#i might be adding to this when/if i get around to finishing that crack vid so watch this space

[leqclerc]

tumblr user leqclerc’s video edit masterlist

formula 1:

Sebastian & Charles | All The Things She Said [x] Sebastian & Charles | Reconsider [x] Sebastian & Charles | Some Say [x] Sebastian & Charles | Running Up That Hill [x] Sebastian & Charles | Thousand Miles [x] Sebastian & Charles | Umbrella (unfinished) [x] Charles Leclerc x Ditch by Empara Mi [x] Nico & Lewis, Sebastian & Charles | Be Kind [x] Nico & Lewis | Somebody Else [x] Nico & Lewis | I Just Wanna Know [x]

football: Robert & Thomas | Shape Of You [x]

[morifinwes]

Lauraa I finished all the fics, apart from decay (currently reading that now) and I love it sm! Especially the lip gloss one lmao the whole thing was so hilarious to me XD but also like the concept of lwj wearing lipgloss is >>> -yibobibo

@yibobibo then i'm going to rec you some more!! the lip gloss one was !!!!! ajsksks yes!! lwj wearing lipgloss is just so!! good!!

modern

this one is the painful one i talked about:

visitations by var_abelasan (12K, wip, divorced wangxian, post divorce, most of this is angst, uhm lowkey don't but also do want wangxian to end up together, it's messy, the jiangs & lans are shitty, wwx was in prison (brief mentions of that but it's kind of a major plot point), mxy & xy are the little brothers he never wanted but wwx picked them up anyways)

"Wei Ying-" Lan Zhan says, stutters, "I'm sorry." 

And now Wei Wuxian sees it, the red rimming Lan Zhan's eyes, the rumpled edges of his blazer. There is an old, familiar urge for him to reach over, to hold Lan Zhan's hand and smooth his hair, to tell him that everything will be fine. 

"We're all a bit sorry about this, I think," he says instead, and finds that he means it. For Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji and everyone else in that Guanyin temple, the pain must be unbearably fresh, like skin just flayed open. But Wei Wuxian's chest had been cracked open a long time ago, his wounds licked and cauterized and sewn shut over five long years - Ever hurting, but a dull, constant ache, "It's really alright, Lan Zhan."

 

Five years after being accused of corporate espionage and losing everything, the Guanyin Scandal breaks open and Wei Wuxian finds a familiar face at his door.

please don't let me be misunderstood by sysrae (3K, partly deaf!wwx, lwj notices, nobody else does though, idk wwx is like made out of fucking steel or some shit)

Lan Wangji has known Wei Ying for a fortnight, the first time he sees him get hit by a car.

light by redkosmos (10K, blind!lwj, which causes angst, but they manage it, best friends to lovers, fluff, lwj being insecure and feeling like a burden, college au kind of? but it doesn't matter too much)

The realization slowly dawns on him.

He can never again see the brightness of Wei Ying's eyes, the way they crescent when he smiles, never again see the rich black of his hair, the mess of it in the early mornings, never again see the beautiful tan of his skin, the beauty of the scars and marks adorned on it, how he wears his clothes, how it hugs his frame beautifully, how he looks like he's adorably swimming in cloth when he wears Lan Zhan's, and-

(Lan Zhan loses his vision in a car accident and learns to cope with it.)

don't leave me by trippinonskies (19K, brief very brief mention of lwj cheating, he doesn't but wwx is afraid lwj is cheating on him or just wants to break up with him, (he doesn't), marriage proposal, lwj acting distant = wwx's insecurities show up, fluff, angst and comfort)

Lan Zhan! Where are you lost today?” Wei Wuxian finally asks, at the end of his patience.

Lan Zhan looks a little guilty as he looks at Wei Wuxian, “Sorry, just a lot of work to deal with.”

Lie.

If there is one thing Lan Zhan can’t do, it’s lying. Especially to Wei Wuxian. But he doesn’t question Lan Zhan. He just accepts the reply, too scared to know that he is right. Too scared to know the truth.

// or where Lan Zhan is too hung up in planning the perfect proposal and ends up accidently ignoring Wei Wuxian making the other think that he wants to break up //

want you closer by xiaobucephalus ((3K, HORSES, only in the background tho, but wwx is an equestrian vet, which is so fucking valid bro, the lans own horses, a sick bunny, lwj the bunny parent!, super cute, dark bay throughoutbred chenqing is honestly so valid)

“Thank you,” Lan Zhan said, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Don’t thank me, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying laughed again, his voice warming the chill of fear that had settled in his chest. “I’ve been looking for an excuse to get into your hutch for a while anyway.”

safe in your thoughts by anonymous (20K, it's a cherry magic au???? (i haven't watched it, but you have i think?), horny lwj but only for wwx (always for wwx))

Wei Wuxian learns three very important things on the night of his twenty-seventh birthday.

One, that Lan Wangji is ridiculously funny, which Wei Wuxian had known before but what Wei Wuxain hadn’t expected was Lan Wangji to be funny at his brother’s expense.

Two, that Wei Wuxian had finally gone mad, absolutely mental at the ripe age of twenty seven because nothing else would explain the third thing he had learnt.

Third, and the most unbelievable of the lot, that Lan Wangji wants to fuck him.

iura by yoo_im_finally_writing (1K, only added bcs op is right and wwx would've the cutest german accent, it's more fun if you understand german so hit me up if you want translations for the german sentences)

Wei Ying calls in the middle of the night to talk about German law, and Lan Zhan tries very hard not to fall asleep. Or at least, not to let Wei Ying notice he's falling asleep. (As best friends do.)

breathe in the air, the last of its kind by wereworm / @neverdoingmuch (27K, getting together, jealous!lwj, but also kind of supportive, brief mention of cheating bcs of miscommunication, no actual cheating tho, college au, lwj pov)

Following Wei Ying’s line of sight, Lan Wangji can barely prevent a smile from crossing his lips when he sees the short row of rabbit statuettes placed at the front of the display. Silver, with bright gems for eyes, they look elegant yet lively and animated.

“A-Yuan would love one of those,” Wei Ying murmurs, almost as if to himself.

Lan Wangji frowns; the rabbits, while cute, don’t seem like a suitable gift for Wei Ying’s A-Yuan.

...

It’s only when he glances back at the rabbits and notices what has been placed on display behind them, that the pieces fall into place. They’re engagement rings, there’s no doubt about it. Lan Wangji feels his heart sink – Wei Ying isn’t just dating A-Yuan, he wants to propose to him.

Or: the five times Lan Wangji thinks that A-Yuan is Wei Ying’s boyfriend and the one time he learns the truth.

paint smears on sunny days by snowshadowao3 / @angstsexual (53K, getting together, art teacher!wwx, single parent!lwj, they're rich if i remember right, wwx & lwj are both good with kids!!!, this is so good actually, fluff)

To say that he runs to his car would be incorrect, as he is a Lan, and running is both undignified and unnecessary unless in immediate danger. Nor does he slam his key into the ignition, or aggressively swerve around the cars on the freeway, or have a mild panic attack at the fact he is picking A-Yuan up late from school for the first time ever.

He comes close, though.

By the time he arrives, it’s 4:35PM, and he has imagined about fifty different worse-case scenarios. The door is partly open when he gets to it, a messy label of 104B—Art Room scrawled with chalk on a placard next to the faded wood. As he opens it fully, he expects to see a wailing, terrified child, or perhaps a scene of utter misery and betrayal.

What he finds is his son, hands covered in paint, being sung to by a beautiful, dark-haired stranger.

“Ducks live in the pond, yellow ducks, happy ducks!”

Lan Wangji stops in his tracks.

(Or: Falling in love with your son’s art teacher, in five parts)

no bunny compares by gusucloudbunny (4K, god this is cute, fluff)

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian cornered his friend one week before his birthday. “If you could have anything in the world, what would it be?”

Lan Wangji furrowed his brow at Wei Wuxian, not exactly sure how to answer that question in a truthful manner that didn’t involve confessing his undying love for his best friend.

Wei Wuxian is on a mission to get Lan Wangji the perfect gift for his birthday. What Wei Wuxian doesn't know is that the only thing Lan Wangji truly wants is him.

wei wuxian's week of realizing things by photojenny (12K, i have read this multiple times, i always forget what happens, idk why but my notes say it's good, the tags say drunkji makes an appearance and i'm always up for that)

"Lan Zhan, do you like Mianmian?" asked Wei Wuxian.

Lan Wangji blinked, and stared. It was not the first time Lan Wangji had questioned the perceptiveness of the boy he had a crush on. Wei Wuxian had been smart in the class they had taken together. Yet time and time again, Wei Wuxian had tested the old wisdom that there are no stupid questions.

---

Lan Wangji must figure out how to confess when Wei Wuxian is the most oblivious person he's ever met.

are you my wisdom tooth? because i'd like to take you out by yellowcarnations (1K, crack, fluff, lwj stop flirting with a stranger, even if he is your husband, drunkji but make it to max level)

Lan Zhan wakes up and he has no idea where he is.

There are bright lights and his jaw hurts, he doesn't who this man next to his bed is but oh he might be in love, maybe, probably, definitely.

–

based off that guy-forgets-who-his-wife-is-and-hits-on-her vid but its wangxian.

beep! goes his heart by wearing_tearing (3K, fluff, lwj is like "he, he likes me right? he likes me" and everyone is like "yes, yes he does")

“Wei Ying’s heart monitor,” Lan Wangji starts.

Wen Qing blinks at him. “Yes?”

“It beeps.”

“That’s… what they generally do, yes.”

“The beeps change,” Lan Wangji continues, “when others are around.”

*

Wei Ying’s heart only sings for Lan Wangji.

canon

obedient and bellicose by thunderwear (19K, lwj is cursed by the lan elders, they notice too late, fix-it fic kind of?, lqr being a good uncle and lxc is a good brother, wwx accidentally uses the curse but he doesn't know about it)

It took Lan Wangji a long time to realize he was cursed. Too long really, anyone else would have noticed so much sooner. The problem was, he liked following the rules.

Ella Enchanted AU that no one needed but I wanted.

hello my old heart, how have you been? by ravenditefairylights (10K, amnesia, fluff, wwx taking care of lwj, so much fluff and softness, angst too but not that much)

The issue is, Lan Wangji brings his thoughts back before they stray too far, that it is impossible for someone to be in his bed, unless Lan Wangji himself invited them. He has not. He would remember doing so, and besides, all his night clothes are still on and there is no headache to imply that he was inebriated last night. No, the situation is simple.

There is someone in Lan Wangji’s bed. It is impossible for anyone to be in Lan Wangji’s bed, and yet that doesn’t seem to have stopped the stranger.

or lan wangji wakes up, and wei ying is there. he doesn't understand how or why, and he can understand even less why his hallucination of wei ying is so insistent on bathing him, and braiding his hair, on holding him and fixing his clothes. why the hallucination of wei ying seems so happy to see him.

teach me the way by likeafox (58K, rogue cultivator!wwx, horny wangxian, lwj wants wwx to teach him how to be a good lover, ....wwx is a virgin, the porn is the plot, but there's less of it than i thought)

"I do not wish to leave my future spouse… dissatisfied with my intimate knowledge,” Lan Zhan says, very seriously. “I am hoping to find an instructor, to better prepare myself for such matters."

Wei Ying feels his mouth drop open. He's pretty sure the Second Jade of Lan just told him he's a virgin who wants to learn how to do sex good.

Rogue Cultivator Wei Wuxian is the stuff of local legends. Some of those legends are even true! The ones about his tremendous experience in bed, on the other hand, are not so true. Which becomes a problem when Lan Wangji, on the verge of an arranged marriage and worried he won’t know how to please his future spouse, enlists Wei Ying's help to teach him the art of love-making. Wei Ying's great at improvisation, though, and is pretty sure he's got this sex mentor thing under control. What could possibly go wrong

other aus

of god: my love unholy by tunnelodfawn (3K, tw blood / war, dark!lwj, god!wwx, kind of poetry)

Lan Zhan takes everything as a sign from his god. The blood staining his fingertips—a holy anointment. He sanctifies himself through blood. The strings of his guqin gleam red in the sun—a divine blessing. This is an instrument of destruction. A single note—a cry of power—and in this note the voice of his god unravels the earthly threads tethering man to earth.

The Yiling Patriarch blesses Lan Zhan with war. Wei Wuxian blesses Lan Zhan with agility. Wei Ying blesses Lan Zhan with love.

The base of the Yiling Patriarch’s shrine is the home of Lan Zhan’s knees. He worships. There is something of the blasphemous and the unholy in his prayers. He prays not for victory but for the sight of Wei Ying. Bless me with your presence, he begs.

Or, wherein, Lan Zhan bridges the gap between the mortal and the divine—the worshipper and the god—with blood.

the river and the sea by sasamelons / @sasamelons (7K, soulmate au, arranged marriage (wangxian with each other), they're both kind of dumb but i love it)

Lan Wangji gritted his teeth, wishing to just be left alone. "I am looking for my soulmate," he ground out.

"Oh."

It took Lan Wangji a few moments to realize that Wei Wuxian had stopped following him. When he looked back, the other boy seemed to be frozen to the spot, eyes wide and lips still parted. He quickly looked away when he saw Lan Wangji looking back. "I see. Well, have a good trip!"

--

At six years old, Lan Zhan met his soulmate on the streets of Yiling and promptly lost him again.

At sixteen years old, Lan Wangji met his betrothed and was determined not to like him.

[shadoedseptmbr]

fic post

So it’s Shepard’s Birthday, April 11th.  And I wasn’t going to post anything but I had a wild hair this morning and now I’ve got a ficlet!  

2185 Earthside

Commander Alenko was staring down at the package in his hand in confusion when his comms pinged.  “Yeah?”

“Message from the Citadel. Captain Anderson for you, sir.”

*Anderson?*  “Sure, patch him through, Pachi.”  He glanced up at the vid screen, the signal a little scrambled from the dust storm that was raging in the atmosphere above the outpost.  “Afternoon, Captain.  It’s nice to hear from you.”

“Staff Commander!  Kaidan you look good.  I’m sorry I couldn’t get away for your promotion ceremony.”  

“Ah, Thanks. My folks got to be there, again. Mom got to do the honors, so it was...it was good. Captain, do I have you to thank for this?”  He held up a small, beautifully blown bottle of exceedingly expensive whisky.  A Japanese brand that he’d only seen on tasting menus.  

The man’s broad face split in a grin.  “I had it set to let me know when it was delivered.  Hope you don’t mind me presuming.”  

“We’re off on a training maneuver tomorrow, I’m just glad I was here to pick it up.  This is a really nice gesture, sir.” A little confusing.  Anderson had pinned his oakleaves for Lieutenant Commander after the debrief was over, before...before Shepard’s memorial but Kaidan really hadn’t expected him to take much interest in his career, now that...well.  

It had been almost 2 years. 

“Honestly, Alenko, it’s not just for that, though it’s a nice coincidence.  No.  You know what today is, right?”

“Thursday, where I am.  April eleventh, by the old calendar. April...Oh.”  Kaidan stared off.  “It's her birthday.”  There’s a flash of a memory; the uncertain look in wide grey eyes as he handed her a beer from his private stash, a devil may care grin plastered on as she turned back to the crew she’d been sidling away from.  Her fingers lingering on his, just for a second, as she turned. 

Kaidan had to suck in a breath.  

“Yeah.  Forgive an old man, I wanted to share a drink with the one person I figured would care. Missed you last year, you were on mission.” 

He had been. Kaidan frowned, staring down at the bottle.  He could think of a couple of others who’d miss her, too.  But…

“Sir, I’m…” Honored seemed like the wrong word. “I’d like that. Give me a second.”  It’s only two in the afternoon and he’s got preliminary meetings until dark.  But he’ll...figure it out.   He glanced around his quarters and spied the tea he’d just finished when the private had dropped the package off. He tossed the remaining drips out the door and cracked the red wax seal on the bottle.

When he looked back at the screen, Anderson was staring down into a glass highball, a couple fingers of amber liquid clinging to the glass as he turned it slowly in his hand.  Maybe it was the tricky connection, but he looked...tired.

He jostled out of his reverie as soon as Kaidan spoke.  “Ready, sir.”

Anderson held his glass up a few million klicks across the galaxy. “Aedan Shepard.  Damn few like her.  Pain in my ass and a goddamned delight. Kid, I...I think if you were here you’d be kicking our asses for moping.  But, you’re not.  So…” He paused a long second and cleared his throat. “Fair winds and following seas, Commander.”  He clinked the glass against his vid screen and Kaidan did the same. 

 “Aedan Shepard.”  The whiskey was a line of smooth fire down his throat, burning past the knot and...well, he could blame it for the burn in his eyes, too.  He hadn’t had much more than a beer in months.  He hadn’t dreamed of her in...not quite that long.  

They finished their drinks in companionable silence before a ping on Anderson’s end brought it to a close.  Kaidan stared at the bottle after the screen went dark. Still a few drinks left in it.  

Considered.  She really would have kicked his ass for moping when there was work to do.

He popped open his footlocker, pulled out a wool sweater and wrapped the bottle carefully. It was packed down at the bottom before he left his quarters. 

2186 SSV Normandy SR2

“I cannot fucking believe you called me from a fucking warzone for this.  How do you even know what day it is, Boss?”  

Kaidan couldn’t keep the grin from his face at the fond exasperation in her voice from the comm room.  Anderson’s figure flickered in front of her, a mirroring grin splitting his own face.  He chuckled as a mug appeared in his hand from off vid.  “One of my staff celebrated Easter last weekend. Figured it was probably about the right day.”

Aedan glanced back as the glasses in his hand clinked against each other.  “What the...Kaidan…”

 He bussed her on the cheek. “Be still for five minutes and let us have this.”

“You’re both lunatics.”  But she took the glass he handed her and cackled as the spirit hit her nose.  “This cost more than my rifle, didn’t it?”

“Might have.  Enjoy it, because I think mine was made in a boot.” Anderson sniffed it and winced.  “An old boot. With the foot still in it.” He lifted his mug.  “Kid…”

“Oh, god, here we go,” she muttered and Kaidan stepped on her tapping foot.

“Nah.  I’m not gonna make you blush, as fun as it...”  A burst of fire broke not too far away and Anderson shook his head.  “Damn it. Happy birthday, Shepard.  Many more, all right?” He drained off his drink as they did the same.

“Okay.”  An explosion flickered and she scowled, Kaidan could feel tension radiating from her. “You got this?”

“Yeah, kid.  Don’t start worrying about me now, it’ll make me nervous.”  

“Give ‘em hell, Anderson.”  Kaidan lifted his empty glass.  

“Bet on it, Major.”

“We’ll be back, soon.”  Aedan promised as the image flickered out.  “Goddamn it.”  Her knuckles were white as they clenched on the railing around the QEC platform as if she’d have launched herself over it, to get back to him, given a hint that physics wouldn’t stop her.

“Hey.”  Kaidan turned her towards him and set their glasses down.  “He asked me to make sure you had a decent couple of hours if we couldn’t get back to the Citadel for a break.”  

“Kaidan…”

“Nope.  There’s a deck full of crew and a cake the size of your MAKO in the mess.”  

She glanced past him.  The war room was nearly empty and she leaned her head against his chest.  “It’s not the best…”

The frustrated noise he made stopped her. “I promised myself that I would never let you miss this day, again.  If I got the chance.  If we…”  He tipped her chin up.  “It’s a good day for me, the day you came into the world, okay?”

Her expression softened.  “Oh.”  She pressed up to kiss him, gently, before adding, “Uh...you know it’s just a day picked out of a hat, right?  I didn’t have like...a birth certificate or anything.”  

“Maybe so.  But still...cake.”  He kissed the tip of her nose and chuckled when she wrinkled it at the scrape of his stubble.

“And beer, too?” Aedan asked, hope in her voice

“Might be, you’ll have to come find out.”  Her long fingers laced with his reminded him of that fleeting touch. Years ago, now.  That first indication that maybe...maybe she felt something like...Kaidan tightened his hand around hers.

“Just for you, I guess.” She let him lead her down out of the comm room but she glanced back over her shoulder to the glasses on the rail.   

He heard her whisper, “Take care, Boss.”

[star-spangled-bingo]

Star Spangled Flash Bingo

Wohoo this is our first flash bingo and it will run from January 18th to April 18th - we might do another after that depending on the success of this one and how our schedules look by then. Consider this a trial for both you guys and us. 

Let’s get some questions out of the way first: 

Can I sign up for the flash bingo if I haven’t signed up for a full card?

Yes you absolutely can. Just like you can sign up for this one as well as the other. 

Can fill a square from my regular card and one with this one with the same fic?

Yes if you double the acquired wordcount. The same goes for every other media. Just double the minimum and you’re good.  

Will we receive a badge for blacking out a flash card?

You betcha

Can I sign up for more than one flash bingo card?

Afraid not. Not this first time around at least. You have to pick one and commit to it. HOWEVER if you finish long before the flash is over and contact us via ask we might be able to let you sign up for a second flash card ;)

Important Dates for Flash Bingo

Sign Ups: Starts Jan 18th and closes March 18th 2021

Last chance to post a flash fic: April 10th 2021

Last chance to post masterlist and request a badge: April 18th

All blackouts receive a badge and will join our hall of fame under flash bingo participants 2021

General rules for the Bingo is the same as for the main bingo but let’s repeat them shall we:

Purpose of the Bingo

The focus is still the three caps but each card comes with a few challenges on its own. Scroll down to find a link to the cards and the rules for each. 

All Bingo cards are SFW as a rule but that doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed to write smut if you are over the age of 18. We just want to give every writer a chance to participate no matter if they write smut or not (hey that rhymed). 

Restrictions

- No abusive ships are allowed. Some ships like Winteriron can be abusive if you focus on the negative but can also be based on healing, therefore they are a grey zone and fall under think about what you write, if you chose a pairing such as that one. Shipping Bucky with Rumlow will always be abusive and as a rule no villains shipped with heroes allowed. (Loki might be an exception cause he is a grey character, just think before you write with him too).

-No pairing an adult with an underage character. No aging up or down. This goes for side pairings as well so no Starker!

- No incest - that goes for Thorki as a sidepairing as well. Adopted or not they grew up as brothers.

- No non/dub con are allowed either. 

- You can’t write smut if you are under the age of 18. If we catch you doing so you will be blocked from the bingo page and banned for participating.

- You can’t write smut if you are under 18. Everyone can write fluff, angst, crack, etc.

Formats and requirements

- Fics must state what square you fill, warnings, word count and pairing - if no pairing just write general (check the format page for ideas on how to format your post)

- Social Media AUs, Aesthetics, Edits, Fanart, Fanvids, podfics must have square filled, pairing and if needed warnings. 

- Everything you post as a fill must be original and new content - or if you read someone’s fic as a podfic explicit consent from the author must have been given and they have to be credited on your post. 

- Fics must have a minimum of 250 words - fics over 500 must have a keep reading to be reblogged. 

- Use common sense for when posting artworks into long posts. They might need a cut too.

- Aesthetics have a 4 picture minimum and preferably accompanied by a 100-word description or drabble - words are not a must

- Gifsets has a 6 picture minimum.

- One piece of fanart in form of a drawing by hand or a computer program is considered a fill. 

- Social media Aus must be a min of 6 pictures. 

- Podfics must be a min of 3 min.

- Fanvids must be a min of 30 sec. 

- All content can be added via link not to an original Tumblr post if you so choose as long as there is a Tumblr post with the format requirements we can reblog and the Tumblr post must be linked too on the masterlist you create when your card is filled. 

- IF WE FORGOT YOUR TYPE OF ARTWORK SEND US AN ASK AND WE MIGHT BE ABLE TO WORK SOMETHING OUT - we are pretty open to all types of creative outlets but it’s hard to put restrictions of stuff we don’t know or know very little about.

- One square per fic/artwork. If you write a series each chapter can be considered a fill or the entire series can be a fill if you so choose. No combining squares within the bingo.

- You are free to combine our bingo with another bingo with no additional requirements added from our end. Just make sure you follow the other bingos rules too. 

- If you combine with our main bingo though we ask you double the minimum requirement of your chosen media for it to count as a fill for both. Otherwise we will ask you to choose. 

- Warn accordingly. If warnings are spoilers put them in the tags and tell people to check your tags for additional warnings on the post.

- You don’t have to use the same media for the entire card. You can have 3 fics and 1 vid and the rest fics fx.

- Tag us @star-spangled-bingo and make clear the fic is for SSB SPRING FLASH 2021 and use the #SSB Spring Flash2021 on each square you fill.

Sanctions for breaking the rules

- If your post lacks a keep reading we won’t reblog it but it will still count as a fill.

- If you don’t tag us we can’t reblog you and if you don’t say it’s for SSB2020 in your header we won’t count it as a fill until you edited it into the post. This seems strict but we got 2019 floating and it is impossible to know which card what is for if you don’t mark it down for us. 

- If your fill fail to meet the minimum requirements your fill will be reblogged but won’t count as a fill unless you add to it to meet the minimum. 

- If your post doesn’t clearly show square filled, we won’t reblog it and it won’t count as a fill until you edited it in. 

- If we discover you write smut and are under 18 - you will be blocked from the bingo blog and banned from participating in the bingo in the future even when you reach the age of 18. 

- If you break this rule: No abusive ships are allowed. No pairing an adult with an underage character. No aging up or down. No incest and no glorification of non/dub con are allowed either. All of these go for side pairing also so no Thorki and Starker. Your post won’t count as a fill, nor will it be reblogged. You’ll get a reminder of our rules the first time you break it and the second you will be banned from the bingo.

Find the Flash Cards and the rules that are specific to them here!

Find the format requirements here!

Sign Up for a Flash Card Here!

Best of luck and have fun!

Kari, Erin, Jules and Becki

[shannygoatgruff]

Only Fan(s) - A Thriller

Genre: Thriller

Pairing: Modern Ivar/OC

Warning: Language, sex, stalking, obsession, kidnapping, sexual assault

Rating: MA+18

Summary: Sometimes OnlyFans subscribers want a little more than internet pictures. Sometimes they want to be your ONLY fan...

Header by: @flowers-in-your-hayr​

Thanks to @xbellaxcarolinax​ for being my beta.

Disclaimer: This story will deal with some topics that might be a little uncomfortable for some people. As always, I’ll try to tackle the hard stuff as tactfully as possible.

A/N: This is a fic I started 10-years ago for another fandom. I never finished it, but I loved the concept. I have an idea of what I want to do with it - hopefully, I’ll finish it this time around.

Part i - Train Wreck 

It had taken forever to get the subwoofer out of the Challenger's trunk without damaging the cords. However, it was done with such skill and precision, it appeared a surgeon had removed it. The tricky part had been hooking the stereo back up to the factory-installed speakers after the subwoofer had been removed, and making everything look nice and neat, so the car’s owner wouldn’t be aware.

It had taken longer than usual, but it was well worth it. Whoever installed this particular unit, did a really good job. They were so meticulous with their installation, right down to the intricate wiring system – not that straight out the box shit that comes with aftermarket speaker setups. It had proven to be a tedious job, but not impossible.

No matter how daunting the task of removing the subwoofer had been, it wasn’t half as difficult as hooking it up to the old iPod without the benefit of a stereo. It had been a painstakingly slow process. One wrong splice of the cord and the mp4 player would short out. But tenacity always paid off. The result looked raggedy, with cords kept in place with electrical tape, the iPod balanced on its side, held in place between two books, and a huge metal subwoofer vibrating next to it. It was ugly, but it worked.

The volume on the iPod was cranked up to the highest level. It was so loud that the walls shook with each kick of the bass drum. There was no reason to ever use a speaker that powerful in a room this size, but the song demanded it. All good music demanded to be blasted at the highest of decibels; this song in particular. It had been playing on repeat for the past hour. One song. One constant beat. One melody, and one voice screeching over that amazing guitar riff. Listening to it on anything lower than the max was the true definition of insanity.

The people staying in the room next door disagreed because they had already done everything to get her to turn it down. They had yelled, banged on the walls, kicked her door, and even called the manager. It didn't matter. The fucking neighbors could eat a dick. Even if they called the National Guard the volume wasn’t changing. This song wasn't "noise", it was destined to be a fucking classic – in her room, if nowhere else. If it was possible to play the song any louder, she would have.

These fuckstick neighbors. They were the only ones that didn't understand how places like this worked. The rule was, there were no rules – that was the beauty of it. That's why this particular room was the best choice. It was on the second floor, around the back facing the alley instead of the highway. There was nothing else on this side of the building except the five rooms on this level, garbage dumpsters, the on ramp, and a peeling billboard. What in the hell were they expecting? If one picked a shit motel, with a shit room that offered no view, why would they think it would be quiet?

Anyone could stay in a two or three-star hotel. But, a bed-bug infested No Tell-Motel? People stayed here because they wanted to get away with whatever dirt they were trying to do. That's why these places charge by the hour and not by the night. Most people wouldn't even want to stay for the entire night. Dirt didn't take that much time to commit. For the most part, the only people who stayed in places like this only needed the space for about 20 minutes…a few hours tops, if they had a lot of stamina. It was don't ask, don't tell…don't listen, don't knock. These assholes should know that. 

Annoying ass neighbors aside, the room was comfortable. The thick smell of stale cigarette smoke clung to the air was reminiscent of home. The smoky air coupled with a heavy bassline made it feel like a rock video. The only problem with the room was that it was hotter than a crack whore's crotch.

The air-conditioning unit in the sole window did little more than blow the smoke rings further around the room. It provided a nice buzzing sound that served as background noise and as a reverb for the music. There was also a burning smell that came from the window-unit being cranked up to full blast. It had been a little hard to get used to, at first, but two packs of cigarettes later, it was no longer noticeable.

The roaches sure didn't seem to appreciate the extra heat in the room. They constantly ran in and out of the vents of the air-conditioner like they were trying to find a cooler climate. Or maybe they were just hungry. The box of half-eaten pizza on the dinette table not only provided a suitable temporary home but also a hardy meal. They gathered there, grabbing their lunchtime snacks before running off to other wall cracks to share in a meal with their friends and family.

Most people would have found the place a disgusting, germ-infested, death trap. But, Torren wasn't most people. She didn't seem to notice anything in particular about her living conditions. She had other things to focus on. She had already paid for this week, and next, so what did she care? The place had all of the essentials; electricity, toilet, running water, a bed, and a TV.

Granted, the electricity was spotty, to the point that she couldn't have her flatiron and blow dryer plugged in at the same time. The toilet was so soiled that it still hadn't been determined if there were rust stains in it, or if it just had never been cleaned…ever. The water ran brown when it rained and a cloudy gray the rest of the time. It didn't get hot either, but it did get tepid if she let it run for 10 minutes, but not hot. Not hot enough to sanitize your hands, or to take a bath in.

But, it was already hot in the room, so a cold shower wasn't so bad. Besides, the tub was indescribable. If someone told her that a family of six had been murdered, and dismembered in that tub, she wouldn't be surprised. It just had that horror movie slaughter look, and the stains to prove it.

The bed was hard and lumpy and judging from the DNA left behind from past guests and holes in the sheets, they probably hadn't ever been changed. The TV was small, but at least it was in color. Hell, the room even came with its own pets, and it was only $50 for the week! There truly wasn't anything to complain about.

Torren Sykes sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed, surrounded by ripped out, stolen magazine pages and color copies of photos she’d downloaded and printed at the library. She rocked her head and shoulders in a slow sway to the beat of the song playing. Haphazardly she flipped through the pages until she found a suitable picture and smiled. Picking up the scissors, she licked her lips slowly and ferried her brow, as she started the task of cutting it out.

"Goddammit!" She yelled before slamming the paper down on the bed. Stomping angrily toward the door, she pulled it open and narrowed her eyes at the man standing there. "I swear, if you knock on this door again, I'm gonna slit your fucking throat," she cringed, narrowing her eyes and pointing the shears at the man's neck.

The motel manager was taken by surprise at the half-naked woman holding shears to his neck. Standing before him was a beautiful brunette, with dark features. She had a creamy, light coffee-colored complexion – these days it was hard to judge a person’s ethnic makeup, but if he had to venture a guess, he’d think she was bi-racial. She had perfectly shaped large, almond, brown eyes that gave off nothing but a vacant stare, and a heart-shaped face. The soft dimple in her chin, and the one just at the curve of her mouth, gave her an almost angelic look. She was considerably shorter than him, about 5'5", and well built.

She wouldn't have been considered thin; she was far too curvy for that – the term slim thick instantly sprang to mind. She had thick thighs, extremely pronounced hips, and presumably a large ass. Yet, her waist was small, and her stomach flat, and big breasts. Not too big, where one would sprain their thumb trying to hold them, but they were big enough to keep any man occupied.

The manager wondered if she had some work done to get a body like that. It wasn’t uncommon for women around her to have a little nip, tuck, and a whole lot added to try to look like a vid-hoe, these days.

She was wearing the smallest pair of underwear he'd ever seen. And what was the purpose of wearing a cut off top that stopped just under her nipples? She might as well not be wearing a shirt at all. He could see the curve of the lower half of her breasts because the shirt failed to cover the lower half of her chest. If she raised her arm any higher he would have gotten a full-on nip-slip.

She glistened with a fine sheen of sweat all over her body; her long hair clung to her cheeks and neck, with it. It was almost like her hair was beating as quickly as her pulse was. He could feel the rush of heat come out of the room, as soon as she opened the door. It was like she had just opened the door to an oven. She was hot and sweaty, yet she still wore long tube socks that came up to her knees.

If she hadn't been assaulting him with a deadly weapon, it would have looked like something he’d recently seen on Porn Hub.

He had been so taken aback that he couldn't think of anything to say to her. Instead, he took a step backward and watched as she slammed the door. The entire encounter took about 5 seconds. Long enough for her to open the door, threaten him, and slam it again in his face. He wasn't sure what he was more surprised by, how she answered the door almost naked, the temperature of her room, the level of her music, the anger in her voice, or the scissors that had been pointed just inches below his throat. The whole scene was just wrong and it scared him.

In the 20 seconds that he continued to stand in front of the closed room door, he thought about what scared him the most. It was the look in her eyes. Those beautiful almond-shaped eyes were intense. They were concentrated. They had absently stared right through him. Something about those eyes wasn't right. Had she even seen him? He would never admit it, but he hoped like hell that she hadn't. He hoped that she didn't remember what he looked like. He didn't want any trouble, and he could tell that she definitely was.

Stomping her way back to her bed, Torren resumed her aforementioned position, picked up the copied photo, and started to sway to the music again. She smiled a little taking a second to run her fingers over the image on the page before she resumed cutting. Scraps of paper fell to the bed and the floor, some even stuck to her sweaty legs.

She clutched the cut-out to her chest, before falling back on the bed. Settling on her back, she held the picture up to the light. With tenderness, she brought the piece of paper down to her lips. She kissed it...him, with such passion, before sticking her tongue out of her mouth, and letting it rest on the computer paper - where his lips were, her wet tongue instantly wetting the page and smearing the ink. Planting her feet on the bed, she lifted her waist from the mattress and started to thrust upward with the beat of the song.

Seductively, she flipped over on all fours, laying the picture down on the pillows. She whipped her hair around her head, before letting it hang over her shoulder. She scooped her neck down and began kissing the picture again. As she did, she started to grind her hips hard against the balled up blankets.

She let one hand travel down her torso, toward her panties and smirked at the picture as she did. She braced herself on her left knee and elbow, before lifting her right leg out, then up. Roughly, she took her fingers and plunged them deep inside of herself. She bit her bottom lip, hard; she could taste the coppery blood on her tongue, and when she leaned down to kiss the picture again, she managed to get a nice bloody lip print on it. She twirled her hips and moaned loudly as she pleasured herself. Her eyes never left the picture. She removed her fingers, only to trace the dampness on the image before placing them in her mouth. Her taste was incredible. It always turned her on.

She had to have him. She needed him.

She flipped over on the bed, this time grabbing a magazine cover she had torn off from one of the stacks she found in the library. This one had him on the cover.

With a sense of urgency, she smoothed the waxy page down her body, before stuffing the picture along with her hand inside her panties. She closed her eyes. She felt his tongue running over her; she felt his fingers inside of her. The pillow next to her, the one covered in taped photos of him was now on top of her to simulate his body on hers, as her hand and the magazine continued to work. She couldn't get enough of him. She would never get enough of him.

In the middle of a mind-blowing orgasm, that happened to coincide with the best guitar solo ever created, blasting from the speaker, she managed to yell one word, "IVAR!" Then she flopped back on the bed in hysterical laughter.

She straightened out the magazine cover and picked up her bloody cut-out from the pillow.

Wordlessly, she stuck them both to the wall with her juices; amongst the 50 other printouts of him that hung just over her headboard. After giving him another kiss, she finally turned down the volume on her makeshift stereo, picked up a piece of pizza from the box, shook it off, then headed into the bathroom for a cold shower.

Part ii

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[same-side]

I just finished DBH and Im seriously so in love with it! But when I came on Tumblr, all I could find is all this content around Gavin, and Im just so confused, because he seemed like such a jerk in the game. Why are people so into Gavin? Did I miss something?

Hi there!

First off, allow me to welcome you to the fandom!

In regards to Gavin: you literally did not miss anything; he is absolutely a one dimensional jerk in game!

Its important we make a distinction here between fanon Gavin and canon Gavin. You’ll find the fandom is incredibly divided - a lot of people adore him, a lot of people hate him. The reason for disliking him is understandable, of course - there’s a slew of incredible and well rounded characters in dbh (North, Luther, Kara…) that are swept under the rug in favour of a veritable avalanche of content for rat man reed. He has 14 minutes of screen time in which literally all he does is antagonize and threaten the player. But people have to understand, when someone says they love Gavin, they mean fanon Gavin. I don’t think theres a single person that is actually a canon Gavin stan. 

Keeping that in mind, you also have to take into account the drop off - at this point, the only people still left/creating content in the fandom are generally the ones that are balls deep and clinging to the headcanons, au’s, etc. that they’ve built with friends. This applies heavily to Gavin for reasons discussed below. Additionally, the algorithms for sites like tumblr and instagram won’t recommend old posts; old posts don’t show up in tags. Artists with a lot of clout that have since moved on from the fandom’s work have basically disappeared into the void (rebelflet, for example). So it may seem like there’s only content of Gavin / Gavin ships, but in reality there’s a ton of jericrew and Kara crew out there from when the fandom was still new / bigger - you just have to know where to look.

So… why do people like Gavin… I mean, it helps that canonically he has beefy tiddies, a cool bad boy jacket, and a pretty face at certain angles.

That being said, I think one of the biggest reasons Gavin (and RK900, by extension) are so popular is that they aren’t well rounded, fleshed out characters. Because we don’t really know anything about them and they have minimal screen time, they’re easy to project on or to add onto, and no one can tell you that you’re wrong because there’s no evidence against it. It’s almost like a universally shared OC that the fandom has developed together. Since they have no canon backstory, and in rk900’s case, no canon personality, it allows for a lot of creative freedom and the ability to explore character interactions, foils, and growth within the dbh universe. The growth aspect, I think, in conjunction with the projection aspect, is key point for the popularity. It tends to be fairly formulaic. Take the canonical asshole Gavin, stick him with an android - whether its RK900 as his partner or Connor as a coworker. Have him come to care for the RK model, and deal with his own insecurities (and usually a traumatic past, the flavor of which might depend on the creator’s own life struggles). Repent, redeem, grow. This redemption arc is the same exact vein of growth and change that makes Hank and Connor such an appealing partnership for players as well - only, in Gavin’s case, it allows for complete freedom in how to get from point a to point b. People like a character they can relate to - and when you can smack your own possible trauma (being an illegitimate child, having an abusive lover, abusive parents, abandonment fears, body insecurity, whatever it may be) on a character because they’re a blank slate, you relate to them and vent through them. Even little “silly” projections or projections that aren’t necessarily traumatic can make someone love a character even more - for example, “Gavin loves Hello Kitty,” “Gavin can’t handle spicy food,” “Gavin is Latino.” Even when the creator isn’t projecting, adding these kinds of headcanons make him a fleshed out, three dimensional character that people can relate to or empathize with, especially when giving his actions an explanation besides just fear of losing his job.

I came into the dbh fandom a little late; by the time I knew what it was, the hype had died down and reed900 was already a firmly cemented, heavily present part of the content. Given that, I’m not sure what its exact origins were, or if it seemingly popped up overnight. It could have been crack. My best guess is that people saw the positive change between Hank and Connor, and thought, “Hey, wouldn’t it be rad if we stuck the other Connor with the other dysfunctional DPD bastard?” . I admit, it makes a nice parallel, which may be part of the appeal in additional to the previous reasons. Speaking of those kinds of interpersonal relationships, there’s also a popular headcanon (that’s been mentioned/liked by d*vid c*ge himself) that Kamski and Gavin are siblings/half siblings/cousins. This stems from the fact that Kamski and Gavin are both mo-capped/voiced by the same actor. By taking this headcanon into account, it adds depth to Gavin’s hatred of androids and allows for interesting backstory exploration, growth, and reconciliation.

Another reason is the enemies-to-lovers trope. For a lot of people that trope really jimmies their neutrons, and what could be better than an android hater and an android to fit that cliche? Once again, analogous to hankcon. The angst potential is also incredible when you take convin or hankvin into account instead of reed900 - reading into Hank and Gavin’s interactions it would seem there’s a tumultuous past between them. And in Connor’s case, Gavin can actually kill him or he can KO Gavin, which allows for a good deal of enemies-to-lovers and angsty regret material. Besides, a lot of people are really into hate s*x.

That…. makes a good segway. I may as well mention the elephant in the room for Gavin’s popularity. There’s a culture of fetishizing abuse in fandoms and Gavin is a prime target for this because “”he’s asking for it.”” It’s also easy to make one character a psychopath when they don’t even have a canon personality. This shows up a lot, whether because of writers treating it as a kink in fanfic or artists using it as a gag because its “funny”. I… won’t really go into detail on this, but it is a phenomenon that adds to the slew of Gavin content. This is another reason for why a lot of people hate Gavin / hate reed900. I started out feeling this way as well. Their perception of it is coloured by the abusive stuff or the mishandled stuff that seems to be prominent. I just have to say that this blog is a safe, sane, and consensual zone.

Sorry, that was a really long breakdown but I hope that gives some insight into the Gavin phenomenon. Last point. He winks like a dumbass. How can you not love that face.

[throwing-summers-at-the-walls]

Hello half valid anon here (i like my nickname 😂). I got through all your fics and they were all great. Right now im just reading a lot of poi fanfics and watch fanvids cause i can't accept that the series is over 😂 --- i know what you mean about fics affecting you negatively. I had this with 13rw (the Show and some fics) everything was so dark and hopeless that i had to stop watching it. I also love to seek out fics where someone is hurt so i can feel my pain through the characters (1)

But i try to read only fics with lots of comfort so it kinda feels like i get comforted as well (dont know if that makes sense). If it makes you uncomfortable or if its unhealthy for you to write about this i completely understand and i dont mean to come of as pushing you to write. I just hope whatever you do will be the right decision for you! As for you feeling suicidal im sorry to hear that. Let me know if there is ever anything i can do to help! I wish i could say sth more comforting but Im not super good with words :( i just hope you have people in your life that support you! 💛

maybe root will grow on you too? Or maybe you can skip her scenes and enjoy John, Harold and most importanly Bear! 😂 Yeah Shaw definately looks really good. She is a bit like Reese minus the caring. At first it seems she doesnt care about anything at all but thats not exactly the Case. There was an episode with Shaw and a little girl (3x5) and i really loved it (have you seen that one?).

I really think Shaw would grow on you (especially since in the beginning she does a lot with John) but then again a lot of her later scenes include Root so im not sure. Yes i love that there were never any romantic undertones with her and John!!

yeah the core four were great. I was so sad when Carter died! :(

i guess everyone sees chemistry different, i think Shoot and Rinch post have great chemistry ☺️

as for John being good with people: YES!! he is always so compassionate and such a great listener as well. I especially like him with children. John and the baby were so cute or John with the boy who offered to pay for him. John + Kids was always a great combination and i wished we would have seen it more often. Also regarding children we did we never got to see a John Taylor scene after Carters death? I needed that!

yes John the badass is also amazing! His character has so many different sides and i love him so much!!

i think Grace Harold was really cute but i dont really see a future for them, i mean he lied to her for so long! but then again they really loved each other so idk maybe they work it out. Im also not into John/Harold/Grace but like you said good for the people who like the ship :)

John and Zoe were great! i wish Zoe would have appeared more often!

I have so many things to say about John and the boring therapist but i think i better not say them :D i wish i could just erase their relationship from my mind!

of course he didnt die! i didnt see a dead body so i refuse to believe he is dead! i also just wanted them to be happy. what kind of an ending is it to let the main character die? i refuse to accept this! -- thank you for the rec i will check it out :) while i do like fluff i mostly read h/c (with the focus on the comfort) cause i just want John to get his much needed comfort :D -- i have no idea where season 1 is supposed to be boring. but idc the people can live with their wrong opinions :D

(today: tumblr user nourann3 discovers the option to indent text after almost 5 years on tumblr...)

Hiii !! It is a very valid nickname 😂 That's nice !! Hmu if you want more recs ! Lol same honestly, I can't believe it's been 4 years since the show ended ! I can give you a link to my poi/Rinch fanvids playlist if you're interested 👀

Oh boi 13rw is so cursed, can't believe I watched all of the 1st season 😬 I remember being afraid of the suicide scene making me uncomfortable but it was so cringe, unrealistic and just bad that I wasn't even that uncomfortable, I cringed when she cut her arms but that's it.

Yeah big mood I project a lot on comfort fics as well. For suicide fics, I think it also depends on how the fics adress the subject. It's something that is complicated to write. If I read a suicide fic with no recovery I'm gonna project but feel like shit. But with recovery, I can project into the recovery as well so it's better ! I read a really good ace attorney fic showing Miles recovering after a suicide attempt, it was thoughtful and didn't fall into the pitfalls of magical super fast recovery/love heals everything, and some lines stuck with me, it was really good and comforting. But yeah if it's just a suicide/suicide attempt then I don't think it's good for me (but sometimes I still read it bc I'm a Dumb Bitch).

Dw you didn't come off as pushing 💜 I'll see how I feel about continuing it or not. I have to figure out if writing about suicide is positive or negative for me 🤔 I mean I'm not portraying John's suicidal crisis as a positive thing, and he reaches out to Harold, and considers he might get better so I don't think it's bad for me ? Another problem is that I have a tendency to drop my wips to write a new shiny idea I get, and then I never finish anything gkgkffjfjf I dropped the suicide fic for the body horror fic which I dropped for the time loop fic, and there's also the hanahaki fic I started last year but I haven't touched in months, plus a bunch of random shit floating around OneDrive lmao someone stop me

What helps the most is venting, just getting that shit out is helping y'know. I appreciate your support ♥️ at least it's not as bad as it used to be

I doubt Root will grow on me, catch me watching her scenes at 1.5 speed lmao, also yes you bet I'll enjoy watching them !!

Yes I remember that ep ! Iirc the little girl tells Shaw she has feelings but the volume is lower than in other people or smth along those lines ?

I hope she'll grow on me bc she seems cool. I remember I was a bit afraid of her just becoming a sort of hollow copy of John, like "look we added another badass to the show". Seems to be more than that though ! Also I'm curious about their mayhem twins dynamic. But yeah if she has a lot of scenes with Root idk how much it'll annoy me

I feel like I wouldn't be able to get the Shoot chemistry bc I'm too biased against Root lol

Ikr the crossing hurt me so much. But thinking about it takes me back to my careese days and my first fics lol. I feel like the death of one of the core four + the abandonment of the library really alienated me from the show (did I already say that before ?). And here I'm gonna shamelessly derail from Carter to the library bc boiii do I have a lot of feelings about the library !! And you're here, talking about poi, so you're the perfect subject to throw these feelings at. This post really says what I feel about it (I'll put the link at the end as well if you wanna read it after you're done with this l o n g reply). It was in a way its own character and its forced abandonment/destruction really hit me (fucked me up when they broke that glass board). It says something that it's one of the few things I remember from S3 along with Carter's death and 4C. I loved it a lot, it was a cornerstone of the show. It was a safe place, a home for Harold and John (and Bear !). I love when they're together in there, I love this cracked glass board, this yellow stained glass in the windows !!! (at least I assume it's stained glass ?), these lights, Bear's cushion, the whole cozy/safe/isolated feelings, just absolutely everything. And yeah later they have the subway, idk when it's introduced I don't remember if it's early enough for me to have watched it. And maybe it's nice, I can't judge rn. But it's like trying to give me a new MC after a MCD, make him as nice as you want I'll be clutching the previous MC until I die. Gkfkfkff I went overboard and off topic but I just love the library ok

Ikr I love how he's badass but also gentle and understanding and nice to people ! I love him !!! Yeah wolf and cub is really good, also I love when John smiles to Darren at the end !! I use this moment as my pfp bc I love it so much. He's just so cute ! I wish he smiled more (did we ever hear him laugh in the entirety of the show ?). Baby blue is so great, Harold and him are such a married couple in this ep ! Yeah same more content with John and children would have been nice.

I never thought about how much we needed a John Taylor scene but yes !! We were robbed :((((

Speaking of John being a cool badass. Here's a badass John vid rec it's super good

Yeah they were cute in the past. I think it's good he went back to her bc it gives closure to both of them. But I don't see their relationship working again. She grieved, probably started to move on after all these years and knowing he lied all this time probably won't make her want to go back with him. I've never been in love so what do I know lol, but were I her I probably wouldn't want to go back with him and I'd just be happy knowing he's alive after all.

Same I need more Zoe (also she's hot)

Lmao let's just forget about that weird relationship shall we

Aren't we all the same, firmly believing he's alive and happy out there ! It was foreshadowed since the first ep and it made sense but do I care ? No, fuck that shit John is very much alive

You're welcome ! John needs all the comfort and the love !!! I think I have a preference for fluff bc he gets hurt enough in the show lol

Indeed they can, veryyy far away from us

Sry if this is shit I have like half a functioning braincell today

The post abt home bases I mentioned

[queenmorgawse]

loving you is my gift tonight

missgoneril : there’s so much going on in that pic i don’t even know where to start fearthedeer : you gotta be more specific. is it dima? his parents in a two-person sweater?? the piglet in a fluffy hat they put on the armchair??? missgoneril : i missgoneril : the holy kingdom of faerghus has actually been on crack this whole time, in this essay i will -

or, some good old-fashioned holidays fluff ft. dimiclaude in modern fodlan.

READ ON AO3.

The envelope arrives a week or so before Saint Cichol’s Day. It’s made of creamy, off-white paper and sealed with an actual wax seal bearing the griffin knight of Faerghus, because royals apparently have to be extra even with something as mundane as sending holiday cards.

It’s actually addressed to Claude’s mother ( President Juliette von Riegan, the envelope reads in elegant, swirling script), but as First Son of the Leicester Alliance, Claude considers himself plenty qualified to snatch it up from the pile of holidays-related mail and whisk it off to his room.

He flops down onto his bed before breaking open the seal. The card inside is just as fancy as the exterior, done up in dark blue and silver highlights, and it’s the funniest thing Claude’s seen all week.

Now, the Faerghan royal family has been sending Saint Cichol’s cards to the von Riegans since the beginning of his mother’s presidency, so this is nothing out of the ordinary. It also doesn’t say anything special, besides Merry Saint Cichol’s day & best wishes from House Blaiddyd in embossed letters.

What is new, however, is that this time, it doesn’t have  one of the Blaiddyds’ formal state portraits front and center. Sure enough, King Lambert and Queen Patricia are posing, flashing toothpaste-ad-worthy smiles at the camera, but there the resemblance comes to a brutal stop.

The photo features Dimitri, clad in possibly the gaudiest holiday sweater Claude’s ever seen. As per ugly sweater tradition, it sports an unholy amount of red and green, but nothing can dethrone the roaring lion’s head emblazoned over Dimitri’s torso, myriads of multicolored lights haphazardly sewn into its mane.

And he still manages to look like Prince Charming straight out of a collector’s edition of Fódlan’s Fables, because Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd is unfairly photogenic like that.

Seiros, life is unfair. Or maybe it isn't, because it’s given him a boyfriend who miraculously still looks good while looking like he’s been hit and run over by a garlands-filled truck.

Because he’s the most loyal best friend anyone could ask for, Claude sits up, holds the card to the lamp on his bedside table, snaps a picture and sends it to Hilda. Her reply is almost instantaneous.

missgoneril : there’s so much going on in that pic i don’t even know where to start

fearthedeer : you gotta be more specific. is it dima? his parents in a two-person sweater?? the piglet in a fluffy hat they put on the armchair???

missgoneril : i

missgoneril : the holy kingdom of faerghus has actually been on crack this whole time, in this essay i will -

fearthedeer : LMAO

fearthedeer : fr tho i think it’s sweet

missgoneril : you have them rose-tinted glasses ON i see

fearthedeer : bold words coming from miss hilda ‘do you think dimitri’s hot blonde bodyguard will text me back?’ goneril

You can no longer send direct messages to this person.

Claude snorts and taps out of the conversation. Not a week goes by that Hilda doesn’t block him at least once. Whatever the reason - from posting their kindergarten playdates pictures on the Golden Deer group chat to that time he jokingly hit on her brother -, she always ends up unblocking him within the hour.

In the meantime, there’s someone else he wants to talk to. Claude flips to the second topmost conversation on his phone, lays back and starts typing.

fearthedeer : on ur way to light up all of fhirdiad by urself i see

hrhdima : I take it you’ve received our holidays well-wishes.

fearthedeer : it’s the BEST how did you not tell me about this before

hrhdima : Mother and Father wanted a ‘fun’ photo to go with our usual ones. I didn’t know they would actually use it for anything official.

fearthedeer : give whoever made that decision a raise bc they just made my entire week

hrhdima : You don’t think it’s silly?

fearthedeer : well.

fearthedeer : yes i do

fearthedeer : it’s definitely dorky

fearthedeer : but since it has you in it it’s dorky cute

fearthedeer : why are u not saying anything

fearthedeer : i told u u gotta learn to accept a compliment!!

hrhdima : Thank you, my dear. I had to take a few moments to compose myself.

fearthedeer : SEIROS

fearthedeer : HOW ARE YOU SO FUCKING ADORABLE 😭

hrhdima : 😳😳

fearthedeer : if i were here you BET i’d be kissing your cheeks

fearthedeer : but alas, the day’s just started for ur local first son

hrhdima : What’s the first thing on the list?

fearthedeer : visiting a kids’ hospital i’m pretty sure! hilda and i have some Clownery planned so i sure hope they’ll laugh

hrhdima : I’m sure they will. If you end up filming, I’d love to see it.

fearthedeer : eager to see me embarrass myself huh

hrhdima : Claude! Of course not!

fearthedeer : flames, i was kidding!! of course i’ll send u the vid!

hrhdima : Oh.

hrhdima : Good luck with...the clownery?

fearthedeer : thanks, good luck with what you have to do too <3

hrhdima : Thank you. Speaking of which, can I call you later? Ingrid’s banging down my door about the holidays address right now.

fearthedeer : sure!! have fun at rehearsal, romance that sweet sweet mic for me 😘😘

hrhdima : Claude, please.

fearthedeer : u love me

hrhdima : I do.

hrhdima : I wish we could see each other more, especially at this time of the year. I miss you a great deal.

fearthedeer : wtf you can’t just say stuff like that

hrhdima : We’re quite literally dating.

fearthedeer : STILL

fearthedeer : anyway don’t you worry your pretty royal head over it

fearthedeer : it’s time for a secret scheme >:)

hrhdima : Claude. What does this mean.

fearthedeer : ;)

hrhdima has sent a vocal message.

Hi Claude, this is Ingrid. Sorry for interrupting you guys, but Dimitri has an address to practice, so I had to take his phone away for the time being. Will give it back when he’s done. Say hello to Hilda for me!

fearthedeer : dedue wouldn’t do this to me

---

missgoneril : SWEET BABY SEIROS SHE SAID WHAT

---

“...And with that, my dear citizens, all that's left for me to do is wish you a Merry Saint Cichol's day. Hold your loved ones close, so that they might share the holidays' cheers with you. I know I will.”

Dimitri flashes the camera another bright smile before the operator signals to him that they're done filming. From the treshold, Sylvain gives him a thumbs-up, and Dedue an approving nod. Only then does Dimitri allow himself to relax, shoulders slumping ever so slightly.

It isn't the address that bothers him, nor the ever-present fear of slipping up in front of millions of Faerghus citizens on live television. He's been groomed in protocol for public appearances, virtual or not, since he was old enough to walk. No, it's the creeping realization that, year after year, he gives a little more time to the people, and keeps a little less to himself.

It's selfish, which is precisely why Dimitri's only vaguely mentioned it even to his closest friends. They'd whisk him off to some holiday destination at the speed of light if he asked, he knows, but it doesn't feel right to shirk his duties — even though Sylvain wouldn't call it shirking, only giving himself a well-deserved break.

After a few minutes of idle chatter with the camera crew - Dimitri's made it a habit to try and get to know everyone he works with, to the point he can now ask after some of the operators' children by name -, he finally steps out of the royal office requisitioned for the occasion. When he idly checks his phone, the screen flashes with half a dozen notifications : a picture of Felix and Ingrid on St Cichol's shopping (presumably for Glenn), some last minute recommendations from both his father and Duke Fraldarius, and…

fearthedeer : hey hey hey

fearthedeer : dima

fearthedeer : u should go get some fresh air 😜

fearthedeer : (front gate. hurry!!!)

fearthedeer : i see u typing. why don’t u walk faster instead

Dimitri picks up the pace, until he’s almost flying past the castle’s front gates and into the main courtyard. At first, nothing seems more out of the ordinary : the gatekeepers even shoot him perplexed looks as their crown prince stares out, half disheveled, at the snow-covered cobblestones.

Then a nondescript black cab pulls up, somehow unbothered by security checks, and everything suddenly pieces itself together.

Dimitri’s down the staircase before anyone can stop him, right as the cab’s door open and a silhouette clad in a vibrant yellow sweater steps out. Claude’s barely finished handing the driver a tip when Dimitri comes to a brutal stop just a few steps from him, heart beating wildly against his ribcage.

They exchange pictures pretty much everyday, but there’s an inherent brilliance to Claude a screen can’t capture. It’s something, Dimitri thinks, in the way his smile blooms first over his lips then reaches all the way to his eyes. Every time, it’s like watching the sun rise.

Claude opens his arms. Wordlessly, Dimitri lets himself be drawn into his embrace, curls around him and breathes in the fresh scent of pine needles.

Eventually, he finds it in himself to step back. His hands stay firmly planted on Claude’s shoulders, grounding himself in the other’s presence. “It really is you.”

Claude grins and tips an imaginary hat at him. “The one and only.”

“Flames, I—” Dimitri takes a deep breath in an attempt to compose himself. “How...when did you get here?”

“On a plane this morning. And before you ask, it wasn't on taxpayers' money,” Claude quips.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m delighted to see you, but why now?” Dimitri’s brain frantically cycles through their relationship milestones. Their anniversary’s in early summer, and Claude’s birthday isn’t for another few months, and⎯

Claude gently takes his face into his hands, tiptoeing a little to rest their foreheads together, and Dimitri’s mind comes to a standstill.

“Hey, calm down, okay? You’re overthinking everything again.” Claude pauses, breathes in, breathes out. “Would you believe me if I said I’m a little late for your birthday?”

Oh. It’s true. His birthday, a national holiday. How did it slip his mind again?

As if able to read his mind, Claude chuckles. “Really, I just wanted to see you again. In person. I already meant it to be a Saint Cichol’s surprise, and our texts the other day were just...additional motivation, if you will.”

“You’re amazing,” Dimitri says, as earnest as he’s ever been. This time, it’s Claude’s turn to blush, a rosy flush creeping up his neck and onto his cheeks. It offers a nice contrast to the paleness of the snowflakes that have started accumulating in his hair, dusting his dark curls with white.

It occurs to Dimitri that perhaps they should have had this conversation inside.

“Come,” he tells Claude, slinging an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders to steer him back towards the castle’s warmth. “You must be freezing.”

Claude snorts and tucks his chin down into the collar of his coat. “Only because your country considers negative temperature to be mild weather.”

“It’s only starting to get chilly, really⎯” Dimitri cuts himself off when Claude shoots him a half-exasperated, half-fond look.

Before he can fumble himself into another clumsy explanation, Claude tugs him down by the lapels of his jacket and presses a kiss to his lips. It courses through him like lightning, all the way down to the tips of his toes, and it lingers even after Claude pulls away.

“Well, you’re here to keep me warm, aren’t you? Lead the way.”

Like this, his love is bright and lovely, the great hall’s flickering hearth painting him in broad strokes of honey and gold.

Dimitri takes Claude’s hand, and follows.

[chloes-yellow-cup]

Nowish - Part 8

Bechloe. Staubrey. Bellas Squared/Stechlobree.

A story in which I convinced myself by accident that this could work. Let me try and convince you too.

Nowish Master Post  - Everything on one page.

A Shared Lifetime - All my fics

Recommended Mood Music on Spotify. Artistic license taken with song release years.

Note on the links: The ones about music lead to YouTube vids for fun. Rest are GIFs or links to whatever gift idea I have.

The Party and the Aftermath.

~B~

Saturday, July 1st, 2017

Beca looked around and grinned.

Their backyards were full of people.

Music makers mixed with science nerds mixed with lawyers mixed with dance teachers.

The party had started at noon and showed no sign of stopping. There was so much laughter and yelling over the music that she was surprised her head wasn’t pounding as it usually did in crowds.  But the day was so far – and she knocked on the wood of the bench she was sitting on – nothing but net. She frowned, not sure where she’d heard that phrase or why her brain dredged it up now. She was sure it had to do with sports. One of them. Whatever, she was having fun in a crowd for once.

A flash of red caught her eye when Chloe turned around and looked at her as the music changed.

Ok, so maybe Beca was having a lot of fun. In fact, this may have been the third time in the past five hours that “It Was Always You” by Maroon 5 had come up in her playlist. The first time, none of the key people had thought anything of it. The second time, Chloe had given her a ‘look.’ Similar to the one she was giving right now. But now… Now Chloe’s eyes twinkled at her, somehow full of something knowing. Beca could see that she’d figured out it was intentional and what it might possibly mean.  Beca winked and could hear Chloe’s laugh over the music.

Today was a great day.

~

The next time it played, which if Beca was still able to count after everything she’d been drinking, made the fourth time it had come up.

“You must like this song.”

Beca turned around slowly, having learned if she did it quickly, her head felt like it flew fifty feet to the side before settling back on her neck. “What?”

Aubrey shrugged, almost spilling her drink. “I know you have enough music that I could listen to it twenty-four-hours-a-day, for thiiiiiiirty years and not hear a repeat. But I’ve heard this one already today.”

Beca just blinked at her, hoping she looked innocent. “Oh? I hadn’t noticed.”

“I swear, this is like the third time I’ve heard it.” Aubrey closed one eye, peering at her. “Are you drunk?”

“No, you’re just blurry.” Beca cracked up but with her balance gone, she fell to the ground. That was literally the best joke that Jesse had ever said and she loved when she got the chance to use it.

Aubrey closed the other eye and opened it again. “Were you always on the ground?”

“Nope. Help me up.” Beca shot her hand up and wiggled her fingers. Aubrey carefully took it and tugged but Beca overestimated her own force as she pulled herself up and they collided. “Oops.”

“Hey, no mashing of my wife without me.” Stacie frowned playfully as she came over. “Rude.”

“Beca fell over. I helped her up.” Aubrey added helpfully.

“Ah. Water for both of you then.” Stacie stepped over to one of the many coolers sweating around the lawn. She pulled out four bottles and handed them each one. “I’m gonna go find Chlo. She’s usually more sensible… but sometimes not.”

“She’s so smart.” Aubrey sighed as she watched Stacie walk away. “And pretty. Don’t you think she’s pretty, Becs?.”

“Oh yeah. I mean – All of that. And handy to have around.” Beca opened the bottle and downed half of it in one go. She wasn’t sure water had ever tasted so good. “I’m gonna go find out if Jeff’s finished making the burgers. I need to eat.”

“Oooh.” Aubrey’s eyes lit up.

“C’mon, Blurry.” Beca took her hand and they headed for the giant BBQ – once again Beca’s insistence that size matters - that normally no one but Stacie ever used throughout the year.

~

By the time their guests started yelling for them to bust out the Karaoke machine, Beca – and the rest of her girls, she assumed – had sobered up considerably. She was still drunk, but she wasn’t falling down anymore. Her lips twitched in a lopsided smile as she thought that she’d have to thank Stacie for that one day.

She stepped back once the machine was set up and turned to the group. “First up, my beautiful wife.”

Chloe stepped forward, “Why thank you.” She pushed Beca toward a chair. “I got it. Go sit.”

Beca went willingly to where she’d set her beer while she arranged the machine and settled into one of the lawn chairs littering the area.

Chloe tapped on the microphone to test it then smiled widely. “First I would like to say thank you for everyone who braved the heat to be with us today.” The audience cheered at her. “You guys have all made the 2nd annual Posen-Conrad/Beale-Mitchell – boy that’s a mouthful – 4th of July bash even better than the first.” She leaned over and pushed the button to start the music she’d selected and Beca had to bite her cheek to keep from laughing.

She’d already been snickering at ‘mouthful’ because she was mentally 16 and lived in the gutter when she was drunk. But at the first few notes, she’d started chanting to herself. ‘Don’t look at Aubrey, don’t look at Aubrey.’ She knew she would lose it if she did. She rolled her lips together, trying to hold it together.

Because of course, the first song Chloe decided to sing was ‘It Was Always You.’

  Woke up sweating from a dream With a different kind of feeling, oh All day long my heart was beating Searching for the meaning, oh

  Then, to Beca’s amusement, delight and, she could finally admit to herself, a thrill of something close to desire, Stacie jumped up next to Chloe for the chorus.

  Hazel eyes, I was so color blind We were just wasting time, uh uh babe For my whole life, we never crossed the line Only friends in my mind, but now I realize

It was always you Can't believe I could not see it all this time All this time It was always you

Now I know why my heart wasn't satisfied Satisfied It was always you, you

No more guessing who Looking back now I know it was always you Always you

  Beca was looking around to see who else might be paying attention to any special meaning in the lyrics when she caught sight of Aubrey. She had her ‘considering face’ on as Beca’s eyes skated over her, and it caused another bubble of laughter to rise up so she moved on quickly. Which meant she missed it when Aubrey joined the other girls until her voice came through the speakers.

All my hidden desires finally came alive No, I never told lies to you so why would I start tonight

  Beca’s eyes jerked back to their impromptu stage, her pulse beginning to race. Chloe stood in the middle, Aubrey and Stacie flanking with an arm around her, using the one microphone. Beca swallowed thickly and fell back on a hopefully less ‘bitch’ variation of her Resting Bitch Face to try and remain calm and cool on the surface.

But underneath… It felt like lightning was flashing up and down her body and she was afraid if she moved, she’d break the spell. Or leap into the middle of them and kiss… someone. Or all of them.

The thought slid slowly through her mind, almost as if her own brain didn’t want to startle her. ‘This may… be too on the nose for such a public space.’

Then she noticed that while Chloe sang directly to her, which was normal as her wife, Stacie and Aubrey appeared to be singing directly to each other. Beca didn’t think the rest of the cheering, and completely trashed, crowd noticed how often the two of them split their attention between her and Chloe as well as each other. Or what their eyes seemed to be promising her when she met them.

But Beca did.

And the way they all looked at her during the last chorus made her feel like she was getting the most public, secret, no-touching lap dance in the world. Her thighs clenched involuntarily and she rubbed her suddenly sweating palms on them. Arousal swept through her, making her breath catch and quicken.

As the song came to an end, she snapped out of her daze and whistled her appreciation while the crowd around them clapped and stopped their feet.

Maybe she should drink a little more after all. 

The three of them took their bows and stepped toward her wearing matching mischievous smiles.

Yeah. Yeah, she should definitely drink more. 

~B~

Sunday, July 2nd, 2017

Beca groaned and tried to close her mouth; everything hurt, even her jaw and especially her head. She tried to swallow, but her mouth was as dry as her father’s humor. Her body felt like it was under a heavy weight and her limbs didn’t want to move when she tried stretching. She realized why her mouth was parched when her cheek hit the giant drool spot on her pillow.

“Here.” A soft voice said from above her.

Beca felt her hand taken and pills were placed in it. Her fingers curled around them. She’d be grateful if she had any energy.

“Down the hatch. I’ve got water.”

Beca whimpered her thanks and slowly moved her hand and head toward each other until she could scoop the pills in her mouth.

“This is going to be trickier unless you want me to just pour it on your face and hope you get some in your mouth.” The voice sounded amused.

Beca nodded, but she held her hand out and felt a cool plastic bottle settle against her palm. She lifted her head off the pillow and pushed up enough to swallow some blissfully cool water while someone gently helped steady her.  She’d been wrong yesterday; this was the best tasting water she’d ever had.

She drained the water and let her head fall back to the bed as the guiding hand took the bottle back. She tried to speak but all that came out was a croak.

“If that was thank you, you’re welcome.” A hand ran lightly over her hair, soothing, as lips pressed to her temple.

Beca nodded and fell back into sleep. She hoped she’d feel better when she woke up again. She’d figure out who the voice belonged to then. They were kind of awesome.

~

When Beca woke the second time, she felt much better, not hurting as much as before. She experimentally tried to stretch but her body still felt weighted down. She put a bit more force into it and that’s when she realized she was naked and not alone.

‘Ok, that’s not unusual.’

She flexed her legs from her hips to her toes to wake them up, then her arms from shoulder to fingers.

That’s about the time she realized Chloe was lying naked across her back. That also wasn’t unusual. She smiled sleepily as one hand twitched back to awkwardly caress a bare hip.

“Morning sleepyhead.”

Beca frowned, her eyes still closed. That was Chloe’s voice alright. But it didn’t come from above her.

She forced her eyes open and met the twinkling blue ones she loved more than music. Chloe was on the other side of the bed, lying on her side, one hand propping up her head. Fully dressed.

Except that shouldn’t be possible, because someone was definitely draped across her back. Naked. She could feel them breathing. She knew were naked, because she could feel two -

She managed to croak out a quiet “Oh god.” Chloe winked at her.

Then, to make matters truly worse, she heard Aubrey’s dry tone from behind her by the door. “Dirty bird.”

There was a voice in her ear. “Shhh.” A long arm stretched down and pushed its way between Beca and the mattress. “Sleep time, Bree.” Stacie wiggled around until she was on her side and used both her arms to scoop Beca into her chest to spoon her tightly under the sheet.

Beca’s eyes were wide open now, locked on her wife’s, who just smiled wider.

‘We’re both fucking naked. In The Expanse.’ Beca felt her word tip sideways and all she could do was stare at Chloe as she slipped into full panic. ‘Chloe is dressed. Bree is also probably dressed. Oh god. What did we do?’

“If you and my wife feel like it, I’ve got food over at our place.” Despite the pain in her head, Beca craned her neck around to try and look at Aubrey, but the angle was wrong. “That is, if you guys don’t want to have round two this morning.”

Beca’s mouth dropped and stayed there until she felt Chloe slide off the bed. “I got out clothes for you guys, they’re sitting on the dresser. There’s more water on your table.”  She headed out the door with Aubrey.

Stacie’s arm tightened. “So much noise. Why so much talking.” She buried her face in Beca’s hair as she shifted her hips closer and tighter into Beca’s ass. “Wha… wait.” Beca felt Stacie lift her head and could only assume she was looking around. “Bree?”

Beca let her head fall back to her pillow and met Stacie’s still dazed and confused eyes. “Surprise?”

Moving slowly, Stacie unwound her arm from around Beca’s waist and pushed the sheets up enough to look down at their bodies. “Beca?”

“Yup. Heh.” Beca used the moment to slide to the edge of the bed.

“Why are we naked.”  Stacie spoke slowly.

“Wish I knew.” Beca groaned as she sat up and pushed over to swing her legs over the side. “Almost as much as I wish I knew why my head hurts so much.” She slipped down to the floor and gingerly made her way to the dresser. She pulled on her underwear and shorts first before wrestling herself into the sports bra Chloe had set out. She turned with her tank in her hands.

Stacie was sitting up in bed, the sheets pooled around her waist, obviously not worried about her current state of undress beyond ‘how had this happened.’ “Becs. What… why are we- Where are…?”

That, at least, Beca could answer. She decided to leave out the color commentary though. “They’re over at your place. Aubrey made us breakfast.” A quick glance at the clock showed her it was almost noon. “Or, brunch, I guess. She didn’t really say more than ‘food’ before she and Chloe left.”

“They were here? While we were like that?” Stacie pushed herself to the edge of the bed. “Holy fuck, The Expanse is even bigger from the fucking middle.”

Beca froze with her shirt halfway over her head before pulling it down.

Stacie actually looked abashed. “That may have been a poor choice of words, considering the situation.”

“Uh.” Beca didn’t want to admit to it, but it was driving her nuts. “Stacie. What happened?”

Stacie groaned as she pulled herself to her feet. “I don’t remember. I take it you don’t either?”

Beca shook her head and immediately regretted it. She picked up the other stack of clothes and brought them over to the bed. “Nope. Not a second. Last thing I remember was Bruce singing a bad rendition of ‘I Will Always Love You.’”

Stacie made a face. “Oh. I wish I didn’t remember that instead.” She stood and pulled on the clothes. “Why do these fit me?”

“Because we had a clothing exchange the last time I pushed you in the pool when you slept over. ‘Packing a bag’ seemed stupid when we’ve got a million drawers.” They each had their own drawer and a few hangers in the other house, as well as their own toothbrush. It was just so much easier that way.

“Oh. Right.” Stacie picked up the bottle on her side of the table. “Did you give me ibuprofen?”

“No, it was one of them. I don’t know which, but they gave me some too. It helped, a bit.” Beca walked back over and grabbed the bottle left for her. “They are never going to let us live this down,” she said idly.

“Live what down? If I’m going to get dragged for something then I’d like to remember. Especially if it involves waking up naked in bed with someone other than my wife.” Stacie drained the last of her bottle, thankfully ignoring the scarlet color Beca was sure she just turned. “Let’s go eat and get it over with.”

They took turns using the bathroom before they stood side by side at the sink to clean up. Beca frowned. Her hair was a rat nest and took far longer than it should have to comb out. It didn’t help that each tug felt like it was pulling her brain out through her scalp. That’s when she noticed the large goose egg just beyond her hairline. “What. The. Fuck. Happened.”

Stacie peered at it. “Holy crap, B. I,” she frowned. “I hope I didn’t cause that.”

Beca gingerly felt the bump. “I’ll feel better once we know what the hell happened last night. I hope.”

They felt marginally better with freshly washed faces, combed hair and brushed teeth. They also liberally used Beca’s mouthwash to try and remove the dead animal taste before they tried to eat.

Foregoing shoes, they carefully made their way down the stairs and through the house to the back yard. Beca groaned. “Oh god, they’ve already cleaned up.”

Stacie started to shake her head and stopped, one hand on her forehead. “No, we tried to stay on top of it throughout the day. I do remember that.”

“Oh, right! Thank god. This would be much worse if they’d had to clean up both yards while we were passed out together.” Beca’s teeth clicked together as she tried to bite back the last bit before it slipped out. “Uh.”

“Yeah.” Stacie frowned. “Maybe.”

They both made their way into the kitchen and stopped just past the door.

“That took less time than I anticipated, honestly.” Chloe was just setting plates down for her and Aubrey and waved at the table. “Sit, I’ll get yours.”

“Yeah, you guys look like you’re going to fall over.” Aubrey looked them over. “But still, you look better than you did before I gave you the Advil.”

“That was you?” Beca slid into the chair across from Aubrey as she nodded. “Thank you, “ she breathed out, as heartfelt as anything she’d ever said.

Stacie leaned down, somewhat hesitantly, and went to kiss Aubrey’s cheek.

“What, my lips aren’t good enough for you anymore?” Aubrey’s voice was teasing and Beca felt herself relaxing.

“I… That’s not even funny, Bree.” Stacie scrunched up her nose and kissed her properly. “Not funny at all.”

Chloe set down a plate in front of Stacie then Beca who was relieved to see it was nothing heavier than a turkey sandwich and a salad. “I don’t know. I thought it was funny.” She put her hand on Beca’s shoulder. “This one didn’t even try to kiss me at all.”

Beca’s eyes went wide but before she could leap from her chair, Chloe had leaned down in front of her and captured her lips. Beca let herself sink back again once Chloe let her go. “Oops. Sorry, Chlo.”

“I imagine you’re both still a little…” Aubrey tilted her head from side to side, searching for the right word as she ate a forkful of salad. “Muddled.”

“That’s one way to put it.” Stacie took a bite of her sandwich and groaned softly. “Just the right amount of mayo.”

Chloe smiled from where she was ladling what smelled like chicken noodle soup into bowls. “You’re welcome.”

Beca took a bite from her sandwich finding it both exactly what she needed yet hard to swallow. She kept wondering three things: what had happened, was she about to get yelled at and, overall, how she really felt if what she thought happened had happened. Ultimately, she felt a bit like a dog creeping around with her tail between her legs, waiting to get swatted despite how… unconcerned they both seemed.

Chloe brought over the soup and finally sat down on Beca’s right, her left hand automatically going to rest on Beca’s thigh, like this was any normal lunch. So Beca tried to follow their lead and focused on filling her belly and hopefully soaking up any residual alcohol. Though she didn’t think that’s all that was twisting her stomach.

Stacie finally looked up after they’d mostly finished the meal. “Ok. What happened.” All three of them looked at her. “We - I can’t remember. I’ve tried. How the hell did I end up naked and spooning Beca.”

Beca felt her head sinking into her shoulders, waiting for the yelling. But then the opposite and absolutely last thing she would have expected happened.

Chloe and Aubrey started laughing. Hard enough that tears immediately started rolling down their cheeks and they had to hold onto the table to stay upright.

Beca and Stacie looked from each other to their wives and back, identical looks of bewilderment on their faces, which caused Chloe and Aubrey to laugh harder.

“Did…” Beca cleared her throat. “Did we break them?”

Stacie’s eyes were narrowed. “I’m not sure if I’m feeling better or worse here.”

Beca ignored the laughter beside her. “What do you mean?”

“Obviously we did something that they’re not mad about. Which means…” Stacie actually growled. “That we did something that I can’t remember. We can’t have done nothing, we were naked. And that pisses me off. Not only have I been thinking about what that might be like for years, I have never gotten so drunk that I don’t remember sex.” She sounded so offended and pissed off that Beca felt her lips twitch. Plus, she was a bit flattered that Stacie was that mad that she didn’t remember sex with Beca. And that she’d been thinking about it for years.

There was a loud clatter as Aubrey fell off her chair and rolled onto her side, laughing so hard she’d gone silent.

Beca whispered. “Holy fuck. We did break Bree.”

That’s when Chloe fell out of her chair.

~

It took a good five minutes for both women to calm down enough to be able to talk. Beca and Stacie had managed to get them up, still giggling, and into the living room. Now they sat, wedged between their wives, waiting them out.

Beca was starting to feel like Stacie, so torn between the infectious giggles they were feeding each other, and being annoyed that something had happened – something she’d maybe sort of finally been thinking about herself – between them and she couldn’t. Fucking. Remember.

Finally Aubrey let out a huge gasp and relaxed against the back of the couch. “Oh my god. That was fucking amazing.”

Beca blinked. Aubrey rarely swore. Her emotions swung back to nervous.

Chloe pulled Beca over and cuddled into her. “Totes.”

Stacie interrupted. “That’s great and all, but… ” She pointed between herself and Beca, “Still in the fucking dark here.”

Aubrey patted her arm and pulled her phone out of her pocket, causing Chloe to let out a couple hysterical giggles. “Beca, can you hook this up to the AppleTV?”

“Uh. Sure.” She gingerly stood and took the phone. She could barely do this without a hangover, even though it was like, only four button pushes, but she muddled her way through and handed the phone back to Aubrey. “You just have to hit play on whatever video you’re about to torture us with.”

“Oh. My. God.” Stacie breathed out, torn between admiration and shock. “You filmed it? Us? It?”

Beca had been in the act of sitting and felt her legs give out. “Holy fuck.” She immediately regretted her choice of words.

Aubrey only nodded. “Indeed.”

Chloe cleared her throat. “So. Uh.” Her voice quavered, “Saddle up.” She was shaking as she tried not to laugh. Aubrey did it for her, high and piercing before she clamped down on it and shook her head as she mouthed ‘Sorry’. “It’s going to be a bumpy ride.” Chloe slapped her hand over her mouth to muffle the giggles she couldn’t hold back.

Stacie threw her arm around Aubrey and started laughing. “Oh my god. What the fu… Jesus. Ok. I’m good. Lessgo.”

Beca swallowed for what felt like the twentieth time since she woke up. “Uh. What she said.” She was relaxing though. Obviously whatever it was wasn’t bad if the two of them couldn’t stop laughing. In fact, Bree had tears running down her cheeks again as she found what she wanted and hit play with another burst of hysteria.

~

The video opened to a wavering shot that Beca eventually recognized as her own living room.

Chloe’s voice came from off camera. “Hurry, you’ll miss them!”

“You can’t rush art, Chlo!” Aubrey was obviously the one filming.

“You can if you’re missing the beginning!” Chloe came into view at the entry to the hall.

The camera wavered, and Beca felt a little ill at the motion, but she found herself forgetting that as voices came from ahead. Aubrey moved into the foyer and panned up to show Beca a few steps up and Stacie standing at the foot, allowing them to be more or less level with each other.

“I… Stace. Stacie. Stace. Staaaaaaaaaaacie.” Beca watched her drunk self pat her friend on the face. “I wanna know what it’s like to be you.”

Stacie snorted. “You are so drunk.”

DrunkStacie took hold of DrunkBeca’s arms. “But.. Becs.” She shook DrunkBeca lightly.

“Ooh, no. No shaking.” DrunkBeca’s cheeks ballooned out a little. “Bad things.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry.” DrunkStacie nodded until she remembered her earlier thought. It lasted a good thirty seconds. “But. Becs.” She leaned forward confidentially. “You’re already hot.”

Beca laughed. “HA! I’m not the only one trashed as fuck!”

Chloe shushed her. “You guys wanted to know, you have to watch.”  Aubrey nodded. They both practically vibrated with their failed attempts to stop laughing.

Stacie and Beca looked at each other and said “Yes, dears.”

DrunkBeca shook her head then winced. “Oooh. Bad move. No no, that’s not.” She grabbed DrunkStacie’s face and pulled her close. “I wanna know what it’s like to be talllllllll.”

DrunkAubrey panned over to DrunkChloe, who was using the wall to hold herself up as she laughed. “Shhh. They might stop.”

DrunkChloe shook her head. “Oh no, when Beca’s this far gone, not much will deter her from whatever goal she has in mind.” DrunkChloe leered. “That’s usually trying to find the fastest way into my pants. I kinda like that about her.” Then she winked. “Gets my motor going. And I think you all know what I mean.” She clicked her tongue.

DrunkAubrey laughed. “That’s my line.”

DrunkChloe waved dismissively. “Yeah but you use it after you quote your dad and no one ever understands what your dad means. I just make sex jokes when I say it, so everyone does know what Iiiiiii mean.”

Stacie laughed. “She’s got you there, Babe.” Her attention jerked back to the screen when she heard her voice get louder.

“Beca, that’s… That’s so cuuuuuuuute.” The camera wavered back to the two of them. “Of course I’ll help you be tall!” DrunkStacie turned her back to DrunkBeca. “Hop on!”

Beca found she was holding her breath as she watched her drunk ass try to climb onto Stacie’s back. “There’s way too much air gap between you two, idiot.”

Chloe, who had covered her mouth again, pulled her hand away long enough to say, “Did you just call yourself an idiot?” She put her hand back, eyes wide.

Beca frowned. “What? No, I called…” She pointed at the screen. “Oh.”

She watched as DrunkStacie finally figured out that was never going to work and leaned back to make it a bit easier. DrunkChloe stepped forward, hands out and ready to catch or balance anyone if they started to totter.

Beca watched, fascinated despite the slight embarrassment she was feeling, as she basically jumped onto Stacie’s back so their heads were almost even – with this positioning, DrunkBeca was actually a bit taller. Her arms went around DrunkStacie’s shoulders while her legs went around her waist. Beca was relieved to see DrunkStacie grab underneath her knees to keep her from slipping.

DrunkBeca looked around. “Duuuuuude. Everything is so tiny from up here! How do you avoid stepping on anyone!?”

DrunkStacie took a step forward. “Like this.”

“Woah! Fuck! Slow the fuck down, Gigantor.” DrunkBeca pulled on her shoulders. “Dude. I’m not used to this. Go slow with me, fuck.”

Giggles from both DrunkAubrey and DrunkChloe echoed from off camera before DrunkAubrey’s voice very clearly said “That’s what I said the first time too.” More giggling. “Except I used ‘fuck’ more. Then I asked her to go faster. Much faster. And I’m sure you know what I mean this time.”

Beca looked at Aubrey, mouthing ‘Oh my god’ before looking back at the TV. Aubrey’s face, and Chloe’s for that matter, was contorted and red as they tried desperately to muffle their giggles.

DrunkChloe’s impressed voice layered over DrunkStacie carefully taking another step forward. “Oooh. Stacie is really rubbing off on you, Bree.”

DrunkStacie spun toward them - causing DrunkBeca to let out a screech of terror as she leaned backward with the movement like spinning the Tea Cups at Disneyland - and winked. “Every chance I get.”

DrunkBeca wrapped her arms around DrunkStacie’s head, “DUDE! WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED!?” She gulped for breath. “I’m dying! Help, I think I’m dying! I see spots again, oh god is it because we’re so high and there’s not enough oxygen?!”

Beca buried her face in her hands. “Oh my god. Please kill me now.”

Chloe and Aubrey gave up and covered their mouths with pillows as they continued to laugh, completely unable to stop.

Stacie shook her head. “No way. If I gotta live through this, so do you.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re not watching yourself relive a bear trap.” Beca ignored the literal scream of laughter that Aubrey let out on the other side of the couch.

DrunkStacie let out a yelp, “I’m blind!” Her hands shot out like she was going to run into something while standing still.

“Oh no! What happened?!” DrunkBeca leaned forward, slipping her arms down around DrunkStacie’s neck.

“Oh. No. Must’ve just blacked out for a sec.” DrunkStacie nodded. “I’m good. You good?”

“Dude. Let’s get the show on the road!” DrunkBeca kicked her legs a bit.

“I’m not a horse, Beca.” DrunkStacie sounded insulted.

“But…” DrunkBeca waved a hand at the floor. “Legs!”

DrunkAubrey moved backward as DrunkStacie stepped forward, catching the edges of DrunkChloe standing up and following behind.

“Is it everything you imagined?” DrunkStacie turned to look over her shoulder.

DrunkBeca shrugged. “Eh. I thought you’d be taller.”

Beca let out a bark of laughter. “And Jesse said that line was never used in real life!”

Chloe fell over on her side, clutching her stomach with one hand. “Oh, I can’t. It hurts. Oh my god.”

Aubrey looked over. “And there’s so much more to go.” Her voice sounded like she was holding her breath just to get the words out.

Beca and Stacie exchanged a look before looking back to the TV in time to watch DrunkStacie bounce off the door jamb out of the living room.

DrunkBeca flipped it off. “Dude. That thing just jumped out and tried to trip you.”

DrunkStacie glared at it. “What a dick.”

“Where do you think we’re going?” Beca asked idly.

Stacie shrugged. “Hell, probably.”

DrunkAubrey followed them, and, Beca was pleased to point out, bounced off the same frame they had. DrunkChloe laughed until there was a small thud and an unbelievably adorable ‘Damnit, it got us all!’ from off camera.

Then DrunkBeca’s head bounced off the light hanging in the kitchen.

Beca winced. “Well. That explains the goose egg.”

Stacie whistled. “Shit, it was my fault. I’m sorry, B.”

Beca shrugged and pointed at the screen. “Well, drunk me obviously didn’t see it. She just apologized for running into it.”

Chloe sat up, calming slightly in her worry. “Oh, babe. I didn’t even check.”

“I can tell, drunk you just fell over laughing. You probably got bruises from all that, yourself.”

“A few.” Chloe smiled sheepishly. “Sorry.” She kissed Beca on the cheek.

“Forgiven.” Beca reached over and squeeze Chloe’s hand.

“Hey.” Beca looked up at her drunken slurring voice. “Hey! I got an idea.”

DrunkStacie came to a stop by the dining room table. “Wha’sat?”

DrunkBeca leaned down and whispered loud enough for the neighbors to hear. “I bet you can't buck me off your back like a bronco."

DrunkChloe immediately started singing "Pony" by Ginuwine and grinding her hips as she danced into the frame.

Beca sat up. This sounded… Bad. Well, not Chloe; she looked and sounded hot, as always. And while she made a mental note to have Chloe sing it for her at a future date, Beca couldn't really spare the time to think about that right now.

Stacie muttered a quiet “Oh shit.”

DrunkStacie thought about it for a whole two seconds. “Deal.”

DrunkBeca cheered. “C’mon Bucky, let’s see what you can do.”

Beca frowned. “Bucky?”

DrunkChloe broke off singing and echoed her question. “Why Bucky?” DrunkAubrey immediately picked up singing where Chloe had left off.

The way DrunkAubrey was singing was highly suggestive and made Beca shift subtly on the couch. She looked away from the screen for a second and saw that Stacie had goosebumps. Beca couldn’t stop herself from leaning a little closer to her and whispering "Is that how she sounds around you when you guys are... um... alone?"

But her voice wasn't quiet enough with the sharp ears around her and it was Aubrey who answered. "Wouldn't you like to know. Wait – hold that thought for just a second." Chloe let out another soft burst of giggles.

Stacie only winked at her as Beca frowned and looked back at the TV.

DrunkBeca shrugged. “Seems like a good horse name.”

“Oh.” DrunkStacie looked like she was ready to burst into action when DrunkAubrey’s voice froze everyone as her singing abruptly ended. Which Beca was really kind of happy about, because Stacie actually was Aubrey’s ‘pony’ which made it all the more evocative and distracting.

“WAIT!” It was a voice that had stopped many a Bella in their tracks and Beca snapped her attention back to the TV by pure reflex. “Take this outside into the grass.”

DrunkBeca swayed and pushed until DrunkStacie got the idea and turned to face the camera. “Bree.” DrunkBeca’s tone was the overly patient ‘explaining to an idiot’ that only the truly intoxicated could get. “Stacie’s not a real horse. She doesn’t eat graassss.” She paused and an extremely dirty leer passed over her face.

Beca felt herself flush. She knew that look and it meant she was thinking something truly filthy. She had half a second where she hoped she wouldn’t say it, though she knew it was futile. DrunkBeca totally had a word vomit problem and Beca hated it.

But to her surprise, DrunkAubrey was the one who finished what Beca was likely thinking. “I know that, Beca.” It was the same syrup sweet voice she’d used at the retreat. “She eats me.” The satisfaction in her tone practically dripped through the TV.

Beca fell back against the couch and laughed. “Ok, that was almost worth the price of admission.”

“Bree!” Stacie’s voice was full of laughter. “I’m so mad at myself that I don’t remember this! But I love you two so much for your drunken evil genius in filming it.”

Aubrey held up a finger. “Just wait.”

DrunkBeca’s face was still leering. “I’d like to see that.”

Beca felt all the color drain out of her face. “I… oh.”

Stacie nodded, grinning. “Oh.”

Chloe spoke up. “Wait.”

DrunkAubrey replied, “Maybe if you play your cards right.”

DrunkBeca yelled, “Hot damn!”

Beca flushed. “Oh my god.”

“Are we praying now?” Stacie’s voice was light. “Because this is like my prayers are answered.” She looked around as they all stared at her. “What?”

DrunkStacie crouched down to go through the back door that DrunkChloe had opened. But she didn’t crouch enough and DrunkBeca had gone higher instead of lower and her forehead skimmed off the edge of the frame.

“Fuck. Again?” Beca’s fingers gingerly traced the knot on her head.

“Sorry.” Stacie patted her knee.

“Me too.” Chloe kissed her cheek again.

Once everyone was in the backyard they’d decreed DrunkChloe to be the official time keeper and moved into the grass by the pool. Suddenly the camera lowered, like DrunkAubrey had fallen, and the angle was crooked.

DrunkChloe dropped her arms and looked over. “Bree. What are you doing?”

DrunkAubrey answered like the reason should be obvious. “Artistic framing, Chloe. Duh.”

Beca swallowed her giggle. “I didn’t know you had filmmaker aspirations, Bree.”

Aubrey shrugged. “Stacie keeps telling me I need a hobby.”

“Oh.” DrunkChloe turned back to the drunken rodeo. “You guys ready?”

DrunkStacie nodded, “Yup. Hold on tight, 8 Seconds!”

DrunkBeca threw both her hands in the air. “Wait!” When she started to fall backward DrunkStacie leaned forward to counter balance her. “I said WAIT, Bucky! Shit!”

DrunkChloe began to tap her foot. “Well?”

DrunkBeca started to wrestle with her shirt. “This needs to come off.”

DrunkAubrey moved to a different angle, but still low and ‘artistic’. “Why?”

“Skin to skin contact, duh.” DrunkBeca finally got her shirt off and waved it over her head. “Makes it better.” She seemed oblivious to the fact that Stacie’s shirt was still on.

DrunkChloe sounded confused. “A rodeo?”

“Everything.” DrunkBeca’s voice was dead serious as she nodded.

Beca rolled her eyes. “Oh my god.” She needed to come up with something else to say, but her brain was skipping the tracks. This was just… embarrassing. But Jesus fuck was it hysterical.

“Ok. Whatever.” DrunkChloe’s arms came up. “Ok. You ready?”

DrunkBeca waved her shirt over her head. “Ready!”

DrunkStacie braced herself. “Ok, hold on, 8 Seconds –“

DrunkBeca leaned down and whispered in her ear. “You already said that, Bucky.”

“Shut up.” DrunkStacie cleared her throat. “I’m going to give you the ride of your life that doesn’t involve… uh…”

DrunkAubrey supplied, “A bed?”

DrunkStacie nodded, “Sure, that too.”

DrunkChloe shouted “GO!”

DrunkAubrey tsked. “Not even a countdown, Chlo? It’s like you’ve forgotten everything.”

Beca watched, fascinated, as DrunkStacie took off around the yard, her arms still wrapped around DrunkBeca’s legs so there was no chance she was going to fall off anyway. As DrunkBeca continued to wave her shirt over her head, whooping and hollering, Beca knew she was going to have to apologize to the neighbors at the next meeting.

DrunkAubrey had moved to the side, continuing to find the best ‘artistic angle’ as DrunkChloe shouted encouragement to DrunkBeca. “That’s my girl, ride ‘em cowboy!”

Then the angle changed and the pool came into view.

Beca tensed, though she knew, obviously, that she hadn’t cracked her head open on the concrete.

DrunkStacie tried to cut the corner but DrunkBeca’s weight threw her normally perfect balance off.

Beca’s head tilted in sync with DrunkStacie’s entire body on the screen.

DrunkAubrey scrambled to her feet, causing the worst shaky cam in cinematic history, just as there were twin screams and a giant splash.

DrunkChloe’s voice filtered in from offscreen with a quiet, “Ah shit.”

The video went black.

Beca and Stacie sat in silence, staring at the screen. Chloe and Bree had exhausted themselves and were sprawled on the couch on either side of them like limp ragdolls.

“We didn’t have sex.” Stacie didn’t pose it as a question.

Aubrey bit her lip. “Nope.”

“Then how did we end up naked in bed together?” Beca was still running her fingers over the lump on her head.

Chloe cleared her throat and nodded at Bree. “There’s one more… tiny…”

Aubrey scrolled over and hit play.

Beca sighed. Eventually this had to end, right?

The camera started out focused on the dresser in Beca’s room. “Bree, I don’t know if I’m doing this right.” DrunkChloe was apparently filming this time.

“Kinda got my hands full here, Chlo.” DrunkAubrey’s voice sounded strained. And annoyed. “Why. Are. You. So. Squirmy!” There were some rustling sounds that Beca couldn’t quite place. “Stacie was easier to deal with and she’s all limbs!”

DrunkBeca’s voice crooned out of the speakers as the camera slowly panned over to the bed. “Bree. Aubs. Aubreeeeeeey. Breeeeeeeeeeee.” There was a drunken giggle. “You have the warmest, softest heart. I love you so much. You and Stace. Staubreeeeeeey.” She added, almost as an afterthought, “After my girl, of course.” She sighed gustily. “She’s the best.”

There was a pause before DrunkAubrey answered. “You’re sweet, Becs. But, those aren’t my heart.”

DrunkChloe stifled her giggles as the camera shook, pausing on a section of floor that looked like it had Stacie’s wet clothes and part of Beca’s on it.

DrunkStacie let out a peal of giggles. “Boooooooooooooobs. Bree has the bestest boooooobs.”

The camera finally focused on the bed where DrunkBeca’s shirt was off and DrunkAubrey looked like she was trying to wrestle off her wet skinny jeans. Beca was mortified to see she had her hands on DrunkAubrey’s chest and was smiling blissfully at her. DrunkStacie was lying in her wet underwear on the bed beside her.

DrunkBeca sighed wistfully. “Boobs. I’m a boob man.” She jiggled DrunkAubrey’s chest, paused, and then cracked up as she did it again.

DrunkStacie rolled her head to the side and reached out one hand and poked DrunkBeca in the boobs. “Booooooobs.” She poked again. “You’ve got great boobs too, B.” She turned her head the other way and looked at the camera. Or, more accurately, below. “And Chlo. You’ve got great boobs too.” She sighed lustfully. “I’m surrounded by great boobs.” She looked down and groped herself. “Including mine.”

DrunkAubrey stared blandly at her. “I’m so glad you’re amused with yourselves.”

Beca’s mouth dropped open but nothing came out. She was officially beyond speech.

DrunkAubrey looked over. “Chlo. I think I’m going to need your help getting Beca’s pants off and both of them into dry clothes.”

DrunkChloe jerked and it shook the camera. “Oh. Right.”

Once again the screen faded to black.

Beca exhaled and decided to ignore the fact that she’d full on groped Aubrey. “Actually, that didn’t answer all of it.”

“Well,” Chloe cleared her throat. “I helped Bree get you out of the rest of your wet clothes, because I was not buying a new mattress for The Expanse because your swim ruined it.”

Aubrey took over. “And by the time we’d turned around with your pj’s, Beca was scrambling up the bed like a spider monkey and worming her way under the covers, complaining that she was ‘cold now.’” Aubrey paused. “At the top of her lungs.”

Stacie just raised her eyebrow.

“You, being the good friend you are, told her you’d keep her warm. With your boobs.” Aubrey turned and smiled at Beca serenely, which Beca in no way trusted. “And you - you said she was like a furnace with breasts just before you passed out.”

 “Aw. You love me.” Beca choked on a laugh as she shoulder bumped Stacie and let out a sigh of relief. “So… there was no… uh.”

Chloe looked at her. “You should definitely be able to say ‘sex’ by now, Beca.”

“Right, whatever.” She waved her hand in the air. “That.”

Aubrey shook her head. “Nope, no sex.”

“Thank god.” Stacie exhaled loudly. When Beca’s head jerked up she raised her hands. “You have no idea how mad I was that I didn’t remember if we’d had sex.” She looked past Beca and threw a pillow at Chloe. “Jerk, you let me think I banged your wife and couldn’t remember.”

Chloe looked offended. “Just my wife?”

“She was the only one with their bare ass in my junk when I woke up, so yeah.”

Beca spoke up. “Which leads us to: What about you two? Where’d you sleep?”

Chloe shook her head. “Oh, we totally just changed and crawled into bed after you. It was like 3am by the time we all crashed. I was exhausted.”

Stacie perked up. “Oh. We made an early night of it? I mean, compared to last year."

Aubrey nodded. “We’d been up maybe an hour before you, and I gave you the ibuprofen to try and stave off the worst of the headache.” She looked over at Beca apologetically. “You might be kinda doomed, though, with your head.”

Beca shrugged. “It’s actually kind of fading. Could just be I can’t feel it under the layer of embarrassment.”  

Chloe kissed her cheek. “I still love you.”

Stacie kissed the other. “Me too.” She did it again. “Bree too.”

“Alright, alright.” Beca slapped at Stacie. “You already had your feel.”

Stacie gasped, spinning to Aubrey. “Did she do the thing?”

Aubrey sighed and made a face. “I owe you twenty yellow.”

“Yes!” Chloe pumped her arm.

“Oh god, we’re still missing something?” Beca groaned. “I can’t take much more of these reveals.”

Chloe was smug. “I bet Aubrey that Stace would ask if you did your sleep groping.”

“Oh my...” Beca closed her eyes and prayed for the couch to swallow her.

Aubrey said, “She totally did.”

“Ha!” Stacie laughed. “And I was naked this time!”

Beca threw out, “Yeah, but you don’t remember it.”

Stacie frowned. “Oh. Shit.”

Beca looked over at Aubrey. “Hey, Aubs?” Maybe she could redeem herself here…

“Yes?”

“So, is it?”

Aubrey’s entire face seemed to frown in confusion. “Is… what… what?”

Beca’s voice was completely blank. “Was that your sex voice?” She truly hoped how much she wanted to know that answer didn’t show.  If it did, it could cause her attempt to pay Aubrey back for putting them through all that to backfire.

But to her immense relief Aubrey turned bright red and thumped Stacie’s leg when the brunette opened her mouth. “Don’t encourage her, Stace.”

Stacie pouted. “Aw, but it’s fun!”

Beca sat quietly for a bit, letting the others continue to joke around her. She took careful stock of her body and decided that she actually wasn’t that bad off, it must have been the uncertainty of what had happened the night before that had really been making her feel like crap. Now that she knew nothing actually had, she felt more like herself. Which meant she was rapidly descending into the gutter where she normally lived but didn’t normally indulge in.

‘Until lately, I suppose.’ Now it seemed to be her default setting and Naked Stacie and Sex Voice Aubrey certainly hadn’t helped things this morning.

Her mind unexpectedly returned to what she’d been feeling during karaoke the night before. She had been relatively sober then so every thought, every flicker of desire was there the moment she landed on the memory.

After a few minutes, Beca felt Chloe’s eyes on her and looked over. Beca knew she had defaulted to her less severe resting bitch face of neutrality, but Chloe always was able see through it. Beca flushed when Chloe gave her a knowing grin before turning back to her conversation with Aubrey.

Beca took a deep breath as an idea thread its way through her mind.

Tuning back into the room, she realized Aubrey and Chloe were discussing what they would do for dinner, and Stacie was opting for pizza because it was easy and there were no dishes to do afterward.

“Why don’t we go back home and all of us can freshen up. I, for one, still feel like I need a shower. And maybe a short nap.” Chloe ran a hand through her hair. “We can order pizza and you guys can come over. Say like, 2 hours? 3?”

Beca cleared her throat, wondering if she dared, but what came out of her mouth was “We can watch a movie or something.” They were never going to believe she meant that. Like, at all.

The room fell silent and she could feel them all staring at her.

“Like, on demand. I’m sure there’s something I’ll wanna watch.” She hoped they didn’t notice her breath hitch in her throat when she said it. She hadn’t meant it that way, but her mind had dropped into the gutter like Stacie into the pool.

“Sounds good, B.” Stacie slapped her on the leg. “We’ll make a movie fan out of you yet.”

“I’ve been trying for yeaaaaaars.” Chloe rose to her feet. “Good luck.”

“I think I can convert her.” Stacie sounded confident, and maybe not like she was talking about movies anymore.

“Stacie can wear anyone down, eventually.” Aubrey’s gaze slipped over Beca and she knew Bree wasn’t talking about movies.

“One can only hope.” And Beca, who knew every inflection of Chloe’s voice, had the last confirmation she needed.

Or Beca was under the influence of a concussion and they were just talking about hanging out. In all their clothing.

They said their goodbyes and walked across to their house, Chloe’s hand warm and secure in her own.

‘Now time to see if I can put my money where my mouth is. Oh Beca, don’t start thinking about putting your mouth places.’

Chloe squeezed her fingers and smiled.

‘Oh boy.’

[thexgrayxlady]

Notes: So this is not a new fic. This is me more or less forgiving a piece that put me off writing for a long time as I get back into it. I don't think it's that bad anymore. It's just a little crack fic and I had fun writing it at the time.

Space Warlocks from the Planet Nyx

Joker didn’t believe in the concept of, “So bad it’s good.” Something was either good or it wasn’t. You either jumped the ship across the galaxy and hit your target, or you spliced it into an oncoming asteroid. No bizarre middle ground where you fucked up so bad the resulting crash and burn was entertainment.

He also liked to think that he had pretty good taste in media, which he passed on to his kid sister. Yet now, he was more than a little concerned with Hillary’s normally impeccable taste.

Space Warlocks from the Planet Nyx should never have seen the light of day, yet Hillary insisted that he’d love it and even went so far as to send him a copy. He completely believed her when she said the file wasn’t pirated too. Every time he called home, she asked if he’d watched it yet. He didn’t want her to resort to underhanded tactics like the sad eyes or getting dad involved, but he did not want to watch that movie. At this point, it was a matter of principle.

He liked to consider himself a good brother, but this was pushing things a little far.

But he was off shift and Shepard was looking for any excuse she could get to write him up. So rather than staying on the flight deck and backseat piloting, he traded a couple fancy travel shampoos to Kaidan for a pack of M&Ms and settled down in the mess to dutifully suffer.

The things he put up with for family.

It started out like any other mediocre fantasy movie. Kid on a farm. Wanted more from life. Had quest for fortune and glory handed to him when the Space Warlocks took over their planet. The local Space Hermit gave him a magic laser gun and told him the secret lies within. All told through a combination of painfully stiff and just plain weird dialogue.

Seriously, who would agree to say, “Forsooth?” The whole thing definitely needed a few more rewrites.

By the time the Designated Protagonist met the Designated Love Interest, he was considering packing it in. He’d seen enough to know exactly where this was going and he was nearly out of candy.

But Joker kept with it. Say what you will about him, once he committed to something, he stuck with it.

Besides, he was starting to see how the movie would appeal to a certain kind of person. If he ever wanted to bash his head against a wall for two hours without breaking anything, he might just consider rewatching it.

The Designated Protagonist and the Designated Love Interest – she was way too cool to be in this movie- were eventually captured by one of the Space Warlock’s henchmen.

He wasn’t surprised by that. He saw how the Designated Protagonist was flying that ship. Even though it was a repurposed garbage shuttle, in the hands of a half-way competent pilot, it should handle better than that.

“No,” he muttered. He didn’t think they consulted anybody in regards to three dimensional movement. “No. Don’t do that to the poor shuttle…”

The glowing purple beam drew the shuttle into the bigger ship’s hold. There was the ominous, and barely public domain, music, the Designated Protagonist and the Designated Love Interest were led off their shuttle to meet the Space Sorcerer.

Then he saw it. The reason his sister wanted him to watch this movie. Right there. Wearing a moon and stars robe. The Warlock’s henchman.

“Holy shi…”

“Is that the Commander?” He turned around just in time to see Ashley plant her hands on the back of the chair next to him.

“I don’t know,” he said. He sat back, stunned, and let this great and terrible knowledge wash over him in cold shock.

“I was passing by and caught a second and…what is this?” she asked. It was a couple moments before he could shake off the feeling that something was very, very wrong with the world and form an answer.

“Space Warlocks from the Planet Nyx,” he said. “My sister said I’d like it. I didn’t think she meant…”

“Commander Shepard in a wizard costume,” Ashley said.

“You on shift?” He definitely needed a second opinion. She shook her head. “I’ll patch you in.”

Ashley straddled the chair next to him and he tipped a few candies into her hand.

“Kaidan?”

“Best snacks. Also a sucker for fancy shampoo,” he answered as they settled in to watch the Shepard lookalike wave her arms dramatically while trying to figure out the Designated Protagonist’s plan.

“Did you look it up or…” He was already checking the extranet.

“Extranet says the Sorcerer is played by Rachel Wall,” he said. “Not sure if I believe it.”

They made it through the next scene and were into an extended blaster fight before they had more questions.

“I don’t know,” Ashley said, leaning forwards and resting her forearms on the back of the chair. “Shepard’s record says she was on the other side of the galaxy when this was made.”

“Maybe,” he said.

“But…I don’t know,” Ashley said. “The actress the Alliance uses only kind of looks like Shepard. And she has a different voice. This sounds like Shepard. If Shepard was an evil wizard.”

“You say that like she’s not,” he said. He’d already had that particular discussion and it didn’t matter what Kaidan said on the matter. Shepard was Vader, not Revan.

“I don’t think she’s that b…” she added. “Oh come on! That’s not how you aim…”

“Don’t question it,” he said. “Not worth it.”

“Maybe if we had another opinion.” Ashley scanned the rest of the mess, which was somehow next to empty. She turned around and caught sight of Garrus and Tali heading out of the elevator. “You guys busy?”

“Just finishing up something with the Mako’s targeting algorithms,” Garrus said.

“The new gyroscopes should smooth things out on rough terrain,” Tali clarified. “Now we just have to wait for the calibration sequence to finish to check it.”

“Got a minute?” Joker asked.

“Sure,” Tali said. “What do you need?”

“Long story short,” he said. “My sister sent me a movie. The bad guy looks like Shepard. Want in?”

“What kind of movie?” Tali asked.

“A bad one,” he said.

“That can’t be Shepard,” Garrus said, sitting on the table and twisting his head in a way that couldn’t be comfortable to watch the vid rather than finding another chair.

“I don’t know,” Tali said. She took a rag out of her tool belt and wiped some sort of grease off of her hands. “How old is this movie?” She glanced at her Omni-tool. “This was made after she was in college. Maybe she did it for money?”

“Shepard went on scholarships,” Ashley added.

“Shepard likes money,” Joker said.

“More than her pride?” Garrus asked.

“Shepard really likes money,” he added. His multiple requests for a different chair had been turned down. He even used her ridiculous color coding. The fucking lumbar support might actually kill him.

“What kind of costume isthat?” Tali asked, cocking her head to the side.

“Wizard robes.”

“I mean, she’s a sorcerer, but…”

Garrus left during a boring bit for snacks. He didn’t miss much while he was gone. Worse than simply being bad, this movie was boring. For all the promises in the plot summary about space combat, it spent more time with the Designated Protagonist in various jail cells.

Around the start of the third act, the door to the medbay slid open and Liara came out holding her tea mug.

“Hey,” Ashley said. “Liara, you busy right now?” Joker paused the vid.

“Not at the moment,” she replied.

“We’re watching a movie,” Tali said. “Want to join?” Liara flipped the water heater on, then rolled a chair from the other side of the table.

“Before we start this,” Joker said. “What do you think of Commander Shepard?”

“I think she’s a very capable and intelligent woman,” she replied.

“Do you think she’d made a good wizard?” he said.

“Sorcerer,” Garrus corrected. Ashley shot him a look that plainly said, “nerd.”

“What do you mean by…”

Joker pressed play.

“I will fry your organs in the primordial fires of the storm!” the Maybe Shepard shouted, throwing CGI lightning at the Designated Protagonist. “You cannot escape…” The Designated Protagonist dodged and threw the magic laser gun.

“I do not think this is Shepard,” Liara said. “It says that Severina was played by Rachel Wall.”

“Yeah, but she doesn’t sound like she does on the adds,” Ashley said.

“We need another opinion,” he said, rubbing his temple. “I’m bringing in the big guns.”

“No,” Ash insisted. “We’re not doing that.”

“But I have to know,” he said.

“It’s not worth…”

“It’s not Shepard,” Liara insisted.

“How do you know?” Garrus asked. “The actress moves just like Shepard. Not all the time, just for a step, and only when the camera’s not really on her, but it’s there.”

“She wouldn’t degrade herself like…”

“She does like money…”

“I don’t think Shepard knows how to shout…It’s kind of freaky…”

“She was four systems away…”

“The butts match.” Everyone turned to look at Tali, who was picking her way through a baggie of dried fruit. “What? Everyone was thinking it!”

“Ten packs of omni-gel says this isn’t Shepard,” Ashley said.

“I’ll raise you fifteen,” Garrus said.

The shouting and debate were too much and they weren’t getting anywhere. Couldn’t tell if it was Shepard or the look-alike and this had to be settled.

“The Alliance uses this actress for…”

He patched himself into the coms. They were settling this damn it! “Kaidan, we need you in the mess.”

The group went silent in shock, but Kaidan got along with Shepard the best. Joker would dare say they were even friends for some incomprehensible reason. If anybody onboard could tell if this was Shepard or a very good impersonator, he was the best choice.

While they waited, the Designated Protagonist laid siege to the Space Warlock’s very poorly defended asteroid castle.

“You remember that movie I told you about?” Joker asked, waving Kaidan over to them when he finally decided to respond.

“The one your sister’s making you watch?” Kaidan asked.

“Check this out,” he said, gesturing to the empty chairs across the table. “Tell me what you think.”

Kaidan watched with a mixture of confusion and fascination while Maybe Shepard’s plans were thwarted by the Designated Protagonist. It took only a minute for him to reach a verdict.

“Not Shepard.” Most of the crew thought Kaidan looked and acted like a human sweater vest, but he’d played poker with the man. He had a good bluff when the situation called for it, but he faint set of his jaw was a dead giveaway.

“You sure?” Joker asked. He scrutinized Kaidan for any more evidence that he knew more than he was letting on.

“Pretty sure,” he said. “She was on the other side of the galaxy when they made this.”

Joker rolled his eyes. If Kaidan did know something, he wasn’t telling them.

“Maybe we should ask Shepard what she thinks about this,” Liara suggested.

“Shepard can never know about this,” Joker insisted.

“Shepard can never know about what?”

He and Kaidan nearly jumped out of their chairs. Garrus did jump off of the table, nearly crashing into Ashley’s lap. Tali gasped upon seeing the woman leaning back against the counter, pouring fresh coffee into her mug.

“Joker found an old movie Commander,” Liara said. He glared at her, “Traitor.” “One of the actresses looks remarkably like you.”

“Oh?” Shepard put back the coffee pot and strode over to the table. Steam rose from her mug and he could feel the heat on his left ear as she stood just a little too close to catch the last few moments of the scene.

Shepard rubbed her temple, shook her head once, and said in the most resigned tone even he’d heard from her, “Goddamn it Rachel.”

“So, just to confirm, this isn’t you,” Ashley said, helping Garrus back to his feet.

“Rachel Wall. Alliance uses her for adds sometimes,” Shepard said, shrugging and taking a sip of her coffee. “She’s an…” Shepard searched for an appropriately diplomatic descriptive word, “…actress.” That was far too generous an assessment. “Met her once on a shoot.”

“Was it weird?” If he didn’t know Kaidan better, he’d think he was teasing the Commander.

Shepard raised an eyebrow in mild irritation and droned, “Very.”

Shepard scanned assembly, searching her databanks for any potential rule violations. He could almost hear her brain going, “System processing request. Searching Alliance regulations.” For some reason, he always imagined her brain sounded a lot like the Normandy’s computer.

Upon coming to the conclusion that they were not out of order, she said, “As you were,” then stalked out of the room.

Fortunately, the crew had the common sense to wait until the Commander had left the mess to start exchanging money.

X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X

Joker didn’t get the cockpit to himself often. He really wasn’t supposed to be without any kind of support, but he could manage for the ten minutes his copilot was in the bathroom without the ship blowing up. Hopefully. You never knew with an experimental, prototype drivecore. For all he knew, it could have a thing against Tuesday.

They were currently en route to Xawin, at least an hour until they hit the relay, then an additional three to enter orbit. If his calculations were correct and the Normandy jumped to the right system, instead of splicing themselves with an asteroid. Which they were. This ship was amazing. Some of the pilots he was training had issues with the steering, but they just didn’t know the tricks yet. They didn’t know how to talk to it, but he knew that if you asked just the right way, the Normandy would dance.

He pulled up his flight plan again on the holomap, then adjusted a trajectory to account for relay traffic. He overlaid the relay’s projected output with the most current projection of the system’s debris field. Should be safe, but never hurt to double check. He had to make all this look easy after all.

Couldn’t let people think he worked. That rumor gets out and it’s all over for him.

Joker was just closing out of the projections when he realized that his co-pilot had been gone longer than she should have been. He glanced over to check, and saw Shepard standing with a hand on the armrest of the co-pilot seat, staring out at the starfield.

“So how’s the view?” he asked. Her whole reappearing act was beginning to lose its shock factor. It was never as impressive as she thought it was anyway.

“You will be lost in the dripping sands of time,” she said. “The Space Warlock will imprison you forever in a crushing prison of ruin and death until the great cold draws upon us, freezing all in its path. And though you may strike me down, my power shalt curse you meddling kids from beyond the grave! And with my last breath, and all the great and dark power bequeathed to me, I doth curse you with the entropy of the universe, bringing slow ruin and death upon you and your family.”

“What was…”

“They cut my death monologue,” she said. Her face and voice were nearly flat, but he caught a faint hint of disappointment.

“Why are you telling me this?” he said.

Shepard smiled like a wolf. “No one will ever believe you.”

He blinked and she was gone, but he didn’t care. He leaned back in his chair, mindful of the weird, not actually helpful lumbar support, folded his hands behind his head, and thanked Hillary. And Joker smiled because whatever Shepard thought that would achieve, it didn’t matter.

He knew. And there was nothing she could do about it.

[rreader]

Hello love, could i ask you a Bruce Banner x Reader fic, please? Where maybe there's some angst and stuff like that but then everything goes well? Or you can choose how to end it, if it makes you feel more comfortable!❤️ I absolutely adore the way you write and your blog in general, so i wondered if you could give our smol scientist more love, he deserves it. Thank you a lot, I'll be here waiting while I read your stuff❤️ Forgive me if you find any english mistakes, it's not my first language💔

Pairing: Bruce Banner x ReaderFandom: MCUWarnings: mentions of attempted suicide

Summary: You’re the personal psychiatrist of the Avengers and have a session with Bruce Banner, after he tried to kill himself once more.

A/N: wow, this is.. dark. like, this wasn’t my original idea for this story, but I just watched some bruce banner vids on youtube and this is what happened afterwards. don’t worry, it does have a nice ending, though! also, your english is great, don’t you worry babes fandoms page)

                                                          *****

“MisterBanner?” you kindly smiled at the man, sitting on the far end ofthe room, staring out of the window. When he heard your voice,however, he turned to face you. “Please. Come in..,” you openedthe door a little wider and waited for him to enter your office,before closing it again and making your way over to your desk.

“Ireally don’t think it’s necessary for me to be here, Doc,” he satdown across from you.

“Attempted suicide is a pretty good reason to see a psychiatrist, if you askme,” you opened the file and started scribbling down some notes.

Hedidn’t say anything, simply stared at you and sighed.

You’vebeen working with him and the other Avengers for a little over a yearnow, being their personal psychiatrist in matters that others of yourfield might run from.

Butthese people needed more help than they led on and you weredetermined to provide it, in any way possible.

“So..do you want to tell me what happened?”

“Why would I?”

Outof all the Avengers, Bruce Banner had always been your hardest case to crack.

Youknew that he was suicidal, but also knew that whatever method he would try,wouldn’t work.

Andnow, after what felt like ages, he had tried to kill himself once more, even though you thought he had finally accepted this part of himself that he hated so much.

“Bruce,”you leaned back in your chair and placed your elbows on the armrests, your hands flat on your belly, studying him intensely. “Iwill not pretend to understand what it’s like to change into theHulk, but tell me why you hate it so much. You help so many people,day in and day out, whether you’re the Hulk and do it inadvertently,or as Bruce Banner, an insanely clever doctor, who can do things thatother scientists and doctors only dream of.”

“He’sdangerous. I’M dangerous. An abomination that shouldn’t even exist,”he said, with so much spite in his voice. He turned his head to lookoutside the window again and only turned around, when you got up fromyour desk and walked over to a shelf with books and pictures.

Youcarefully picked one up and handed it to him, when you were standingnext to him a couple of seconds later.

“Thisis my younger sister. Haley. She just turned 19 last month. Clever,young girl… very driven. She’s going to Harvard, plans on becoming aNeurologist some day,” you sat down on the chair next to him, notopposite of him, like you were supposed to.

“That’s nice, but whyare you telling me this?” 

“Rememberthe battle of New York? When you killed that big Chitauri?”

“Not something you forget..”

“Mysister was there.. She was celebrating her 18th birthdaywith her friends..,” he looked up from the picture to look at you,but your eyes were focused on the photo. “My parents and Ithought it would be a great present. And she seemed to have a lot offun. And then.. then the news started to come in, about an alieninvasion in New York and none of us were able to reach her.”

Brucegulped, but kept quiet for now and let you finish the story.

“Wegot a call from the hospital a few hours later, that my sister wasthere with a broken arm and a concussion. We got into the car, drovethere and you know what the first thing was that she said?” you finallylooked him in the eyes, your own shimmering from the tears that werewelling up in them. “’It was the Hulk. He stopped the Chitauribefore it could mow down the building we were in.’”

Yousoftly placed your hand over his and smiled at him.

“Yousaved my sister and so many others that day. They’re alive, becauseof you. So many people are. So you might think of yourself as anabomination, but to my sister and.. and to.. to me,” you softlyrubbed your thumb over his hand. “You’re a hero.”

Helet out a breath, he had held unconsciously, then he tried his bestto smile, but it was clear that he didn’t mean it.

“Imight’ve saved someone that day, but I’ve killed many on others.”

“Andyou think you’re the only one? How many people do you think that Thorhas killed? Natasha? Tony? Even Cap..,” you put your other handover his as well, so you were holding his in both of yours. “Youcan’t save everybody. And I know that, even when you’re the Hulk, youtry to do so. Maybe accidentally, but you do. You do save them. And Iknow that you’re not the same Hulk you were five years ago. You’remaking process every day to control him. And one day, you’ll be ableto control him fully, if only you work on doing so.”

Somehow,you ended up sitting so close next to him, that your faces werealmost touching.

Youhad to remind yourself that he was a client, when you felt him move alittle closer and could feel his breath on your lips.

Youcleared your throat and got up, smoothing out your skirt, thenwalking back around the desk, before it would get awkward.

“Howdo I control him?” he asked after a little while.

“It’sall about emotions. Think about love. About somebody or somethingthat you truly love. Maybe about the smell of someone’s hair, or the waythe person smiles. Think about a place that makes you feel likehome.. anything that makes you feel loved.”

Itactually made a lot of sense.

Lasttime he had changed into the Hulk, when he had been fighting Thor on Asgard,he had stopped himself from killing him, by thinking about the one personhe just couldn’t stop thinking about for months on end.

Aboutyour kind smile, about the smell of your perfume, about your voice, about the way you sometimes looked at him and he secretly hoped that it was more than just a professional relationship.

Andwithout even realizing it, he had changed back into Bruce Banner.

“Thankyou, (Y/N),” he nodded, taking all your words into consideration.

You made some more notes, before putting down the pen and getting up.

“I’dlike us to have a session twice a week from now on.”

Henodded and got up as well, then you walked him over to the door,but before he opened it, you placed your hand on the doorknob.

“Youare a great man. And the world isn’t ready to lose you yet.”

Helooked up into your eyes.

“Theworld? Or someone specific?” his voice was full of hope.

Youblushed a little, but smiled nevertheless. You had to remind yourself that, for now, he was a client. Maybe one day, he wouldn’t be anymore. And when that day came, you’d be the first to call him.

“Perhapsboth.”

“I’llkeep it in mind, then. I promise.”

Hestill hadn’t accepted the Hulk as a part of him and he probablywouldn’t for a long, long time, but for now, it was enough knowingthat he was able to help people as the Hulk. And he didn’t want tostop helping people just yet.

[genesisarclite]

Constants and Variables

Summary: in the early days of Morgan’s Neuromod testing, a young woman is assigned to his office as part of her everyday stocking rounds. Things start out fine enough, until the trials begin. Explores the world, consequences of Morgan’s testing (and losing his memory), and what happens when someone on the very lowest tier of the company gets way too close to the VP. The response to this (admittedly somewhat slow start) will determine if I post the rest of it.

note: started as a freewrite, got way too long. enjoy mah first Prey fic.

note 2: yes the title is from BioShock Infinite. it fits, it sits.

Aislinn has a name she doesn’t particularly like and a job she isn’t fond of Earthside, so when she sees an ad to stock inventory on Talos I, she jumps at the opportunity. It’s space, after all, at the heart of mankind’s current and greatest endeavors to be… well, amazing. Better than this. Anything is better than this. Pretty as Earth is, she had no extended family that cared, one deceased parent, and a half-handful of friends who wished her well.

The tour was only supposed to last eleven months. Or so.

Aislinn is twenty-nine, a mess of brown hair touched with faded blonde highlights atop her head, a mishmash of cultures and quirks that comes from growing up in the Dublin metropolitan area. Everyone says space isn’t the way, that it’s too expensive, but it’s better than driving a truck hundreds of miles every week and refilling the raw materials the Operator printers used. Three-dee printers were a wonderful, awe-inspiring, awful invention she both loved and loathed.

The TranStar employees look at her sidelong – at her practical patchwork of elbow-length sleeves, sturdy pants, and utility belt – but only the women, in their perfectly primped perms and sleek silk skirts, refuse to go too near her. She doesn’t mind too much, because HR is friendly enough, the interview goes well, she waits two months, and then she’s shipped off to zero-gee training and two months’ worth of “life aboard Talos I” seminars that give her weird dreams.

She’s given a suit and told how to wear it, check for damage, and that it must be worn at all times on the station. She asks if that includes sleep. The trainer stares at her for a bit. He never really answers.

Then she’s up in space, traveling to Moon Orbit, to the bustling and beautiful station that is Talos I, shuffled in with a bunch of other trainees, and lost in the crowd.

For three days, she studies maps, steers clear of the GUTS, listens to hilariously perky training vids, and stares out in space at the sparkly ball of Earth, dangling on its invisible thread in the cosmos as it swings slowly around the giant ball of fire that held everything in place. She’s among the lowest-ranked on the station – back of the line, last to be called, moving about without being seen, one of a hundred faces never seen by the suits.

She drinks cold-brewed coffee with a metallic taste and vaguely hears some scientist make an off-color joke about coffee mugs and tentacles.

Then the station ambience gets a little quieter, sometime in the spring of 2032 – time doesn’t mean much out here in the infinite blackness of the cosmos – and there’s chatter of important scientists coming for a visit. She stocks in the Yellow Tulip, trying to ignore the scent of a cracked bottle of brandy as she tosses it in the recycler, while a barmaid chatters and a woman sits, trying to focus on something. More scientists. Always more scientists, back and forth, Earth to Moon to station, always talking about procedures and experiments and volunteers.

Eventually, sometime in March or so, she finds out it’s the president and VP of TranStar, the Yu brothers, both brilliant scientists, who are greeted with sleepy excitement by the round-the-clock staff. She’s in the crowd, trying to see, but has to climb on a small box to get a look, being short, and none of the higher-ranked employees bother to move for her, not even to let her get the briefest of glances, so she fights for it.

There’s two men, one slender and the other quite… stout. Both walk with their heads up and backs straight, but the stout one walks like he owns the world – which he does, she supposes – while the slender one moves with a swagger she doesn’t really like, as if he’s daring the observers to gawk. Neither looked at all bothered by the people around them, some of whom were practically bouncing on their toes.

They were roughly the same height, the stout one with stern features but a calm expression, the slender one with fine features but a very cool expression.

Neither of them looked around much as they walked.

Aislinn got bored, eventually, and slunk off to go back to stocking. Word on the street was that they’d be here a while, so she’d get plenty of chances to see them.

Maybe, anyway. Hopefully.

She’d never meet them, though. That she knew. They were important scientists and the masterminds of TranStar, and she was a lowly stocker who went unnoticed by everyone except a few fellow blue-collar employees and ever-chatty Operators. If she did happen across them, it’d be by accident, not design.

-

The lobby is a nice place to relax, with its breathtaking views of the galactic arm and Sagittarius A* region, of the Moon’s dusty sphere glittering below and the Earth gliding in the sea of stars. It always smelled like flowers if the groundskeepers just finished trimming, and it functioned like a solarium, settling over her like a warm blanket after an hour in a somewhat-defrosted freezer or too many hours close to the cooling fans.

It had been a little over a month since the brothers had arrived.

In the TranStar exhibit, she took up janitorial duties out of boredom, sweeping and dusting, making a circuit, while a groundskeeper hummed to himself and snipped off bits of dead plants. Nothing went to waste, not even dust, as it was bagged and taken to be recycled. Both resources and space were immensely valuable here. Talos I, for all its eye-popping size and architectural beauty, was still a station spinning in the cosmos, and though it got some resources from the Moon, it had to be self-reliant to some extent. There were gardens and hydroponics everywhere, most of them in the Arboretum – one place she had not yet been – that grew everything, including fruits that tasted vaguely of meat.

The groundskeeper poked his head inside as she finished up. He was taller than her, with spindly arms and legs and a mop of black hair that never seemed to sit right on his head. “Hey, did you hear?”

“No.” She didn’t pay attention to station gossip.

“Mikhaila about drunk herself off her bum last night,” he told her. After a quick glance around, he ducked lower and dropped his voice to a near-whisper. “She and Morgan got into a–”

“Morgan?” Aislinn waved her dustpan at him. “There’s three Morgans on this station, Matt.”

“Morgan-Morgan. Morgan Yu. The only one anyone talks about?”

“Oh, yeah, him.” Though she tried to ignore the talk, there came inevitable moments of hero worship from at least a dozen employees, and she hadn’t been able to escape the occasional bout of swooning from a woman who happened to catch a glimpse of him. “And… why should I care?”

“Because everyone’s talking– you know what, you’re no fun.” He pouted and shook his head. “Can’t you pretend to care for five minutes?”

Again, she waved the dustpan, closer this time. Matt made a face and scurried away.

The Mikhaila-Morgan gossip lasted about two days, before the man himself apparently told someone off when he overheard it, and the talk stopped cold.

Stocking rounds brought her to the station’s inner circle – Teleconferencing, Human Resources, the like. The drink machines had to be restocked every single day in these places, and that wasn’t going into the volunteer quarters with their million kinds of snacks. She didn’t mind, though. It was work, she was paid reasonably well for it, basically set her own hours, and had managed to snag a room with a view that she relaxed under, in naught but her skin, enjoying the warmth of the sun, after a long day’s shift, while reading a book.

Jason was the secretary outside Morgan’s personal office. He was missing when she first brought up a box of goods, and as she put items away in seemingly random cupboards and drawers, she stumbled across his computer password – one written on a sticky note, in clear violation of station rules, and was so blatantly hero-worshippy that she very nearly took a picture before dutifully throwing it away.

Though she spent twenty minutes puzzling out where everything went, the door to Morgan’s office never opened, and no one ever came her way.

She stocked in peace, collapsed the box, and threw it in the first recycler she found.

Two days later, she brought another box up for restocking. Jason was there this time, head in one hand while the other fiddled with the keyboard on his desk. “Aislinn, right?” he said suddenly, as she made her approach. He completely butchered her name, but then, the spelling didn’t exactly make it obvious. “Nice to meet you!”

Aislinn paused. Jason was her height, carrying a layer of pudge all over his body, culminating in round cheeks and large, shiny eyes. He seemed harmless enough. “And yourself,” she said, extending a hand to shake his, and he took it, heedless of the dirt on her glove. “Lookin’ anxious.”

“No, no, just harried and– that accent, it’s lovely, where’s it from?”

She smiled. It was true, she hadn’t heard anyone else with an accent like hers yet. “Ireland.”

“Oh, beautiful, just brilliant. I love it. Can I call you Ash? And can you say more words? It sounds so lovely.”

Despite herself, she smiled broader. Jason was harmless, giddy as a small child. He might have lived a sheltered life, and what harm did it do to talk more so he could hear the accent he obviously adored? Besides, he was far too happy to turn down, at least for now.

“I’ll be sayin’ as many words that’re needed, Jason,” she told him. “Now, did you need something?”

“Mmm, yes. You brought two boxes, right?”

She blinked. “Uh… I did, yeah. Requisition orders requested two this time.” At her feet sat one of the boxes; she lightly kicked it with her foot. “You know why, don’t you?”

“I do! One of them–” He stood up so fast, his chair skidded back. For a man his size, he sure did move fast on his feet. “That one, with the pink label? That goes in his office.” Jason put particular emphasis on the pronoun, as though it were mystical, and smiled goofily to punctuate it.

It took a moment to sink in. “Wait, Morgan’s? I can…” Thinking of the chitchat of the other employees  and what she had seen of Morgan the day he arrived, she felt her skin crawl. At her side, the fingers of one hand clenched. “That a good idea, Jason? Maybe it’s better you go in, huh?”

“Oh, no, no, no, it’s fine! It’s totally fine, it’s compl– it’s fine.” He grinned at her and nodded.

She wasn’t so sure. “And, where does it all go?”

“He has a fridge, and a– it’s a mini-fridge. Not like a big fridge. It’s over by the fabricator.”

Morgan had his own personal fabricator? She sighed quietly. Of course he did. Why wouldn’t he have his own everything? He was the snob at the top. He could requisition anything he wanted. “Alright, then,” she muttered, and picked up the box to carry it into the office.

It was a spacious one, overlooking the lobby where a few people meandered, with plush red carpeting and bronze-colored trim everywhere she looked. Despite reminding herself not to snoop, she still made a detour around his desk. A few odd sculptures, a potted tree, some abstract paintings on the wall, and a portrait of what she could only assume was the Yu family – an old man, an old woman, Alex, and Morgan. None of them looked particularly happy, with Morgan looking perhaps the dourest of all.

“Big happy family, huh?” She shook her head and made her way over to the kitchen – or whatever would be the proper term for it. There was indeed a mini-fridge and a cupboard, both of which looked as though they didn’t belong and had simply been shoved wherever. Both were completely bare but for a few meager scraps she tossed into a box after she emptied it, bound for the recycler (one of which was directly to her left, but she wasn’t about to start toying with the VP’s stuff).

Nearly done, she heard the entrance door slide open and the sound of footsteps hitting the carpet hard enough to sound loud even to her ears. The sound of someone muttering under his breath made her freeze for a moment before resuming her task. The sooner she got done, the better.

Then he was standing over her; she looked up and craned her neck back, perturbed by this sudden invasion of her space. “Who are you? The stocker? Are you assigned to my office?”

Something about the way he spoke made her uneasy. Morgan looked high-strung, exhausted, and his stance was all business. He scowled down at her, but his eyes were blazing, and she wanted nothing more than to bolt for the door like he had set her tail on fire.

Opening and closing her mouth, she fought to keep her voice steady. “Yes, Mr. Yu.” Collapsing the last container, she laid it in the box with the others, smoothed out her uniform, and looked at him. “If you’ll excuse me, sir, I’ll be out of your way in just a moment. Pardon me.” She tucked the box under her arm and speed-walked out, though she felt his eyes on her back all the same, even when the doors slid shut.

Two days later, she received another requisition order to restock his office. Considering the meager amount she had put in there to begin with, it didn’t really surprise her, but she still had to do a double-take, wondering how he had managed to go through it so quickly… and why.

And why didn’t he just come out and get his own? Why was she his keeper?

She returned Jason’s greeting and entered the office to find the VP already present, but too busy at his terminal, pecking away at a keyboard, to pay her any mind. Every so often, he spoke lowly into a transcribe, then went back to his typing, so she ignored him and went about her duties. The box contained a little more food than last time – bags of tomato jerky, a few cans of iced coffee, boxes of wheat biscuits… and then, at the back, tucked in a little box no larger than her hand, a few scraps of meat jerky. Real meat jerky.

Aislinn, having gone a long time now without the taste of real meat, lingered a moment, holding it between her fingers. The box was light, trimmed in gold filigree. For a moment, she entertained the thought of opening it, just to smell it, before remembering who ordered it and filing it away in momentary disgust. She didn’t like Morgan, she didn’t like Alex, and come to think of it, no one else really did, either. Even the women who swooned didn’t dare get too close.

She wondered if he even had any friends.

Collapsing the containers and throwing them in the box, she tucked it under one arm and moved to leave before she could intrude on the man’s buzzing mind.

“Excuse me.”

Startled, she nearly dropped the box as her foot skidded across the carpet, stopping her but nearly making her trip. Biting back a reflexive curse, she turned to face him. Morgan was still in the same position, hands poised over the keyboard, but looked steadily at her. The look was one of supreme focus, as though he studied her.

“I’m aware someone was assigned to stock my office, but Jason failed to tell me who you were.” He had a firm, polite, direct manner of speech that felt as cold as the station’s hull, and just as unreadable, a startling change from just two days prior. “Can you tell me your name, miss?”

No, she didn’t like him at all. He felt to her like a puzzle of shifting geometric cubes made of cold metal, far from the warmth of the sun, moving and changing, but on the surface, it all looked the same. He had been upset before, but now, he just sat there, as though nothing had happened. It bemused her.

“Aislinn,” she said, enunciating clearly, and nodding.

“Aislinn, you say?” He spoke it perfectly, as though he had said it a thousand times. “Well, it’s good to meet you at last, then, Aislinn. I apologize for my behavior when we last met. I had encountered… let’s call them ‘difficulties’, that day. I’m sure you understand if I don’t elaborate.”

It bemused her how calmly he apologized, but at least he had done it. “Of course, sir.”

“If you’re going to be coming here, you may as well call me Morgan.” He raised one eyebrow. “Pardon me for asking, but would you do one more thing for me, before you leave for your next rounds?” When she nodded, he continued, “In that box, there should have been an order of cold-brewed coffees. Please bring one to me.”

She set the box down and did as he asked, finding it already quite chilled despite the short amount of time. She handed it to him, and he took it from her without flinching.

For some reason, she had come to think that he would be somehow repulsed by the lowly workers of Talos I, but then she remembered he was a scientist. Getting his hands dirty came with the territory. What was a dusty, slightly grimy stocker compared to a dish of tardigrades and exotic cosmic materials?

She found his cool politeness and inability to be read obnoxious, regardless.

“Thank you. I expect you’ll return later in the week. I have other matters to attend to now, if you’ll excuse me.” He went back to his terminal, and she left to throw the box and containers in the recycler.

-

Two days later, she was indeed back, carrying two boxes and stocking his office with one. Every time, he asked for one of the cold-brewed coffees – a caramel-flavored one, without fail – and when he caught her inquisitive look one day, he only told it helped him concentrate, and the caramel reminded him of something from when he was young. He didn’t elaborate, and she didn’t ask, leaving as quickly as she’d come.

Two days later, she returned. Morgan wasn’t there, and she left in the space of less than ten minutes.

She left one of the coffees on his desk, though, just in case.

Two days later, again and again, for nearly two weeks… the pattern repeated, but the circumstances did not. She found him in a poor mood again one day, but the other times, he was pleasant and polite, though cool as ever, sometimes ignoring her altogether, sometimes telling her anecdotes about his day, or his work, or some nugget of his past.

And without meaning to, she starts peeling back the layers.

He told her offhand about a blend of tea and coffee he favored, which he had kept meaning to order, but simply forgot. He told her about Alex breaking his arm in a blind fury, then moping about and helping while it set. She found out that he liked the tiny pink flowers a groundskeeper sometimes left on his desk – a mess of clippings, tucked prettily into a jar, which he didn’t seem to mind. He told her about ostrich meat, expensive to ship to the station, and how he longed for even a shred of the stuff, a concoction he missed from his time on Earth.

Then other factoids crept in. How he always wanted to play the piano. A little about Mikhaila, the station’s chief engineer. When his middle name slipped out one day, that gave him particular pause, causing him to look at her as though she were something to be studied again. What had been ten-minute trips had turned into fifteen, twenty, and thirty, as she dawdled and listened and tried to solve his ever-shifting puzzle.

Bit by bit, the pieces took on unique colors and shapes. Under his cool stare, she still felt anxious, but it wasn’t scary anymore.

“Hmm.” He tipped his head. “Well, I didn’t intend that to happen, but it did. Tell no one else of it. There are some small things that are best left as… personal secrets.”

Why his middle name – a perfectly innocuous one, she thought – would be a secret puzzled her, but she had long learned not to question him too much. If he wanted to divulge information, he did it freely, and when he didn’t, the answers he gave were as cryptic as possible, and left her thinking for hours.

She couldn’t say she liked him, but at least she had managed to find a man beneath the ice.

Then the day came when she found him standing at the office window, staring down at the lobby in silence with his arms folded. “Ah, Aislinn, on time as always,” he said as she arrived. “You had mentioned coming from Dublin. Is it as lively and beautiful as everyone says? I’ve personally never been there.”

��Guess so,” she said, still not comfortable calling him by his name – not a man like this,. Somehow, it felt disrespectful to do such a thing. “I liked it, sure, but I liked space more. Dublin’s fine, but there’s too many bars and not enough sober men.” She cracked a small smile, then looked hard at him. “What’s ailin’ you?”

“I have been undergoing some… tests. As the one person who visits most often, you should know what’s going on.” He shifted his weight. “Tomorrow, my memory will be wiped clean, and a new round of testing will begin. That day you found me in a poor mood? I had just undergone the first trial.”

It took a moment for her to realize what he was saying. “Uh… can… can I ask what sort of testing?”

He looked at her, studied her a long moment, and nodded, before turning back to the window. “Shouldn’t hurt. Jason, Alex, and a select few already do – those who interact with me daily, those who need to know. I’m assuming you’ve heard about neuromods? Well, those.”

Aislinn had to stare at him a bit. Removing neuromods would remove his memories? She had heard of such a thing, but never gotten specifics. Did it remove all of his memories, or just up to a certain point? Her family had never been able to afford neuromod treatments – what info she did have was completely secondhand.

And Morgan could pass on so much information in a few short sentences, his cool and polite tone and gentle cadence both as cold as hull metal and fascinating as the distant stars. She had yet to see him smile, though, or hear his tone shift much from this one. The ice had cracked, but the core still hid away. Now, he sounded completely unaffected by the idea of losing his memories. It bothered her to hear.

“That means, the next time you come here, I won’t know who you are.”

“Do you…” She frowned. “…lose everything?”

“No, only back to the point the neuromods were installed. But because I met you after I began the first trial – you, and Mikhaila – I won’t remember either of you. It will be as though all that time… all this time never happened.”

Slowly, she nodded, still trying to absorb it. “Aye, then.”

“You know enough that you could convince me you knew me.” He looked at her again. “Shouldn’t be a problem for you. I plan to make the next trial much shorter – days instead of weeks – so as to make this easier on everyone.”

His expression was as unreadable as ever, even when she looked hard at him. “Did you get anything from the testing so far, though?” she said as she moved to begin her stocking duties.

“I can run further and process information much more quickly. Math seems to be a second language, savant-level. Increased strength. Beyond that, I have gained little else.” Unlike most people she knew, this man rarely sighed, or shifted his weight, or made any sort of sound he didn’t completely intend to make. “This next round… I am hoping for something useful.”

“Maths isn’t useful?” she said as she tucked away the coffees.

“This level of math is plenty useful, but it isn’t anything I couldn’t learn on my own with more dedication,” he told her. “All of this is completely random. Next time, I might have learned how to be a master gambler, or… play the piano.” He lowered his arms. “It doesn’t matter. Tomorrow, we resume testing, and I expect you’ll still be coming in.”

She wondered what it would be like. “To do my duties as always, sir.”

“Please, Aislinn, after a dozen times asking, you should know.” He tipped his head. “Call me Morgan.”