#i just wanted to write something and this was in my drafts so i just vomited words lmfao

[nicodiangelato]

Here's what I do that helps me get stuff done on time without stressing myself sick:

Split tasks up into their bare, basic components. Then, make a checklist of each component. Planners are my best friends, because I have an easier time remembering to do something if I write it down.

I find it a lot easier for me, motivation wise, to get through an essay by writing :

"do research/ find sources,

find quotations and create citations,

create an outline,

write paragraph (1,2,3, etc.),

edit rough draft,

create final draft"

because I can check off each little part and still feel like I'm making real, tangible progress vs. just putting down "turn in essay by (deadline)" in my planner.

Then, figure out what's the absolute *bare minimum* you need to do each day (or any other incriment of time that fits your schedule) to meet your deadline. Whatever it is, make sure to add an extra day or two as padding, so you can meet that deadline even if something comes up. Don't be afraid of asking for extensions or setting up accomodations. Be realistic with your limitations and time constraints.

For example: I have 5 hours of lecture I need to get through over Thanksgiving break to meet a deadline. Over 6 days, I need to watch at least 45 mins of a lecture each day. For me, 45 of lecture time is doable over a day because I know I dont have to do it all in one sitting. Realistically, I know it will take me anywhere from 1-5 hours to watch and take notes for these 45 minutes of lecture, because I am preemptively assuming I will need to take some breaks in between.

Breaks: when I get bored, I dont fight it. Instead, I take time to pivot. This is particularly helpful when I find myself doing something I have no interest in, and my brain does not for any reason want to let me do it. I take the time to scroll aimlessly, but also to get a drink/eat/use the restroom. I'm actually writing this while on a hw break right now. And when I get back from my break, all my stuff is in the same place where I left it at my desk, so I have a much better time easing my way into being productive again. If I still don't wanna work on what I was before, I start working on something relatively quick & easy from my to do list that I *do* want to do and ride the wave of productivity I get from finishing that.

The last part: reward yourself for the small victories. Yes checking things off a to do list is fun, but so are stickers. My planners are FULL of gold stars, smiley faces, and cute character stickers. There's a reason teachers use them, they are amazing motivators.

There's a bunch of adhd advice out there that's like "people with adhd tend to work better under deadlines due to the anxiety so here are ways to artificially induce a stress response in order to get you to get work done" and it's like well what if I don't want to be stressed out all the time in order to function

[felassan]

David Gaider on Cassandra (the last of these retrospective character threads), under a cut for length:

"This is the last of the (major) characters I wrote during my time on Dragon Age. I could go into others, and considered moving onto Stray Gods... but I feel like fewer would be interested, and I honestly can't keep up the pace. So let's make this the last, for now. So, yeah. Cassandra. We knew early on that Cassandra would come into DAI as a companion, along with Varric, that this was part of what DA2 set up for the sequel. Now, I'd written Cassandra's short scenes in DA2, yes, but I wasn't her writer for DAI. Initially, she was Jennifer Hepler's character. By mid-project, in fact, Cassandra was more or less fully written. Jennifer did a great job - solid character, solid quest. The sticking point, it turned out, was her romance. Now, to be fair, Jennifer told me straight up when we began that writing romance wasn't her forte, but she'd give it a go. The problem with the romance as she wrote it wasn't in its execution but more a clash between the character as Jennifer envisioned her and the requirements of her being a romance. See, I mentioned previously that a romance arc inherently limits the kinds of stories you can tell with a companion. Many responses I got can be summed up as "lol skill issue", but consider this: a companion romance isn't a fic you can just throw up on AO3. It's an investment of a lot of resources. If a companion has one, most of their resources need to be devoted to it - it's not "now let's ALSO add a romance"."

"That means it needs to take priority in who they are as a character and their arc. What's more, they need to be *appealing* to a big chunk of the player base - or at least someone we can imagine being broadly appealing, anyway. Thankfully, there are still many many stories this can accommodate. 😊 This, however, wasn't one of those. Was Cassandra a fascinating character? Absolutely. Her romance, though... Well, Jennifer DID warn me. She'd written Cassandra as a serious, self-righteous, pious woman who put the Inquisitor on a messianic pedestal. Romancing her meant changing her view of you. You did this by being... pushy. Jennifer didn't mean it to, I'm sure, but sometimes it came off as, at best, negging. At worst, a bit harassy. And Jennifer would have fixed it. This was a 1st draft, and the issues - while serious - were something a skilled writer like her could handle. No problem. Thing is, Jennifer left. You may not remember, but this was around the time a bunch of GamerGate dudes decided Jennifer was somehow responsible for ALL of BioWare's faults. Oh, the power she wielded! She, a writer, could even command the combat Bio made! The result was a LOT of ugly harassment. 😞 Is this why she left? You'd have to ask her, but it undoubtedly didn't help. The important thing is, she left - and there was nobody as senior nor as superhumanly fast as her to take over any unfinished work. This is where Patrick Weekes comes in: a solid, senior writer who could fill her shoes."

"It was great timing - not only did Cassandra need a writer, I'd slowly fallen more and more behind. It was clear by that point that I'd never be able to write Dorian AND Cole AND Solas as planned. They needed to pick up two. And I let them choose the ones who interested them, like all my writers. Patrick taking Solas was no surprise, and while I had Big Plans for Solas in the future I knew at least he'd be in good hands. I was reeeeaaaally hoping Patrick would then pick Cassandra... but they wanted Cole. My baby. Who I created in Asunder. I grumped, but Patrick clearly loved the character. They had ideas for Cole which... yeah yeah, sounded cool. Fiiine. 😅 Now I had to figure out what *I* was going to do with Cassandra. We couldn't move the romance to someone else, all the other female characters were well underway, and I didn't know the character well enough to fix her with tweaks. That meant a re-write. I didn't WANT to erase all that good work, but I needed to start from scratch. Yet how? A pious, self-righteous character was already a risk in terms of romantic appeal. There are only a small number of traits sorta considered universally unappealing but they're on that list. In this instance, Cassandra already being a known character helped. I came across a webcomic (by aimo, I think? AHH I wish I could find it now) that made a joke about Cassandra reading Varric's books. Off-hand, no basis for it, but funny. 😆 And I thought: YES. THAT'S IT. THAT'S WHAT I'M MISSING."

"I sat down and wrote the "fangirl" scene, just to test it out. Everyone loved it, and it served to change my image of who Cassandra was - a view of the inside, at the idealistic and awkward passion she felt, for so many things... AND the Maker. "Yes," I thought. "I could fall in love with this." Who knew Cassandra could be funny? Not anyone, coming out of DA2, yet here we were. It worked so well and her voice came so easily. Miranda Raison was game ofc, and amazing. Though Caroline did gripe that, if we ever met more Nevarrans THAT accent meant we'd have the Tali Problem all over again. 😅 Cassandra's romance is burned into my brain as the time when we THE most awkward conversation with the animators ever. See, that moment during the sex scene on the picnic blanket when she leans back and... there were suddenly these strategically-placed candles, juuuust covering the Sordid Bits. Thing is, they were so obviously placed just to do that. Plus, we'd already decided to do full nudity in DAI, hadn't we? WHY WERE THEY EVEN THERE? Turns out, the nudity thing was still pretty new to the team. They'd forgotten and put the candles there almost as a reflex. So prudish. So Canadian. 😂 I do find it kind of funny that, these days, what I mostly hear about Cassandra is from female fans upset at me because she wasn't a lesbian option. I mean, right? Who wouldn't want that? Technically not my decision, but I guess I WAS behind the companions having set preferences so... fair enough?"

"Some of them do take it to an entitled place, though, like Cassandra *should* have been a lesbian. Why? Because she looks like one, apparently, and that that's a bit of stereotyping which feels... odd? But it's not as if lesbian players are spoiled for choice left and right, so again: fair enough. It did lead to the best end credits VO perhaps ever, and overall I'm pretty happy with how Cassandra panned out. Things never end up like you expect, right? But such is game dev lyfe. 🥸🖖 Did you know Cassandra was THE most-romanced DAI character, by a good margin? Least, by a good margin? Dorian."

[source thread]

User: "Did you have any hand in her writing for Dawn of the Seeker?" David Gaider: "No, none. Nobody at BioWare had any hand in Dawn of the Seeker, outside of maybe Mike approving the script or direction? Only he could say for sure." [source]

User: "Was Miranda a specific casting choice by anyone on the team (similar to your picks for Merrill/Fenris/Solas), or was she simply a lucky find? I loved Miranda on the BBC series "Spooks", so I was very pleasantly surprised to learn she voiced one of my favourite DA characters" David Gaider: "I don’t remember how Miranda was cast. Auditioned, I expect, and she had a good “steely warrior voice” which is surprisingly uncommon among actresses. The accent she made up was all her, as well." [source]

User: "What's the Tali Problem?" David Gaider: "When Tali was the only Quarian, the actress doing a made-up accent was fine. Once there were others… do we get them all to mimic her? That’s a tall order!" [source]

User: "I'd say Solas is the most popular nowaday, but you need to be such a specific race/gender combo + most straight guys wouldn't go for him, i get hes not on top of the list, but I'd have expected Josephine over Cass." David Gaider: "You can’t go by how fans online talk about playing the game. There is almost zero correlation between the playstyles of the vocal hardcore and the masses." [source]

User: "I was a Dorianmancer. The cut content in Trespasser DLC was sad to read, it definitely felt short/abrupt for Dorianmancers. Anyway to share what was cut at all?" David Gaider: "I don’t know what was cut out of the conversation, as I never played it. I just heard about it after the fact." [source]

User: "Those end credits are truly incredible. Do you remember who wrote them? I'm guessing a combination of Mary Kirby & you?" David Gaider: "I wrote them, but I recall the entire team kind of took part in brainstorming the pieces of it." [source]

User: "I’m very curious- Do you know what direction you would have taken Cole and his story if you’d kept him?" David Gaider: "It's hypothetical at this point, but I suspect I would have been less willing to lose the serial killer aspect... or, at least, would have made that transition occur as part of his arc in DAI. Yet that's easy to say from this side of the divide. Who knows, really?" [source]

User: "With Cassandra you created one of the best characters in DA history." David Gaider: "Personally, my favorite response of hers is where she gets mocked for loving romance and she comes back with a retort about how it's a strength - how loving something and striving for the ideal takes courage. To me, that's central to her core." [source]

User: "inquiry: did you not write any of the Awakening characters?" David Gaider: "I wrote Anders, Justice, and Nathaniel in Awakening - but it was such a hurried project, my memories of it are pretty much a blur. "Yes, I worked on that" is almost all I can say about it, I'm afraid." [source]

[mydarlingclaudia]

every word I meant to say

note : ermmmm hi. don't ask where I went for like almost a month work is eating me alive and I was sad. this was inspired by that the unsent project thing andddd idk if I really like this it's def ooc but I was thinking about it again today and this has been in my drafts since September so I figured why not

wc : 2.1k

tags : @luvrgreyy @clitorphosis @sonya-semyonova

desc : letters that went unsent. kind of unrequited love, angst (???), more Leon focused, re2r!Leon - DI!Leon, fem!reader, ooc, not proofread

"I meant to write sooner, I really did. I know it's been a year, my life is so different now, I don't think you'd even believe me if I tried to explain it. I hope you're doing better than I am, I'm happy you weren't able to move to the city with me."

Leon hasn't written a letter since, what, his first few years in the academy? Maybe the end of his senior year of high school? He can't really remember, but he knows that this letter is important because it's to you, his friend he hasn't seen since the night he left for Raccoon City. This isn't even an actual letter, he's scribbling out what he thinks might be good excuses as to why he hasn't talked to you in a year on the back of pieces of scrap paper he took from the office.

He's supposed to be asleep right now, same as everyone else in boot camp, but it's been a year since Raccoon City and he's wondering if you ever tried to reach him. Maybe you tried to go to Raccoon City to look for him, only to see the pile of rubble that stood in its place, sectioned off by the government. Maybe you thought he was dead, he wouldn't blame you.

You and Leon had stuck together all throughout high school, even managed to stay friends when he went off to the police academy and you moved a few hours away for college. He doesn't even know if your address is still the same, he really hopes it is, there's no phone-books in boot camp if he wanted to try and call you, you're supposed to have your loved ones numbers memorized.

The last time Leon saw you was the night before he was supposed to move to the city, before he got a letter in the mail the next morning telling him not to come in, he really wishes he had listened. You were so happy for him, starting out as a city cop was a big deal and he had worked so hard to get there, you and a few friends had thrown him a going-away-party, telling him not to forget you once he got to the city. Leon couldn't forget you if he tried.

You had talked about moving to the city with him for a short period of time, it was really just ramblings the two of you kept bringing up. "Oh, when we live in the city..." "I can come visit you at work..." "I'll handle dinner, you'll handle cleaning..." Nothing ever really came of those ideas, but it gave him a warm feeling in his stomach knowing you wanted to come to the city with him.

He hopes you’ve been well, that life has been kinder to you than it has to him. Leon hopes you got that job you were gushing about the last time he saw you, he hopes you still think of him on his birthday because he thinks of you often.

He shouldn’t have gone to Raccoon City, he should’ve stayed home the day he left and instead stopped by your house to bother you about going to see a movie. Or he should have taken you to lunch, anything would’ve been better than walking into a city that was beyond saving.

"I’m not really sure what I’m saying, but I know I miss you. How have you been? I hope I’m able to come and visit soon, everything’s been moving so fast, but I’ll figure something out. Maybe we can get dinner, or something. Whatever you want, I’ll pay for it, don’t worry."

Leon's hands shake a tiny bit when he thinks of you, it's that school boy nervousness that movies portray whenever there's a boy with a crush on a girl who he knows is probably too out of his league. You were friends, at least.

"You're done with school now, right?" He knows you are. "I wish I was there for the graduation ceremony, I know your parents are proud. Do you remember my graduation party? Someone spiked the punch and we both ended up passed out in the bathtub at your house, you looked really pretty that night. I hope your graduation was better than mine. This would probably have been better as a phone call, but I don't know, you said letters were always more thoughtful.

– Leon"

–

That letter never got sent. Every letter needs an envelope, Leon just never got around to finding one, but he kept that scrap piece of paper tucked inside his pillowcase on the odd chance that he got his hands on one. He had stricter rules to follow than the other recruits, being legally dead and all.

But even after he got out of boot camp, he kept the letter. It's hidden away in some drawer in his house, he's not sure where, though.

He didn't make it into the army, he's not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing, but being in the position he was in now wasn't much better. He's stronger now, hardened, more mature.

Leon's written a few more letters to you over the years, ones that still never got sent because he either deemed them unworthy or because he became unsure of himself halfway through writing it. But he hasn't thrown any of them away, he'll send them one day, he swears it.

Leon's not using you as a way of journaling, either, even though he should find some way to actually write down his thoughts to get them out of his head. What he writes to you is mostly memories, telling you that his life keeps changing and that he misses you. He knows you're different by now, too. You're both grown, no longer in high school, no longer in college or the academy. If he could turn back time, go anywhere other than Raccoon City, he would. He thinks that's selfish of him, him not being there would've left Claire and Sherry in that city, but how would he have even known?

"Me again, hope you're doing better than I am." Leon's way with words gets worse and worse by the week, not that he cares. "I met someone who kind of reminded me of you, she's a sweetheart, like you. You'd probably become fast friends if you were ever able to meet."

Leon's not allowed to tell you about his mission in Spain, or about the president's daughter. President Graham is putting more body-guards in place for his daughter once she steps foot in D.C. again, Leon's sure the president considered appointing Leon as one of them at some point since breaking the news that she was going to be coming back home safely.

Leon should stop thinking about you so much, it's not like you were his only friend in the world, you've probably forgotten him, anyway.

"My life is still different, but yours probably is, too. This probably sounds stupid, but I miss being in high school. You probably don't, your mom was up your ass all the time and you worked yourself to the bone. Has that changed at all?

I remember that one year I went to Thanksgiving at your house, your uncles were all drunk and your cousins kept trying to get me to come sit with them, your grandpa was trying to get me interested in football. I haven't had a holiday like that since then, your family was always really nice to me."

He's not sure what to say anymore, these letters always just end up dragging out, but Leon has a lot of memories and he hopes you think of them as often as he does.

"I'm sorry I haven't visited. It's harder for me to get time off of work these days, even though I could really fucking use it. I promise one day I'll come back, it's just not going to be for a little while. Just don't do anything dumb.

– Leon"

–

Those letters he's been writing you have piled up in the drawer of his nightstand.

He's definitely sure that your address has changed by now, you're probably not even in the same state anymore. He could always try to find you on Facebook, explain everything that's been building up over the years in a simple text, but there's still rules he's supposed to follow even in his personal life.

Leon didn't stop writing, though. The letters did eventually get shorter, he's not sure if you like the same things anymore or if you'd even be interested.

He writes now mostly about how different his life would be if he was with you, if he had just asked you out in high school or kissed you the night he was supposed to leave for Raccoon City. It almost feels real to him when he goes to sleep, but that might just be the alcohol numbing his brain, not the dream of you sleeping next to him or the feeling of your breath on the back of his neck, not even the little pitter-patter off tiny footsteps coming from down the hallway.

It does make him feel a bit pathetic, dreaming of a life with someone he hadn't talked to in years. Leon can't help but think of you, he always thought you were pretty, and the past always lives in the back of his mind, but it comes alive late at night.

You're an entirely different person by now, someone who he hasn't had the opportunity to meet yet. You're probably married, maybe you even have a few kids running around, Leon's jealous of that. That could've been him, but it's not. But he's not even sure if you'd recognize each other if you passed by on the street, so is it even worth it to dwell on all the maybe's?

"I'm not sure I'll get to visit you for a while, not without a lucky fucking twist of fate, anyway."

All these letters are starting to sound the same, but Leon clings onto the thought of someday sending them to whatever corner of the country you were hiding in and hoping that there's still room in your life for a stranger.

"Do you still want me over for dinner? You don't know what I'd give to just eat a shitty meal with you right now."

You don't know what he'd give to do anything with you, really. He knows that there's a lifetime worth of things he's missed out on and that maybe every once in a while you think about him in the same way he thinks about you.

"I don't know how to ask this, but are you married? I know you'd look stunning in a wedding dress." You probably are, you're a catch, who wouldn't want to put a ring on your finger? Your husband's probably a better man than he is, too. One who hasn't had years worth of trauma jammed into his brain with the proof of it marked across his body, your husband probably takes you out on a date every week, maybe even surprises you with breakfast in bed and kisses the nape of your neck to gross out your kids. "I really hope you're happy, in my head you are.

I wanted that to be us, I never told you, but I was a chicken-shit kid and didn't know how to say it. You show up in my dreams sometimes, you deserve nothing but the best. I meant to get back in touch with you forever ago, but I think it's probably too late.

– Leon"

–

Two years after his last letter and Leon's still thinking of you, seventeen years after Raccoon City and the image of you sitting across from him for the last time still loops in his mind. He doesn't really remember your voice but he knows that you thought handwritten letters were romantic, and he still reads over the ones he meant to send to you but kept avoiding.

He's done with the letters, hasn't written one in a long time. But he just got back from California and your old favorite song is playing on the radio, and he's remembering how in love he is with your memory.

"I don't know what I'm doing. I'm too old for this and I'm sure you'd tease me if we had somehow kept in touch. I don't blame you if you thought I died in Raccoon City, I hope you're still alive and that life is good to you.

You were always important to me, I think you've given me something to cling to over the years. This letter won't find you and I'm not even really sure if I want it to, but I hope you'd still call me if you were able to. You wouldn't believe the things I've seen, but I'm happy you never got to see them.

Love, Leon

p.s. I'd say I love you but it feels like something you'd say in person"

[spoilmesweetieforficssake]

Hi I really love your writing! Not sure if you are taking any prompts, no worries if not!

I was wondering if you could something with Melissa x reader similar to Janine and Gregory where they both work at the school and maybe the reader is dating someone but they have a moment like the club scene or PECSA weekend.

Hope you're having a good day lovely human!

Not dead! Nor have I given up on writing or filling the prompts I still have to fill! But a weird thing did happen - I went to a hypnotist show with friends thinking I wouldn't be affected... Long story short, I remember the first fifteen minutes of the show. Apparently, I was in the show for the rest of it. So that was a thing. But that's not the weird thing. The hypnotist said that a side effect of his hypnosis is often a better ability to focus, a quieter mind and less anxious thoughts. I have to hand it to the man, his words seem to be true. An unexpected side effect of this for me though is that it turns out the noise and chatter in my mind actually helps me write my fics. Now it's all a bit quiet in there and it's been hard to get the words out. But, that doesn't mean I don't still love writing - so we're pushing through.

I do have a confession though - this story has two prompts noted at the top of it in my drafts and although I can't find any evidence that I've posted it under either prompt, if I have already posted this and somehow have missed it, please let me know and I shall take the duplicate down.

Anyway, enough about me. Enough rambling. I hope you enjoy!

*~*

It would be easier if she wasn’t nice to you. 

If she wasn’t nice to you, she could just be the untouchable, hot as hell, fiery goddess you admired from afar. 

But no.  She let you sit with her and Barb at lunch.  She even brought you lunch after a few conversations had strayed into discussing cooking and favourite recipes during said lunch breaks.

How were you meant to get over your ridiculous crush when she actually gave you the time of day?  When she smiled like that?  When her whole face lit up and she gestured so animatedly when she got caught up talking about something?

And as if that wasn’t enough, how were you ever meant to recover after seeing her so soft with her students?  Going out of her way to open up to them and help them. 

It was ridiculous, though.  You knew that.  What good was ever going to come of it? 

Kid.  That’s what she calls you.  It’s a constant reminder of the age gap between you.  Of the chasm that you feel you can’t even begin to cross when she sees you as some eager little kid.

You’ve always had a thing for older women.  From those early, confused days of watching your on-screen idols, to realising you didn’t want to be them.  You didn’t want to be friends with them.  You just wanted them. 

You want one in particular, but as you look across at her, her red hair ablaze in the sunshine, you force those feelings down once more.  If friendship is what she’s offering you’re not about to beat her with that olive branch.  You’ll deem yourself lucky and move on.

Even if she has ruined you for anyone else. 

*~*

“You know,” drawled Barbara.  “It’s beginning to become a habit.”

“What is?” asked Melissa, turning to face her friend with a frown. 

“Staring at her,” said the older woman, eyebrow raised. 

The red head scoffs.  “As if.  I don’t know what you think you’re seeing but that ain’t it.”

*

It was all said in jest to begin with.  Gentle teasing about a few wayward glances.  That was until Barb started to see her best friend be genuinely nice to you. 

To begin with, she tolerated you.  You weren’t one of the eager little puppies she so often saw when it came to younger new hires.  That much was evident from the start.  You were an old soul.  You carried a different energy. 

One that Melissa apparently appreciated just as much as the view.  Barb stood beside her the red head as they watched over the kids leaving school, keeping an eye on the them as they left for the day, making their way to busses, rides or parents.  Or rather, Barb was keeping watch over the children.  A quick glance at Melissa confirmed that her attention was directed at you where you stood a little way off, chatting happily with a young girl about the book she was waving at you as she waited for her mother to collect her. 

“Girl…”

“Don’t,” sighed Melissa, crossing her arms across her chest. 

That took Barb by surprise.  She had expected the red head to deny it.  “You mean?”

“It’s stupid.  She’s some pretty young thing and I’m…older than I care to admit.”

Turning to look at her friend, her expression sad, the older woman reached out and placed a comforting hand on the other woman’s arm.  “And?  What’s it called?  A Spring, Winter romance?”

“May, December,” corrected Melissa automatically.  “But same thing.”

“Exactly” said Barb.  “There’s a name for it and everything.  It’s a thing.”

“It’s not a thing,” huffed the red head, turning on her heel and heading back into the building.  “It’s stupid and I’ll get over it, just like I do everything else in my life.”

*~*

You’re not sure you’re entirely on board for PECSA. 

Out of school, things are different.  Lines are blurred and you’re seeing a whole different side to your colleagues.  You’re not sure if it’s liberating or terrifying.  And that’s before you add in the factor of the other teachers who have also been set free from the constraints of the classroom and are now loose in the wild.

You’re sure your confusion must show on your face, particularly when at the end of one of the breakout sessions you find yourself caught up in conversation with a striking older woman who teaches at another school across town.

You don’t see Melissa at first, who watches the interaction with interest.  She’s not used to seeing you outside of school, and it takes her back to realise that the woman is flirting with you.  Openly and blatantly flirting with you.  She’s touching your arm, leaning into you.  Smiling and laughing. 

In return, you know you’re blushing something terrible, especially when the woman hands you a page from her notebook with her number scrawled across it.  Watching the woman walk away, throwing you a smile over her shoulder to you, you finally see the red head standing in the doorway where she said she’d meet you so you could head for lunch together.

“She not a bit old for you?” she asks as you approach, your blush still heating your cheeks.

You frown.  “If she looks like that and thinks I’m hot enough to give me her number, they’re the numbers I’m interested in,” you reply, heading in the direction of the lunch buffet. 

Barb overhears the comment, unable not to smirk at your flash of sass.  “Jealous?” she asks, leaning into the red head’s space. 

“Of what?” barks Melissa, crossing her arms across her chest as she watches you go.  “Oh leave off!” she snarks at the older woman’s raised eyebrow.

*

How the day has gone from serious talks and breakout sessions to cocktails by the pool you’re still trying to wrap your head around.  Adjusting your cover up, you head around the side of the pool, heading for the bar.  You hope the day starts to feel a little bit more normal with a drink in your hand. 

Gazing out over the water, you catch sight of Melissa.  Or rather, you catch sight of a lot more of Melissa than you’ve ever had the privilege of seeing before.  Not looking where you’re walking as your eyes drink in the magnificent view there’s no saving yourself as you step forward and your foot finds water instead of concrete.

“Is that?” Melissa asks incredulously at the dramatic splash that comes from the other side of the pool.  She’s up out of her lounger before Barb can comment and the older teacher can only watch on in amusement as the red head storms off in your direction. 

You pull yourself out of the pool, allowing yourself to perch on the edge as you try your best to ignore the chuckles of those around you who have noticed your mishap. 

“What the fuck happened?”

You look up and of course Melissa is there.  Right there, lit up in the sun like an angel, red hair haloed around her head.  It takes a moment to realise that her eyes are roving over you, and not just your face.  You glance down where your cover up now clings to your skin, almost see through. 

Looking up you see Melissa blink rapidly a few times before offering you a hand.  You reach for her, smiling as she helps pull you to your feet.  “Thanks,” you smile sheepishly.  “I guess I should go change.”

“It’s a pool, you’re allowed to be a little wet,” the red head smirks back at you.  “Besides, we’re this close to the bar now, be rude not to take advantage.”

*

Melissa appears at the bar next to you with a huff, grumbling under her breath.  Her attention is focused on trying to get the attention of the barman.  Mumbling though she is, she’s speaking just loud enough for you to make out what she was saying. 

“He was an ass,” you tell her, watching as her head whipped around, finally realising you were there. 

“What?” she asks with a frown, already tipsy. 

“Your ex,” you enlighten her.  You may not have heard the comment that led to her current dip in mood, or ever have met the man, but you know enough.

Her frown only deepens.  “You don’t know a thing about him.”

“I know he didn’t appreciate what he had and left you,” you offer, ordering a drink when the barman appears in front of you, before turning back to Melissa to ask what she wants.  You find her looking at you oddly, her expression unreadable.  She quickly snaps out of it and barks and order at the bartender.

*

Barb has had more than a few drinks, it would appear as she flags you down to sit with her as you pass her table. 

“Sit, sit,” she smiles, trying to reach for your arm and push the chair out next to her at the same time in an uncoordinated matter. 

Catching her hands, you still her as you slide into the seat beside her to placate her.  Her gaze is a little unfocused, her words edging towards slurred.  You hadn’t quite realised how drunk she was, but then again, looking around the room, it would have been more of a surprise for her to be sober. 

“Don’t call that woman,” she tells you, leaning into your space.

“What woman?” you frown.

“That woman who gave you her number,” says Barbara like it’s obvious. 

You try not to think about the fact that for Barb to know, Melissa must have mentioned it.  That it’s been on her mind enough to mention it to the older woman.  “Why not?”

“She wouldn’t like it.”

“She gave me her number,” you point out.  “I don’t think she would mind.”

Barb shakes her head.  “Not her.  Her,” she says, nodding across the room to where Melissa is standing. 

You cross your arms across your chest.  “What has Melissa got to do with anything?”

Barb raises a single eyebrow, the action still smooth and effective despite her drunkenness and it makes you blush. 

Averting your gaze, you shake your head.  “It doesn’t matter what I feel,” you sigh.  “She’s not…She thinks I’m some stupid kid.”

What you don’t see, is Melissa standing close enough behind your chair to catch your words.

*

Somewhere after speaking to Barb you decide that trying to be the sober parent of your little Abbott family just isn’t working.  You’ve lost track of most of them, and honestly, you’ve given up trying to find them.  They’re all adults and can fend for themselves.

You still have eyes on Barb and Melissa though, the former dancing up a storm and the latter apparently winning an ill-advised drinking competition. 

Not that you can judge, of course.  You know you’ve drunk more than you should, feeling pleasantly buzzed from your seat in the corner of the bar.  You should call it a night before you do something you’ll regret, like call the woman Barbara told you not to.  Sober, you wouldn’t.  Drunk, you’re flattered enough and wouldn’t say no to the company. 

With a sigh, you push yourself up out of your seat and head towards the elevators.  Pushing the button, you watch the numbers light up as the lift descends.  You squeak in surprise when a strong pair of hands land on your hips, turning you around as a plump pair of lips meet you own.

“I don’t think you’re some stupid kid.”

You blink slowly a few times, taking in the woman before you.  Melissa.  Melissa Schemmenti just kissed you.  You shouldn’t, but you don’t have it in you to deny yourself the pleasure of feeling her lips against yours once more.  You kiss her back with enthusiasm, not protesting when she backs you into the elevator as it opens and moaning as your back hits the wall of the small metallic box, the weight of Melissa pressed against you. 

You’ve always admired her curves.  Pressed against you they’re a dream. 

The clearing of a throat far to close snaps you out of your living dream and you feel Melissa take a step back, biting her lip as she guiltily throws a glance over her shoulder, registering Barb standing in the elevator, her back to you both as if she hasn’t just witnessed exactly what you were both doing. 

Standing close, you grin at the devious smirk being aimed your way by a certain red head.  There’s a dangerous glimmer of mischief in her eyes.  Smudged lipstick and mussed hair from where you hands couldn’t help but run thought it complete the look.  The woman is a work of art. 

You look up as the elevator doors chime open, realising this is your floor.  Stepping forward, you slip past Barb, who merely raises an eyebrow.  You throw a look back at Melissa, who sways forward as though to follow you, before hesitating. 

The doors slide shut, and honestly, it’s probably for the best.

You miss the dark chuckle Barb lets out as the lift begins to ascend once more.

“What you laughing at?” asks Melissa, scowling.  She’s annoyed with herself for hesitating.  She knows what she wants, and she just let it walk out of the elevator.

“You two think you’re subtle?” the older woman drawls.  “She has more of your lipstick on than you do.”

*

If PECSA was party central the night before, it was hangover central the morning after.  You’re sitting outside on the low wall, sunglasses firmly in place, your phone in one hand and a bottle of water in the other as you take in the cool morning air. 

“You regret what happened last night?”

You turn to see Melissa, similarly attired.  “What?”

She comes to stand beside the wall on which you’re sat, her gaze wandering anywhere but you as she speaks.  “I came to your room last night.  You didn’t answer.”

“I didn’t hear you,” you admit, watching as her head whips around.  “Too busy throwing up everything I ever drank.”  You feel the blush dusting your cheeks, but continue.  This feels too important to let a little embarrassment stop you.  You take off your sunglasses so she can see your face as you speak,  “I have many regrets about my choices last night, but what happened in the elevator isn’t one of them.”

A slow smile spreads across her lips as she shifts to take a seat next to you.  She slips her own sunglasses off, finally letting you see her eyes.  “Good to know,” she murmurs.  “Me neither.”

You can’t help but smile at that.  You notice her gaze wandering and realise she staring at the phone still clutched in your hand. 

“You planning on using that number you were so interested in yesterday?”

“Honestly?” you ask, seeing the uncertainty in her face as she nods regardless.  “That woman was hot, and while I was more than a little flattered she gave me her number…she isn’t a patch on you.”

Pale cheeks blush adorably pink at your words.  Melissa isn’t used to hearing things like what from you.

“Don’t look so surprised,” you scoff, nudging her shoulder.  “You’ve seen yourself in a mirror, right?  And you needn’t think I go falling in pools over every pretty woman I see.”

“I really distracted you that badly, huh?” she asks, a little of her confidence returning.

You bump her shoulder with yours once more.  “Shut up.”

A gentle hand moves to cup your cheek, turning you to face her as Melissa presses a gentle kiss to your lips.  “For the record,” she says quietly.  “I don’t think you’re some stupid little kid.  I think you’re beautiful.”

You take in a shuddering breath.  It all feels too good to be true.  “What happens at PECSA stays at PECSA?” you ask sadly.

“I’ve never been one for playing by the rules,” she smirks back at you, pressing another quick kiss to your lips before pushing herself to her feet and offering a hand to you.  “Come on, we gotta go find Barb.  Reunite her with her shoes, sobriety and sanity.”

You take the hand being offered like a lifeline, grinning as Melissa starts walking, swinging your joined hands between you.  It’s only as you pass through the front doors to the building that her words even register.  “Wait?  Her shoes?”

[rhiannonsknife]

the teaser made me miss shauna so much, could you please write more hcs for her? maybe a part 2 of dating shauna in the wilderness or anything really!!

— summary: dating shauna shipman in the wilderness hcs (part 1).

— warnings: implied canon typical violence/dark themes. gn!reader. established relationship. angst. hurt/comfort. another post that’s been in my drafts ever since the yj teaser dropped.

shauna who only ever allows herself to be vulnerable with you.

as i’ve already said in this fic, shauna definitely starts isolating herself as much as possible after losing jackie and later the baby. dating her means navigating all layers of bitterness and grief she wraps herself in to survive. only with you, she allows a little bit of vulnerability to show. it’s rare, even when you’re around, but there are moments when her voice cracks as she whispers, “i don’t want to be alone anymore”

shauna who isn’t someone to openly seek your comfort…

…but when you sit beside her in the dim light of the cabin, your shoulder brushing hers, she doesn’t pull away. instead, she leans in, just barely but it’s there. it becomes a habit; silent moments of proximity where she doesn’t need to say anything, but your presence is the only thing keeping her grounded. she’s too afraid to ask for it, to verbalize her needs for closeness and affection, so you learn to read her. to understand what gives shauna away when she’s overwhelmed, scared, or simply in need of a good hug.

shauna, who couldn’t sleep through the night if it wasn’t for you.

the nightmares start after jackie’s death (and only get worse after she loses the baby, too): visions of jackie’s frozen face, her skin tinged blue, or hearing her voice in the stillness. sometimes she dreams of holding the baby, warm and whole, only to wake to the emptiness of the cabin. on those nights, you often find her pacing or sitting at the cabin window, her breath fogging the glass. “shauna,” you’ll whisper softly whenever you find her there, careful not to startle her. “come back to bed” shauna shakes her head, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. “i can’t sleep. every time i close my eyes…” her voice breaks, and she presses a fist to her mouth, as if she could hold it all in. you move closer, gently brushing your fingers over her shoulder. “you don’t have to do this alone. let me help”

shauna, who’s angry more often than not.

dating her in the wilderness means keeping up with her anger. it’s not always fair: she’ll lash out about something small, snapping at you for being “too loud” or for trying to comfort her when she isn’t ready and sometimes you have to bite back your own frustration. “why are you always in my space?” she snaps one evening when you reach for her hand. the others glance over, but no one says anything. you pull back, swallowing the hurt. “i just wanted to help”. shauna only mutters: “i don’t need your help,” before turning away. but later, after the fire dies down and most of the others have drifted off, her apology comes quietly: not in words, but in the way she slides a plate of food across the table toward you without meeting your eyes. “you haven’t eaten,” she says simply, her voice softer now. you take the plate, and though you’re still a little raw, you thank her. shauna doesn’t respond, but when you sit down beside her, she lets your knee brush against hers. you know she’s trying, even if she doesn’t always have the words.

shauna who is so insanely touch starved :(

i refuse to shut up about how touch starved shauna must be!!! she craves physical touch but is reluctant to initiate it, her body stiff and guarded even when you’re close. it’s always you who has to reach out. at first, shauna tenses, like she doesn’t know what to do with the softness, but she never pulls away. one night, after a fight with one of your teammates that leaves her trembling, you find her sitting on the edge of your shared sleeping space, her head in her hands. wordlessly, you kneel in front of her, placing your hands lightly on her knees. “shauna,” you whisper, waiting for her to look at you. “i don’t know how to do this,” she admits. “you don’t have to know,” you say, your hands sliding up to hold hers. “just let me be here for you!” for a long moment, she doesn’t move. then, all at once, she leans into you, her arms wrapping around your waist. her grip on you is almost desperate, her fingers clutching at your back like she’s afraid you’ll vanish if she lets go or holds on too loosely.“don’t go,” shauna murmurs

shauna, whose grief is something that is always present.

it is palpable, even though the others won’t acknowledge it the way you do. they’re scared to upset shauna further, you can tell as much, and make use of being her little soft spot: you’ve found her sobbing quietly behind the cabin before, clutching jackie’s old shirt or staring into the distance where the burial site is. the first time, you weren’t sure what to do, afraid your presence might make it worse. “shauna,” you had murmured, taking a hesitant step forward. she didn’t look at you, didn’t say a word, but she didn’t tell you to leave, either. now, when you find her there, you sit beside her quietly. she doesn’t always acknowledge you, her gaze distant, but you know your presence means something. those moments are hard for both of you, but being there for her (even when she doesn’t necessarily show it) means everything to shauna.

shauna, who will come out of her shell to defend you.

if anyone threatens you or even questions your place in the group, she’ll speak up, her voice sharp, her eyes narrowing dangerously. despite her own struggles, her care for you shows in her loyalty and the way she’ll stand up for you when she needs to. “leave her alone,” she’ll snap from the corner of the room, where she’s usually just a spectator to what’s going on. yet her tone leaves no room for anyone to question her. after what she’s done to lottie, no one would talk back to shauna. they don’t dare to.

shauna who loves loves loves (!!!) kissing you.

more specifically when you kiss her. for all her reluctance towards physical touch, her obsession with your lips against her skin will show the moment you two have a little bit of time to yourselves. the first time shauna kisses you, it’s almost accidental: a spontaneous press of her lips to yours as she thanks you for something small, like fixing her torn gloves. but, after that, she begins seeking those moments more often, kissing you softly when the others aren’t looking, her touch lingering. also: kissing shauna’s hands!!! speaking of fixing her gloves: whenever you pull them back into place, you place a kiss to each of her finger tips. when she’s cupping your face, you’ll turn your head to press your lips to her palms, when she’s holding your hand, you’ll kiss the back of hers softly. every chance you can get to kiss her hands, you will take!!! you don’t care about the things those hands have done and for her it’s a reminder that she might still be deserving of someone’s love and care after all.

shauna, who insists that she doesn’t need anyone at all.

yet when you’re gone for even a little while; off gathering firewood, checking the traps, or helping someone else, her resolve starts to crack. obviously, shauna tries to hide it, but her eyes flick toward the door every few minutes, searching for you. “you were gone a while,” she says one night when you return. “everything okay?” you ask, sitting down beside her. “yeah. fine” she doesn’t meet your eyes, staring at the fire instead. you let the silence settle for a moment before brushing your hand against hers. when your fingers intertwine, you finally feel her relax, the tension in her shoulders melting just slightly. “you know i’ll always come back,” you murmur, squeezing her hand. she glances at you then, her lips twitching into the faintest smile. “i know,” she says quietly.

shauna, who smiles so rarely that it makes your heart jump when she actually does.

after all this time, you still find ways to make her laugh. or smile, at least. whether it’s a joke about misty’s endless chatter (that normally drives her up the walls) or an comment about nat’s defiance, you occasionally managed to coax a smile out of shauna. a real one. you’ll lean in, lowering your voice just enough for only shauna to hear, and the corner of her mouth twitches before she lets out a reluctant chuckle. “you’re so annoying” she mutters, though the amusement in her voice gives her away. shauna lowkey hates how much she loves it, the way you make her feel like herself again, even if it’s just for a second. there’s no point in faking smiles out here, no one to impress, and yet you still manage to pull them out of her.

shauna, who eventually starts sharing moments of the past with you.

you two find comfort in playing make believe: reminiscing about life before the crash and how everything was supposed to be after nationals. you would’ve won, obviously. you would’ve been champions, then, made everyone proud. eventually, the conversation shifts, as it always does, to what was lost. shauna talks about her parents, about her mom, mostly. she talks about her love for writing, how she used to dream of going to brown, studying there, and maybe becoming an author someday. “i wonder if i’d have been any good at it,” she says, her voice quieter now, her gaze distant.“you would’ve been amazing,” you tell her without hesitation. “you still can be!” shauna looks at you, and for a moment, it’s like you’re seeing the girl she used to be. the girl she still is, buried underneath all the grief and anger. talking to her always feels like that. “what about you?” she asks. you shrug, leaning closer to her. “i think…i just wanted to see what was next, you know? back then, it all seemed so clear. now…” you trail off, gesturing vaguely toward your surroundings. shauna nods, “yeah,” she murmurs, her hand brushing against yours.

the least you can do now is to pretend. and so you do: piecing together the lives you were supposed to have, the futures, and for a little while, it’s enough.

[0cta9on]

One Year of 0cta9on

Hello everyone! :]

Today marks exactly a year since I debuted as a writer! In an ideal world, I would’ve had some crazy story planned for today, but my current circumstances didn’t allow for that, so enjoy this semi-sappy yap session instead :>

I started writing during a particularly low point in my life where my mental health was in the gutters and I had an insane amount of free time. I’ve always liked imagining stories in my head, so the next obvious step was to start writing those stories down. Hence, 0cta9on was born :]

Channeling my energy into something creative provided me with a distraction from all the things that weighed on my mind and become a source of joy for me. While I know I’m not the best or most well-known writer in this community, seeing even a single comment on my work fills me with such an unexplainable amount of joy. To know that there’s people out there that enjoy the silly little stories I put out is genuinely insane in the best way possible <3

Since I’m mainly a fluff writer, I wasn’t sure what other writers in this community would think of me. But my worries were almost immediately quelled when I first joined the writer discord and became friends with a bunch of amazingly talented writers. Shout out to @msafterhours, @writerpeach, @octoberautumnbox, @gangplanksorenji, @prael, @kooyabooya, @okaylikeschaewon, @mintwithchoco, @defmaybe, @sinswithpleasure, @midnightdancingsol, @capslocked, @svndaysaweek, @usedpidemo, and of course many, many more for being so kind and welcoming <3

Recap of my past year of writing:

Wrote 8 chapters of Unlikely Duet, my cute little slice-of-life romance series starring best girl, Minji <3 Chapter 8 is the longest piece I’ve written so far at +18k words!

First Snow was the first fluff one shot I made. Rough around the edges, but we all start somewhere.

Beach Day and Good Idea were my first attempts at writing smut and they are… alright, I guess :> Part of me wants to go back and revise them, but I barely have the time and motivation to work on new drafts ;[

Masterpiece is still probably my favorite fluff one shot I’ve written so far, and while it’s not the best written by any means, I still really like how it turned out :]

FFF2+4 and Train Ride to Heaven for me marked the start of when I started becoming more comfortable writing smut. I’m still not that great, but it’s fun and I think that’s all that counts for me :]

Stuck with You was the first commission I ever did! Writing someone else’s idea is always difficult, but I’m glad the buyer liked the final product :]

Stroke of Luck was the first time I ever wrote a threesome. I think it went okay :>

Wrote And We Danced and Sunscreen for a fun prompt challenge hosted in the writer’s discord (You can thank @mintwithchoco and @msafterhours for these <3). The latter ended up turning into a quaint little mini series :]

Lessons was my second ever commission and my first attempt at femdom. While femdom isn’t really my thing, it was a fun challenge writing about something new and I really like the little gimmick I threw in there :]

I wrote Today, like, two days ago at 1am without much revising or editing (Shoutout @defmaybe for reading through it before I released <3). Go read it if you haven’t yet pls n thenk yew :>

Wrote 15 shorts from ideas submitted by you guys! Some of my favorite stories I’ve written have been shorts and they’re always nice when I’m low on ideas :]

While I likely won’t have anything out for a while, I think it’d be fun to pull back the curtain a little bit and hint at what I’ve been working on :]

🐰🦋// She’s just your coworker. Just that. Nothing else.

🐻👖// It started out with a kiss, how did it end up like this?!

🍁✨// Upcoming New Variety Show: Fan Date! Episode 1, starring [REDACTED]

🍔🧀// Time changes, but summer stays the same

I’ve run out of things to talk about, so this concludes my one year anniversary post :> Despite my unplanned and prolonged hiatus, I want y’all to know that I do NOT plan on retiring anytime soon. I have so many stories I still want to tell, whether you like it or not >:]

Have a good day/night and I love yall <3 Have a Minji :]

[poppitron360]

Hello :)

What is in your opinion a) the best Sapphic ship and b) what are your headcanons for them?

This has been in my ask box since may, and it’s been on my mind for a while.

So sorry I took ages to answer, I was waiting to finish the series so that I’d have all the relevant info (I’d heard Thalia x Reyna is a thing and I wanted to see for myself) don’t worry I HAVEN’T FORGOTTEN ABOUT YOU-

Also, Life has gotten pretty badly in the way of things lately.

Tbh I haven’t really seen/paid attention to the sapphic ships in PJO.

Currently, drafting this before BoO, I’d say it’s probably Ruegard (Selena x Clarisse). While I very much think Beckendorf and Selena were in love, you can’t have two same-sex characters parallel Patroclus and Achilles and NOT have them be queer-coded (Unless Rick genuinely believed that Patrochillies really were just platonic besties, which is objectively false and factually incorrect and gay erasure honestly Rick).

I think Dying For Each Other IS queer culture (Valgrace for LIFEEEE).

While I swear by Aro/Ace Reyna and will die on this hill, the ships she’s paired with are cute dynamics.

- Theyna is badass. It gives similar vibes to Buffy x Faith from Buffy the Vampire Slayer (easily one of the non-canon sapphic ships of all time) I just love how when they first met Thalia kidnapped Reyna and Reyna hit her with a chair. I just see that and think “couple goals”.

- @demigod-shenanigans has forced me to think about Pipeyna and honestly yeah they would be really cute. Particularly their dynamic paired with Valgrace. I love Reyna and Jason’s friendship and I love her relationship with Leo.

- Reynabeth (is that a ship? It should be). Daughter of War Goddess x Daughter of War Goddess SUPREME!!!!

But also, we need more aro/ace rep in media. I heart my aro/ace siblings.

Pipabeth is also some of the most sapphic shit I’ve ever seen. I think it’s just RR not really knowing how female friendships work (or maybe it’s me never really having the kinda touchy-feely female friendship I see on TV all the time, and so being unable to comprehend that kind of platonic compassion, but I’m not gonna unpack that here) but you can’t tell me these aren’t two cottagecore lesbians collecting mushrooms and building a fence and shit that cottagecore lesbians do.

Also shoutout to Rachabeth and basically any sapphic Annabeth ship. She is bi in my mind.

Shelper is underdeveloped. There is so much potential in a mortal x demigod relationship that was explored a little bit with Perrachel but never fully. I need to write a fic about them at some point.

I was writing something earlier and ended up maybe starting a Nyssa x Lavinia ship (hardened grunge Lesbian x bubblegum Lesbian)

But my favourite???

EMMIE AND JO!!!

We NEVER get sapphic romances for old people. I NEED a spinoff about them. I mean, you’ve got the forbidden romance from being in the Hunters of Artemis turned marriage (Idk if they’re canonically married or not but they are in my mind) and you’ve got them being badass fighters and you’ve got them being moms to Leo and Georgina and basically everyone at the waystation. It seems like “giving up immortality for each other” is Rick’s standard for “true love” and Emmie and Jo did exactly that. I love them sm.

[lucidbee]

Swim Lessons | Percy Jackson x Reader

Summary: Every camper must know how to swim, so who better than the son of the sea God to teach you, and the possibility of learning more than just how to swim.

Authors Note: This has been in my drafts for the last two weeks and I’m still not happy with it, but it’s making me irrationally angry so I’m posting it just so I can stop having to write it.

Word count:768

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“It’s fine. Everything will be okay. He won't laugh at me,” you say to yourself, making your way to Cabin Three. “He is just the most famous demi-god ever to exist, and you haven’t spoken a single word to him before. Everything will be completely fine.” With a sigh, you knock on the cabin door. Thirty seconds pass before the door finally opens, revealing a half-dressed Percy.

“Hey, sorry, I was changing after training. What can I do for you?”

“H-Hi, I was, um... hi.”

“Hi?”

“Sorry, we’ve never met before,” you say nervously.

“Are you new to Camp Half-Blood? New campers get sent to the Hermes cabin.”

“Wait, you’re not a child of Poseidon, right? Are you my sister?” Percy asks in a rush.

“No, no, I’m not new. I’m a daughter of Apollo. Chiron sent me here to ask you something.”

“Oh, a daughter of Apollo. That makes sense—you have that golden hue to you. What did you need to ask me?”

“It’s silly, really. I can come back another day if you’re busy,” you say, turning to head back to your cabin.

“NO,” Percy says, taking your wrist into his hand. “I mean, I’m not busy. I can help you.”

“Chiron said every camper needs to know how to swim, and I don’t. He said you might be able to teach me. But it’s no trouble if you’re not able to help me.”

“No, I would love to help you. Meet me at the beach in ten.”

“Thank you, Percy.”

“You're welcome…”

“Y/n, my name is Y/n.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/n,” Percy says with a smile.

The waves were calm as you and Percy stood in the shallow end, the water reaching just past your waists. You thought you would be more nervous around a stranger, but Percy was good at keeping the mood light, always asking if you were okay.

“Okay, now that you know water safety 101, let's start with floating on your back. I know, I know, it sounds boring, but it’s important to know.”

Percy helps you onto your back, teaching you how to move your arms and legs to change directions in the water before he gets onto his own back.

“So, why have you never learned how to swim?” Percy asks.

“The water always scared me. Not knowing what’s swimming down below... Drowning is scary as well, but it’s mostly fish. Not a big fish person.”

“WHAAAT? How are fish scary? Most aren’t even deadly.”

“They have these large eyes that don’t blink. Who wants to be staring at huge, unblinking black eyes?”

“Don’t let the sea nymphs hear you say that. They might drag you down to the bottom of the sea.”

“You would let them kill me?”

“No, but maybe let them scare you a bit before saving you,” Percy says, laughing.

“Oh, my hero.”

“Yeah, your hero,” Percy says with a soft smile.

The next hour is spent teaching you how to swim. It was easy with the son of Poseidon. You had nothing to fear, knowing that he would let nothing happen to you. He was a pretty good teacher, too—you were able to catch on fast. You hadn’t been so relaxed at camp before; it felt more like a vacation than training to fight against monsters.

“I think you officially know how to swim,” Percy says, swimming to the shore.

“All thanks to you,” you say, following.

“It probably helps when your teacher can control water, huh?”

“Just a bit.”

You and Percy get out of the water, drying off, and sit on the beach. You couldn’t help but steal a few glances at him, his wet hair framing his face and dripping down his chiseled stomach.

“Enjoying the view?”

Your face turns red, being caught staring. “Sorry,” you say, looking down.

“Don’t worry, I was staring at you too.”

Your face flushes brighter, taken aback by how blunt Percy was being. It was no secret that he was considered one of the most attractive people at camp—his looks were often discussed just as much as his fighting prowess. The thought that he could find you attractive seemed almost impossible to believe. You wouldn’t exactly call yourself unattractive, but you definitely weren’t a daughter of Aphrodite.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Percy says, looking worried.

“No, you didn’t. I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“You’re beautiful, Y/n.”

“Yeah?” you say, looking at Percy.

“Yeah,” Percy says, keeping eye contact with you.

An idea pops into your head to hopefully have this moment again in the future.

“Hey, Percy?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I still need swimming lessons. I don’t think one day is enough.”

A wide smile forms across Percy’s face. “I was thinking the same thing, actually. I think you should also get over your fear of fish. I have a feeling you’ll be around more sea life from now on.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“No reason.”

“Mhm, can we start with a cute sea animal? Work my way up to the scary, beady eyes? Maybe a sea lion or a hippocampus?”

“I��m sure I can have that arranged. Same time tomorrow?”

“Yeah, that sounds great,” you say as the horn for lunch is blown.

“I guess we should start heading back,” Percy says, looking a little disappointed.

“Yeah, I guess we should. It was nice hanging out with you. See you tomorrow,” you say, turning to walk away. You make it almost a foot before—

“WAIT.”

“Yeah?” you say, confused.

“I don’t want to stop talking to you yet. I know we can’t sit at the same table, but can we talk together until our cabin is called?”

A smile spreads across your face. “Come on, fish boy,” you say, holding out your hand.

[eliotlime]

November update post thing

Drawing of me watching short-form video content without sound vs one where I am lol

If you use short-form video platforms of any kind and would like to help me with my survey you can do so here! Though I'll probably be closing it sometime next week (2nd November 2024 ish) to collate the data for submission.

I've got a metric tonne of deadlines due next week but you know what it's blog update time!!

This is also not going to be scheduled to post because I usually write these on the 29th but I forgot! So it's getting posted now!!

💀 School..

Yeap as I've said I'm in school so that's still in progress, I have completely no idea what I'm doing everyday and as it turns out no time to worry about it either I got deadlines baby!!!

I mean in theory I understand but it's all a big question mark to me, like i need to be reassured like a nervous dog that I'm doing the right thing and what not

And because of that I'm real sorry about pushing the Abacelsus zine to the back burner, I actually got quite a lot of it done before I had to lock in for school of course.

And though I said I had a lot of sketches I didn't post well they were shittier than I liked them to be so I wanted to make it look nicer. Oh well dems the breaks.

Another screenie of my school work, they didn't really go into depth about how to specifically design stuff so it's basically me frankenstien-ing stuff I've seen existing and just trying my best lol

I mean.. overall it's funnnn... i guess... I do like projects but everyone in my class are adults with established jobs or goals. Even those who are around my age seem to know what they're aiming for too, feels like I'm an unemployed little sucker fumbling in the dark. Can be humiliating I won't lie, why is learning something new so embarrassing?

Aside from that I'm seeing people be so social online while studying too and it's almost mesmerizing, it's definitely survivor bias but those that can balance it are fascinating to me.

📖Anthology Update

Agh enough of that debbie downer bullshit, I'll tell you what I've also got due next week! That's right!! The drafts for my anthology!

Screenie of one of the panels I posted onto my ko-fi discord!

I'm not even half way done and it's due on the 6th of December. I'm beyond FUCKED. Anyway I can get it done by then but the school shit is sucking the life out of me through my ears.

☕ Ko-Fi Page

Deadlines aside I've also randomly launched my Ko-fi Membership page! I haven't quite had the time to properly promote it but it's there and I've been updating it every so often

I've got stuff up there already and comics of things that aren't polished (or sfw) enough for me to post. Especially if you're interested in my characters and would like to support me, here's a good hub to check all of it out!

The Ko-fi Discord updates the most frequently, basically every time I draw anything (Which is quite often!). The actual ko-fi gallery is only being updated every week to prevent spam.

Shout out to my one ko-fi member, wormfriend. Right now it's quite funny to have just the one but I definitely would like more so plz join!!! I promise I draw a lot!!!

🌯 Wrapping it up...

That's all I've got for you this month, real grind-y and uneventful but hey some moths are like that. I talked about opening my commissions again in December and I intend to keep that promise but as of yet the first week is not looking too hot haha. I'll consider it on the 7th but whuff it's real packed right now!

I don't have really anything else to say or add that isn't either

a) incredibly negative and self deprecating

or

b) cussing the shit out of disrespectful transphobic anonymous asks I've been getting

so I'm just going to end this hastily written blog update here and get back to work!

I leave you with this cool down drawing of a honda civic and my attempts at a motorcycle that can also hover in the air.

As always thank you so much for reading and I've been so busy I haven't even had time to work on my annual redraw that's been sitting in my folders gah! If you’d like to support me, here’s my ko-fi page again and my itchi.io & gumroad as well.

If you have any questions or just generally want to talk to me, my DMs and askbox is always open! Any professional enquires can be sent towards my email as well: eliotlime@gmail.com

XOXO, Stay weird!

-Eliot :)

[reveriememory]

Astarion x Tav OC

Cat and dog energy. These lovebirds roam in my daydreams! Insight about this drawing in the Read More.

Draft - Sketch & Lining - Coloring

The draft was revamped a few times, especially with my Tav’s body angle. I forced myself to be quick with it as my goal for this drawing was something “quick” and simple…ish. Since it was only headshots, I was curious to see what I would prioritize considering I lifted off most stress from full body anatomy.

Sketch and lining are together because I basically did my final sketch then sculpted in the lines, meaning I cleaned and erased the edges to my liking. You can tell Astarion got a HUGE improvement! Liquify tool is a life saver! I allowed myself to be a bit messy, or at least forgiving about line quirks. Technically, I didn’t line the pupils and hair, as I’ve learned to work off its silhouette. I block in the shape, Alpha Lock, then render/color. It’s an awkward in between but for the sake of nice images, I adjusted them to fit the line art, otherwise I’d have to leave them bald.

Coloring, I work through sections, so here I jump around a lot! I had a lot of fun figuring out how to mimic traditional art, and kept swooning at how cute this was LOL. I had a lot of fun with my new brushes and the setup inspired me to keep working. Although, that could also be the 8 hour sessions of BG3 talking. Astarion was very scary to color, so you can imagine how HAPPY I was to have pulled this off! He took the most time. Goes to show just how comfortable I was with this style of drawing that I didn’t feel super drained!

Finalizing

I was going to call it done at that first one, but decided I could do more. Here is where I just messed around with different ideas, adding layers and color adjustments. In this case, I wanted something to compliment the traditional feel and really send the message across. I did a white border just as I would’ve years ago, when I did traditional art. It felt right to write in my signature instead as well. I used to love using gel pens. The final image has a little gradient map color filter, just to tie the colors together. I like giving my drawings a nice dreamy warmth to them.

Conclusion

I need to draw these two more. Astarion is a painful muse. Bury me with this drawing. I should do a proper character study on my Tav. He’s a sweet little redeemed Durge, I like to think of him as Astarion’s bloody droplet. Also I need to actually play Durge.

I’m so happy with this drawing. ;)

[tempestmothstorm]

Ough these are all so good may I suggest some more ideas because this post has invaded my thoughts for over a week

Act 1 is gonna be mostly normal, but there’s a few hand written pen notes in the margins making sly remarked about the cheesy writing. I think Monika’s effects can range from directly editing and redacting text to writing with pen when she wants to speak directly with you. For the experience of some rando picking up the book at a library, it might seem like the last owner just vandalized the book to write random editors notes, only for it’s comments to slowly become weirder until it’s revealed that it was write by one of the characters in an attempt to speak directly to you.

This only exists as random quips up until the final part with Sayori where it doesn’t really describe the scene but instead just had mc’s thoughts like a stream of consciousness, up until he starts repeating the word never, where it repeats into the next few pages with a single line made up with that singular word, repeating over and over until is turns into the silhouette of a hanging corpse. Only then does the reader know what happened

Never

Never

Never

Never

Never

Never

And after a few blank pages, the hand writing of the previous owner appears, almost acting as if this was a silly accident.

“Geez, this draft went pretty badly! I don’t even know is where else to take this! Maybe I should just start over?”

After skipping through a ripped page, the story seemingly starts over as if nothing ever happened

This is where act 2 starts, at page 1 again under the ruse of a different draft, making the book seem like an incomplete project you weren’t meant to see. It’s starts the same as the first page, but now it’s got all that house of leaves spooks in there. Some examples or ideas include

When introducing the club, it reads something like this. Similar to house being written slightly different in house of leaves, so will Monika every time her name shows up

And ████, Yuri, Natsuki, and Monika all seem nice enough anyways.

Altered text can be in different fonts similar to the one with Monika’s name

or it could be overlayed onto of the original text, effectively making it unreadable as if Monika tried and failed to replace it

It could also look to be manually scribbled out with pen

Or it could have a whole text box covering a paragraph halfway through it, making pretty clear that the following words aren’t supposed to be there

Also more ripped pages. I think if this existed in real life the book would instantly become way more expensive lol

Maybe some of the secret poems can be in the text boxes, randomly being inserted midway through a page and interrupting whatever else was going on

I think when Yuri starts talking about the portrait of markov it’ll show an excerpt in the first act, but by the second act it becomes the blackout ‘nothing is real’ secret poem

Actually more blackout poems in general as Monika tries to censor more words. Blackout poems are cool

In more of the moments where Monika talks directly to the player like in the big argument scene or one of Yuri’s monologues where she slowly fades in, her dialogue will be written in pen instead of any typeface

Those text files like iiiiiii.txt and stuff also show up as tiny pen notes overlapping the actual text, writing over the scene but faint enough that you could probably ignore it

Those scenes where the game forgets it ever happens (like the play with me and water fountain scene) could have a paragraph get cut off by the page limit with the next page being ripped out and the next not following where the paragraph left off at all

Yuri’s death scene plays out like a normal scene where the narrator doesn’t acknowledge how insane everything Yuri says even is, until it gets to the part where she stabs herself where the text is suddenly cut off by a garbled mess of meaningless words, messed up fonts, redacted text, and several ink splatters. This goes on for several pages until Natsuki shows up for a quick paragraph before leaving, allowing Monika to enter

Yuri pulls out a knife and sta████████

I honestly don’t know how the whole deleting thing works in a book. Logictics wise the story requires a few stretches to make a book, but it could work out. I think in the story, text is the only way the characters can interact with the real world, with Monika being able to edit it herself (this implies she can’t operate a writing program the same way she can’t code. L) I guess instead of the the command panel announcing everyone’s character files being deleted, she’ll just type out that everyone died, with her writing taking over the narrator making the edits a reality.

After a few ripped pages the next empty page has nothing but Monika’s handwritten pen, stating that she’s been the one to write all those notes and that now that she can talk to you directly she’s finally not alone. What follows is a bunch of her act 3 talks, writes mostly in pen with a few things like her poem and hidden text files write in the regular typeface when making edits to the book.

I have no idea how to end this, especially since deleting character files doesn’t translate as well into a book. But yeah act 4 plays out as it does in game before, with Sayori suddenly being able to edit the book and also write with the pen too, just with different handwriting to Monika.

Monika ends up scribbling over the rest of the pages before leaving a few ripped out. The final paragraphs are on the inside of the book cover way after the copyright page where she says her final goodbyes and writes the lyrics to your reality

Ok that’s it this idea is cool

I wonder what DDLC would be like novelised. How they would transition from the cutesty façade into the horror. I could imagine the formatting of the book glitching like the game does, maybe some pages have the wrong page number, the font, color and size of the text changing, seemingly blank pages that have very faint text on them that you can only see if you look super closely, codes hidden in paragraphs, how Monika trying to break out of the story into reality would be portrayed, etc

[wonder-worker]

Wild how we know that Elizabeth Woodville was officially appointed to royal councils in her own right during her husband’s reign and fortified the Tower of London in preparation of a siege while 8-months pregnant and had forces gathering at Westminster “in the queen’s name” in 1483 – only for NONE of these things to be even included, let alone explored, in the vast majority of scholarship and historical novels involving her.

[sailing-through-hawkins]

When the apocalypse happened, it was just a random Wednesday.

Well, it was for Eddie.

For the kids, it wasn't that random and it was a long time coming sort of thing.

"We've been dealing with this kind of shit for a while," Dustin had told him nonchalantly as he handed a bottle, ready to be set on fire, over to Lucas, who settled it in a box of other weaponry. "It's like, our yearly bonding activity."

"You've been fighting zombies for years?!" Eddie had said. "But you're toddlers!"

"First of all, shut the fuck up," Max glared at him before sniffing. "They weren't - always zombies."

"What does that mean?"

"We were trying to take down the lab," Lucas sighed, patting the side of the box. "They did some freaky shit in there and we wanted to stop them."

"It went wrong." Will continued, and Eddie's neck was aching so bad from all the spinning his head was doing. "They released some kind of neuro-agent and we..."

"We had to leave." Dustin said blankly. Eddie peered down at him, watching the slightest tremble of his lip before he rubbed the bridge of his nose and continued preparing the cocktails. "But we're gonna fix it."

To this day, Eddie has a feeling that the "it" isn't really about the zombies somehow.

"Ready?" Jonathan nods and Eddie nods back.

Everyone else is in the garage with them while they get ready for the supply run.

Lucas was the one to encourage them to come up with quick-time strategies, something about using them back when he played basketball but Eddie distinctly remembers him not joining the team so he has no idea what he's talking about.

Dustin sits with him over their blueprints, arguing about codenames and extraction points, sometimes tapping at the shiny watch he never takes off.

Nancy Wheeler, blessed badass that she is, is polishing off a freshly-sawed gun, her eyes glancing over to Jonathan every other second like he's going to just disappear if she doesn't.

Mike sits with Will and the girl-from-out-of-town, Elle, weirdly quiet as the other two talk through some other strategy blueprints that Lucas handed to them.

Joyce, Hopper, the weird Murray guy, they're all having some sort of group huddle in the back, glancing over with fake-smiles (Joyce's is the most believeable one) once Eddie starts the car.

Through the window, he can see Robin, as stern and as ever, right beside a blank-faced Max, her hand tightening its grip on her axe. He wonders what Robin sees, when they have to go out into the desolation. When her normally tired eyes become fierce and her numb tone becomes snarling.

How many years have they had to face this shit?

Why, whenever they gather round in any place, no matter how small, is there always an empty space between Robin and Dustin?

What happened to these people?

[bloodfin]

quintessence ghouls have their cool healing and body powers, but i think water ghouls also frequently found in the halls of healing.

they have naturally cool temperatures, helping to soothe fevers. water bends to their will, they can clear sinuses with one tap to the forehead. dry eyes, dry mouth, dry skin, burns, all relieved by water's gentle touch.

sure, it's not setting bones and stealing migraines and sensing and preventing harm before it even occurs, but it's healing all the same

i thought too much about this

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

Aftermath au: Red Letter Day

Barney gets a call that Gordon Freeman had been found after ten years of being missing in action.

Word count: 4382

Notes: Another fic for my au "Aftermath" because I think its neat. I'm not sure what else to put here, enjoy the fic

Barney was beginning to remember how much he hated Winter as he stared through the warehouse window in front of him. Despite it being the beginning of March, spring was yet to come, meaning the snow was still falling with the temperature following suit. Barney had always hated the season, and as much as he tried, he could never come up with a proper reason. Maybe it was the fact it was cold, wet, and dreary, making any trip outside miserable, or perhaps it was the fact he was mainly cooped up inside all day, leaving him to get cabin fever. Or maybe it was a mixture of those two at the same time, along with the loneliness that came from them. No matter the reason, Barney kept quiet about it, realizing he had no ability to change the weather. All he could do was drink his hot coffee and put on a few more layers than usual. 

Barney took a sip from his mug as he looked away from the window, instead focusing his attention back into the room he was in. It was a storage room, full of random junk and scientific doodads Barney had no knowledge of. Boxes and crates were stacked up in piles taller than he was, stacked in such a way that it made Barney nervous even being near them in the case of them toppling over. Due to the lack of a radiator in that room, it was even chillier than the rest of the refurbished warehouse, making Barney glad he was wearing the warmest sweatpants he could find in his closet, along with a worn out grey hoodie, with the logo on the front being so faded that it was hard to make out as Black Mesa’s logo.

As he looked around, he was startled by the sound of a box slamming against the concrete floor, along with a short exclamation. “Oh, blast it!” “You alright, Doc?” Barney asked the other man in the room, watching as he bent over to pick up the fallen crate.

“I’m fine, just…hoping whatever was in here isn’t fragile…” 

Dr. Isaac Kleiner, or “Doc” as Barney referred to him as, was wearing a white lab coat over a robin-egg-blue dress-shirt and black tie, trading warmth for safety at his place of work. His glasses were slipping off his face as he moved boxes and rummaged through everything in the storage room, making it even more of a mess than it was before. 

“Where on earth could she have gone?” Kleiner asked, not necessarily expecting an answer. “There aren’t any vents she could have crawled in, are there?”

“I hope not,” Barney stated. “Last thing I want is that thing to fall on someone.” As Kleiner looked under a table, Barney spoke up again. “You think it ran off or something?”

“Oh no, I don’t believe so,” Kleiner stood up straight, “I’m sure she wouldn’t. After all, she needs to get fed eventually, so I imagine she’ll come out for that.” “If the thing didn’t eat someone's cat or something.”

“Hush!” Kleiner held a finger up to his mouth, causing both he and Barney to become silent as he listened closely. Barney attempted to hear what Kleiner was listening for, but to no avail, hearing nothing but silence. “Fie! I could’ve sworn I heard her moving around…”

Barney let out an exhausted sigh, “Doc, please, there’s plenty of those pests out there–”

“But there’s only ONE Lamar!”

“...Right.”

“Now, are you going to help me look?” Kleiner adjusted his crooked glasses, “Or are you going to simply stand there, doing nothing?”

“Uh…” Barney glanced away, thinking for a moment. “...No thanks.”

“Oh, you act like she’s some kind of wild animal.”

“It kinda is.”

“She’s been de-beaked and trained, and you know this!” Kleiner stated as he walked towards a filing cabinet near the corner of the room.

“‘Trained;’ I don’t think that thing is really…trained. My dog is trained, and I know you can train cats, but I don’t think you can train a literal parasite–”

“Oh! I think I’ve got something!” Kleiner said excitedly, “Help me move this cabinet, would you please?”

Barney reluctantly approached the metal cabinet as Kleiner positioned himself to the side of it, ready to move it as soon as Barney was. As soon as Barney placed his free hand against the side of it, he pushed, with Kleiner on the other side pulling it towards him.

Barney let out a loud yelp when something leaped at him from behind the cabinet, causing him to fall on his back and drop his mug on the floor. It was Lamar, the “Pet” headcrab that Kleiner had lost, and it was even uglier up close. As it laid on Barney’s chest, its six small, beady eyes stared back at him as he remained absolutely still, afraid of it trying to attack him. Its teeth on its stomach prodded at his stomach, along with its chipped, large front claws, which had colorful duct-tape covering the tips of them to prevent them from being too sharp. After a few moments of tense silence, Kleiner came to the rescue, picking up Lamar from where it rested on Barney’s torso, allowing him to take a breath.

“LAMAR!” Kleiner exclaimed, looking at his pet with relief in his eyes, “Oh, delightful! I’m so happy to see you weren’t left out in the cold somewhere…”

“Mm-hm…” Barney lifted himself off the ground, looking at his feet to see his knocked over coffee cup, with its contents spilled over. “Ugh…” 

Barney picked up his cup from the floor as Kleiner let Lamar go, watching as it waddled across the floor before jumping up onto one of the tables. Barney stared at it with contempt, the opposite reaction to Lamar’s rediscovery compared to Kleiner’s joy. 

“Do you even have a license for that thing?” Barney questioned as Lamar sat down on top of some loose documents. “If you don’t and animal control finds it, they’ll kill it–”

“I’m…in the process of getting one,” Kleiner stated, voice stumbling slightly. “And I hope no one finds her, cause if they do…I’m afraid of what you said coming true. I’m sure it will be fine regardless, at least she knows to stay inside.”

“...Sure.”

“Is everyone safe?”

Barney and Kleiner turned towards the doorway that led to the rest of the warehouse, seeing a lone, albino Vortigaunt staring back at them with her four maroon eyes. She was wearing a similar lab coat to Kleiner’s, with a borrowed pair of black dress pants, along with a fitted light brown sweater, with a hole in the middle of her chest for her third pseudo arm. She stared at Kleiner and Barney for a little while before Barney answered her question. 

“Yeah, we’re fine…” Barney sighed, glancing towards Lamar, “We just found Kleiner’s…pet.”

“Everything’s under control, Violet, you can get back to work!” Kleiner added.

“I see.” Violet’s gravelly voice seemed quieter than usual, making Barney’s brows furrow a bit.

“You alright?” He asked.

Violet seemed puzzled. “Hm?”

“Are you doing alright? I have noticed you’ve been a bit…closed off for the past few hours.” Kleiner inquired.

“We have been…distracted…” Violet responded. “I imagine it will be cleared up soon.”

“We?” Barney asked.

Violet didn’t answer. “I must get back to helping the others…the teleporter is nearly ready for its first test...”

“Oh! Wonderful. I’ll be there in a little bit.” Kleiner stated as Violet left the room. Barney remained puzzled, looking back at Kleiner with a feeling of unease in his chest.

“She said ‘we’.” Barney stated.

“I’m aware,” Kleiner responded. “You see, the Vortigaunts are able to tap into something they refer to as the ‘Vortessence’, and are thus all conne–”

“I know, Doc, I just…” Barney paused for a second. “If she’s talking about all the Vortigaunts, then wouldn’t that be a bit worrying?”

“...Maybe, but I'm not sure.” Kleiner stated. “Though, one of the members of the survey team we sent earlier today was a Vortigaunt, and that team hasn’t returned yet so…maybe there is a connection there.”

“Maybe.”

“Either way, I believe i’ll go and speak with her, just to make sure everything’s alri–”

Barney’s phone ringing from his pocket interrupted their thoughts, and when Barney pulled it out of his pocket and flipped it open, he saw the number was from one of his coworkers at the hospital. “Sorry, I gotta take this.”

“You’re fine, you go ahead and I’ll go check in with the others.”

Barney nodded, watching Kleiner leave the room before he answered the call and put his phone up to his ear.

“Hello?”

Barney listened closely to the person on the other end of the phone, barely processing what they were saying. 

“What’s going on? 

Not going to believe what? 

So what, why are you telling me this?”

Barney listened closely, all before he felt his heart skip a beat. The sinking feeling in his chest was enough to render him silent, all before he let out a meek “I’ll call you later.”

Barney rushed out of the room, running past Kleiner in the process, nearly pushing him over as he approached the exit. “Barney? What’s going on, are you alright–” “They found him.” Barney’s voice shook as he spoke, with him barely being able to make out the words from how tight his throat was.

“Found who?”

Barney was already out of the building by the time Kleiner asked the question, leaving it unanswered.

Barney saw his own breath clouding in front of his face as he sprinted across the parking lot of the warehouse, nearly slipping on ice multiple times but not giving any time to care. When he reached his car, he swung the door open and crawled inside, starting the engine and speeding off without a single word. His thoughts ran through his head faster than his car was capable of going, slurring together without a single cohesive thought coming through. He didn’t care if he was a few miles above the speed limit; he needed to get to the hospital as soon as possible. He needed to see if what his coworker said was right.

If it was truly Gordon Freeman that was brought into the ER, he needed to be there.

When Barney made it to the hospital lot, he rushed through the front doors, looking around before approaching the front desk, out of breath from both the physical and mental strain that was put on him. Through harsh breaths, he asked, “Is Gordon Freeman here?”, with pleading eyes focused on the woman behind the desk.

“Oh, hello Mr. Calhoun, I can look through the system for a ‘Gordon Freeman’, if you’ll sit tight for a moment.” She looked towards the computer in front of her, typing in something and looking through files as Barney waited, his impatience building up inside of him.

“Fuck this.” He pushed himself away from the desk, storming down one of the hallways despite the woman at the front desk telling him he wasn’t allowed to as he was off duty. Barney rushed past hospital workers, asking them if they knew where Gordon was, only to be met with worried and frightened looks along with no answers. Barney’s frustration only grew as he ran through the hospital halls, with the familiar building beginning to feel like a maze meant to confuse him. As he ran further into the hospital wing, he slammed against one of the doctors in the hall, causing him to topple to the ground as Barney tripped over his own feet.

“Sorry, I just have to–”

“Barney? What the hell are you doing back here?” The man questioned as Barney sped past him.

“I’m looking for Gordon Freeman,” Barney answered, turning around. “Have you seen him?”

“He’s in the ER right now,” The man snapped back as he slowly stood up. “You can’t see him until he’s out of surgery.”

“Surgery? Is he safe? Is he alright?” Barney questioned, walking closer to the doctor. 

“Yes, he’ll be fine, just…” The doctor let out a tired sigh. “Get out of here, you’re off duty and risking your job with a stunt like this.”

“I need to see Gordon, alright?” Barney explained. “He’s been gone for a fucking DECADE, and he’s been found again, I can’t just leave him–”

“Calhoun.” The man raised his voice as he glared at Barney with a look of both contempt and pity. “...Listen, just wait until he’s out and I’ll see what I can do, do you understand?”

Barney remained silent for a moment, letting out a sharp breath before nodding. “Alright,” He stated, defeated. “But he better be getting the best treatment in there.”

“I’m sure they’re doing all they can, they understand his reputation–”

“I don’t care about his reputation, if i’m right, that’s my goddamn friend in there.” Barney spat. “...Let me know when he’s out. I need to at least…make sure it’s…the right guy.”

“I’m sure someone will let you know.” The doctor stated. “...Now please go back to the waiting room before I call security.”

Barney did as he was told, reluctantly walking across the hospital premises and back into the waiting room, where he will stay for another few hours. He paced around the room, bounced his foot up and down, fidgeted with his hands; anything to try and pass the time as the minutes passed by agonizingly slow. After he had already been there for what felt like days within the timespan of a few hours, he saw a nurse walk towards him. “Mr. Calhoun?”

Barney’s head lifted up, looking towards the nurse before following her down a hallway. After a couple-minutes walk, they stopped in front of a door leading to a recovery room. “He’s in there,” The nurse stated. “He’s currently sleeping, so I ask you to be quiet and not attempt to wake him up.”

“...Yeah.” Barney hesitated before walking through the door, stepping into the room, seeing a curtain blocking his view of the bed. He paused, standing in place for a moment as he wondered if the face he was about to see was truly Gordon, or simply someone mistaken as him. He wondered if he wanted the answer, or if he’d rather live in ignorance, avoiding the crippling disappointment if it wasn’t the man he thought it was, but as he walked past the curtain, every worry in his mind ceased and his thoughts became silent as he looked at the man on the bed.

Sure, his body was covered with blood-soaked bandages, his right leg was in a cast, he had medical equipment around him, and he was missing his glasses, but his face was painfully recognizable. Barney choked back a sob, covering his mouth when he saw Gordon’s face again.

“Are you alright?” The nurse behind him asked, noticing Barney’s teary-eyed look.

“I’m fine.” Barney whispered before letting out a short chuckle and a forced smile. “It’s just…he didn’t change a damn bit.”

Barney hadn’t even noticed it had been an hour since he entered the room, being surprised when he glanced at the clock and saw it was nearing 10 PM. He sat on a chair beside Gordon’s bed, having moved it from the corner of the room to right beside it. His leg bounced up and down as he looked at Gordon, all before lowering his head and letting out a deep sigh. He wished to speak to him but he was out of words he could possibly say at that very moment, not to mention the wish to stay quiet so Gordon could recover without being woken up. He wanted to tell Gordon everything that had happened in his absence; how Kleiner started up another lab to continue Black Mesa’s studies, how Eli also set up one on the other side of the city, and how Barney had finished college and was able to become a nurse. Gordon missed so much, and even though Barney wished to dump every piece of information onto him, he realized that even the realization that it had been ten years would be overwhelming enough. Thus, Barney figured to start simple, and just talk, like friends, for the first time since the Black Mesa incident.

As Barney leaned back into his seat he felt the back of his head hit something that wasn’t there before, feeling bitter cold yet organic at the same time, like a corpse’s fingers curling around the top of the backrest. He swung around, half expecting someone to be there, yet he saw nothing of the sort, seeing only the beige wall behind him. Barney let out his breath, looking back at Gordon before realizing he should head back; his stress and emotional state must have made him paranoid, not to mention the feeling of his hair standing on end. He stood up, walking towards the door out of the room before taking one last look back at Gordon before he finally left.

Later that night, Barney paced around his living room, being watched by his pet rottweiler as he talked on the phone. “The Survey team were the ones that found him?” he asked.

“That’s what they said,” Kleiner stated from the other side of the line. “The Vortigaunt was apparently the one that found him, specifically.”

“I see.”

“Quite Miraculous,” Kleiner continued, “The fact that Gordon had survived there for ten years before being found.”

“Yeah…” Barney unsurely stated under his breath.

“Nevermind that, what are you planning now?” Kleiner asked. “Should we have some kind of party? A celebration should be in order for him being back, I’d say–”

“I think he needs rest, he’s…been through a lot.” Barney stated. “I’ve thought of him staying over at my place until he can find a place of his own or until he recovers, but we’ll see how he’s feeling.”

“Are you sure? I’m sure we can find a spare room in the lab for him.”

“I dunno if he’d wanna live in a loud lab with a headcrab, doc.”

“...I suppose you have a fair point.”

“It was just so…strange.” Barney stated. “They say it was a ten year coma, but I don’t buy it. I don’t buy it at all.” “What makes you believe that?” 

“The fact he was bleeding. The fact he had fresh wounds from Black Mesa,” Barney elaborated, brows furrowed and his free arm crossing over his chest. “Not to mention the fact he was found with that…suit on.” “What kind of suit?” Kleiner questioned. “Oh, do you mean the Hazardous Environment Suit?”

“Yeah. Why would he be wearing it ten years after the incident was already over?”

“Who knows,” Kleiner sighed, “I’m sure I can talk with Eli to see if he has any ideas on–” Kleiner was interrupted by a loud crash and squeaking coming from behind him, audible through Barney’s phone. “Goodness gracious, LAMAR, NO–”

“You alright Doc?” 

“I’ll have to speak with you later, Lamar got in the vents again–Lamar get DOWN from there, that’s not safe!” After that, the call ended, and Barney was left to himself once again. Barney sighed, putting his phone back in his pocket before he heard a deep ruff coming from his dog, who was laying next to the couch in the living room, with its white patches of fur on its snout showing its age.

“You hear that, Gordon?” Barney said. “You might get a new roommate…a…different Gordon.”

The dog yawned and rested his head on his paws as Barney walked towards the living room couch, sitting on it and resting his feet on the coffee table in front of it. He leaned over the armrest, scratching the top of the dog’s head. “Guess I’ll have to explain to him why you’re also named Gordon, huh bud?”

Gordon didn’t respond, instead just letting out a soft ruff again. Barney leaned back in his seat, staring up at the ceiling before folding his hands on top of his stomach. He wasn’t looking forward to explaining why his pet was named after his friend, he realized. After all, it’s not very easy to tell someone you thought they were dead for years.

As soon as Barney received the call that Gordon was awake the following evening, Barney rushed back to the hospital to visit him once again. As he drove across the city, worries he didn’t think about before began to creep up inside his brain. Even though he didn’t necessarily believe the coma theory the doctors had, nor did he believe even they believed it fully, he thought of the possibility of it being true, and if Gordon would even remember who Barney was after a full decade of sleep. It would be a surprise if Gordon remembered anything after that amount of time, but Barney pushed down his pessimism, trying to be optimistic just this once.

After making his way down the hospital hallway once again, he found himself back in front of the door to Gordon’s room, with a nervous feeling deep in his gut as he prepared to walk inside. He took in a breath and stepped inside, looking towards the bed in which Gordon was laying on, only to have his gaze met by two bright green eyes, ones Barney hadn't seen since ten years prior. Barney froze in place, staring back at Gordon, who appeared to be surprised to see him. As Barney sat down in the chair beside the bed, he swallowed hard, wondering what he could possibly say now that Gordon was awake. As he thought to himself, a question left his mouth that he wasn’t initially planning on asking:

“Where were you?”

The question lingered in the air like a foul odor, with Gordon’s brows furrowing lip quivering slightly, all while he curled his hands into fists. He turned away from Barney, looking down at his feet, thinking of something to say, though his hands didn’t once lift up to sign a single word.

“You…disappear for 10 years without warning,” Barney continued. “Leaving everyone to believe you were dead.”

Gordon didn’t make eye contact with Barney as he spoke.

“I thought you were dead and buried somewhere, Gordon,” Barney choked. “But…You’re here in front of me now.”

Gordon glanced at Barney before he felt arms being wrapped around his shoulders, tight, but not too tight to make it hurt.

“I fucking missed you, Gordon.” Barney said as he hugged Gordon, feeling the gesture being returned to him. Gordon’s hands shook, feeling weak and cold, yet he didn’t want to let go of the single shred of kindness he had felt since what felt like eternity. After a few moments Barney let go, sitting back down with red, tear-filled eyes. 

“...You…missed a lot.” Barney stated; Gordon nodded knowingly in response. “I’d tell ya’ everything, but…I don’t even know how to start.”

“Are they safe?” Gordon’s hands were shaking, but Barney could make out the message regardless.

“Who, like…Kleiner? Eli?”

Gordon nodded slightly, lips pursed in anticipation. 

“They’re alright,” Barney assured, allowing Gordon to let out a breath. “In fact…they’re excited to see you again. Kleiner especially, he’s hoping to get you back into his lab…don’t know if you want to do that, but the offer’s there.”

Gordon appeared to have had a weight lifted off his shoulders at the news, but the cold yet somber gaze didn’t leave his eyes. Barney planned to tell Gordon that they were among the few survivors of the Black Mesa incident, but he bit his tongue for the time being.

“...Never thought you’d be in the history books, did ya?” Barney let out a lighthearted chuckle in an attempt to lighten the mood. “You’re a hero in everyone’s eyes, now.”

Gordon shook his head, looking down and away from Barney’s gaze as he clasped his hands together on his lap. Barney stared at him with a look of confusion and worry, all before forcefully clearing his throat. 

“I’m just…happy to see you alive, Gordon.” Barney stated. “After…a few years I began to…to lose hope.” Barney paused for a second, realizing Gordon was still not meeting his gaze. “...Should’ve known you were a tougher son of a bitch than that, I guess.”

Gordon scoffed slightly before shaking his head again, still staring at his feet. Silence fell as Barney attempted to think of something else to say to ease the tense atmosphere, though his thoughts were blank and void of any ideas. Barney looked towards Gordon yet again, seeing he was raising his hands up to sign something:

“Missed you too.”

Barney smiled slightly, despite feeling as if he wanted to cry right then and there. He never anticipated he’d be this emotional in his life, yet here he was; about to cry for the second time that day. Seeing his legally dead friend after ten years of being missing in action was enough to warrant it, he supposed.

“I’m sure the others will be happy to show you everything they’ve been working on,” Barney said, with Gordon finally looking back up at him, before looking directly behind him, “They’ve been working on a new telepor–”

Gordon flinched, staring at something behind Barney before attempting to crawl backwards, nearly ripping off his IV in the process. Barney looked behind him, seeing nothing but the wall before he heard a loud thud coming from the bed. He turned, seeing Gordon had fallen off of the bed and onto the cold linoleum floor. “Gordon!” Barney quickly ran to his aid, holding out an arm for Gordon to grab, lifting him off of the floor. When weight was put onto his right leg, Gordon grimaced, using Barney as leverage as he was put back onto the bed. “Jeez Gordon, what got you freaked out so ba–”

Barney was silenced when Gordon hugged him without warning. Barney could hear him quietly sobbing into his shoulder, and as he returned the hug, he wondered if he had ever seen Gordon so touchy before; It was as if he hadn’t had human contact in days. This time however, Barney wasn’t quick to let go. The last thing he wanted to do was leave his best friend behind again.

Not this time.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

I'm in love with your drawing of Wally and Howdy fighting over the arm. I love how mad Poppy is. Her saying "is2g" gave me the idea that she starts cussing more the longer she has to deal with this bs. And I'm also imagining Frank leaning against Eddie's hat saying "oh Eddie we're really in it now"

10 out of 10 artwork. Good job. No notes.

it has been Well Received it seems! i'm very pleased, i was hoping i wouldn't be the only one who found it funny ahaha

and i couldn't resist: