people who knew him best knew it wasn't a genuine one.

She looked to Bucky, furrowing her eyebrows at the questioning, but he was too busy staring daggers at Tony.

"We're trying to have lunch. This can wait," he said sternly.

"That's fine. You guys go ahead and have your lunch. I just need one answer to my one question and I'll be on my way."

He was putting on a show for Y/N trying to make her think it was a simple question he needed for research and not as much as the paranoid micromanager he was trying to be.

"And I said it could wait," Bucky repeated, never turning away from him.

"It's fine, Bucky," Y/N said trying to assure him that it really was by putting a hand on his shoulder and leaning so she could see Tony better. "It's nice to see you again Tony," she smiled, throwing him off some.

He sent her a nod with pursed lips, not expecting a kind reaction to his harsh question.

"Can you repeat what you said?" she asked. Bucky, Wanda, and Nat were all confused at what was happening but let it play out anyway.

Tony furrowed his eyebrows at her question but asked it again. Now having to say it a third time, the tone was much less demanding and actually a question.

"The man out there. The one you Obi-Wan Kenobied out on the trail. Was that someone you knew?" he asked, but with much more curiosity than fury.

"Truthfully, I barely got a look at him at first," she shrugged, placing her hands on the table. "But I snuck the file on him and caught a peak at his name and picture."

Bucky turned to her shocked.

"How did you sneak a file?" he asked alarmed by this news.

"Someone was looking at it while they were watching me downstairs earlier. They laid it down for a few seconds when they got called to fix something," she shrugged. "I got a good look at the picture and saw the name."

"And did you know him?" Tony was walking to the counter now, realizing this conversation wasn't going to be the fight he prepared for.

"I'm not sure," she said a little disappointed in the news herself. "But something in me told me to do exactly what I needed to do to restrain him. It was like a memory I guess. Muscle memory kicked in and that makes me think that I do know him."

"Or you've fought a lot of assholes in your life," Nat hummed, biting a carrot.

Everyone ignored her but Wanda who gave her a small hip bump.

"Do you think if I brought you down to the holding room you could get an in-person look and see if anything clicks for you?" Tony asked.

He knew the question would be pushing a boundary, but he wanted one person to answer and it wasn't the man staring at him as if his thoughts alone would disintegrate him.

"Actually-," she started.

"No. Nuh uh. Not happening," Bucky shook his head and raised his hands. "She's not going down there, Stark."

Tony completely ignored him already knowing what his answer to the question would be, hence why he didn't direct it to him.

"What do you say, Y/N?" he asked, emphasis on the "you".

"I think that-" she started again.

"It's too soon," Bucky shook his head, not even considering the ideas going around. "It hasn't even been 5 hours since everything happened."

"Barnes," Nat interrupted and Bucky snapped his attention her way. Her look alone was one of annoyance and disappointment. "He's not asking you. It's not your choice," she reminded him of their talk from earlier.

"But-" he started again.

"Butts are for kicking," Nat shook her head and raised an eyebrow at him, silently communicating to him that his was going to be the next one kicked if he kept talking.

He wanted to argue. That's all his brain wanted to do... But he knew he was wrong. He knew Nat was the voice of reason when he wanted to continue to protect her his way.

He let out a deep breath and waved the conversation on, sitting back in his seat for Y/N and Tony to see each other better.

Y/N took note of him letting her have control over the situation and was thankful. Though she sent her thankful smile to the redhead that helped in the threat.

"He won't see you since you'll be on the other side of the glass," Tony explained. "And you don't have to even talk to him."

"You don't have to convince me," she said with a careful breath of her own. "I think I need to see for myself who he really is."

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[captawesomesauce]

For the asks, 15, 24, 45!

15 Do you have any houseplants? Do any of them have names?

Huh…. you know… I don't. In fact, I don't think I have ever had a house plant in my entire life. Mom had outdoor plants, Sally had a little herb garden, and that was it. It's never really been a thing for us.

Are you a good driver?

The simple answer is yes.

When I was learning to drive, I only went out with an instructor 3 times and then took my test. He said after the 3rd time, I was ready. Of course, the first time we drove together, we almost died… so… ya know.. there's that.

My truck was an old 87 S-10, so about 10 years old, and over 100k miles on it. It was an old work truck and had been beaten up hard. So I'm driving it for the first time with the instructor, and we're doing about 45-50 approaching a T intersection with a lot of cross traffic. The problem is that when I went to press on the brake, the accellerator sunk to the floor and wouldn't come up! It was STUCK down and we were speeding up faster and faster and the intersection was getting closer and closer! I tried to dislodge it with my toe, I put all of my weight on the brakes, and even the instructor tried reaching down to grab it with his hand, but there just wasn't enough time to really do anything!!!

I ended up going wide right and yanking the wheel left, through the red light, and missing everyone coming crossways!!! Tires screeching and truck shaking the whole way!

As soon a we were going straight, he had got the pedal free and all he said was "Good job, and make a right at the next light." Totally fucking calm about it.. and that's what I did.

Next time we went out we worked on parking and the final time was freeway driving. After that I took the test lol.

But I still hate driving, absolutely despise it. Short distances, long distances… major hate. I always have. I never even wanted to get my license, but that wasn't an option lol.

I've driven a lot of different things over the years… a big Chevy 3500 crew cab, an old 87 and later 2003 Chevy S-10, a corvette for a while… but I love my Murano. I love the warning/safety systems, the radar cruise control, the radar side warnings, the automatic braking… but most of all I LOVE THE 4 WAY CAMERAS!!!!!

JFC, I'll never buy a car without them again. They make parking and driving so much easier.

When W and I first met, one of the things that made her feel really comfortable with me is that I drove safely and while not slow-as-fuck, I'm not big on going too high over the speed limit. The rule of never go faster than you're willing to pay for always rings true! lol. So I go with the flow, get there when I get there, and tend to not be too risky with the suicide lefts we have here in SoCal. I don't mind waiting for the next light, and if I can't merge in time, I am ok with exiting later if I have to. It is what it is.

Do you have good handwriting?

BWAHAHAHHHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA HAHAHAHAHA OH FUCK HAHAHWHAWAHAHHAHWAAAAAAAAA

That's a good one.

I'm dysgraphic! I can barely write at all!!!

Holding a pen/pencil, even the special ones for people like me, causes intense pain in my hand and arm and headaches like you wouldn't believe.

For those who have never heard of dysgraphia, it's the little unknown brother to dyslexia. Dyslexic's have trouble reading, we have trouble writing and with fine motor skills.

In my case, I have to spend every bit of energy I have just willing my hands to create the letters, one by one. In school, back in the day, and before I was diagnosed, I would spend so much effort writing the first few words of a sentence, that I would lose my train of thought, or lose my place in the thought so that you have the start of one sentence, and the end of a sentence way later in what should have been a paragraph. My letters rarely are uniform in size/shape, often mixing capitals and lower case for what ever is easier to write, and of course the biggest issue is that I don't actually control my hands like y'all do. They LITERALLY have a mind of their own. I want to write an E… maybe I'll get a Q. Why? No idea.. hand wrote a Q.

So yeah, it's a bitch!

It was made worse by the fact that my mother was a legal secretary and believed good penmanship was CRUCIAL to success in life. Oof. She made me practice and practice and practice… I still have a callous on my finger from it. All it did was make me hurt like hell. Hand pain, arm pain, headaches… she just said keep writing!

That … wasn't fun at all.

In fact, it wasn't until I started college that I was diagnosed! I even went back to my HS teachers and asked them why didn't they say anything and they all said the same thing, "We thought you knew!!!"

Well, I didn't. lol But that's why I gravitated toward computers so much as a child and could type over 100wpm at an early age.

But yeah, no… my handwriting is atrocious and if you ever saw my signature, you'd laugh.

Thanks @southcarolinagoddess for the questions!

[nowoyas]

Edible Arrangements 38

First - Prev - Next - M.list - Read on Ao3

A/N: no news from the front!

Summary: Izuku's nightmare scenario, and the silver lining. For just a moment, he catches a glimpse of you among the despondency.

Warnings: none as far as I'm aware!

Word Count: ~3500

"Dr. Midoriya, it's a pleasure to meet you! Thanks for agreeing to meet with us on such short notice." Ochako smiles bright, sticks out her hand to shake.

Izuku goes through the motions of it all. "N-no, thank you!" Dammit. Stop stuttering. "Please, have a seat, both of you.”

"Thank you!" Ochako sits, and then gestures kindly to the ghost in the room. "[name]?"

[name] looks up for the first time. Izuku's not sure what hurts more—the complete blankness on their face, or the total lack of recognition. They shuffle to the chair beside Ochako and plop down.

"S-sorry for the mess, by the way! It's been crazy, taking over for Dr. Hakamada while keeping up with my own classes, so I'm afraid I haven't really had the chance to settle in to the new office yet! But I promise, it really is nice to meet you both!"

Shit.

[name]'s hollow eyes snap up to look at him, and for the first time since they walked in, he sees a flicker of emotion. Wounded.

Fuck. He should know better than to lie in front of them.

Their eyes drop to their lap, and one hand reaches out to Ochako's sleeve. "Ochako," they whisper, just loudly enough to be heard. "I don't want to be here. He's lying."

Ochako's attention snaps to them immediately. "[name], honey, I'm sure he's just stressed out," she whispers back. "It's got nothing to do with you."

"Um, i-is everything okay?"

Ochako flashes a brilliant smile. "Yeah! [name]'s just a little over-worried about you possibly disliking her. But you're just stressed out, right?"

He nods. "Yeah. All of this has been... a lot. I'm sorry if I came across as unenthusiastic, or... or anything like that. I've gone from teaching three courses to six, but I shouldn't let that affect this, now. Truly, [name]." (Don't say it. Do not say it. If this pings their quirk—) "I'm really glad to see you here."

He said it.

They're watching him with raised hackles and the kind of look you see on a puppy caught in a rainstorm. When he says the thing he didn't want to say, he feels sick to see the way their shoulders relax, just the tiniest amount.

He wasn't lying.

He should have been.

They turn back to Ochako, whisper again. He’s not sure they know how to really be quiet. "I’ll stay."

She smiles at them, then turns her attention back to Izuku. "Alright. Thank you for that. Now, this meeting is mostly just to iron out [name]'s accommodation needs and boundaries for the semester going forward. We'd also like to set up meeting times, maybe once a week in the leadup to the summer session, to help iron out the things [name] should be reviewing in anticipation for the course and prepare them to return to school. After the session starts, my boss believes it'd also be helpful to continue these check-ins, either as tutoring sessions or to discuss anything in class that isn't working well for them. I understand that you have a lot going on, Dr. Midoriya, so we'll happily work around your schedule. Unless there's something you need to work around, [name]?"

[name] shakes their head.

"Okay, great! So, Dr. Midoriya, when works for you?"

"Fridays," he replies automatically. Give him the weekend to recover from seeing them.

Every week. He doesn't just have to make it through the lectures, he has to see them, one-on-two, once a week, every week.

This is a nightmare.

"I tend to make Fridays easier days for my students!" he explains, too quickly. "This also means it's an easier day for me, and I don't have office hours that day right now, so I can easily accommodate the two of you! I-I think it'd also be best, as a way to end the week and start your respective weekends! That way, you can have the weekend to go over anything refined in any tutoring sessions, and we can start each week off with a fresh mind! How does that sound?"

Ochako nods along. "That sounds like a good idea! [name], what do you think?"

All her cheer and efforts reward her with a shrug.

"If it doesn't work for you, you can always tell me later, okay?"

They nod, staring down at their lap. Izuku makes a show of checking his schedules starting in May, looking for the best time. "It looks like Fridays after lunch are generally good for me. Does that create any conflicts for either of you?"

Ochako shakes her head. "All good here! [name]?"

A tiny shake of the head, nearly missed.

"[n-name]...?" Izuku tries, cursing himself when it comes out a stammer. Cursing himself for saying your name at all. "Is there a better time for you?"

"No," you whisper into the room. "I don't really have much of a schedule, Dr. Midoriya, so it's up to you and Miss Ochako."

Ochako, for her part, looks stunned for a moment. "O-okay! Don't be afraid to speak up if something doesn't work for you, okay?"

"Okay."

He has the sense that this has been a stride for them. The fact that that, alone, was considered a stride in Ochako's eyes has his heart twisting even worse.

"Great! So, we'll meet up every Friday at one o'clock, unless something gets in the way. Now, [name], Mina told me you were worried about how having an aide would look to your classmates, right?”

"Mm."

"So, Dr. Midoriya, I wanted to ask that you not call attention to [name]'s situation at all. Right now, they're not really able to complete projects such as presentations in any capacity. I have faith that longer-form projects can be tackled effectively with the right mindset, but given their lack of wordiness at the time..."

"Right, of course! I had a presentation planned for the class, but I'll make the offer to all students to choose between presenting as a group or writing individual papers. That should also be good to not call attention to your role, r-right? I can hand out exams to you, too, Ochako, but there won't be the expectation of you completing them." He finds himself reaching for a notebook, writing even as he speaks. "And of course, I'd be happy to provide additional help during our weekly meetings, if you and [name] would like! I know it can be really hard sometimes, so anything I can do to help, I'd like to!"

She smiles. "That'd be great!"

The meeting continues on. Between him and Ochako, and [name]'s rare affirmative noises, it becomes productive indeed, and by the time the pair of them leave Izuku's office, he's feeling much better about the semester, even if he's not feeling better about them being here at all.

On their way out the door, Izuku finds himself speaking before he can stop himself.

"[name]?"

They pause and look back at him.

For just a moment, it's you. Curiosity in your eyes. A tilt to your head, subtle and questioning. In the next moment, you’re gone, and they're staring at him blankly.

"Um, I just wanted to apologize for earlier. I really do want you to succeed, and I never should have let my own personal issues give you the impression that I didn't want you here or didn't want to be here."

"Okay. Thank you."

"My goal as your professor is to help you succeed, no matter what. So please, don't hesitate if you need any help at all, okay?"

"Okay," they repeat. "Thank you."

~

The smell of the household's dinner meets Ochako's grateful nose when she brings [name] back to their apartment. It really is a great location—a ten minute walk from campus. They didn't even have to take their car. [name] doesn't even need a parking pass unless they really want one.

"We're back!" Ochako calls into the room.

Mina's voice calls back from the kitchen: "Welcome back, you two! I've just started plating up dinner."

[name] walks further into the apartment, and Ochako follows, just in case there's any last things she needs to handle before she heads home.

"Thanks for helping [name], Ochako. Since you're here, want to stay for dinner?"

Ochako shakes her head. "No, that's okay! I appreciate the offer, though. I don't want to impose."

[name] gives a sharp look. "She's lying. She wants to stay."

Mina laughs. "We've got the expert on the case. I won't force you to stay, but you really are welcome." She flashes a sly grin [name]'s way. "You'd like it if Ochako stayed, right, [name]?"

They nod. "She's nice."

At that, Ochako melts a little. "I'll stay, but only because [name] wants me to."

"Liar."

"Guilty. Is there anything I can do to help set up?"

"Have a seat. [name], your physical therapist wanted you to practice things like setting the table and getting dishes down, right? Do you want to get down some plates for me and set the table?"

"Okay."

They move like a ghost: past Mina, to the cabinet where they've been storing dishes. When they disappear into the dining area with them, Mina turns to Ochako.

"I can't thank you enough for helping them. They're already doing way better just from getting out today."

"No, no need to thank me! Honestly, I should be thanking you and the rest of [name]'s friends. It's obvious that you care deeply for them, and are willing to put in the work to help them get better."

"It's just what friends are supposed to do, right?"

She sighs, rests her chin in one hand. "You would think, but a lot of the time, we get clients who have no one and live alone, or worse, live with family members who only have their own interests in mind. It's really hard to help someone when their environment is working against them. I do my best, of course! But in cases like this one, it's much easier knowing that they're coming home to people who want them to get better for their own sake."

Quiet footsteps at the entry to the kitchen.

"Drinks?" [name] asks.

"Ochako, do you want anything?"

"Water's fine, thank you! But I can get it myself—"

"No," [name] cuts in.

Mina laughs. "Their physical therapist wants them to practice pouring drinks, too. We're working them up to being able to do daily life stuff all unassisted, and they're making great strides. Think of it as helping them with their PT!"

"In that case..." Ochako sits back and watches as [name] gets down four glasses. They're diligent, and the other two in the room watch.

"Don't forget to let Tsuyu know dinner's ready, and ask what she wants to drink, okay?" Mina prompts. They set the glass of water in front of Ochako and scamper off.

Actually scamper.

The sight has Mina's jaw dropping. "I think there's more life in them than I've seen in months."

"I thought so, too! They've really made big strides today. You should be proud! It's clear that they're wanting to get better, too. They're still not very open with their emotions, but they're trying hard! They even told me earlier today when they wanted to leave."

Mina goes stiff at that. "Did something happen?"

[name] joins them as they're moving to sit down with dinner, Tsuyu at their side. "Dr. Midoriya was lying when he said he was pleased to meet me, so I wanted to leave. But he explained that he was really stressed and that he did want to help me succeed, so we decided to stay."

Now, Ochako's not an empath or anything, but she's not stupid and she can definitely sense when the temperature in the room suddenly feels like it's dropped several degrees. The expressions on both Tsuyu's and Mina's faces mirror each other, and Mina nearly drops her plate.

"Sorry, who did you meet today?"

"Dr. Midoriya. He's taking over Dr. Hakamada's classes."

The sheer awe at them coming out of their shell for such long sentences is nothing compared to whatever the hell emotion Ochako is witnessing roll off of [name]'s roommates right now.

"Is something wrong?" they ask, tilting their head.

"No, no!" Mina says. She cringes a moment later—[name] is almost attempting to glare at her.

"Mina."

"Just—tell us about the meeting and this Dr. Midoriya while we eat!"

"I have to get Tsuyu's drink, first."

They disappear into the kitchen, and return with two filled glasses—one for Tsuyu, one for them. When at last they've sat, it's clear the roommates are hoping the topic of conversation will have moved on, but...

"The meeting went well. Dr. Midoriya looked really tired, but pretty. He had sharp teeth. He's a bit overwhelmed with taking on Dr. Hakamada's work, though."

"I can imagine," Tsuyu says. "Was he already a professor before?"

"Mhm. He said he's got nine classes now, but he still found time to have me and Ochako for meetings once a week. I think he's really eager to please or something."

Wow. They're really, really talking. "The three of us have meetings every Friday at one o'clock moving forward. He's going to be altering some course material to avoid bringing attention to [name]'s situation, and acting as though I'm a student to avoid calling attention to me. [name] has expressed that they want to blend in as much as possible, after all!"

[name] nods. Tsuyu nudges their side. "Don't forget to actually eat."

"Oh. Sorry." They turn their attention to eating, their movements robotic.

"I think this summer session will be really good for them. Beyond the activity walking to class and getting out of the apartment a little bit, it's clear this has been good for them!"

"Do you think so?" [name] asks, looking up from their plate.

"Mhm! Look at how much you're talking after that!"

"Hm. I didn't notice."

Ochako, for her part, pretends not to notice the concerned looks Tsuyu and Mina give each other. She steers the conversation away, and they keep up a good chatter until plates are cleaned and it really is time for her to go.

Tsuyu rises to collect the plates, and Ochako is right there with her, insisting even when everyone else tries to make her sit. A meaningful glance is all that gets Tsuyu to let her follow her to the kitchen, where, immediately, she's whispering to Tsuyu. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Mina leading [name] further away from the kitchen. Bless her.

"Okay, I have to ask. What's up with yours and Mina's reactions to Dr. Midoriya? Is there something I should know about?"

Tsuyu sighs, grabbing the plates from Ochako to clean. "[name] used to be in love with him."

Oh. She's suddenly very glad that Tsuyu took the plates from her. "Well. That wasn't exactly what I was expecting."

"They lived together for a while before all this happened. [name] has basically completely forgotten he existed, but he... let's just say, none of us are very happy with him. For one thing, that he's completely disappeared from their life when all this is going on."

"I... I see. That would explain a lot about how he was acting."

"How was he acting?" She arches a brow her way.

"Oh, you know... really nervous? And the fact that [name]'s quirk caught on him saying it was nice to meet us. If it wasn't their first meeting, and he knew that, I can totally see their quirk reading it as a lie! But he also just seemed... really sad."

She snorts. "After he abandoned them like that, he can be as sad as he likes. If we'd known they would end up in his class, we would have found some way to steer them away from it.”

Ochako thumbs at the strap of her bag, feeling the texture change as it runs across her thumb pad. “I don’t know the full story, and please don’t take this as me defending him, but is it possible he’s grieving this in his own way? Maybe he doesn’t know how to approach them after they—“

Tsuyu shakes her head. The plates get set down a little too hard. “You really don’t know the full story, kero. And even if you did… you don’t grieve someone’s memory loss by kicking them out of your house and making them fend for themselves financially. Among everything else.”

“Right.” She swallows down the odd feeling in her throat. “Right. I’ll… keep an eye on him, okay? If [name] seems like they’re backsliding, I’ll advise moving them into another course. I’m sure Dr. Midoriya would understand, too.”

“He’d better.”

~

Dr. Midoriya Izuku has earned far too many degrees to be anything but an expert on the subject: It does not, in fact, get better.

It doesn’t even get easier.

The first Friday meeting, he had prepared for. He’s spent the past week organizing a general breakdown of what [name] needs to review to succeed in his class. He’s sourced a book that he thinks will help, fuck, he’s even brought a book on how to take notes and succeed in college, in case they’ve forgotten that, too. He’s rehearsed his lines in the mirror a thousand times, and it took everything in him to stop preening in the bathroom mirror in the hour leading up to the meeting. He even nearly forgot to eat lunch.

He also opened himself up to making a crucial mistake.

Ochako had greenlit the move, sure, but still.

Sbeve is curled up in the chair meant for [name]. He’s been nothing short of despondent. If a cat can sulk like a teenager, Sbeve is doing it, and doing it better than any teenager could. And yeah, he gets it. He misses them, too.

More than he wants to admit, he misses them. Which is probably why he made this stupid decision to begin with. Sbeve was always their cat, after all. The both of theirs, but [name]’s in particular. Their kitten. Their baby. Sbeve stuck by his side until [name] came home, and then would leave him until they came to find him.

So, really, this is for Sbeve’s benefit. Not his. He doesn’t need to see his cat curl up on the love of his life’s lap again. And Ochako really did sign off on it!

So he waits. And he waits. And he checks the clock approximately four hundred times in the hours between 12:42 and 1:00, and eight hundred more in the hours between 1:00 and 1:08, when at last [name] and Ochako walk through the door.

The effect is instantaneous.

Sbeve is out of their chair, scaling up their leg like nobody’s business, curling up in their arms before they’ve even really registered what’s happening and meowing at the top of his lungs all the while. He’d made sure to feed Sbeve before they came, to prevent any vampire kitten incidents from occurring.

“Um,” they say, voice pitching high with confusion and life, “hello…?”

Izuku can’t contain the little laugh that escapes him. “Mx. [name], Ochako, good to see you again!”

“Sorry we’re late, Dr. Midoriya.” Ochako’s voice is cold, her expression guarded. But maybe he’s imaginging that because he knows she should hate him. “I hope you weren’t waiting too long! [name] had a bit of a rough start to their day.”

They nod, almost instinctively pressing a tiny kiss to Sbeve’s head. Izuku’s heart wrenches.

Yeah. This was a catastrophic mistake.

“Sorry,” [name] mumbles. “I had weird dreams and they threw me off.”

“Hey, not a problem! What matters is that you’re here. And that, apparently, my cat likes you.”

“He’s really soft. And little.”

“I’m considering having him trained as a therapy cat, but he has a little bit of a biting problem I’m trying to fix first. Small warning! He bites!”

“He does?” They—you—tilt your head. “There’s no way. Sbeve’s just a little guy.”

It’s the little flashes of you that get him. The tilts to the head, the bits of life that return to your voice for shreds of shreds of moments. The personality that bleeds through even though half the time, you are just a memory piloting a ghost.

Ochako seems startled by it, too, though he can’t fathom why. “[name], Dr. Midoriya didn’t… tell us his name…”

Oh.

Oh, that knocks him flat.

You remember Sbeve.

“Didn’t he?” [name] replies, and the moment, the you-ness is gone. “Sorry.”

“I-I did!” Izuku stammers. “His name’s Sbeve!”

Also a wrong move, because now they’re looking at him oddly, because they know he’s lying even if Ochako thinks he’s smoothing things over. He has to take control.

“A-anyways! Let’s get started on this meeting. I took the time to prepare some resources I thought would be helpful, and this book in particular is a great primer for my course!” He slides it across his desk, before they can call him out on his lie or Ochako can realize they clocked it.

And maybe the meeting goes well after that. Maybe there’s no more flashes of you shining through, and there’s no more slipups where they know things they shouldn’t, and Izuku doesn’t have to think about what he’s done.

Just maybe.

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[hexiewrites]

okay pals. after completely burning myself out last week and then having a very weird up and down anxiety situation i have done 0 writing in the last like 7 days.

hallmark au is currently at 25,600 words.

i am aiming to start posting on december 11th so i would very much like to have this all wrapped up and ready to go by then.

i have no idea how many words it's going to end at but for now i have five more chapters planned and my chapters in this fic are breaking out around 3500 words, so lets say another 15k to make it easy (note to those who don't know this about me: it will definitely be more than 15k shh shh its FINE I'm FINE we're all FINE)

which is, yknow, slightly more than 1k a day. which feels probably totally achievable, right???

I'm going to use this post and pop back in with my daily word counts just to like, keep myself motivated now that nano is over! feel free to leave any words of encouragement and slash or yell at me to get back to writing when you see it!

see yall on the flipside

[diaphanouso]

Spec Reqs 2023 - My Recs

(Shoutout to @otemporanerys for inspiring the general format of this post!)

This year, I participated once again in the Spectre Requisitions Rare Pair Exchange @spectre-requisitions-exchange, and holy moly, the fanworks are absolutely incredible! I've been FEASTING on them all day and basking in rare pair goodness. Check out this year's collection of amazing fanart and fics here, and please remember to leave kudos and comments if you find anything you like!

As usual, I'm doing this at the eleventh hour (right before author reveals), so I'll share what I wrote in about, uh, 8 minutes, lol. Here are my recs so far—I'll add to this list as I progress through the collection!

My Gifts

I could not believe my luck this year! I received a SUPER hot Kasumi/Rolan fic and TWO Castis/Adrien fics! I've developed a... small, inconsequential, totally manageable, NBD obsession with Kasumi/Rolan recently. Also, Castis/Adrien was the first rare pair that came to mind when I participated in Spec Reqs for the first time last year, and I'm all verklempt that they were fulfilled this year 🥹

Main Gift

Priceless | Kasumi/Rolan Quarn | 1300 words | E | by otempora I'll just let this kickass summary speak for itself:

And they DO!! It's incredibly sexy, the banter/teasing is top notch, and the characterization is so well done.

Treats

A Reunion | Castis/Adrien | 1100 | M | by missjlh Castis visits Adrien after the war and they reconnect. Excellent banter and teasing interwoven with poignant depth.

It's Getting Dark, Darling | Castis/Adrien | 1100 | M | by GemTheGinger Adrien pays a visit to Castis, who's been grieving alone. Heartbreaking and beautiful, with strong characterization and gorgeous prose.

Fic Recs!

A Hunger Story | Saren Arterius/Nihlus Kryik | 4700 | T | by Kalliesa

only echoes in the melody now | Kasumi Goto/Keiji Okuda, Kasumi Goto/Keiji Okuda's Greybox | 3500 | E | by calypsid

something worth eating | Grunt & Wrex | 700 | Gen | by CoaxionUnlimited

A Sip of Serenity | Liara & Kaidan | 1500 | Gen | by projectseraphim

Diamond in the Rough | FemShep/Zaeed | 2800 | E | by otempora

An Unfortunately Sexy Man | Foster Addison / Tiran Kandros / Nakmor Kesh / Jarun Tann | 6600 | M | by missjlh

baby | Macen Barro/Avitus Rix, Avitus Rix & Macen Barro & SAM | 9700 | M | by forceinsensitive

[secretaryunpaid]

The Long Goodbye...

Rating: Mature

Warning: Intimacy, the feeling of loss

Word Count: 3500 approximately

The Long Goodbye…

It was time…

He wasn’t ready, although he thought he would be…

Boys, get your scarves, Dahlia and I are going to take you on a stroll through Central Park, and then we are taking a trip together to visit someone special to you that you haven’t met yet. Saying “special” cut like a heated knife through his heart, but it would not take away from the fact that he is someone special to them, as he was to their mother… another bitter fact that Sam had come to accept. It had taken him time, but he knew that brooding over the fact wouldn’t change a single ounce of the truth that had burned in his mind and heart for some time now.

He had given him time to adjust to his request for his sons, but would that time ever be enough? No way that it could ever be. Although they were not his biological sons, they had made him the man he was today. For if they had not been born, he would never have found it within himself to care more about his own life… It had been their births that grounded him. Watching the pain ripping through Alina as she so bravely pushed each one into the waiting hands of a very proud father, eventually cutting their cords after the desired time she’d ask them to wait… the last moments they would be totally dependent on her alone for their survival finally showed Sam exactly what he had been taking for granted.

Looking back on it made things bittersweet. How could the best memories of his life be stained with untruth? But he wouldn’t allow any deception to taint his relationship with his boys, until they could no longer reside with him he would give them his all. So, today would start their long goodbye… Mini trips to fun locations and a walk down memory lane, ending in the very place he’d discovered his wife in the arms of none other than their true father. 

Sighing, Dahlia takes his hand and pulls him into a tight hug. “We will get through this, Sam. It won’t be easy, but we will. This doesn’t truly have to be goodbye. I don’t see that you could be kept out of their lives after raising them to be such fine young boys. Their brilliance and love of life is all because of you. Yes, Alina had her share in giving them love early on, but after… Well, love, that was all you!” He bends and rests his chin atop her head, steadying his anxiety in her firm hold of him. She always did have a way of calming the worst storms brewing within him. “Let’s go, we have a lot of activities ahead of us, and our boys are anxious… “

Once at the park, the boys inquired about every scientific thing that they could think of, from the color change in the leaves, to the contrasting landscape, to why they seemed to react differently to the cool weather… Dahlia had on a wool trench, while Sam just had a knit sweater and scarf thrown over his neck and shoulders, but a thin turtleneck was the only protection against the chilling breeze. The boys both had on their fleece lined jackets with hats, scarves and gloves. 

It was fascinating to listen to Dahlia explain the body’s mechanisms for regulating body temperature, the boys eagerly giving their own examples, missing the heated looks between the two adults whose bodies were joined at the sides, arms wrapped around each other like anchors to keep them both from losing themselves in these moments… How would their days be without the energy and life the boys brought throughout their days?

Thoughts were broken as they came across a cart vendor selling the most alluring scented hot drinks and pastries. Answering before the boys’ excitement could settle enough to ask, they followed the boys at a much slower pace to the smiling older gentleman who was reciprocating the smiles plastered on the boys’ faces. As they animatedly discussed which sweets would be best and to see if they could get away with more than one, Dahlia held a quick conversation with Sam which ended in a sweet kiss caught by the boys just as it was ending. “Eewwww, more kissing!” 

“That’s what love looks like, young men, now… what can I get for you?” This man reminded them of Carter once they gave a closer look, but maybe it was just his gentle nature that made them think of him. “Well boys, since we grossed you out just now, I’m sure you won’t want anything but a hot drink, right?” Sam teased them, knowing that they’d plead for more and it would divert them from witnessing their mature actions. As they protested, Dahlia nudged Sam to give in just this once and let them have their pick of things to their delight. After drinks and goodies were purchased, their walk continued until they reached the pond and park benches.

“Your dad and I will sit here while you two explore this area in front of us, but stay in sight, okay.” The boys head straight for the carousel, and once on, chase each other around it until they find just the right spot. As the carousel turns, intermittently waving and calling out to the boys, Dahlia turns to Sam with puzzlement over his distant expression. “Do we get to discuss more about this? I still don’t know who this mysterious father could even be.”

He finally turns to look at her with tearful eyes. “I know it’s asking a lot, but I don’t think it’s something that I can discuss right now. I just want to fully enjoy the remainder of our days together as a complete family. I will explain more on the last leg of our vacation. I am, however, anxious to meet your sister! Is she anything like you?”

“Way to deflect from unwanted conversation, mister… but, not so much. Riley and I are two very different people. Although, she did marry my brother-in-law not truly knowing anything about him… That is similar to us, but I knew a lot about you… You just didn’t see that knowing everything about me would change things. But to add more, Riley carried a lot of the responsibility for me. Our parents traveled for work and were hardly ever present in my life. My Grandma Addie was my lifeline… but after she passed on, it was pretty much Riley. I went off to college at an early age, and Riley eventually went off to medical school but left to pursue “anything different” to quote her directly. She was pretty much a professional student, but our grandmother always told us that you can’t ever have too many degrees behind your name. Life played out a lot differently for me, but I do have my Master’s in Chemistry, Bachelors in Biochemistry and Psychology.”

Sam barely heard much of what Dahlia was saying, eyes flicking between her and the carousel, taking in how excited and carefree the twins were. This had never been his childhood, groomed from an early age to be in the public eye, from his grandfather’s prominent status to his father’s need to surpass the image of his father. He couldn’t help reliving the day of their birth, changing their diapers for the first time when handling them both on his own… a bet he’d made with confidence to his wife that he could handle the task alone and with precision, but two blowouts proved otherwise. He didn’t think something so small could hold so much, but they did, and it was like a competition brewing between them already, or their first ever prank. His memory of dropping them off for their first day of school brings a smile to his face, but is quickly interrupted by the boys’ screaming as they played tag after having gotten off the carousel and playfully raced back towards the two of them. 

Standing, he reaches for her hand with a sad smile which causes her to pause, but she offers him her hand. Pulling her into him for a tight hug, he kisses just behind her ear as he whispers, “I love you, you know that?” As she leans to try to guess his mood, he kisses her on the lips quickly before taking her hands and kissing them before interlacing their fingers together so that they could continue their evening of fun. Each feels Mickey and Mason slide up against their exposed sides, simultaneously ruffling their hair as the boys protest, “Where to next, Dahlia?” She looks at Sam and says, “You boys up to pillaging and plundering a castle?”

“There’s a real castle?” 

“Yes, in the center of Central Park. We have to fight off other pirates as we climb to the top. We’ll need to get to the lookout to search for the potential locations the treasure has been buried. Race you there!” 

“Ugh, dad! Dahlia’s too fast! Catch her!” He can’t help falling into the feeling of family and gives chase, hearing the boys yell, “faster, faster, she is getting away!” Gaining on her quickly with his long strides, he catches her at the waist and spins her around. As he begins to lower her to the ground, the boys join in hugging her waist and laughing, “You’re fast, but not faster than dad!”

“Yeah, duh!!! Do you see those long legs! That’s why I needed the headstart! But… since you don’t know the way, my little admirals, you’ll just have to stay close and follow me!” His heart pangs with knowing these are the final moments with his family in this way. He is so thankful that Dahlia is taking charge of this adventure in his stead because he is slowly crumbling inside and fighting hard not to fall weak in front of the boys.

How had he taken them for granted all of this time … allowing their grandparents the better part of their time? Arm draped around her shoulder, he quietly thanks her for all that she is doing today and he shows his gratitude later when they are alone, kissing the top of her head. She isn’t used to seeing Sam in such a vulnerable state and begins to worry about him. She won’t probe him further about it now, just keep the boys occupied to give him this bit of instant relief.

Finally making it to the top spiral of the castle’s tower, they make a dramatic scene of spotting creatures and pirate ships sailing towards them in the icy lake below. “We can’t let them get our treasure, Admiral Mason!” “No chance of that, Admiral Mickey! We have Dahlia and dad to fight them off for us!” Sam makes a display of suiting up in armor and weaponry as Dahlia fires shots from the imaginary cannons and yells back for Sam to man the bow chaser. Brandishing his cutlass, he screams out pirate jargon and then throws grenades as he runs to the cannon to finally sink the closest ships. Celebrating in triumph, they all perform a signature dance move and fall down in a fit of laughter.

Once hydrated, they move on throughout Central Park, making their way back towards Hyland Planetarium, the place where Dahlia had taken them on her first attempt at babysitting them for Sam. This would be another painful moment, unable to be hidden. “Dad, why are you so sad?”

Both boys rush to take a hand, somberly gazing up into his eyes awaiting some response. 

Every Breath You Take… Aaron Krause  link2

Sam pulls them into a tight side hug, reassuring them that he isn’t sad (a blatant understatement, but a little white lie told to not dampen their moods), but just remembering their happiest moments together (not a lie, but a mask for what he truly feels). As they make their way to their preferred row of seating, the lights begin to lower. After calling out as many of the ones they recognized in competition, the boys noticed a new set they had never seen before, a mirror image representing identical twins. Sam had arranged for the boys to have their own constellations named after them, so that no matter where they were in the world, as long as they were looking up at the starry night sky, there would always be a constant reminder of how much he loved them even though they may be apart. 

“Wow, dad! You really had them named after us?”

“I sure did! I even bought you an advanced telescope so that you can help to discover more… even if they can’t be documented, you boys can have the pleasure of writing your own worlds in the stars above.” Dahlia leaned in close as Sam lifted his arm for her to cuddle into him.The tears in her eyes were apparent, but the boys didn’t catch on due to their excitement of air tracing their very own constellations. Dahlia remembers the exact evening Sam discussed the idea with his mother when they visited her for dinner, and slowly the pieces begin to stitch together. This is what had motivated all of these unexpected yet sentimental acts from Sam. 

Vivian had discussed having their ceiling mimic this exact view with Liam, and he’d agreed to have the renovations completed by the time of their arrival. She made sure that he knew the things the boys were accustomed to and had already begun shipping things unable to be found in Cordonia out of her need to have some control in this unfortunate situation. Liam was beyond grateful for every bit of information he had been privy to because this was already going to be a major change… one, not even he could be sure that Riley or Cordonia would be openly receptive to.

One last car ride with Carter… this time, both sit up front, after a dare made by Mickey that Mason wouldn’t be able to convince Sam to allow this to ever happen, and if by some rare chance he did, he would stop teasing him about the bedwetting prank he’d pulled on him, never mentioning it again to anyone. He’d teased Mason long and hard over this, making sure to tell anyone that would listen to his comedic rantings, so there was no way that Mason wouldn’t give this a try. To Mickey’s disbelief, all Mason had to do was ask and Sam gave in with a gentle smile, rustling his curls saying, “Just this once!”

His strength had completely faltered, and there was no way that he would be able to thwart the onslaught of questions the boys would have given on the journey home. They wouldn’t continue to believe that he was the nostalgic father he’d previously explained their prior concerns away with. The moment the town car began its designated route to the airport, Sam sank down into Dahlia’s lap, his head heavy and eyes brimming with the unshed tears he had been willing away the entire day.

As she gently stroked his beard, she softly pleaded for him to talk to her. Knowing the details may allow her to comfort him better, but he delays the conversation by planting kisses on her inner thigh through her clothing, moving to place a kiss on her mound before easing his way up to kiss her with such a needy force that she abandons any and all conversation. Unfastening the button with a mere hook of his finger and quickly dragging the zipper down, he buries his face in her crotch, teasing her clit as his hands squeeze her thighs… slowly dragging her forward to allow him better access.

“Sam, I love the way you feel right now, but what about the partition?” Only stopping to lean backward to lock the window access to the back of the town car, he turns and eyes her with such adoration in his eyes that she feels her wetness increasing. 

It will take at least an hour to reach the private hanger, where Sam’s plane has been prepped for him to take his family up for the first leg of their air travel. He’s never taken the boys up but feels that this would be the perfect way to ease them into the much longer flight ahead of them. What better way to show his boys how cool their dad is? Their dad…

Desperately needing to get out of his head, he gave her only one instruction, “Don’t make a sound!” The roughness in his kiss suffocated any spurning her mind insisted upon knowing that the boys could potentially hear or see her intimate behavior, soft whispers and cries escaping her. When Sam desired comfort in this way, she knew that whatever was grating on his mind would unravel through the most intense touch he could offer her, and she could barely contain her anxiety to absorb every ounce of feeling that he would pour into her.

He thought that this was finally smothering the feeling of abandonment that haunted him, but her repetitive whisper, “Oh, baby!”, would remind him of the words that escaped Alina’s mouth as he held her, nestled in his lap with each new baby boy held secure in her arms as he firmly surrounded hers… “Oh baby, look how peaceful and beautiful they are!” The push and pull between reality and memory almost proved to be overwhelming, but he would soon remedy this. 

Taking her faster would cause her words to falter, only allowing room for her to attempt catching her breath while moaning her elation, but this would only set him back to square one, answering questions he wanted to avoid. Lapping the remnants remaining of her first orgasm, he unbuttons his shirt, hurriedly ripping it from his torso just before leaning back on his knees to unbuckle his belt.

Dahlia is already upright on her knees in front of him, unzipping his pants and freeing his pulsing erection, straddling it before he’s even removed the belt completely. A pointless idea now abandoned, he steadies her thighs in his grip as she grinds on him, kissing him with as much passionate energy as she felt coursing through her just moments ago. She feels so damned good taking him as he sits idle, enjoying the feel of her using him to bring a climax and hard release that has her trembling around him, embracing him as she pants so heavily that syncope is near.

Sam is still so conflicted in his heart that his release is stunted each time he is on the brink. Only taking complete control will allow him to escape everything consuming him. Dahlia has no recovery time. Sam lifts her and crawls forward pinning her sideways on the seat as he drives into her hard and fast at first, but slows to give him more time. Both watch as he slowly sheaths himself fully within her, withdrawing at the same pace but lifting upward to intensify the feel of him against her clenching walls.

Stretching her each time as his excitement floods into a near-painful hardness, he finally knows that the time has come to empty all thoughts as he forces himself into her not pulling away any longer but pushing with a deep grind that has her clawing and gripping his arms as he hovers close to her. The buildup to their release becomes so powerful there’s a tightness in his chest and he is almost unable to breathe. One arm holds her tightly against him just below her shoulder blades as his other hand cups her ass, lifting her into his deep strokes, whispering for her to get ready, he’s about to flood her.

She holds tightly around his neck as his grind forces her upward, burying her head until she feels she may scream. “Kiss me, Sam!” He can’t have her talking loudly or screaming. She audibly pouts at his withdrawal, her body now torturously aching to be filled. Unable to protest because Sam repositions and fills her mouth instead, “Take it!” He stretches over her and begins to kiss and suck her orgasm from her as she does him, both grinding wildly against each other’s faces.

Release !!!  Finally, a delicious release drowned in barely audible hissing and shivering moans… “Mmmmhm, Sam!!” It takes everything within him to remain silent, but he has to maintain this restraint… The boys can’t know why he so freely agreed to Mason’s request, although this wasn’t necessarily the primary reason. Lazily readjusting themselves and their clothing, “Talk later?” Yawning, her only reply, “Mmmm…” Reaching into the console to retrieve a light fragranced cologne bottle, he squirts a few sprays onto their clothing to mask their adult activities before relaxing back into the seat and holding Dahlia against him as they await arrival at the hanger.

Was this long goodbye truly the best idea? Sure, it gives him more time, but it would still come to an end with the same result… letting go… How the hell was he supposed to do this?

{To be continued...}