#but yea anyway. rogue one is just..... something else

[halfbaked00q]

# JB depersonalization (is what I called it in my notes app- it's not rly that but I guess it's what I put down and how I shorthand refer to it now lmao...)

premise: captured by a cult (rogue evil scientists?) & conditioned into an altered mindset? maybe trying to brainwash him or sth, but it's like half-done so they put him in a sort of feral animalistic primitive kind of mindset? can't decide if brainwashing is the end goal or it's just like… some form of experimenting on something or other (yea this would kind of be inspired by Smoking Remnants)

Bond to Q at some pt (probably later after he's recovered some but not fully): I'm a weapon. wield me, point me, loose me upon your enemies

Bond is captured, collared & cuffed (or mitted), “trained” to follow certain orders, maybe drugged to assist w compliance?

told to submit to being cuffed in place for food, etc

isn't allowed to talk but can make noises

fights at first but complies to keep his energy up, then it does actually kind of become habit cuz that's how conditioning works, even on humans, babyy

given commands and natural consequences- if he fights when getting fed then his hands are restrained & he has to figure it out. If he cooperates, his collar is chained in place but otherwise he can use his hands. If he fights baths/grooming then they leave him be - one time he fights during a shower & they throw him back in wet & miserable.

is taken care of, regularly groomed, gets some rudimentary exercise, and then gets strapped in to a room for experiments (like hypnotizing/conditioning, drugs)

mostly he finds it trite but better than full sense dep ig (or something, maybe sleep deprivation torture)

one time they drug him w something that leaves him so disoriented & sobby- he has vague impressions of being wrapped in a soft warm blanket and someone sitting with him & stroking him, gentling him down until he dozed off.

(?)Sometimes they do throw him in sensory dep, but they tell him exactly what they plan to do and for how long. If he fights the experiments he gets punishments, which he is explicitly told are punishments. bland, unpleasant monotonous food. sensory dep punishments (timeout) - which is a different experience than the sensory dep experiments. Maybe restrained in a soundproof blacked out room for punishments (or like a padded chest?)? brightly lit but ambient/back so he can't damage his vision, active soundproofing but with possible words just on the edge of intelligible. not fully married to this concept, pure spitballing on this

trainer is a woman, maybe? they have him kill a guy or maybe several. tell him he will be rewarded if he kills him, lets him loose in a room w the guy, the other guy has a weapon (but is still no match for a half-feral Bond).

maybe several months in Q is captured as well (mostly I want to get him there somehow so he knows JB's commands and Bond gets familiarized with him lol. Maybe Q kept looking for Bond on the downlow & either he hared off to chase a lead or they tracked him back & caught him out somehow. anyway they bring him in and see Bond responding to his presence and decide to see if using Q can push their experiments further), told to handle him or else JB would be punished. they have to prove it to him (i.e. he refuses, so they punish Bond), but then he complies. JB doesn't seem cognizant of him but has some seeds of recognition- that helps establish the bond. tries to get unruly but they injure Q nonlethally to get JB protective and keep him in line (with further threats to Q). Maybe they have Q fitted with some kind of shock collar too?

takes a week or 2(?) for mi6 to show up and clear house, by that point Q knows his commands & is also the only one who can handle him after all the bad guys are taken out. keep JB sedated during transport, restrained at first but it was causing him distress so they moved them into the same room together, Q convinces JB to stay put in bed for the time being. JB staring at the staff with cold blank almost unblinking eyes, like a wolf's stare. is still nonverbal at first and very guarded. very protective of Q but also follows his commands if like Q tells him to comply w medical staff, stay put if Q needs to debrief or whatever, etc.

(lmao imagine you are a MI6 security personnel approaching Q shortly after they are rescued and maybe are in medical or sth, and you need to get Q or *handwaves* something. anyway- you are this guy, you are approaching the Quartermaster, and then a hostile 00 appears from who knows where to firmly intercept and also start approaching you hostilely, all the while emitting a sound from deep in his throat that can only be termed growling. And then the Quartermaster goes (sharply) Bond! Leave it! Heel! and he does that- falls silent, retreats to the Quartermaster's side, though continues to pin you with this cold blank wolf stare. girl, this is so beyond your pay grade)

When they're recovered, JB gets more sleep, food, weaned off the drugs etc- starts to mentally recover but still gets jags of disorientation where he falls into the altered half-feral kind of mindset. Keeps trying to “guard” Q. Q develops a habit of keeping a hand on JB to steady/reassure/ground him - this can be like a hand on his arm, or leaning into his side if they're standing together, or a hand at the nape of his neck just cuz I like that :3

also at some pt Q needs to be sitting somewhere doing work and Bond's gotta be sitting/kneeling next to him with his head in Q's lap, while Q is stroking his head (yes like one of those large dog who still thinks he's a lap puppy)

(Probably-Strongly-Influenced-Me shoutouts: Doctor Love (I rotate this fic & its premise in my brain a lot maybe one day this fic will come off hiatus... a girl (gn) can dream), Smoking Remnants, and like probably a goodly portion of the sub!JB fics out there)

[anavatazes]

Hi. *shuffles feet* Been a while. Might still be a bit yet before I start posting regularly again. Long of the short? Had a bit of mental break and needed a break. Slowly easing my way back into things. Slowly.

Obligatory picture of Mara, taking the youngest to school. Her favorite thing, next to eating ❤️.

Anyway, heart is still in a stranglehold by Joel. Pedro as Joel is NOT helping, as he does 😏.

And what really prompted this, was one of my original heartbreakers from when I was a teen, in combination with one of my most favorite characters in comics are coming together again to expand on their time together in the Savage Land 🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠.

Is it January yet 🤤🤤?

Uncanny X-Men 269, 274 & 275 were my favorites when they came out. Rogue was already my favorite character among Storm and Nightcrawler, but this story really captured her essence. She was depowered, just arrived out of Siege Perilous, no one else around, and is attacked by the Mauraders. She uses Gateway's ability to escape but ends up in the land of dinos, fighting Carol Danvers, and being saved by the missing Magneto?! Who Jim Lee really could draw 🤤🫠. It's a great story, and I recommend it.

And now, this January, they are revisiting that story to fill in some gaps. I do hope they don't do any retcons. There is enough hate from Rogue/Gambit shippers as it is, that if they even get a hint of Magneto anywhere near Rogue, they explode. It's like, dude, fucking chill. Gambit has been the end game all along. We all knew it from the moment the Cajun first laid eyes on her. They are married now. If ya'll don't stop, I'm gonna start hating a favorite couple of mine... and it's not the one you want.

Also, no retcons in this, because, well, Magneto is the king of retcons, and I am tired of it. The major being his children Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver. Sorry, not sorry, you cannot still draw Pietro like Max, and say Max did not birth that boy. Nope. Even acts like him, still. It's Max Eisenhardt, Jr. So, no retcons. Don't cheapen the Legacy romance nor ruin things in the ROMY world.

Seeing more of Magneto helping Rogue figure out what is wrong with her powers, please! The man is a fucking genius. Self-taught in so much, too! Let the man show off! Part of what makes him so hot 🔥.

I want to see Colossus' son. Other than a blip here and there, we saw him last in the 80s, I think? Even if it's in passing with the tribes Ka-zar and Shanna are helping, just something!!!! The X-Men know he’s there. WTF happened to him?! This would be perfect for it.

Zaladane. More backstory, please. We were never given 100% yea or nea if she is, in fact, another of Magneto's children or what her exact connection to Polaris is. Not sure what I want, other than closure. This is as close to a return for the character as we're gonna get, and I will enjoy every minute.

I read a good chunk of Tim Seeley's run on Nightwing, and he's good. There is hope that this just won't be a wet dream of a scantily clad chick with two half nekkid guys and dinosaurs! Dick Grayson is a pretty complex character, as are Rogue and Magneto, so I feel they are in good hands.

As a few who are reading this know, I've been looking for pre-order information. I still haven't found any. But I did find an exact release date for issue #1 -

January 15, 2025. It's already on my calendar. I will probably blow my husband's mind and buy both digital and physical on this straight away. I always get digital on the Kindle and use the points I earn to buy more digital, which saves me tons of $$$$. Then, I will buy the TPB or individual issues of the books I want. It's rare I go straight in. But I want more Rogue stories, and this is how you get more Rogue stories.

Hope all that was understandable. Thanks to a stupid change in insurance, I am without one of my meds, and I am feeling it. Lack of sleep, high anxiety levels, and a breakthrough migraine that won't stop. I may not have been all that coherent 😄. Anyway, love you bitches. I am making my way back. Slowly.

[ashiayagami]

geez I really need to work on body shapes-

Anyways, here's the second post for today, a Train Person, its basically just that, a humanoid steam train, yea there is diesel and electric types, just showing the steam based one cause its the only one with a background.

They are for a platformer megaman-esque game I plan on making in the future, them being enemies you encounter in one of the levels, not gonna say anything else, everything about this game is pure proof of consept still, don't have the time (or a keyboard) to make a game right now.

They are workers that is always occupied doing something, either bringing other beings with it using a seperate cart or carrying something on its back with a bucket-like accessory that can be added to the tank in the back. But, after something happened they have gone all rogue, the moment they spot someone, they rush while making a loud train whistle/horn, not only jumpscaring who they are attacking, but also alerting other Train People in the area, which could be a death sentence, if you aproach an area and hear quiet train noises, its best to stay away for your own safety.

[pesterloglog]

Jade Harley, Roxy Lalonde

Act 6, page 6291-6297

JADE: excuse me but did you just "laugh your ass off" at me under your breath

ROXY: ummm

ROXY: yea

ROXY: maybe

JADE: :|

JADE: i fail to see what is so amusing

ROXY: u do

ROXY: seriously?

JADE: .....

JADE: ok i guess the situation is a little funny because of this absurd folder

JADE: and the fact that i woofed at you probably didnt help either

JADE: but im not here to share a good laugh over the old ladys sense of design or her penchant for scrapbooking!

JADE: i am here to make sure that you do as youre told

ROXY: ugh

JADE: now take the file and review your assignment

ROXY: i already looked at it

ROXY: its dumb and impossible and i aint cooperating w her regardless!

JADE: yes you will

ROXY: can we change the subject

JADE: no

ROXY: arent you jakes grandma

JADE: thats what he told me when we were pen pals

JADE: but i think its more accurate to say im his alternate universe biological daughter

ROXY: oh

ROXY: that clears that up then

JADE: yes, it does :p

JADE: now take the damn folder

ROXY: so alt grannydaughter english

ROXY: whyre u part dog + evil lookin

JADE: DO NOT CALL ME THAT!!!

ROXY: what

JADE: my surname is harley not english

JADE: but you may refer to me as jade, or ma'am if you are feeling especially nervous and deferential

JADE: which as it turns out is the way you should be feeling about me, ALWAYS >:B

ROXY: LOL!!!

JADE: lol WHAT

ROXY: jade i am in no way buying that ur normally this pompous and tyrannical

ROXY: the shtick rly doesnt suit you its so obvious

ROXY: why you doin the batterhags tacky bidding anyway

ROXY: she got you under an xtra terrestrial fish spell or

JADE: SILENCE!!!!!!

ROXY: OOF!

JADE: open the file

ROXY: mrphmmphumph

JADE: OPEN IT!

ROXY: fine :(

ROXY: ok i opened it

ROXY: hey look its the same shit as before

ROXY: im supposed to make this weird knobbly spike ball appear out of nothin

JADE: yes

ROXY: ok got it

ROXY: let me give it a shot then

ROXY: ...

ROXY: welp still impossible

ROXY: what now maam??

JADE: it is not impossible

ROXY: is 2

JADE: you are the rogue of void

JADE: dont you know what that means?

ROXY: i dunno

ROXY: means i can turn invisible and stuff?

ROXY: like the blonde in that crappy superhero quartet

JADE: it means a lot more than that

JADE: your true powers are more impressive than those of anyone else in your crappy quartet

JADE: in fact i would say they are almost as cool as mine >:)

ROXY: not sure the ability to make weird spikeballs outta nothin is all that cool tbh

JADE: not just spikeballs!

JADE: imagine that your title is roughly synonymous with "one who steals nothing"

JADE: what do you think it means to be able to steal nothing?

ROXY: it means

ROXY: im like a shitty cat burglar who sucks at her job?

JADE: WRONG

JADE: it means just the opposite

JADE: it means you can steal the essence of nothingness from something

JADE: you can rob nothingness from an idea if you put your mind to it

JADE: effectively allowing you to conjure virtually anything out of thin air

ROXY: omg

ROXY: u cant be serious

ROXY: that is way too much superpower 4 a dork like me 2 have

JADE: grrrrr...

ROXY: oh no

ROXY: pls dont growl @ me dogjade

ROXY: is legit frightening :(

JADE: im sorry, but your remarks of self deprecation made me very angry

JADE: once i was even more of a dork than you

JADE: but now i am one of the most powerful beings who has ever existed

JADE: i dont want to hear any whining about what you think you cant do

JADE: you are hereby under strict orders from myself and her condescension to "clam up" and conjure that orb, do you understand?

ROXY: so im just supposed to

ROXY: sit here and think about this ugly ball

ROXY: and twiddle my fingers or somethin

ROXY: ?

JADE: you tell me

JADE: space is my racket, not void

ROXY: maybe it would help if i knew what the dang thing WAS

ROXY: how am i supposed to steal the nonexistence from a concept when the concept only exists in my mind as "ugly ball"

JADE: its called the matriorb

JADE: it is the key to resurrecting the troll race

JADE: once you create it the empress will hatch it on an uninhabited planet located beyond the reach of her cruel employer

JADE: there her people will have another chance to thrive without the ever looming threat of extinction that comes with his influence

JADE: so you see roxy, there is nothing noble about refusing to help

JADE: once an entire alien race went extinct because of a terrible monster, and you can help give them a second chance

JADE: dont you want that?

ROXY: um

ROXY: in theory sure i guess

ROXY: but ur basically asking me to bring a lot of people back to life so they can be slaves to that witch

ROXY: u want me to help make all these fresh new trolls but then just turn em over to her? like here you go have fun SNORKELBITCH MEGAHITLER

ROXY: i do not actually think i wanna do that??

JADE: yes fair enough, but heres the other thing...

JADE: if you dont i am going to kill you

ROXY: oh noes

JADE: oh yesses!

JADE: a literal plurality of yesses

JADE: seeing as you are a god tier it is very likely you will come back to life

JADE: so i can just keep killing you over and over a different way each time

JADE: maybe i will disembowel you a few times

JADE: i will not even need to use my sharp doggy teeth!

JADE: i will just snap my fingers and your delicious guts will teleport outside your body

ROXY: ew!

JADE: no way more like yum

JADE: i will just keep on killing you again and again

JADE: until you finally get tired of dying and follow your orders

ROXY: maaan

ROXY: evil jade is sucky jade

JADE: i believe you will find i am the suckiest jade there is

JADE: now we are going to be here in this cell for as long as it takes

JADE: i am not going anywhere until you try doing your voidey thing and make something appear

JADE: is that understood?

ROXY: blehhhh

ROXY: fine

ROXY: why u gotta be so awful jade

ROXY: really putting a cramp on us makin choice new friends w each other

ROXY: oh well here goes

ROXY: all twiddlin my fingers and such

ROXY: busting out tha MAJYYXXX! prayin up a storm to the holy wizardchrist they aint fake...

ROXY: alright check it

ROXY: one jank ass space egg coming up

ROXY: ABRACA HAPPEN!

ROXY: this is not a space egg

JADE: no, its not

ROXY: balls

ROXY: guess i effed up my void spell

ROXY: what is this thing

JADE: thats a perfectly generic object

ROXY: its perfectly generic?

JADE: yes

ROXY: dunno about that

ROXY: looks like a green cube to me

ROXY: with like

ROXY: slightly beveled corners

JADE: thats what a perfectly generic object is

ROXY: couldnt something theoretically be more generic than this

JADE: how

ROXY: um

ROXY: i dunno

JADE: exactly

ROXY: :\

JADE: if you want your powers to reach their full potential youre going to need to become more familiar with the fundamental building blocks of ideas and how they translate into more complicated thoughts and forms

JADE: then it becomes a simple matter of using your abilities to snatch those concepts from unreality

ROXY: sounds too hard

ROXY: better start killing me repeatedly and get it over with

JADE: we both know you dont think its too hard, you think it sounds like an interesting challenge

ROXY: dammit!

ROXY: (fucken jakes wily bitch ass grandma)

JADE: this is a very good start though

JADE: with a little practice im sure our empress will have her orb in no time

ROXY: well at least i know i can make a whole lot of these boring cubes if all else fails

ROXY: hey maybe ill build a sick fort outta them

ROXY: hehehe jade tell me that wouldnt be so baller

JADE: it would be fairly baller

ROXY: fyeah

JADE: keep trying for that orb though

JADE: i will return in a while to review your progress

JADE: and remember, dont get any funny ideas

ROXY: but p much all my ideas are funny

JADE: i mean dont try to escape!

JADE: even if you are invisible i will be able to track you down instantly

JADE: my sense of smell is very good

JADE: now if youll excuse me i have some business to attend to

ROXY: what business

JADE: i am still trying to locate my brother

JADE: but im having trouble picking up his scent

JADE: hes using his windy powers to obscure the trail and its giving me fits

ROXY: windy powers eh

ROXY: who is your bro?

JADE: woof!!!

JADE: i mean shoosh :x

JADE: that is enough questions from you

JADE: now i believe you have a space egg to conjure

ROXY: (mumble mumble egg mumble shove it grumble)

JADE: what?

ROXY: (mumble mutter my fat ass)

JADE: farewell roxy

[sbggarakungfood]

Where do I start

The song is meaningful to me, I use the "sung by himself" vers over the vocaloid one because.. it feels more wanting to accept the true self, the topic what the song is talking about.

Yeah, the original concept was unfinished, I have to "work it out" to make it complete. I want to post this before the s3 release to join the hype. At "By one thing, or two things..." originally I want to add fire behind Rogue after he shot the lightning (to make hole on the can). And zoomed in into his face while drinking the can, keep zooming in to his red goggles, with little jay behind those red "layer", like setting him on fire but it was a happy memory. A drew to much of his ass. The timing got off. I tried to reduce the frame sequence but it makes it look worse, so I just accept it that way. In my defense I drew that scene from other device, "stealing time", I remember the song in my head, but turns out the real song tempo is faster oh well.. it's okay. Also I want to make the "shadow" when he starts dancing, I don't have enough time, but to think again.. yea it's not necessary. That would be distracting.

"Cannibalism" I guess it's like "eating himself" (??). I made his element "destroy" him. I don't know if that make sense, anyway I made it to be cool. In [Will Stetson Eng Cover] he interpreted it like The g-girl acts like nothing wrong though there's *something*. My thought is something like He's eating, finishing part of himself spoon per spoon (slowly but consistent until the food is gone) to fit, to dance with his usual charm. So yeah, similar idea. Anyway, about the interpretation, it's fun to see other people's different takes on that. As I said, There's still some of them that I still don't get

And yes, Rogue design inspired by wandering ronin outfit so I draw him to wear hakama. (I didn't see his pants clearly. Of course I know he wear pants, just.. what pants?). And there's the straw coat, usually used as a cover from the rain & snow. I made it longer than the official design because.. it only covers his shoulder (??). But now I see [SPOILERS] He has mechs (and probably) shelter too so the straw coat doesn't really matter I guess (And I'm still not sure how his pants looks like) [/SPOILERS END]

Fake wo ai ni fake affections, I've talked about that stuff here

A MV of MY comfort character with MY comfort song is MADE by ME - though despite some stuff but yea.. I am so proud I am glad I’m the one who made it. Something comforting about the song is.. sometimes you can tell if he made a song because it's fun, sounds good, or actually mean it. How could he know what to say if he's not.. feeling it. It’s kinda.. relieving to know that you're not alone with this *gestures hands* if you know what I'm talking about, whatever the situation you're in. There's someone else too, we don't know each other,, though I want to let them know, it's actually relieving to know I'm not alone, together let's keep going ✋️ー_ー

Another unfinished wip 🙏🏻 HEADPHONE ON 🎧⚡

Song: Telecaster B-Boy - Surii [long vers.]

ENG Translation from here + mixed with my interpretation so I can get the meaning though I still don't get some of that (heheh)

YT link

Telecaster J-Jay

[dyrwoodan]

,

[laximpulsion]

Director's Cut Commentary, Ch. 2-6 oh, she's the one i should hate

Since I'm just about at the end of what I had originally planned for this story i thought it might be an appropriate place to pause for some reflection... more under the cut because it got kinda long and i dont want to inflict blog-length posts on your dash without warning lol

So I thought this was going to be just like, some la-di-da high school romcom AU that would never get very feelings-y or anything, and i CERTAINLY did not expect to have actual character development lol. but it got kinda real??? I mean obviously compared to other things i've written it's still pretty la-di-da and im not planning on having any big-time angst, but i've ended up really invested in it and enjoying a lot of the turns it's taken for both fatin and leah.

i think i've said this before but i'll say it any chance i can get... i have loved getting to show this from both of their POVs; i think it's worked out well and it's been such a great, rewarding challenge to weave the story together through both of their eyes. i love that i get to draw parallels between how and what the two of them think about each other, and i like getting to dig into what moments cause shifts for each of them; what do each of them fixate on; how do they interpret the same event differently... it's been really fun.

and just in general i cant overemphasize how much fun this one has been to write. i almost always enjoy writing, whether it's angst or fluff, whether it goes slow or quickly, even when im feeling uninspired/stuck, it's satisfying to just get some words down. but theres a difference between enjoying it/finding it satisfying, and like, literally being entertained by it. and this one i am just...having FUN! and it's awesome. i think it also helps that my frame of mind going into it was that i wasn't going to take it super seriously (vs. my s3 fic which i am arguably taking TOO seriously and need to loosen the fuck up about) so it's easier for me to roll with the punches when things get off track.

speaking of which... things got off track! little miss leah rilke refused to cooperate with me, which is such a bizarre sensation because i know i'm the one writing her, but it really feels like a couple times this fic she has literally just rebelled against me. the first was when fatin presented the revenge scheme; i intended for leah to hop right on board but instead she got worried about it being traced back to her. which i think makes sense because the way she's been this fic is very concerned about what people are saying/thinking about her. the other time just recently happened while i was writing the next chapter and now it's leaving me kind of at a crossroads wondering if I want to stick to my original plan or go with what Leah seems to want me to do lol.

and obviously the first time leah went rogue I adjusted the story so that they don't do a really big revenge scheme, and i dont regret that, i think it makes sense and i have one more revenge plan related plot beat that i think will wrap it up nicely. so honestly im thinking I'll just adjust things again...because it kind of feels like this is what's supposed to happen anyway, like, i'm letting the characters call the shots instead of trying to shoehorn them into my own plotlines. maybe? something like that? ok, this is getting a little pretentious lol sorry...

what else...mmm...i think thats actually all for now! until next time...

EDIT: oh yea actually i have more. i had to "kill my darlings" a couple times for this fic, i.e. get rid of a scene/plotline that i really liked but that i just couldnt justify keeping after i decided to go in a different direction. i'd never had to do that before and it's harder than i expected it to be! the first one was that i changed the party scene, which was not a huge tragedy bc i think it was the right choice but there are a few lines/ideas from that that i was sad to lose. i'm making myself feel better about it by tacking it on as a bonus chapter at the end so at least i didn't write it for nothing lol. the other one i'm even more bummed to let go of because it is so dumb and messy and i love idiots and mess, but if i go in the direction that leah seems to want me to, i don't think it'll make sense to keep it. i am optimistic that i'll be able to work the general idea into another fic, but it won't be quite the same. so maybe i'll offer that one up as another bonus chapter.

[bookbornexiv]

20: petrichor

Under the waving treetops in the little clearing, the rogue looked up abruptly from the bubbling pot he had been stirring, nostrils flared and teeth bared as if tasting the breeze. “Aw, shit,” he said, “rain coming.”

The witch lifted her head and sniffed the air. “Shit. Grab the pot. I’ll get the fire.”

She hopped to her feet and poked at the glowing coals with the butt end of her staff. The fire popped and hissed, but it did reluctantly gather itself up, ash flaking in its wake, and hopped sadly into the metal bucket the witch pointed it at. Fire contained, the witch hooked the crook of her staff into the bucket’s handle and lifted it off the ground, her nose still twitching. “Where to? Can’t bring it into the shrine, can we? Sui’ll have a fit.”

“Well he’s not around and I won’t tell.” The rogue was grumpy from struggling to handle the hot pot with gardening gloves and a scarf wrapped around his hands. “Found his ‘bo and saddle gone from the stables and he left me a note to check on the chicken. Almost like he knew it was going to storm up this evening. You think he can smell something we can’t?”

“I don’t think there’s a smell before the smell before rain,” the witch said.

“What is that smell anyway? Is it like all the elementals farting at once?”

“Doesn’t fart usually come after you’ve done something, not before?"

“Yea. Yea. I can’t think,” the rogue said miserably, “too hungry. Look, let’s just finish this in the shrine and if Nophica’s man comes back we’ll.. well.. he wouldn’t kick us out in the rain, would he? Not a very priestly thing to do.”

The witch seemed to be thinking very hard. “Was it the big man what came to get him?” she asked gravely. “You know the one. Never seen his face because I can’t see past the shoulders.” (She was a very short witch.)

“There was a pair of big ‘bo tracks along with Zephyr’s...”

“He won’t be back tonight then. Get the door, will you?”

“I’m holding the godsdamned pot! Can’t you open it with your tail?”

The witch hissed, her tail bristling, but she did open the door to the shrine - with her free hand - and held it for the rogue to bumble through with his precious cargo of dinner. There was a brief, stunned silence as they entered and boggled at the interior of the shrine, at the end of which the witch almost dropped her bucket full of fire all over the freshly polished shrine floor. But that is a story about something else altogether.

[imnotwolverine]

The marriage pact - Island folk

Henry Cavill x OC Alice - multi-chapter

< Part 6 | Part 7 Island folk | Part 8 >

Disclaimer: mention of late motherhood worries

Author’s note: This story is just so much fun to write. I set a scene and *BOOM* it just kind of writes itself. Now, I don’t know how long this writing craze will continue, but so far you can expect an update every day. You read that right; every day! 

Word count: 1.525

(Link to my Masterlist)

--

[ Alice.in.writing.land ]

Dear readers,

Dark are the abysses of my heart sometimes, and I know that keeping those thoughts under lock and key only make things worse. And so, for the first time on this blog, I’d like to share something really, truly personal with you. A little snippet of my thoughts for a tender of your time, I’d like to come clean about my most recent Google search which I did late last night, after hours of laying awake.  

Late motherhood.

Why? You may wonder. Well, with my relationships continuously failing and the years - and candles - slowly adding up to my birthday cakes, I feel the increasing unease in my heart whenever I come to think of having a family of my own. Will it happen? And if so, am I not too late already? All my friends and family members had their first children in their late 20s, yet here I am, the oddball, single Pringling through life at 37.

It was about 3 AM late last night when I found myself quelling my nerves by looking at pictures of older female celebrities having kids at the “ripe old age of 35”, which in my book is still super young, but of course we are looking at Hollywood standards here. And, to be quite frank, I’m not sure if it helped me, but at least it did offer me the slightest sliver of hope as I found that I’ll probably just need a little luck, good preparation..and perhaps a donor, to make my wishes come true.

Research is required.

But, let’s not get carried away just yet. I know what I want, now all I need to give myself is time. Time to listen to my heart and learn if this is truly it, time to investigate my options a little more and time to sleep. Because honestly, Google is one hell of a click-through trap when you can’t sleep - I may or may not have ended up falling asleep to videos of laughing foxes, which are truly..the cutest. In case you want to look it up and dare to delve into the time consuming trap that is watching random Youtube videos, then search for: “Finnegan fox”.

Hi-la-ri-ous.  

Also; apparently chocolate cakes have internet access. So, aherm, hello and welcome to my little writing den, oh mysterious chocolate cake of mine!

A very sleepy, but glad to have this off her chest,

Ali

The waves broke softly onto the shoreline as the wind tugged gently on my hair, my pen scribbling away on the paper notebook on my lap. For some odd reason I found it much more comfortable to write by hand, and so whenever the mood struck and I found the time, I snuck out to my little beach hide-out and started to write. This time it was for work, but sometimes I also worked on smaller fictional stories, the very act of writing calming my nerves considerably.

I looked up when I heard the sound of slushing feet through the fine sand, the distinct vibrations telling me someone was approaching me with slow, dragging feet. And.. it appeared to be not just anyone.

Henry.

So very suddenly I felt terrible about posting that blog this morning. Had he read it? Would he start a conversation about it? I wasn’t quite sure if I wanted to have that conversation with him right now. We were at best just dating, our newly rekindled friendship slash relationship only a few days young.

He stifled a yawn as he plopped down beside me on the picnic blanket, his eyes sporting large dark circles beneath them, his shoulders slumping slightly as he looked me over. I sniffled, shaking my head at the fact that we both had barely slept - obviously.

‘Mornin’.’ He grumbled, a gentle smile reaching his lips, his body leaning forward, but halting mid-morning kiss. Almost automatically I closed the distance, my hand moving aside my notebook so I could lean in, lips brushing over his, which apparently was just what he needed, his lips curling up in a full smile. ‘Hi.’ I whispered into his lips, then leaned back, tucking some rogue curl behind his ear before studying him better. Once more he wore a blue shirt - he had a gazillion of those, didn’t he? - and some dark jeans, his hair fresh and messy straight out of bed.

’So…no sleep then?’ I inquired, watching him as he slowly moved his gaze towards the rolling waves before us. ‘Nope.’ ‘How come?’ ‘Hmm..’ He thought aloud. ‘..I suppose it is difficult to just stop my life right dead in its tracks.’ He sighed.

‘What’s up Hen?’ I scooted closer to him, fingering a hand through his curls, his eyes closing as he revelled into the simpleness of my touch.

‘I have to fly back to London for the weekend. There’s this event that my manager can’t seem to cancel without serious repercussions and..’ He sighed again. ‘You don’t want to go.’ ‘Not really no. But I will have to. The fox videos helped by the way.’

My heart summersaulted at his words - not only because he apparently read my blog, which wasn’t entirely surprising, but also because he was showing so much vulnerability. This large bear of a man was being honest about the things that frustrated him, something I had never experienced with previous partners. They’d always just burst out in flames all of a sudden, without giving me any fair warning before hand.

‘Hmm..’ I hummed, thinking. His eyes were still staring out to the sea, soft waves cascading in similar shades to his cerulean irises. He truly seemed to be a bit done with it all. 

‘I’ve got some swimming pig videos at the ready too.’ I added, laying my head onto his shoulder and wrapping both my arms around his large chest, wishing to comfort him a little. ‘Hehe..swimming pigs.’ He chuckled, his chest vibrating with near silent mirth. ’Yea..can you imagine? Those tiny, tiny legs kicking through aquamarine water, their noses sticking out the water like living, breathing, skin coloured electricity points. Oink oink!’

Henry’s chuckle turned into rumbling laughter, his shoulders shaking until he finally looked back at me, my head still resting on his shoulder. ‘Ali..I ..eh..know this is maybe a bit weird, but, would you perhaps like to join me? To London? Leaving Friday night, back Sunday morning?’

I sat up, my brown eyes staring into his deep blues. Tender, hopeful blues. ‘Hmm.’ I hummed, blinking for a moment as I mulled over his words.

‘I know it’s all going fast and I don’t want to pressure you.’ He added.

‘No, it’s okay. It’s ehm..okay. Yea, sure, I’ll come. I haven’t been to London in ages and don’t have weekend plans anyways.’

‘Ages?’ ‘Naa..okay..maybe not ages. More like months.’ I snorted. We both laughed until finally my eyebrow quirked up. ‘So..what kind of event are you ..or we..going to?’ Henry smiled, leaning in to kiss me, the sound of my fluttering heart drowning out all else around us.

The answer to my question didn’t matter, I was simply very happy that I could join him and finally get a sneak peek of his usual life. Henry’s life.

—

‘I’m still amazed at the fact that you managed to pack all your things in that one backpack.’ Henry grinned, pushing my backpack in the overhead storage locker in First Class. I grinned in turn, shrugging my shoulders as I sat back in my seat. ‘Oh you know. I don’t mock about. No need to bring the unnecessary.’

‘You’d make for a fine traveller.’ He admitted, plopping down in his seat, right next to me, his hand quite instantaneously interlacing with mine - he didn’t even seem to think about it -, a smile tugging on the edges of his lips as he watched two business men enter, taking their seats a few rows ahead, leaving us plenty of privacy.

Slowly, he cast me a curious glance. ‘What is it, dear?’ He asked, noticing my studious look, his smile growing and his blue eyes sparkling.

‘Mmm..just wondering. You probably thought about this far better than I have thus far. But if you’d start a family..how would that..go? Like..-‘ ‘The travelling and stuff?’ ‘Yea.’

Henry leaned into the headrest, his head tilting up slightly as he licked his lips. ‘It’s going to take some back-and-forthing with my partner. And it won’t be easy. It will not only be my children that will give you broken nights, you see.’ He grinned and my heart fluttered at his words - children! -, yet my mouth remained sealed, waiting for him to continue. He sighed. ‘I..would definitely slow down my career. For the longest time I didn’t even think of that as a possibility. But like you wrote quite perfectly; all my friends and family members had their children young and here I am..the oddball. I know I should not press my luck by demanding my partner to give up everything for me. That is just not fair.’

‘Give and take.’ I added.

‘Yes, give and take.’ He smiled at me, his large warm hand squeezing mine gently. It felt nice. ‘Okay..so another question. You live in London right?’ ‘Mostly, yes.’ He nodded, making me grin. ‘Yea yea..Superman has several mansions and a jet setting career that makes you quiver right back into your 2-bedroom flat.’ I rolled my eyes. ‘But all joking aside..why did you chose to stay with your parents, now you requested a “time-out”?’

Henry shifted in his seat, his smiling face turning to one holding a more serious expression. ‘I’m from the island baby. And I will always, ALWAYS return to the island. It is my one true home after all.’  

--

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[prettyinlimegreenboots]

"It's yours if you want it" for anybody you'd like :))

There are some cuss words up ahead. This may or may not be based on personal experience - you either love garage sales or hate them. Enjoy!!

The group, as they were affectionately known, had met up in their designated location (the Walmart parking lot) before designing the course of action. Race, Mush, Jack, and Albert took their Saturday morning expedition very seriously, while Kat, Spot, Blink, and Romeo were along for the ride.

“So today’s expedition will include at least 4 garage sales.” Jack scanned the crowd (well 7 people in front of him) with a grin. “Now I don’t want to hear any groans or complaints from the peanut gallery.”

Spot, who had his arm thrown over Katherine’s shoulder, rolled his eyes. “We know the routine captain pain in my ass. Can we get the show on the road?”

“Hey dumbass pipe down!” Jack gave his brother-in-law a look and shook his head. “Now we’re going over to McGoverness so there should be some hot ticketed items there. Everyone ready?”

The group was split into cars - Jack, Kat, Spot & Race in Kat’s Rogue and the others in Mush’s Sequoia - before heading over to the designated neighborhood. Race and Jack talked excitedly about their action plan and what big things they were looking for while Kat and Spot tried to keep the eye rolling to a minimum.

Pulling into the subdivision, Race groaned at the number of cars already pulled along the side of the road. “How about you go deeper into the subdivision - maybe not a lot of people are back there yet?”

“Good plan, bro.” Jack high-fived him before heading towards the back.

“Blink just texted and they’re going to check out the ones up front for anything good.” Spot mentioned as Race nodded. “Tell them to look for an air fryer.”

Spot raised an eyebrow at his husband. “What do we need an air fryer for? It’s not like you’re gonna use it.”

“Nope but you would snookums.” Race grinned at him batting his eyelashes.

Jack pulled the car up to a house that had a lot of stuff out, which caused him and Race to get really excited. The four got out of the car before walking to the sale, saying their hellos to the sellers.

Kat always gravitated to any books that were for sale while Spot always looked for vinyl albums. Race and Jack were the oddball ones - you never knew what they were looking for or what they’d walk away with.

Spot and Kat didn’t find anything and stood watching their respective husbands go through a free pile, each examining the random junk. “Hey Kat?”

She groaned as Jack called her over. Walking over to him, she couldn’t see what he had in his hands but could see the excitement on his face. “Yea?”

“Didn’t you have this as a kid?” He handed her a heart shaped play thing and watched as she popped it open. It was an old Polly Pocket toy and she smiled at it.

“Yea I did. I had a few of them growing up.” Kat thought back to her childhood and grinned.

"It's yours if you want it." An older woman smiled at the four of them. “My daughters used to love playing with them so it’s yours if you want it.”

Jack looked at his wife with a grin. “Want it?”

“What am I going to do with a Polly Pocket toy?” Kat shook her head at her husband. “It was great for nostalgia sakes but I don’t have use for one now.”

Jack gave her a look. “That might be worth something now.”

“It’s not like it’s a limited edition baseball card.” Kat shook her head, putting back in the free bin. “Thank you for letting us look but I think I’m good. Good luck with your sale.”

And with that, Kat went back to stand with Spot while Race and Jack finished looking. “What was that about?”

“Jack found a Polly Pocket and wanted to know if I wanted it.” Kat gave him a look.

Spot chuckled. “Doesn’t he know you have an entire bin in the attic?”

“Apparently not.” She shook her head. “Let’s head to the next house. They’ll figure out where we went.”

The two headed next door. They said their good mornings to the lovely couple sitting out front with cups of coffee. Kat nudged Spot and pointed to a table. “Twenty bucks, they each walk away with at least 10 cards each.”

“No way. They might walk away with 5 each.” Spot countered, looking at the baseball cards.

The man looked at the two with a grin. “I’m Earl and this is my wife Nancy. Do you know some collectors?”

“It’s nice to meet you - I’m Kat and this is Sean. Our husbands, who are brothers, have collected baseball and football cards since they were kids.” Kat smiled “We left them next door so they’ll be over shortly. You’ll hear them before you see them.”

The man stood and smiled. “This was my brothers and my collection from the 60s, 70s, and 80s. I’m sure there are cards your husbands haven’t seen.”

“Great, we'll be here for the next hour or so.” Spot grinned, hearing the playful arguing of Jack and Race.

“Those your husbands?” The man grinned, hearing the two before seeing them walk on his lawn.

Kat and Spot merely nodded their heads. “Make sure you drive a hard bargain. They love to hackle and bargain.”

“There you two went. We were worried you had taken the car and left us.” Race grinned. “Not like you haven’t done that before.”

Kat sighed. “It was one time and we needed coffee. Besides they have football and baseball cards here.”

She watched in amusement as Jack and Race both beelined it to the table and started flipping through the books. Despite her dislike of garage sales, it was always fun to watch Jack and Race get excited at finding a coveted card. Walking over to the pair, Kat gave them a look. “Anything good?”

“He’s got a 1970 Dick Butkus card that’s in my pile.” Jack grinned as Race scoffed. “You’re just sour because I found it first. I left you a couple other ones.”

Race gave him a look. “But that’s a classic card.”

“Maybe I’ll give it to you for your birthday or Christmas.” Jack said offhandedly as Race’s face brightened.

“Really?”

Scoffing, Jack snorted. “Yea like that’s gonna happen.”

Hitting her husband, Kat shook her head. “Grow up - you two are old enough to not be acting like you’re 9 and 7.”

“He started it.” Race stuck his tongue out at his older brother as Kat looked between the two.

“I don’t care who started it. Knock it off.” She looked over her shoulder. “Or else Earl and Nancy won’t sell you any cards.”

Race and Jack’s eyes went wide at her threat. “You weren’t over here long enough to be their friends.”

“Oh you don’t know what I could do in ten minutes.” She grinned. “Don’t test me.”

The two nodded before looking through the cards as Kat wandered back to Spot who was thoroughly amused. “Did you threaten them?”

“I had to pull out my mom voice.” Kat laughed. “They were acting like brats.”

They heard a squeal of brakes as the rest of their group piled out of the Sequoia. “Anything good here?”

“Cards - football and baseball.” Spot shook his head as the rest of the group headed down.

Race and Jack pointed some things out to Mush and Albert before heading up to pay. Kat and Spot watched the exchange between Earl and the boys grinning.

Soon, with a shake of hands, Jack and Race headed up the driveway, each grinning at their purchases. “Good haul, boys?”

Instead of answering, they fanned their newly acquired cards at Kat and Spot, while Kat held out her hand. “Fork it over, Higgins-Conlon!”

“What did you bet on?” Race cocked an eyebrow at the two as Spot slapped a $20 in her hand.

Motioning to the cards, Kat grinned. “The number of cards you two would walk away with. I said at least 10 each while Spot only thought 5.”

“It was unfair. It was before we knew the quality of the cards.” Spot grumbled.

Race leaned over and kissed him. “Awww snookums, sometimes we win some and other times we lose some.”

“Why do I love you again?” Spot grinned as Race threw his arms around his husband and kissed his cheek.

Jack, meanwhile pulled Kat into a hug and kissed her cheek. “Thanks for always coming on these. I know it’s not your favorite.”

“But it’s fun watching you get excited at finding coveted cards.” She kissed his cheek. “You get this funny little butt wiggle you do when you find one that’s rare or on your list.”

Spot looked over at them with a grin. “Oh the butt wiggle.”

“Keep your eyes on your husband’s ass and off mine.” Jack pointed at him with a playful glare, as the rest of the group joined them at the end of the driveway.

Jack looked at them grinning. “Any luck boys?”

“None. Shall we continue?” Albert shrugged.

Pointing to the sale a few houses down, Jack motioned them to head that way before grabbing Kat’s hand. “Love you. Let’s go on a garage sale hunt.”

“I’ll follow you anywhere.” She swung their hands, letting him lead her anyway he wanted. “What are you looking for?”

“Yard Sticks. Thinking of starting up a collection.” Jack shrugged as she gave him a look.

“We don’t need any more crap in the house. We’re busting at the seams already.” Kat shook her head. “If you’re gonna start that collection, then something needs to go. We don’t have the room.”

He tilted his head. “Then we need a bigger house.”

“No Jack, we don’t need a bigger house.” she sighed. “We need to clean out and get rid of stuff. No more collections until we clean out.”

Pouting, he squeezed her hand. “Please?”

“Nope.” She shook her head.

She saw the lightbulb click over his head as a grin slid across his face. “The baby’s room.”

“What about it?” She was hesitant to see where he was going with this.

“Well they won’t need it for a little while so we can put stuff in it.” Jack grinned, wincing at the slap that she landed on his arm. “What? That’s a brilliant idea!”

“No it’s not.” She shook her head. “That baby will have more stuff than you do in the next few months. Besides, keep your mouth shut unless you want our friends and family to know already.”

He glanced ahead at their friends who were turning into the driveway and didn’t hear them. “No more junk, Jack Kelly or you’re on the couch for the foreseeable future.”

“You’re mean Katherine Kelly.” He pouted, but still kissed her cheek. “But okay.”

“Grow up. God only knows how you’ll be a father in 7 months.” She rolled her eyes with a grin before leaning over and kissing him. “Go look but no buying yard sticks.”

Jack saluted her before making his way down the driveway causing her to laugh. The man drove her nuts at times but at least her life was never dull.

Thanks @cutesiewoojin for sending this in!

[danadeservesadrink]

Do You Believe in Fate Chapter 8

Hope You Didn’t Have Any Big Friday Plans

In which Scully learns of motherhood. Read on AO3 here

Tagging @today-in-fic

“Dana Scully speaking”

“Hope you didn’t have any big Friday plans”

“Why? Missy what’s wrong?”

“Well there was a bit of an accident at lunch today…”

“Melissa you tell me what’s wrong right now.”

“Mom’s in the hospital. She tripped down the stairs, fractured her leg”

“I’ll be right there”

“I didn’t even tell you which hospital!”

“Georgetown?”

“Yes. The emergency center. Room 305.”

“I’m already in the car.”

Scully rushed into the hospital, hurrying past doctors and nurses alike until she got to the emergency ward. A receptionist questioned her but must have seen the panicked look on Scully’s face before showing her on to room 305 at her insistence, where she walked in to find her mother laying propped up on a hospital bed, leg already casted.

“Jesus Mom what happened?” Scully asked, immediately fussing over her despite Maggie’s attempts to wave her daughter away. Scully made a mental note to ask for her chart later.

“It’s nothing dear, I’ll be fine. I tripped on my way downstairs, fell down a whole flight…”

“Did they check you for other fractures? Do you have a concussion?”

“Yes Dana, they checked everything. Apart from some minor bruising the only thing wrong is my leg.” Scully went to interrupt her again, but Maggie shot her a glare that silenced her. “I’ll have the doctor give you a copy of my x-rays but honestly there’s nothing you can do sweetheart. The doctor is very nice, and seemed quite competent.”

Scully seemed to relax, choosing to walk around the side of the hospital bed and sit in the vacant chair beside it, still critically eyeing the cast on her mother's leg.

“I’m sorry. I’m glad you’re ok.”

She reached out and grabbed her mother’s hand, who held it with a squeeze by her side. She looked around the room and only then noticed the absence of her sister.

“Where’s Missy?”

Maggie, sighed and dropped Scully’s hand.

“That's what I needed to talk to you about…”, she pressed her hand to the bridge of her nose, clearly thinking heavily on her next words. “Melissa took Emily home for her nap. And with me going to be out of commission for at least the next few months, were going to have to discuss who will be taking care of Emily.”

And the realization dawned on her that Scully had been so preoccupied with her mother and sister, she had completely forgotten about the whereabouts of her own fucking daughter.

“Oh. Can Melissa watch her…” she knew the answer before the question had even finished coming out of her mouth.

“Dana, your sister has her own life, her own job. She cannot just drop everything to look after your daughter.” She wasn’t shocked by the words, but by the frustrated tone with which her mother scolded her.

“Mom…” Scully felt her cheeks flush with shame. Maggie carried on, staring sternly at her daughter in the chair.

“You do remember that she is your daughter, right?”

Despite her mother being the one in the hospital bed, Scully felt like the one receiving surgery. She attempted to choke out a response but found her voice wasn’t working properly, she simply sputtered at her mother’s sudden accusation. Maggie’s eyes softened, but her voice remained firm.

“Dana no one knows more than me how much you’ve been through. And you know I will support you in any way I can but she’s your daughter. She’s your daughter and you’re going to have to get to know her some day.”

Scully stared at the linoleum floor tiles, her eyes mapping the grey outlines of the squares one by one in an attempt to stop the tears she felt forming. She could feel her mother’s gaze burning into her cheek.

“I don’t know how.” Her voice cracks as she speaks, and she hears Maggie sigh, but still can’t bear to look at her. “I don’t know how to be a mother to her. I’m scared I won’t do it right.” A rogue tear slips down her cheek. “She doesn’t even like me.”

Her mother grabs her hand again, and Scully can only see her concerned look out of the corner of her eye.

“Baby, none of us know. You don’t go into motherhood knowing exactly what to do, you just try. If you try your best, that will be good enough for her.”

Scully was still staring forward, so Maggie gave a gentle tug on her hand to get her attention. She looked up, the figure of her mother blurry through a haze of tears. Maggie leaned into her despite her restricted leg.  

“When Bill came along he didn’t like me much either. Cried every time I picked him up. He refused to eat, refused to nap”.

Scully had to laugh. Of course Bill was difficult, even as an infant.

“But I kept trying. I kept holding him, feeding him. And one day, he just stopped crying. I held him in my arms and he looked up at me with his little eyes and smiled. And I knew I had to have done something right. You kids all turned out ok, anyway.”

Scully smiled up at her, giving her hand a gentle squeeze back.

“Yea Mom, you did alright.” Both women laughed, and finally the tension was released.

“You have to give yourself a chance Dana. Give yourself a chance to be a good mom.”

-

Why was it that staring into the face of her own daughter made her feel so nervous? It wasn’t like she was scared of a baby. Or was she?  

Emily was sitting in her play-chair station, bouncing happily and spinning a little plastic ring. Scully sat with her hand propped up on her hand at the kitchen table watching her. She’d been stuck there for at least 10 minutes, just watching the child bounce and play, unable to interact with her but refusing to walk away to safety. Her child. Her mother was upstairs in bed, she’d put her there herself, insisting she needed rest. Melissa left to go back to her apartment, and she was now alone in the kitchen with a one year old, who she was quickly realizing she was more terrified by than any person she had ever known.

Dana pull yourself together. She’s just a baby.

“She’s your baby”, she whispered to herself, partially as reassurance and partially as a reminder.

When she first got back, after the shock of it all had worn off, when she had rational thoughts running through her head again, she ordered a DNA test for Emily. She didn’t tell her mother, or even Missy. She gets it done through a friend at the hospital, and she handed her back the results in an unmarked folder over private coffee. A manila folder holding a potential explanation of what had happened to her and it had taken her almost 2 weeks to open it. She was torn between wanting desperately for the truth and being terrified of it. Of course, she had thought through the possibilities before hand, being the logical person she was.

Option 1) She was already pregnant when she got abducted. It wasn’t out of the realm of extreme possibility. She had been seeing someone occasionally, the time-frame matched up, and though they had been careful, she knew the percentages. It was unlikely she hadn’t shown any symptoms, but again, she had read of instances where women hadn’t shown pregnancy symptoms until late third trimester. Altogether unlikely but not improbable.

Option 2) Emily was someone else’s daughter. This is what she had rationalized as the most likely answer, given her lack of pregnancy symptoms. The FBI suggested that other women may have been abducted by the same man. She may have stolen the child away during her escape and simply lost the memory. And when she held her, when her mother placed her in her arms and introduced Emily to her as her daughter, she had felt a startling lack of maternal feelings. Usually mothers who reconnect with their children document immediate connection, feelings of easy recognition, familiarity. She could have been holding a lively loaf of bread wrapped in a blanket for all the connection she felt to the little bundle of joy placed in her arms. No, Scully had convinced herself quite quickly that she was in possession of someone else's offspring. But that was before Emily sprouted little red curls from the top of her head. Before her mother pulled out a baby picture of little Dana and even she herself had to admit the resemblance was uncanny.

She opened the envelope at the kitchen table at midnight after she padded downstairs, long after her mother had gone to bed. She’d had another nightmare. Tests, needles, bright lights, the usual vague images plaguing her mind and dampening her brow with sweat. But that night, for the first time, she dreamed of her. Dreamed of the cry of an infant through the blinding lights, and felt her heart lurch at the sound. She woke with a scream just short of her lips, so scared not only for her, but for the child. It was then that she realized. She needed to know.

It was a flip of a coin, option 1 versus 2, neither one a best or worst case scenario. But she miscalculated. With some sick twist of the universe, the coin managed to land perfectly on its side and the rational Dr. Scully was presented with the previously unknown option 3.

She was hers, oh yes, that was undeniable. 46 chromosomes of Scully, in fact. She read the report 3 times, looking for the tiny differences to indicate the presence of two distinct genotypes combining to form one unique human, the way she was taught even back in her undergraduate classes. The natural order of things. The only viable way. She found no differences.

Emily was genetically identical to her, a perfect clonal match, down to the individual base pairs in her DNA.

Option 3 provided little answers and generated so many questions. So many questions even the well educated mind of Dr. Dana Scully couldn’t comprehend. The only solace was that when her mother asked her over tea at the dining table about the ever-so-sensitive subject of maternity, she didn’t have to lie.

Of course, that only spurred her mother on more. She kept subtly leaving the baby with her, asking her to hold it while she prepared a bottle or ran to the garden. It was obvious what she was trying to do, although Scully was obstinate to her intentions. To be honest, the idea of a daughter wasn’t what frightened her. She had always seen herself as a mother one day. She used to play dolls with Missy and Charlie when they were little, and she had fond memories of rocking little plastic dolls to sleep, pressing bottles to their unmoving lips and bossing her little brother around the playhouse insisting that she was too busy with the baby to take care of the chores. She worked with kids at the hospital, mostly got along quite well with them actually. She would have been happy to have a daughter of her own.

But Emily wailed every time Maggie dropped her into Scully’s awaiting arms. She screamed her lungs off for the first few months of her life every time Scully was even in the room. While Scully previously saw the merit of her mother’s actions, it slowly turned into a torture for both of them. So much so that Maggie stopped trying all together. After months of stubborn fits from both Scully girls, Maggie found it best to simply keep Emily in her own arms.

Until now.

She cursed the stairs, cursed her mother’s socks and their hardwood floors, cursed God, who was probably looking down at her and laughing. She cursed herself, a pathetic mother, scared of her own child.

Emily stopped spinning the little plastic rings. She grabbed at a stuffed duck, tattered and stained, perched on the side of the activity seat, babbling happily to herself. The duck managed to elude her little grasp however, and instead fell to the floor.

Immediately, Emily’s eyes welled with tears, and she banged her fists against the plastic surroundings of her seat, bouncing up and down and shaking the entire structure. The screaming started shortly afterwards.

Scully’s eyes widened as well, and she sprung out of her chair, dropping to her knees in front of Emily and grabbing the duck. She placed it in front of the wailing toddler, still bouncing and shaking in her seat.

“Look, here’s Ducky. Ducky’s here.” She shook the toy in her line of site, willing Emily to calm down, if only for the sake of her sleeping mother. Emily opened her eyes and saw the toy in front of her, suddenly ceasing her tantrum. She sniffled and took the doll from Scully, grabbing it rather aggressively by the neck. Scully laughed, despite her trepidation, as the duck was strangled by the fists of a toddler.

Emily looked up at her then, little blue eyes wide, satisfied by the presence of Ducky and intrigued by the giggle Scully let escape her lips. They were face to face, and Scully felt oddly self-conscious. She fixed the collar of her shirt as Emily regarded her. She didn’t cry, though her tantrum induced tears were still dewy on her cheeks.

Scully found herself bringing her hand up, slowly. It was shaking, in fact all of her was shaking, with nerves, emotion, whatever . She brought a hand up to Emily’s cheek and carefully brushed a wet droplet aside with her thumb.

Her skin is so smooth, she thought. She was scared the act of contact would cause the kid to burst into tears again, but still Emily simply returned back to looking at Ducky, who was arguably more interesting than Scully.

She likes the duck more than you. It was a ridiculous thought that caused her to chuckle again. Immediately, Emily’s eyes were back on hers. This time, she pursed her tiny lips, as if in deep thought. She looked down at the duck in her hands, back up at Scully, and then suddenly thrust the yellow duck towards her.

“Ducky” Emily said, leaning again towards Scully and pushing the toy at her. Scully responded with only a baffled smile, which Emily then returned in full toddler exuberance. A gummy, wonderful toddler smile, and for the first time, Scully felt a little twinge in her chest as she looked at her.

She took the duck. Emily clapped her hands together, giggling her own twinkling laugh, like windchimes in a gentle breeze. She then turned and went back to spinning the little purple plastic rings, unbothered by the exchange she had just participated in.

Scully, however, looked as if she’d seen a ghost. Or witnessed a miracle. She held the cloth duck like scientific proof of the unexplainable event, unwilling to let it go, gazing down on it in awe before the tears from before resurfaced.

On the floor of her mother’s kitchen in the soft light of the evening, Scully cried over a cloth duck. She cried over the softness of baby skin, over chromosomes and unknowns, and over all the shit she’s been through. She sank down off her knees and sobbed an apology to the little girl in front of her. She felt her body shake as she sloughed off the moths of feeling like a stranger in her own home, avoiding the kitchen during feeding time and her mother’s disappointed smile. She pressed the duck to her face, feeling the soft fabric absorb the tears off her own cheek, and she inhaled the scent of her daughter.

When the tears had subsided, she looked up at Emily still preoccupied with the little plastic puzzles. She leaned in, clearing her throat, and danced the duck along the top of the seat. Emily’s eyes lit up, and quickly she grabbed at the duck, pulling it in close to her face and hugging it with all the ferocity of a child’s love. She looked up and smiled at Scully again, and the idea that it was all a fluke flew out of Scully’s mind.

Scully reached over and brushed a tiny red curl out of her baby’s eyes, again feeling awed by the softness of her skin against her fingertips.

“Hi Emily”, she whispered into the still air of the kitchen, and Emily smiled at the sound of her name, clutching Ducky closer to her chest.

“I’m your mom.”

[bladekindeyewear]

Bloggin’ thru new Homestuck^2 bonus, The Influencers part 2.  Kinda got my gears ground during part 1, but that largely wasn’t this sideplot’s fault, so I should still be able to enjoy it.

Reminder, bonus update blogging is always light on detail because I don’t wanna spoil all the paid content, but I’ll give the gist of my reactions and go into anything plot or character related that helps understand the main story, as well as giving you a real top-down view of “what happens” so you know what it’s about and whether or not to invest in looking yourself.  (And I don’t necessarily have to give you anything that isn’t main-plot-relevant.)

So where are they going to follow the main party?  They shouldn’t need to record the funeral I’d assume, because that already would have been televised (and awful for Jane’s PR)...  *click*

9/28/2020 - The Influencers, Part 2

TEACHER: Time’s a-ticking. TEACHER: The next plot point is yours to change, if you want it. Don’t you feel it calling to you?

Yeah, just hanging a lampshade on this whole parallel sideplot I guess.

> (==>)

Whatever it is, Imode feels it. A tiny string of relevance spooling out from their belly. They want to follow it.

That’s pretty Lighty and/or Seery.  I’ve used that terminology to describe the pull of Light and its “relevance” connotations even since the only fanfic I’ve ever written, back in 2011 during Homestuck’s run, and it’s obvious enough terminology that I think Rose later mentioned it somewhere like in the Epilogues.  Are these three kids perhaps going to get a fourth, and become their own session by the end of this like Harry, Vrissy, Tavros and Yiffy might?

They can’t stop picturing their friend, Harry Anderson, arrested or tortured or worse. They’re not sure what there is to be done to stop this chain of events, but they’re sure as shit gonna find out.

(”They” is almost certainly referring to Imode here, not all three, since Imode uses they/them.)

Alright, self-aggrandizing used for good.  Show off the sort of thing that Vriska could have accomplished if she actually used her talents for her team for once.  (Besides, like, the similar thing she did just recently by making a scene.)

> (==>)

Imode is the first to choose pursuing this path over bootlicking, and the others are sure to follow.

> (==>)

Yup, Avril and Silas follow.  (Had to be reminded of ALL of their names, it’s been months since their single named appearance.)

> (==>)

Crockercopters overhead but none taking note yet, just ominous setdressing

> (==>)

IMODE: lemme take a ⏱️ to 😮‍💨 before we figure out where to go next. AVRIL: wait don't you know? IMODE: Huh? AVRIL: we were following YOU this whole time.

Oh, that answers the first question I asked.  They have NO clue where they’re going.  Let’s see if they luck out and find the clock tower.

IMODE: You 👂 what he said about the next step 📞 to us, same as i did. Don't you feel it pulling at you?

Literal pull? Powers? Future player?  --All baseless speculation of course.

SILAS: Woah are you seein’ this.

Vriska’s probably putting on her very public display now.  (This is a bonus so I’m skipping lots of banter and arguing.)

> (==>)

Oh, they just saw John flying up to the clock tower in his outfit.  And catching sight of him fly is rare celebrity gossip stuff so of course it’d stand out to them, apparently.  (Only one of them is athletic apparently, the other two are groaning at the prospect of more running.)

> (==>)

Avril always enjoys running, but there’s something else thumping along to the rhythm of the thuds of his feet and beat of his heart. He’d thought Imode was nuts for feeling it just a minute prior, but now he’s realized he isn’t deadweight, that he hasn’t fucked up someone’s life irrevocably, and it pushes him faster and faster as he tears ass toward the belltower.

(Did we know Avril was he/him before this?  Probably but if so I forgot.)

Okay, since we’re getting glimpses into each of their headspaces narratively that BOTH have had some oblique aspect references, I have to at least OPERATE on a guessy assumption that there’s a sort of classpect-for-each-of-them thing going here.

I’ve quoted both those whole paragraphs here... so what do I see?  This is going to be a bit tougher because I don’t care as much to remember these characters...

Imode had some Lighty-or-Seery language, and then could not stop picturing bad things happening to Harry, wanting to avert that chain of events.  So something of a Seer or Mage would make sense.  But given how easily Lighty stuff and the Understanding classes (or at least what we think those are) can be conflated, Mage of Light seems a bit of a premature jump.  Heck, I’m only saying Mage because a Seer of Light already occupies a starring role, and because her first act on that feeling was to jump after it herself and tell the others:

IMODE: Stay here and 👢👅 your way into fame if that's what you really want. IMODE: I’m ✈️. Follow me if you’re not 🐔💩.

--leading by example rather than directing the others into battle.  Only half-caring if they followed, willing to pursue it herself if necessary.  So, potentially more “Active”.

As for Avril... the word “heart” is mentioned there, sure, but the full context is “there’s something else thumping along to the rhythm of the thuds of his feet and beat of his heart”.  I’m inclined to think that the rhythm/beat references, especially the even footsteps and heartbeats hitting like a metronome, might be more tied to Time?  But if so, I don’t see anything class-related.  (Could also be Blood, and him thinking of what he owes in the last sentences could be reinforcing that?  Big question marks for now.)

> (==>)

Door to the belltower’s locked.  The kids figure John’s forgotten that his son can’t fly.

AVRIL: this is it, this is the thing we can help with! #feelinit #vibes IMODE: OK I'm excited that you believe me now, but what are you gonna even do? IMODE: use your big all-star 💪 to break down the 🚪?

--so they think they can “resolve a missing plot point” by getting the way into the clock tower open?  Is this going to be a theme or running joke of the Influencers sideplot, showing plotholes resolved in bonus content like how we finally saw how Gamzee’s body was relocated last time?  When I was explicitly mad about that?  (This seems like a much smaller one though.)

Apparently in HS^2 proper they remarked that the door SHOULD be locked, but Vriska just opened it anyway and wasn’t surprised it was unlocked, which she would’ve ascribed to her luck -- how the universe just makes way for her.  (And we’re literally seeing HOW the “universe” “made way” for her this way, through these Influencer kids.  Even though Vriska could have broken down the door in a second and it’s practically meaningless.)

> (==>)

Avril just has the key!

AVRIL: so like my photoshoots are like, #modernfashion #myworkout #urbexp IMODE: Yea, your 📸 are why we’re all in this mess. We know. Get to it. AVRIL: fair. ok well this is the urban exploration part. AVRIL: a lot of the public infrastructure buildings in the kingdom have the same weird, shitty deadbolts on them. AVRIL: its like they were mass-produced for ease of access or something. AVRIL: none of the deep crockergov stuff, but a lot of the kingdom maintenance buildings. AVRIL: so once you swipe one key, you got access to it all. AVRIL: that’s how i get a lot of my hard-to-get shots #tradesecrets #tellnoone

Hhhmmmmm.  So what does this tell us about his potential role?  Getting places you’re not supposed to is associated with the Thief, Rogue, Bard, and sometimes Knight classes... as well as the Time/Space aspects, or the Void and Breath aspects.  A Thief or Rogue of Time could do the trick, and fit with the rhythm paragraph earlier... whereas Space doesn’t have the same rhythm associations even if it is “places” he’s getting into for these shots.  And photography, snapshots still in time, is something Dave was also explicitly into.  Plus, this exploit he’s showcasing is specifically for older buildings, playing into history/archaeology from an urban perspective.

So, Time is looking like a safer and safer bet for him.

> (==>)

lock click

> (==>)

long-hair swoop, cheer

SILAS: Yeah, I’m tickled a near-disproportionate amount by the unlockin’ of a door, so I’m inclined to believe you were onto somethin’.

Still no real hints about Silas, yet.

AVRIL: ok so. we did it, right? #missioncomplete AVRIL: feels a little anticlimactic #tbh IMODE: idk, I think so? whatever I was feeling doesn't seem so immediate anymore. IMODE: I wonder if-

Okay, that’s some near-confirmation that Imode was LITERALLY FEELING the plot or some such.  We’ll probably end the Influencers sidestory eventually with at least solid GUESSES blatantly obvious for their potential Hero Roles or the like.

> (==>)

Ah, Vriska and the kids are coming-- and we get the Silas paragraph(s)!  Silas is green-themed with green text, and a session with a Time player has a good chance of having a Space player too, so let’s see if...

Silas doesn’t know what being spotted by the other kids might mean, metaphysically or logistically or legally. She’s not particularly pressed by that sort of thing. But this is a day that’s come with more introspecting than she’s used to having to endure in a year, so she's ready to get moving before it becomes an issue.

As Harry Anderson, Vrissy, Vriska, and Tavros proceed to have this conversation, Silas pushes to catch up with Avril’s pace. She’s not sure where they’re headed, and has no clue what all this means for her. She knows the step she’s taken isn’t one she’ll be able to backtrack from, but she’ll figure that out tomorrow. For now, one foot in front of the other.

That...

I mean there’s a lot of talk of time-FRAMES, from a lazy perspective, but just-pushing-forward-in-the-here-and-now is reasonably Spacey? ...hm.  I was excited for the Silas paragraph(s) but I don’t see any immediately-apparent pattern meant for us to discern classpect info here.  Maybe a female Page example (since we could use one), propelled along by events without knowing what’s going on at first, too early in her journey to have taken more than her first step up the gradual incline of her long-term potential?

I really don’t know I guess.

Anyway, that’s the end of the bonus upd8!  See ya in a while.

[lynndoublelegacy]

just a cool dnd meme i saw

Yook so it’s less a meme and more like. a big ol questionare but hey, might as well do it. originally saw it on @/probablyottrpgideas, go check them out

1. Game Master, Player, or both? Why?

Ok so technically I’ve DMed twice but I really don’t find it fun? and don’t ever want to do it again. so. Player. I like building characters and their connections with fellow PCs more than building worlds

2. When did you start roleplaying? How old were you?

oh god, if we’re talking about roleplaying in general? I’ve been doing it basically as long as I can remember. As a kid I would play House, and then once I got older in like 5th grade I actually started making characters and playing out their stories with friends. Google+ is what made me realize this was actually like, a THING, though, and I got into some roleplaying groups there, then on DevaintArt. Dungeons and Dragons is a newer development? I got into it in late 2018 when my sister’s friend invited us to a one-shot, and... well, yea, I got hooked lol

3. What was the first roleplaying book you ever owned?

dude, bold of you to assume I really own any. I don’t have that kind of money and literally only own the Guide to Wildemount, and that was a gift

4. Describe the first game you ever ran or played in.

I mean... it’s not a game but ima describe the one shot, bc my first campaign was a hot mess without a true storyline and I used the same character for it anyway. I played a tiefling bard called Aisling Kai (I didn’t know this was a cliche combo at this point, and I honestly played her like a rogue with a music motif but Whatever) and we were a little group tasked to figure out why the hell anyone who goes into this cave never comes out. So we go in, make our way through the dungeon, fight some frog people (I made one of their ears bleed just by getting a nat 20 on a performance check to play a high f# on flute, that was fun, FWEET), and turns out yep, theres a hill giant down here. We kicked his ass and collapsed the cave on top of us (dw I think we were fine but my memory is a little screwy)

5. What system did you grow up with? / 6. Which system do you play now?

i learned on and currently play dnd 5e. I don’t really know anything else, but I’m debating checking out Vampire of the Masquerade.

7. Longest campaign you’ve run or played in?

That would be my Tal’Dorei campaign group, aka The Fatefallen! Started in the Fall of 2019 and still going to this day, just played our 45th session last week. I play Ilia Liadon, the drow grave cleric, and the only member of our party who has been there for every single session since the beginning.

8. Where did you meet your current gaming group?

...well first I feel the need to mention that I have 3 different groups (2 of them are on hiatus now for pandemic related reasons but! we’re still groups). My first group (with Aisling) was formed slowly over time as friends adopted friends into the group, I think it started as a school club? but that didn’t last long. The other two started from a different school club as well, though one has since branched out into other people as well. 

9. Strategic combat or dramatic plotlines?

I am a roleplayer first and a gamer second. Give me all of the backstories and dramatic plotlines. Don’t get me wrong, I still like combat, but story takes precedent for me.

10. Favorite RPG genre?

I don’t tend to define myself by genre? But I tend to fall into more of a fantasy, at most arcanapunk style. Give me all of the magic, and magic powered tech.

11. Your first character.

I got into her a little bit earlier, but my first character was Aisling, aka Calypso Kai. She was a homebrew subclass bard with a criminal background, who honestly? should’ve been a rogue. I’ve since rebuilt her into an Assassin Rogue/College of Eloguence Bard multiclasser, but this iteration was like. Baby her, baby me new to dnd, I did not know what I was doing. She tried to be edgy, but my mom energy came through HARD and she just. Never really had a set characterization. She deserves better and I plan on playing her better sometime in the future.

12. Your favorite character.

You are making me choose between my children. BUT, if I had to pick, either Ilia Liadon, or! Ashe Wednesday, a protector aasimar drunken master monk and my profile picture. Ashe also deserved a lot better from their campaign, so I have a massive soft spot for them, they were made during a really tough time in my life (as was Ilia) and was going through an equally rough time in-game, since I made them for a Curse of Strahd campaign without understanding what I was getting into. They’re my little rebellious asshole and I love them dearly, someone get this kid therapy. Ilia, on the other hand, is just... she’s a comfort character for me at this point. mostly soft edges, such a mom- while Ashe was me yelling “come at me” at the world while crying, Ilia was just... embracing it. Making it better. basically, if they actually existed, I would die for both of them.

13. Your most ridiculous character.

I don’t usually play super ridiculous characters, but! I would say Keothi “Bookfinder” Vaimeil counts. She was basically me looking all of the goliath barbarian stereotypes in the eye, and going “nah. she’s a nerd.” She’s literally a massive puppy dog, just the sweetest big old thing, sitting in her house and reading all the books she can get her hands on in order to make up for her amnesia. Oh, and did I mention that she’s a zombie? ...yea. She’s wacky, but I love her.

14. The best in-character line you’ve ever had.

“I need sleep. I don’t even sleep and I need sleep.”

~Ilia, after a particularly tough fight and an emotionally draining day

15. Your most epic death.

Ok so... none of my characters in game have ever actually died during the storyline? Keothi obviously has in her backstory, and Ilia might have in hers as well, it was never explicitly stated, but during the game? Nope. Ashe got stupid close, but nope. Since Keothi is my only death period, and her death was pretty epic, I’m just gonna describe that. Her parents and siblings in her Goliath tribe had all fallen ill, so she decided to go searching for a possible cure, and ended up getting conned into helping this cult, since they said they would cure her family. Turns out, yea, they were lying, they just needed a goliath willing to sacrifice themselves with a cursed sword. They made the mistake of revealing this before Keothi was actually dead, so as she was dying, she brought the entire goddamn cultist temple down to the bottom of the sea and took the cultists with her. The sword was why she was undead, in the Shadowfell, and couldn’t remember anything.

16. Your most disappointing death. 

As mentioned, I’ve never died in campaign, but I feel like I have to mention this one that happened to our party in Curse of Strahd. We were in the death house, all 5 of us, still level 1, and our barbarian falls into a pit trap with spikes. None of us realize she’s actually dead, so we send out paladin down to get her... with the monk, the bard, and the warlock holding the rope. ....yea both of them died.

17. Something that shouldn’t have worked, but it did.

I’m stuck between two options for this one. First one was the time our water genasi paladin/rogue bloodbended our gnome cleric into a bridge to keep her from falling all the way down a ravine. The second time was when our party managed to defend a small seaside town from a pirate raid with just an NPC with Control Water, a ballista, ourselves, and some explosives. Neither should’ve worked, but both did. Having a triton in your party can really come in clutch in a seaside campaign.

18. Something that went hilariously awry.

I have one that’s hilarious and one that’s horrifying. Hilarious one: in my first ever campaign, someone from Aisling’s backstory popped up and our sorcerer went “that’s shady” (to be fair, he was) and then went to investigate BY HIMSELF. He obviously got kidnapped by the mafia, and then we went all stealth mission to break him out. Stealth was immediately abandoned after our other bard used a SCREAMING SWORD to break open the locks, then we proceeded to go out the way we came, setting everything on fire on the way out, and with our bard lying their way out the front door (with the rest of us in tow as “prisoners”) by pretending to be a fellow mafia member. It was great. Horrifying one: Ilia tries to Send to a member of the party who left in order to let him know that a fellow party member had died. Forgot that he left bc his mind was invaded by a previously dead, very evil old god, and ends up trapped there with him for a while. Ended up with all of our main spellcasters trapped in their own heads while the barbarian paced around worriedly and the rogue decided he was going to get smashed instead of worrying himself silly.

19. Your most memorable in-character moment.

There are a LOT in Ilia’s campaign, but! If I had to pick one, it would actually be a pretty recent one involving Ilia and our party’s wizard, Liara. They’re basically the embodiment of head vs heart? Anyway, Liara is currently suffering from something called magic corruption, though idk if suffering is the right word. Anyway! It basically resulted in her getting... possessed? by her own magic during the night during Ilia’s watch, and they had a really, really interesting conversation regarding guilt, death, and grief, and yea basically I love them. Honorable mention to our druid’s death (he’s back and better now, but that was my first long-time death in a game, we didn’t know he was coming back) and also the moment that Ilia realized that her childhood bff/crush had been revived in a new body and that this NPC was her best friend. That was a trip.

20. The coolest item you ever got and how you came to possess it.

I got this item in the revamp of my first ever campaign and nothing has topped it since which is Sad but hey. Anyway! I got this really cool, possibly cursed dagger after I threw a knife at an absolutely eldritch being and it got stuck in him as he transformed. It looked really badass, and allowed me to cast Inflict Wounds on occasion when I stabbed someone with it. So yea, we love that. Honorable mention to my paladin/bloodhunter’s Helm of the Aberrant Gladiator which allows you to basically do a bunch of fear based affects and psychic stuff.

Numbers 21 through 30 don’t apply to me but. yea. enjoy this summary of my dnd history I guess

[eddiesasspbrak]

When I’m With You Ch. 11

Eddie can’t stand the barista at his favorite coffee shop. Richie has fallen in love with the man he sees twice a week. Stan is dating someone but won’t let his friends meet them. Ben is in love with Beverly, but is so afraid of scaring her away he’s not moving forward. Chaotic friends navigating college together. 

(unedited chapter)

Ch. 1

Ch. 12

Read on AO3

5k+ words

Eddie woke up to the smell of bacon and the sound of low music coming from his kitchen. He sat up on the couch, yawning and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The blanket fell to his lap and all at once Eddi remembered why he was sleeping there. He and Richie must have fallen asleep while watching movies the night before. Not a terrible way to end the day, though Eddie was bound to have some back and neck pain from sleeping on the couch again.

Stretching, he stood from the couch and headed to the kitchen entrance. Richie was at the stove, cooking, music coming from his phone on the counter beside him. Eddie leaned against the door frame and watched him for a second, a smile on his face. No one had ever cooked breakfast for him before, besides his mother of course. The thought caused his chest to tighten and swell.

He crossed the room to Richie, leaning his hip against the counter and crossing his arms over his chest. Richie took his eyes away from the pan of bacon for a second to smile at him. His curls were messier than usual, a few rogue strands falling in front of his eyes.

“Morning.” He leaned down to kiss Eddie, but he stopped him with a hand over his mouth.

“I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.”

“Doesn’t bother me.”

“It’s gross.” He crinkled his nose.

“I don’t think anything about you could possibly be gross.”

Flustered, Eddie quickly changed the subject. “You really want to attempt cooking again after the spaghetti fiasco?”

“That spaghetti was still mostly edible.” Richie chuckled. “Breakfast food is actually something I’m good at. I ran to my apartment earlier and grabbed a few things. Your fridge is surprisingly scarce. How do you take your eggs?”

“Over easy and I order out a lot. As you saw, I’m not the best cook even with the easy things.”

“I cook most nights. You can start eating dinner with me.”

Eddie’s smile grew partially from the thought of having dinner with Richie every night, and partially because a bit of grease popped up on his fingers and he let out a string of curses. He was still grinning when he turned to Eddie and held up his middle finger. Both to flip him off and to show where the grease had landed, making his skin red.

“Kiss it better?” Richie asked.

Eddie rolled his eyes, but grabbed his hand anyway, bringing it to his lips. Richie took that moment to swoop in and press a kiss to his mouth, ducking away before Eddie could react. He stared at him wide eyed, having not expected that sneak attack.

“You should really brush your teeth.” Richie chuckled.

“Go fuck yourself.” Eddie said, smacking his hand away. Another pop of grease landed on Richie’s hand and when he looked to Eddie, all he said was, “You deserve it.”

Richie informed Eddie that he had the day off as they ate, and they made plans to spend the day together. After breakfast and cleaning the dishes together, Richie returned to his apartment to shower and get ready while Eddie did the same in his own. He didn’t know what Richie had in mind, he refused to tell him, but he insisted they’d spend the entire day together as neither had anything else they needed to do.

When Eddie was finished getting ready, he headed down the hall to Richie’s. He still wasn’t comfortable with the mouse, that would take a long time, but he at least had to expose himself to his place. Richie had informed him that even Ben had held Penny. He agreed to work up to it. Baby steps. He knocked on the door feeling stupidly anxious. There was no reason to be. It was just an apartment. The apartment of his new boyfriend. In the same building. It probably looked identical to his own, though expected it to be a hell of a lot messier. He’d deal with that panic attack when he came to it.

A second later, Richie was opening the door, hair wet and smile in place. He stepped aside for Eddie to enter and he was pleasantly surprised. He’d prepared for chaos, but it really wasn’t that bad. Maybe a little disorganized but not terribly so. It would probably drive Stan crazy, but it wasn’t enough to set Eddie off. He had a serious lack of furniture though. There was a small table with two chairs pushed up against the windows, the sides folded down to make it smaller for space. On either wall across from it were standing shelves, scattered with books, pictures, plants and knickknacks. The TV was propped on top of an old wooden crate with what appeared to be a peach painted on the side, the words too faded to read. There was no couch, instead there were beanbags and a swinging chair hanging from the ceiling that Eddie didn’t think seemed safe.

Eddie compared it to his own apartment, which was largely furnished by his mother. When she’d cosigned on the apartment for him, she’d taken him to buy new furniture giving her opinion where it wasn’t wanted. Because of that, all of his things were new and nice, and his place was so clean. Meanwhile, Richie’s looked lived in. Eddie could easily see an older couple both in finance living in his apartment, only using it to sleep. Richie’s apartment felt warm, more like a home than a setup that a realtor put in place. It kind of made him feel embarrassed of his own place.

“Make yourself at home.” Richie said, closing the door and heading back toward, what Eddie assumed was, the bedroom.

Eddie didn’t trust the hanging chair and the thought of the beanbags kind of grossed him out, so he made his way to the table and pulled out one of the chairs. The table was partially covered in mail but otherwise clutter free. Eddie looked up at the shelf beside him and examined the pictures both in frames and just propped up against things. There were some with Bev, some with Bill and Mike. One had an older couple that he assumed were his parents. It was in the nicest frame on the shelf. It occurred to Eddie then that he didn’t have a single picture on display at his place and thought he should fix that. It’s not like he didn’t have pictures with friends. He even had some from high school with Stan and Ben tucked away somewhere.

There was a plant Eddie couldn’t identify on the top shelf, tendrils hanging down and twisting around the metal sides of the shelves. It looked well cared for. A small cactus sat on a lower shelf in a small terracotta pot with flowers painted in different colors around the top. Across on the other shelf, was one of those little glass and stone fountains where the water fell like rain inside. Next to it was a small bonsai tree, though Eddie couldn’t tell if it was real or fake. Part of him wanted to explore the apartment, see what the rest of it looked like, but he’d have to wait until his next visit.

Richie emerged from the hallway, hair slightly dryer and shoes on. Eddie watched him move about the room and realized that he liked seeing him in his own environment. He’d seen him at the café, at bars, at his own place but this place was so very Richie. Eddie weirdly felt like he was getting a peak into Richie’s life. He’d told him a bit about himself already, but Richie hadn’t really spoken about himself much. He moved getting to know more about him to the top of his to do list. Now that he wasn’t denying his feelings anymore, he wanted to know everything he could about the man he was infatuated with.

“Ready to go?” Richie asked, turning to Eddie as he put his coat on.

“Yep.”

Eddie stood and followed Richie out the door, waiting for him to lock up. Richie wasted no time before grabbing hold of his hand heading down the hall to the elevator. Eddie didn’t mind. He thought it was cute that he wanted to hold his hand while they walked. Plus, he liked it. Liked being wanted, that he wanted to touch him in any small way. Show strangers that they passed on the streets that they were together. Eddie felt silly for feeling that way, but he couldn’t help it. He’d always wanted to feel that way with someone.

“So, where are we going?” Eddie asked as they exited the building onto the street.

“It’s a surprise.”

“Why does that make me not want to trust you?”

“You offend me, Eds. I promise you’ll have fun.”

“Yea, still don’t trust you.”

Richie laughed and briefly tightened his fingers around Eddie’s hand. “I’ll make you a deal, if you have fun then you have to trust me from now on, but if you hate it, I’ll let you plan all our dates from here on out.”

“So, this is a date then?” Eddie asked, feeling just a little smug.

“Our third I believe.”

“Second and a half. The first one didn’t start as a date.”

“Fine then. Two and a half dates in one week must be some kind of record though.”

“I think Ben and Bev probably hold the record. They’ve spent like every day together since last weekend.”

“Unfair advantage, they’ve been dating longer than we have.”

“Though you kissed me before they got together though.”

“Technicality.”

Eddie laughed and bumped his arm against Richie’s. It baffled him how he used to find his wit annoying. That felt worlds away now and Eddie was glad he’d moved past it. It was funny, really, how your entire outlook changes when you fall for someone. He was still annoying, for sure. Eddie just found it cute and charming now. He was making himself sick just thinking about it, he couldn’t imagine how a third party would react to his inner monologue about Richie. It was like Ben whenever he talked about Bev. He would be annoyed with himself.

When Richie came to a dead stop, Eddie didn’t notice until his hand was pulled back. He looked back at Richie, who was looking up at the building before them. Eddie turned to the building, a big block of a building with no windows and blackout glass doors. Above the doors was an obnoxiously bright orange sign.

“Ladies and the Tramps?” Eddie read the sign before eyeing Richie quizzically.

“Yep.”

“Where the hell did you take me? Some sex club based around cartoon dogs?”

Richie laughed, pulling Eddie toward him until he could grab his other hand as well. “Only the best for my Spaghetti.” He said before leaning in for a drawn-out kiss, making Eddie forget for a second where they were.

“Where are we really?” Eddie asked after breaking away from the kiss.

“An indoor trampoline park. Not as much fun as a sex club, but pretty close. It’s owned by this awesome couple and their daughter works here too. Hence whole ‘Ladies and the Tramps’ thing.”

“What the hell is an indoor trampoline park?”

“Come on.” Richie released one hand and dragged Eddie with the other toward the double doors.

The inside was just as brightly colored as the sign, only this was done in a rainbow of practically neon colors that hurt Eddie’s eyes. To one side was a wall of tiny lockers as well as some larger ones near the end. The other side of the room had a desk with a bored looking teenager staring down at her phone. She looked tired.

“Hey Jen, slow today?” Richie asked as they approached the counter.

“So far. No one comes in this early. Except for you. Freak.” She grinned, perking up considerably.

“Is that anyway to speak to your favorite customer?”

“You’re hardly my favorite. Who’s the new guy?” She looked Eddie over with a critical eye and he suddenly felt exposed for some reason.

“Just some hot tail I scored.” Richie winked at Eddie and he hated him for it.

“Fuck you it’s barely been five days. I can still back out.” Eddie said, attempting to pull his hand free. Richie refused to let go and after a second, Eddie gave up. He didn’t really want to let go anyway.

“Boyfriend?” Jen asked.

“Best one yet.” Richie tugged on Eddie’s hand, making him take a step closer to his side. “Either of your moms around?”

“Yea, mama Rose is in the tramp room. Go on in. Shoes off.” She pulled a lock from beneath the desk and set it on the counter

Richie thanked her and grabbed the lock before pulling Eddie toward the lockers. He followed Richie’s lead and took his shoes off, stacking them on top of his in the small locker. They also added their wallets, keys and phones. Anything that could potentially be dropped and lost beneath the trampolines or in the foam pits. Richie reassured him that Jen had all the keys kept safe and the front room was never left unattended. Despite what he’d said earlier, he really did trust him, so he piled all of his things inside the tiny locker and watched him lock it up tight. Their coats were hung on one of the hooks hanging on the wall near the counter.

Reclaiming Eddie’s hand, Richie headed through a second set of double doors. Eddie didn’t know what he had been expecting but it wasn’t…this. The entrance and surrounding most of the center, was foam flooring. Beyond that was a set of stairs leading up to endless trampolines in different shapes and sizes all fit together like a puzzle. There were two pits fill of foam cubes off to the two sides with platforms and a rope hanging from the ceiling.

“Ever been on a trampoline?” Richie asked, taking in his awed expression.

“Are you kidding? My mom would have had an aneurism.”

“Well mommy isn’t here.”

Eddie allowed himself to be pulled once more toward the trampolines, smiling. “Please don’t ever call her ‘mommy’ again.” He laughed.

Near the stairs was an older woman with a broom, sweeping up a small pile of dust and general debris that collected on floors. Richie waved as they approached and she grinned nice and wide at him.

“Rich, it’s been a while!” She said, pulling him into a quick hug.

“Hey Rosy. Things have been hectic with school and work. Not much time for anything else.” Richie sighed, looking up at the trampolines.

“Except dating?” She asked, giving Eddie the same once over her daughter had.

“He’s a special exception. Started as one of our regulars at the café. This is Eddie.”

Eddie felt his face warming and wondered if he was blushing. He hoped not. It just felt weird being talked about like that as if he weren’t there in front of them.

“Is that so? Well nice to meet you Eddie.” Eddie shyly returned the sentiment. “We’ve got a birthday renting the place at 5, but until then we’re open for anyone. You’ve got the place to your self for a while. Enjoy boys.”

With that, she took the broom and dustpan full of dirt and headed toward the double doors, leaving them alone in the large room. Everything echoed in there, the ceilings exceptionally high. Richie finally let go of Eddie’s hand as they climbed the short set of stairs up to the trampolines. He didn’t hesitate to step onto the bouncy woven nylon, but Eddie found himself a bit anxious. It was stupid. It was just something to bounce on and it was surrounded by foam. It was his mother’s voice in his head, and he shook it away when Richie reached his hand out. Eddie took his offered hand and stepped onto the surface of the trampoline.

It was a bit slippery in his socks, but not terribly so. Richie was grinning, watching Eddie’s face closely.

“You ready?” He asked, expectantly.

“It’s just…jumping right?” Eddie asked. Of course, it was. It’s not like he hadn’t seen others on a trampoline. He was just stupidly nervous.

Instead of answering, Richie began to bounce slightly, smiling like a dork with raised eyebrows. Eddie rolled his eyes and smiled as Richie began to jump, Eddie joining him a second later. Growing up, Eddie had always known that his mother was too overprotective. Controlling. She never let him have fun and had drilled it all into his head. It had taken so long to even start the process of clearing her voice from his head whenever he did something even slightly reckless. When he’d lost control for a bit, his first fear was that she would find out. It was always a fear. As long as he relied on her for anything, he would be afraid. He just had to make it through college without incident and then he’d be free.

In the meantime, he clutched at any little taste of freedom he could get. Being with Richie was freedom, ice skating was freedom, jumping on trampolines with him was freedom. It was enough for now.

Eddie watched Richie show off like a child and loved every second of it. He jumped until he was high enough to do flips and Eddie sat cross legged on the trampoline surface, never taking his eyes off of him. He tried to convince Eddie to give it a try, but Eddie was convinced he’d wipe out and didn’t want to embarrass himself. He promised to try when he was more comfortable with the trampolines in general.

However, Richie was able to convince him to try out the rope. He easily swung across to the platform on the other side, sending the rope back to Eddie. Despite his mother’s insistence that he was weak and fragile, gym class had always been a favorite of Eddie’s. He liked to run, and he was the first one in their class to reach the top of the rope in sixth grade. Holding the rope tightly between his hands, he pushed off the platform and jumped off the platform, wrapping his legs around the rope. He swung across, joining Richie on the other side.

“That was kind of hot.” Richie said, grabbing Eddie around the waist.

“Oh yea?” Eddie leaned in as if going for a kiss, but before their lips touched, he was shoving Richie backward, into the foam pit below. He followed him in, jumping from the platform.

“You tease!” Richie called from somewhere in the foam, struggling to get upright.

Eddie laughed, watching his efforts as he lounged comfortably amongst the foam. He wasn’t even thinking about how many kids probably peed in there. Well, not entirely anyway.

“Hey, how do you know the owners so well?” Eddie asked, taking the chance to ask while Richie was distracted.

“My first job when I moved out here.” He explained, making his way through the foam toward Eddie.

“You worked at ‘Ladies and the Tramp’?”

“I was an honorary lady. They took pity on me, I think. My family doesn’t have much, so I was pretty desperate for a job. I was hitting the pavement, familiarizing myself with the local businesses. They let me in for free when I told Rose I didn’t have any money. We talked about everything and I guess they liked me. Hired me on the spot.”

“Is that how you learned all those little flips?” Eddie asked, draping his arms around Richie’s shoulders when he got close enough.

“Jen taught me. She used to do gymnastics before she got bored of it and took to music instead. I’d help her with homework, and she’d show my flips.”

“You helped with homework? Did she fail?” Eddie grinned.

“I’ll have you know, I’m extremely smart. She passed algebra thanks to me.”

“Oh yea? Smart guys are pretty hot.”

Richie closed the remaining distance between them, smiling against his lips. His hands found their way to Eddie’s waist below the foam, pulling him flush against him. He pressed his tongue past Eddie’s lips and relished in the fact that he’d already become so comfortable kissing him. He didn’t hesitate to tangle his own tongue with Richie’s like he had before. Richie was vaguely aware that this wasn’t the place to get hot and heavy, but they were alone, and he just couldn’t resist. He wished he could take Eddie home and throw him on his bed, but he had to show impulse control until Eddie was ok with it. It was going to be a long, painful road as long as Eddie kept stirring up.

“Excuse me sir, there’s no kissing in the foam pit.” A voice from up above them on the platform brought them both back to reality quickly.

Eddie pushed Richie away from him as much as he could. They were both flushed, though if it was from the kiss or being caught, they weren’t sure. A different woman than before was looking down at them, a big smile on her face.

“Hey Kara.” Richie said, pushing his hair back with one hand, waving with the other.

“Richie. Having fun, I see.”

“Always have fun here.”

Richie headed to the edge of the foam pit, Eddie following behind him. Once at the edge, Richie lifted himself out, sitting on the wall, pulling Eddie hum a second later to join him.

“Kara, this is Eddie. Eddie, this Kara. Rose’s wife.” Richie introduced them.

“Hi.” Eddie only glanced up at her for a second, dropping his eyes again, ashamed.

“Hi Eddie. This is the first time I’ve caught Richie trying to cop a feel in the foam pit. You must be special.”

“Complete consensual, Kara. Eddie here can’t get enough of me.” Richie said, holding his hands up.

“Kill me now.” Eddie mumbled, falling back against the trampoline behind him.

Richie grinned and looked down at him, smoothing Eddie’s hair back with a hand. “Don’t be embarrassed because you love me, Eds. Kara is practically family.”

“Practically? Practically family doesn’t pay your first and last months rent so you can get an apartment.”

“I mean, Kara is like my second mother. I only wish that I was birthed from her loins.”

“That’s better.”

“Kara and Rose let me crash in the back room for a while when I worked here.” Richie explained. “They got sick of me hanging around all the time, so they helped me get my apartment. Cosigned and everything.”

Eddie sat back up and looked between them. He wasn’t sure what to say. He wanted to know more about Richie. He wanted to know everything. He worried he’d say the wrong thing and Richie would stop sharing so openly. It wouldn’t be the first time Eddie had said something without thinking and accidentally offended someone. He wasn’t exactly known for his social grace. He blamed his mom for trying to keep him for socializing with his peers as a kid.

“Does this mean you brought me to meet your family on our second and a half date?” Eddie asked, hoping that was an acceptable response.

Both of their smiles reassured him that it was ok and he visibly relaxed. Richie’s arm came around his shoulder, pulling him against his side.

“That’s exactly what this is.” Richie said.

*

After the experience at Ladies and the Tramps, Eddie felt light and happy. Kara and Rose treated them to pizza for lunch before they headed out. They seemed to have a bet going over who could embarrass Richie more. Jen won when she told Eddie about the time Richie had been showing off on the rope and managed to get his food tangled. He hung upside down for five minutes while Jen tried to calm her laughing enough to help him down. Eddie had laughed along with her and the story earned her an affectionate headlock from Richie. It was like being having lunch with his boyfriend’s family, and Eddie felt closer to Richie somehow.

They left with the intent of heading home. Richie said he had something he wanted to show him. Part of Eddie hoped that meant he could see more of his apartment. He wondered if he was getting a little obsessive with wanting to absorb as much as he could. It was the first time he wanted any of this. He’d had crushes before but never bad enough to want to know them the way he wanted to know Richie. It was like he’d made a home in a corner of his brain and wasn’t planning to leave. Eddie thought he might be ok with that.

The worst part about having Richie on his mind 24/7, even when walking beside him, was that he lost himself in his thoughts. If he’d been more observant of his surroundings, he might have seen the patch of ice on the sidewalk. He and Richie weren’t holding hands this time, so there was nothing to keep him from slipping when he stepped directly onto the small patch. His foot slid back, causing him to lose his footing and land directly on top of it. He didn’t fall too hard, putting his hands out in time to catch himself slightly. Still, the palms of his hands stung and from the pavement and rock salt peppering the street. Richie immediately stopped, turning to check on him.

“You ok?” He asked, offering a hand.

“Yea.” Eddie said, taking his hand and allowing himself to be pulled up. “What’s the point of salting if you’re going to miss spots?” Eddie grumbled.

“How’s your ass? Need me to kiss it better?” Richie grinned.

“Touch my ass and I’ll break your fingers.” Eddie did think he’d have a bruise the following day and the seat of his pants were uncomfortably wet now. When Eddie tried to walk again, a pain shot through his ankle and he grabbed onto Richie for support as he lifted it. “Fuck. Ok, maybe not as ok as I thought.” He winced.

“What’s wrong?”

“My ankle. I landed on it and twisted it weird. Dammit. I’ll be fine, I just need to sit for a second.”

Richie helped Eddie over to the nearby bus stop. He sighed once he was sat down, though he could have done without the wet pants now clinging to him soaking through to his briefs. Richie crouched in front of him and gently rolled up his pants leg to get a look at his ankle. Eddie leaned forward to see as well. It was already swelling and bruising.

“I think we should probably take you to the emergency room, Eds.” Richie said, looking up at him.

“No. It’s fine. I just need to ice it.”

“I don’t think so. It’s better to get it looked at. It could be broken, sprained at the very least.”

“Fuck.” Eddie sighed. “Fine but I can’t walk.”

Richie rolled his pants back down and stood, pulling his phone from his pocket. He sat with Eddie while they waited for their uber to arrive, helping him into the backseat when it did. The ride to the emergency room was silent, Eddie’s eyes focused on the streets passing by beyond his window. When they arrived, Richie asked the driver to hang out for a second while he ran in to get a wheelchair for Eddie. When he returned, he helped him from the car into the chair. Eddie felt stupid and being in the emergency room, in a wheelchair, brough back terrible memories of his mother.

Check in went easily, but Eddie was reluctant to give his insurance information. It was his mother’s plan and she’d know something happened. He wanted to pay out of pocket but couldn’t afford it even if he emptied the account his mom set up for him. The anxiety only grew from there, the wait to be called back excruciating. Richie kept in gentle contact with Eddie while they waited, offering what little comfort he could.

Richie pushed the wheelchair when they were finally called back. A nurse took his vitals and asked a few questions before leaving them to wait again. When the doctor entered, she introduced herself as “Dr. Lisa” and immediately sat in front of Eddie to check out his ankle. She rolled up his pants leg and carefully remove his shoe and sock, though it still hurt when she did. She moved it around, asking if it hurt from one position to the next. Eddie wince with each new movement, gripping the arm of the wheelchair tight.

“I don’t think it’s broken. A fracture or sprain are likely. I’ll have to get an x-ray to know for sure.” She said, standing and heading to the door. “Someone will be here soon to take you down.”

They sat in silence while they waited, Richie staying behind when they finally came to get him for the x-ray. They should be back at Richie’s apartment, relaxing and spending time together, not in the emergency room with an injured ankle. Eddie’s anxiety was only getting worse as he thought about what would happen if his mom knew he was injured badly enough to call for an x-ray. After the x-ray and even more silent waiting, Dr. Lisa finally returned to the room.

“It’s a sprain.” She said flatly. “I’ll set you up with a brace and some crutches. Just try to stay off of it for a few days, keep in elevated and take some ibuprofen if you have any discomfort.”

“We’ll do that.” Richie said, looking concerned at Eddie’s scared face.

“I’ll get the brace and you’re good to go.” She left them in the room for a moment and Richie turned all of his attention to Eddie.

“You ok?” He asked, unable to stay silent any longer.

“No. I’m not ok. I’m going to have to tell my mom what happened because it’s her fucking insurance and she’s going to go ballistic.” Eddie was breathing heavy, nearly hyperventilating, his fears overflowing at last.

“It was an accident. You weren’t being reckless, you slipped on ice.”

“Doesn’t matter. She’s insane. She could very realistically try to pull me out of college and make me move home over this. You don’t know what she’s like.”

“You don’t have to go. You’re an adult.”

“She pays my rent, she buys my food, she gives my spending money, she pays for my college! If I don’t go, she’ll take everything away so that I don’t have a choice!”

Richie cupped Eddie’s face between his hands and forced him to look at him. His eyes were soft, hoping to communicate comfort toward Eddie. “Hey, it’s ok. I won’t let her do that to you. Neither will the others. If she won’t pay for school, there’s loans, financial aid. It will be fine. You can move back to the dorms for a while, look for a job. We’ll take care of you, ok?”

Eddie’s eyes searched Richie’s face for a moment before he nodded, his breathing beginning to regulate again. He closed his eyes and leaned into Richie’s touch, allowing him to pull him forward into a hug. His forehead collided gently with Richie’s shoulder while his arms surrounded him, big and warm. Eddie felt calm coming over him slowly, bit by bit.

A moment later, the doctor returned with the brace and crutches. She helped Eddie put it on and showed them both how to remove it and put it back on without aggravating the sprain. She said her goodbyes and then left them again. Eddie grabbed his shoe and Richie pushed him toward the door. When all was done and they were finally free from the hospital, a good hour or so of their day lost, Eddie was calmer but felt sick still. It was like waiting for the bomb to drop.

They took another uber back to their building. Eddie felt awkward on the crutches, unstable on the moving elevator. Richie decided his thing could wait for another day and focused on getting Eddie onto his couch, foot propped up on cushions. He retrieved a glass of water and ibuprofen from the kitchen for him, sitting on the edge of the couch beside him.

“Best second and a half date ever, huh?” Eddie asked sarcastically before Richie could say anything.

“Would it be insensitive of me to bring up that fact that you didn’t get hurt ice skating on a huge rink, but managed to end up in the hospital from a tiny spot on the sidewalk?” He asked.

Eddie smiled, chuckling. “Extremely.”

“Alright, I won’t say it then.” Richie grabbed hold of Eddie’s hand bringing it to his lips to press a kiss to the red flesh of his palm. “Maybe it didn’t end like planned, but it started good, right?”

“I don’t know. The sprain sucks, my mom inevitably finding out about this suck, but I did get to see you all serious and take charge. So not terrible.”

“That’s what you’re into, huh?” Richie asked.

“The ibuprofen helps with the pain in my ankle, but not the pain your attempts at flirting cause.”

“Don’t pretend like you don’t love it.”

Richie settled into the end of the couch as they agreed on a something to watch on TV, ignoring it to talk instead. Richie thought he wouldn’t mind if every date ended with them on Eddie’s couch.

[iwritethat]

Older Batsis: Birds

Request: More badass older Batsis~

A/n: When your bros find out you have a secret tattoo, but asking your scary sis about it takes guts.

>>>>—————————>

Having you as their older sibling could be... difficult. They knew you respected them and at least acknowledged them as your family members of sorts, despite the fact you refused to work with them. Ever.

They assumed you got your independent attitude from Bruce Wayne, your vigilante father figure, except when you sternly told the Justice League or anyone else for that matter that “I work alone.” they immediately believed you. Batman just didn’t have that lone wolf aesthetic with his deadly following of birds and batgirls.

Dick was probably the only one who remembered the warm heart underneath the frosty scales of your armour, you didn’t team up with them nor did you really stick in one place for a lengthy duration of time so when you rocked up to the Batcave with an arm slung over Wally’s shoulders they instantly paled.

.

“Hey Dick, pretty bird here flew from the nest and isn’t in the best of shape.” The speedster briefed your family, although you were balancing on the verge of semiconsciousness you pushed away from Wally with scoff.

“I’m fine alright... why’d you bring me here? Ah shit!” Pain sprinted through your nervous system and you instantly found yourself swooped up into the scarlet speedsters arms again.

“You’ll thank me later, I promise but even if you never forgive me I’d rather you be alive.” West gazed at you with concern filling his emerald irises and carried you over to the medical bay where he was met with Alfred and Bruce glaring at him.

It was expected that you remove you outer layer so the wounds were reachable but upon Alfred’s request you flatly declined.

“Not happening, at least not until I’m given some privacy.” This hushed the interrogation from your brothers who left the room because they weren’t stupid enough to argue with you, Damian was but Dick ushered him out before he could speak.

They’d definitely return, you regretfully couldn’t avoid your family forever even if it was to protect them. After Jason died, you all went your separate ways as your family were too broken to repair themselves when you attempted communication - they pushed you away in their state of grievance, so you stayed away. Bruce was seething at Wally for having to be saved - not that it was his fault, the man was protecting hostages at the time and you couldn’t exactly let the Flash die, it’d leave Central City unprotected and you were not replacing him. The Rogues would piss you off too much.

Alas you were correct, whilst preparing to leave since Alfred ensured you were at least stable (no prolonged stay necessary/wanted) and slipping on your jacket when Dick burst in.

“Woah wait you’re leaving?!” Upon hearing his yell, Tim and Jason bolted over from the Batcomputer to correspond a farewell.

“Just like that? (Y/n) stay for dinner or something...” Jason muttered, tugging your jacket to gain your attention although their surprising discovery muted oncoming persuasion.

“I didn’t know you had a tattoo!” Tim excitedly commented marvelling at the work depicted on your shoulder blade where your jacket had fallen to reveal your camisole underneath.

“Shit...”

“Is this what you didn’t want us to see earlier (L/n)? It suggests it is meaningful to you.” God you didn’t even hear Damian come in but he deduced the situation quickly, the boys immediately even more involved plainly to bug you like the little brothers they were.

“It’s nothing. Now move.” You coldly replied, securing your jacket to hide the object of their heightening intrigue.

“4 birds though?” Dick mindlessly stated, brows furrowed as he thought through numerous possibilities whilst you brushed past them toward the exit.

You gave an exasperated sigh, knowing that they were considering the meaning behind your creative secret but you were more focused on disappearing.

“It’s us!” Tim smugly clarified, smirking at your frozen figure. Damn his superior detective skills.

“...”

“Timbers, our badass, cold hearted sister would never.” Jason sternly stated, referring to your usual uninterested nature.

“He’s right. Tim is right okay?” Mostly you wanted Jason’s way of thinking to be the stereotypical view of you but it was overshadowed by your underlying love for them which was displayed by your defeated posture.

.

With a deep breath to replenish your confidence, you began by stripping your jacket, turning away from them to hide your expression and expose your detailed artistry.

“There’s 1 for each of you because I never want to forget, if something ever goes wrong then this is my anchor. Anyway, this bird represents Dick, it’s wings are spread because he’s always flying. He’s not afraid to fall and I admire that... but if he ever does I’ll be there to catch him.” The sincerity in your tone set them all on edge as you pointed to the highest bird, it was unexpected as they never believed you truly viewed them that way.

With their bewilderment, you continued, the action made easier being blind to their facial reactions. “Hm. That one is Jason’s-“

“The feathers are falling, it’s because I died I’m guessing.” The tallest commented, quite abrupt about the subject but you immediately corrected him with voice of determination.

“Originally it never had the falling feathers it was - still is the brightest colour since you were so full of life and intelligently bright too. I added them after you returned because I let you down, you lost apart of yourself but no matter what, you continue to fight. You’re so strong Jaybird, y’know that?”

“(Y/n) you-“ Before he could pipe in you briskly moved on, running your finger down your skin to pinpoint the next target.

“Smallest one is Damian, not due to his height but because he has the most room to grow and I can’t wait to see it. That bird has the kindest eyes, to match Dami’s heart.” A brief smile crossed your lips at that and you could only hope they’d wear one too.

“And the final one is for Timbers, the bird looking like it’s landing, he found his home here or at least I’d hope so. I wanted you to feel welcome and loved Tim, despite what you have to put up with. Even from me.” You hadn’t realised the lone stream staining your face, nor the crack in your voice during the final sentence but the boys likely picked up on it.

Your hand fell back to your side, their ongoing silence lead you to feel uncomfortable, you’d shredded your armour both literally and figuratively before them and they had nothing to say which encouraged you to throw on your jacket, stealthily wiping your eyes in the process. This is why you kept your feelings hidden, buried under sarcasm, silence and mild violence (you were a vigilante after all).

.

“Heh, but whatever. I better get outta here anyway, later losers!” Your tone was quiet and mildly awkward, shrugging off the previous soft atmosphere with a defensive insult.

“Hey, uh check this out. Ridiculous right?” Jason started, hesitantly grabbing your fleeting shoulder to show you an old battered photo he’d dug out of his jacket pocket. It depicted the two of you and Dick pulling immature faces, a joyful moment captured in time before his death.

“Yea-yeah... that’s so stupid Jay.” Neither of you meant it, the insults conveying a deeper sense of emotion to one another.

“Not as stupid as that.” Tim gestured to the handwritten instructions taped to the Batcomputer, the ones you’d given him when he first arrived as a guide. The boy picked it up so quickly that you didn’t think he even used them, let alone kept them.

“Don’t give us the cold shoulder (Y/n). We’re here for you, like you are for us.” Dick grinned, pleased with his remark.

“Right, because you guys have always got my back.” Was your unimpressed but amused reply, though Jason couldn’t resist the urge to mock you.

“I mean the tattoo is on your shoulder but nice try sis.”

“Your sense of humour is insufferable.” Damian muttered, he’d heard enough puns from Dick Grayson to last him a lifetime or 3.

A small laugh escaped you as you waved goodbye to your brothers, feeling like you’d strengthened your bond with them.

They were a good family, your tattoo would always remind you of that - maybe that was why you chose your shoulder blade? Because they’d always be looking over your shoulder, because you’d always have their back and they’d have yours. Because they were your little birds, not matter how tall or muscly they get.

.

-Bonus-

“Hey Wally, did you know about (Y/n)’s bird tattoo?” Dick casually asked his best friend once he returned from Bruce’s lecture.

“Obviously, it’s kinda hard to miss. It’d be even worse if I didn’t know about it.” Wally honestly responded, hands lazily shoved into the pockets of his black hoodie.

“...”

“Uh huh, and how exactly do you know about it?” The suspicion in Tim’s tone immediately caused the speedster to rethink his choice of words, they were playing him.

“We - um, why does that matter exactly?”

“As family, it’s of importance so I suggest you start talking West.” Damian lowly answered, hand placed over the hilt of his katana displaying his lack of patience for Wally’s sassy comebacks.

“(Y/nnnnn)!”

[nightstalkerhunterguardian]

Deafened Silence

(Just a little word vomit to paint a clearer picture of my girl, Kano, the little depressed and cripplingly anxious shit that she is and her curiousity on the Drifter. And again, I really wanna thank @guardian-headcanons for the inspo. The past few months haven’t been so nice to me and I didn’t really think I’d be able to get back to writing. Thanks.)

-

He had been set up in the tower for about a week now and she still knew nothing about the rogue light bearer, where he came from, why he was here, nothing. She didn’t make it a point to go searching for him after his little spat with KillShot, not liking what he said, but she made it a point to keep track of everyone in the tower regardless of whether or not she liked them.

And so, instead of hiding in her apartment for the rest of the night or passing out in her ship, she silently sat in the corner beside the gate that separated the Drifter from everyone else and drew in her book while listening to what was going on inside.

Nothing strange. The clatter of items shifting in a duffel bag every so often, a few mutterings to himself, and then the cranking of a wrench. Maybe a screwdriver turning. For a second, she thought she heard the sound of duct tape being unrolled but she simply shook her head and rolled her eyes as it wasn’t necessarily a surprise.

“Whoo, well alright alright alright. Look at you there, sittin’ pretty”, she heard him say as metal continued to slide and lock together. It didn’t come across as strange to her that he talked to himself and his weapons. She’d almost be willing to bet he talked to the soda machine, too.

“You’re a lot more different when you’re quiet and not raisin’ hell, ya know that?”

He was right on that point. Guns were different when they weren’t firing noisy round after noisy round. It gave you time to appreciate the engineering of the item, it’s shapes, it’s quirks, how you had to handle it differently from others.

One thing she couldn’t fault him for was his survival tactics and his appreciation for good weapons. You gotta do what you gotta do to make it and he knew how to make the best of a shit situation.

“So, you gonna sit in that corner all night spyin’ or are you gonna bring your hind end in here and chat with me a spell? I got whiskey”.

She silently chuckled. Of course he knew she was there. The man didn’t make it this long without staying on his toes and it was a bit naive on her part for thinking she could sneak up on him. Kano rose from her spot and tucked her book away before ducking beneath the gate and into Drifter’s corner. His back faced her as he continued to tinker with the gun on his table.

“Ya know, if I wasn’t lookin’ for ya on purpose, I’da never known you were there, sister. Not bad”, he said, wiping his hands over his chest before turning her way. She cocked a brow at him, wondering what exactly he meant by that. He smirked in return.

“Oh, please. You think I don’t notice you perchin’ yourself up on the rooftops like a little bird, watchin’ everyone? But don’t take that as an insult, oh no. Far from it actually. I’m real impressed, in fact. Course, you have taken down a god or two so that ain’t too suprisin’”, he shrugged with a smile. Not a comforting smile. That smile always said he was up to something. At the current moment, the only thing he was up to was pouring a couple of small glasses of whiskey, passing one to Kano as she sat cross legged on the floor, her back leaned against the stack of junk along the wall.

“But anyway, what brings you over here to my humble lil corner? Need a few Gambit bounties? A cloak? Or did you just wanna visit with the Drifter?” He raised his glass and she did the same, clinking them together.

“Guess we’ll drink to Cayde and your lost buddy, huh? To the dead. Maybe we can learn a thing or two from ‘em”.

She swirled the alcohol around in her cup, watching it twirl in an amber vortex before taking a sip. Her face scrunched up at the burn as she swallowed, feeling it warm her body up and she shook her head.

“Heh, it’s always good to keep some o’ this around. Keeps ya warm on harsh nights when you don’t got much else”, he said. Kano let out a harsh breath and growl in an attempt to get the burn to stop as she took a sip of water from her hip canteen. Drifter laughed, taking a large swallow from his own cup and sucking his teeth a bit at the burn.

“...why are you here?” She slowly said, her voice a bit low and scratchy. He threw up a brow in surprise and chuckled.

“Well, would ya look at that? She does talk after all”, he teased. “And here I thought you was gonna be givin’ us all the silent treatment forever. As for your question, cause why not?”

“Why now? Why after Cayde? Who are you? What’s your end game he-“

“Whoa whoa, sister, now hold your horses. We ain’t even gotten to the second date yet and you’re already tryna get personal on me. For now, let’s just call it business and fun, alright?” He continued to tease with that smirk. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with helpin’ out and makin’ people a few hundred glimmer richer at the expense of some enemies and taken, huh?”

She frowned but took another sip of her whiskey, this one bigger than the other.

She had questions and she wanted answers.

-

Woooooord vomiiiiiit. I have a real love/suspicion thing for the Drifter. I know he’s up to some shit but I love him.

Btw, if anyone wants to know, I’m on PS4. I’m LobselVith94. Find me.

Also, constructive criticism and comments is cool. So yea. Please leave some of those things too. Thanks.