#if i had more time id have cleaned it up but i like how loose it is and i dont want it to get stiff soo

[vbecker10]

Easily Distracted (Part 2)

Part 1 / (Part 3 in progress)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x female reader (Y/N) - reader has ADHD

Summary: You've recently graduated from the SHIELD Training Academy and you couldn't be more excited or more nervous to start working as a probationary agent. You study and train, trying every way possible to prepare yourself for your evaluation in three months but your ADHD threatens to derail your progress, and so does Loki. Captain Rogers sees you struggling to succeed and steps in to help you in any way he can.

Background: Female reader has ADHD (Attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder) with the following symptoms: inattention, hyperactivity, difficulty listening and finishing tasks, losing important things frequently, becoming distracted or sidetracked easily, trouble following instructions, difficulty staying organized and managing time

There is a knock on your door and you laugh as you get up, "Either the pizza guy is getting a big tip or-"

Your voice cuts off when you open the door and see Steve Rogers standing in the hall of your apartment building. "Hello Y/N," he says, his smile is warm and friendly but it does little to calm the nerves that suddenly spread through you.

You panic and without thinking, step back into your apartment and close the door abruptly in his face. You can hear his surprised laughter through the door as you press your back to it and your mind races. Captain America is at my apartment! Why is he here? How does he even know where I live? Am I in trouble for quitting? Agent Hill said I could drop off my ID badge and tablet by the end of the week, maybe they decided I'm too forgetful and sent him to pick them up? Oh my God... I'm wearing my freaking pajamas in the middle of the day! I must look like an unemployed loser! You look down at the shorts you've had since college and a loose fitting, slightly bleach stained t-shirt, cringing with embarrassment.

He knocks again and you respond, "Yeah, just a minute."

You run into your bedroom and throw on a pair of jeans but when you go to grab a shirt from the closet, your focus shifts. Without realizing it, you begin to pick up the few pieces of dirty clothing that missed the hamper last night and place them inside it. You know there's no reason why Steve would come into your room but you find yourself needing to finish the task now that you started it. When grab your hoodie from the back of your desk chair, you see a single sneaker on the floor by your dresser. Turning in a small circle, you sigh deeply when you can't find the other one. "Where did you go?" you mumble as you wander into the living room searching for the missing shoe while holding its partner.

Steve knocks again, this time a bit louder to remind you that he is in fact still standing in the hall outside of your apartment.

"Shit," you swear under your breath as you turn back into your room. You toss the single shoe back where you found it and put on the first shirt you grab when you reach into the closet. Pulling you bedroom door shut, you head back to the living room.

You pause briefly to tidy up the coffee table, brushing off any crumbs onto the floor and grabbing your empty coffee mug. Once in the kitchen, you open the dishwasher and groan when you remember it's full of clean dishes you have yet to put away. Steve knocks again and you nearly drop the mug in the sink in your rush to answer the door.

"Hi," he says, a smile still on his face when you pull the door open. You force a smile in return, trying to hide how frantic you feel. He puts his foot just inside the threshold to your apartment, "Just in case you try to slam the door on me again."

You laugh nervously and play with the hair tie on your wrist, spinning it and snapping it against your skin. "Sorry about that," you say without offering an excuse for your behavior.

"Can I come in now?" he asks, his mood still unaffected by your anxiousness.

You notice he's holding your pizza and shrug as you joke, "Sure, since you brought lunch."

He laughs but it does little to hide his embarrassment, "Yeah, the delivery guy was pretty determined to get a selfie with me."

"Is that why you were knocking so loudly?" you giggle at his sudden awkwardness.

He closes the door behind him, nodding, "A little bit, yes."

You realize you owe him for the pizza and grab your wallet from your bag. Pulling out a twenty you ask, "How much does Captain America tip?"

"Don't worry about it," he reassures you, waving your money away with one hand as he puts the food on your coffee table. "I'll send in a expense report, this is a working lunch," he says and you stare at him, unsure if he's joking or not.

"So... you're here on official SHIELD business then?" you ask when he takes a seat on your couch, flipping open the lid to the pizza box.

"I'm here to find out why you quit," he answers as he looks up at you.

"Cause I was going to fail out," you sigh and sit heavily next to him.

"It's only been a week," he takes out a slice from the box.

"Oh, we need plates," you get up, ignoring his comment and heading into the kitchen. You open the cabinet, grab two plates and a few pieces of paper towel since you forgot to buy napkins for the second week in a row. You place the items you gathered on your counter and open the fridge to get drinks then go back into the living room.

Steve tilts his head when he looks at the can of soda in his hand. "What?" you ask, trying to figure out what you did wrong. "Sorry, I have water too if you want," you point towards your kitchen.

"You went in for plates," he reminds you.

"Shit," you get up again to retrieve them from the counter with the paper towels. "Sorry," you apologize for what feels like the hundredth time since he arrived at your apartment.

"It's fine," he smiles. He opens his soda, takes a few sips then returns to your previous conversation. "Now, why did you quit?"

"I told you, I was failing," you shrug, looking down to avoid making eye contact with the super soldier.

"You were struggling, that's not the same thing," Steve clarifies.

"I guess it's not but Loki-" you start to explain but he cuts you off.

"What did Laufeyson do?" his mood shifts, even the slightest hint of a smile gone from his face.

"Nothing, he just told me the truth," you fidget with the tab on your soda can until you pop it off and toss it on the table.

"Tell me exactly what he said," Steve puts his plate down on the table and wait for you to begin.

------------------------------------------------

"You will not succeed here," Loki interrupts you and your mouth hangs open at his harsh statement. "I have seen how easily distracted you are, how confused you get with even basic instructions. You are late to everything, you still wander this building utterly lost and you cannot focus."

"I can do better," you tell him, your voice shaky as he lists all the flaws you've been trying to manage. "I made it through the academy, I can do this," you say, trying to convince yourself and the God of Mischief.

"I don't believe that is true," he shakes his head and before you can argue back he continues. "Is the jet simply supposed to wait to take off for a mission while you wander aimlessly through the Tower looking for the correct floor? How many times should your commanding officer be expected to explain your orders because a noise distracted you during a briefing? Will you be as careless turning in your paperwork and mission reports as you are with your research assignments? What's to say you will not lose classified documents as easily as you misplace your ID badge or cell phone?"

You pull at the hair tie around your wrist, twisting it anxiously as Loki asks question after question you can't answer.

He moves away from the desk, taking a step forward to close the small distance between you. You glance over his shoulder towards the closed door then back into his cold eyes. "You are going to be the reason missions fail and agents get hurt or killed," he states, no hint of doubt in his voice. "You should not be here and you know it."

------------------------------------------------

"Laufeyson said that to you?" Steve asks when you finish.

You nod, remembering every word in detail. The conversation had replayed over and over in your mind all night, keeping you awake.

His jaw tightens as if he's trying to keep from saying whatever he's thinking. After a moment of silence between you, he sighs deeply, "He shouldn't have spoken to you like that. If he had a concern or issue with your performance, he should have come to me and I would have discussed it with you at your review next week."

"Another week wouldn't have made a difference," you shrug. "And now you don't have to be the bad guy who fired me." Steve opens his mouth to say something but you shake your head and keep talking, "I barely made it through the academy because of my stupid ADHD. Loki is right. I'm not sure why I thought the probationary period would be any easier to handle." You groan and put your face in your hands.

He furrows his brow and asks, "What's ADHD?" Then he quickly adds, "You don't need to tell me if it's too personal."

"No, I-" you pause, a bit stunned by his question. "Sorry, I just don't think I've ever met anyone who didn't know what that was."

"You apologize a lot," Steve notes then shifts his focus back to his nearly forgotten pizza.

"Sorry-" you cringe and he smiles, shaking his head a bit. "Force of habit I guess," you shrug and pick up your plate but you're not interested in eating. Apologizing was something you did frequently as your ADHD often left you feeling as if you did something wrong or forgot something important.

"I don't think I've ever talked to someone who hasn't heard of it but I guess since you're from a really, really, really long time ago maybe it wasn't a big thing then," you bite your lip, trying to think if you've ever had to explain it to anyone before.

"Two reallys was enough, thanks," he laughs.

"Right, sorry," you apologize without thinking. Steve lets out another short laugh, his hand resting momentarily on your knee which causes you to look away quickly in an effort to hide the blush that creeps across your cheeks. He needs to stop being cute and nice and ridiculously good looking because I am having a hard enough time trying not to have a crush on him as it is, you think.

"You were saying..." he motions for you to continue and you nod.

"Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, ADHD," you clarify the acronym for him and he nods.

"It sounds familiar but I'm afraid I don't know much about it," Steve admits.

"Most people think it's just being easily bored or when you distracted by something shiny but there are a lot stereotypes about it. People even claim they have it as a joke or because they don't know how serious it can be and honestly that gets really annoying," you tell him.

"How does it affect your training?" he asks.

You fidget with the hair tie around your wrist again, your eyes focusing on the floor by your feet. "In my case it causes hyperactivity which makes it hard to sit still or listen to someone for long periods of time. It also makes me forgetful. That's why I still get lost getting around the Tower and I always seem to have misplaced or lost something. You've seen how easily I get distracted or sidetracked doing even simply tasks." You point vaguely towards the kitchen to remind him of the plate situation but don't look up to see that he nods. "I'm late so often because I have issues managing my time, I set alarms but it doesn't always help. It's a daily struggle to keep myself organized at home and at work with all the assignments and training courses."

Steve sits quietly and when you finish you lift your head, anxiously waiting for him to agree with Loki's assessment of you.

"You have to deal with all of that and still passed the academy?" he asks and you nod. "That's really impressive."

"Impressive?" you can't help the confused expression that spreads across your face.

"The academy is designed to be difficult physically, mentally and academically," he starts to explain. "That fact that you succeeded with the grades you received while dealing with all of these issues, yeah I would say that was impressive."

"You know what grades I got?" you ask in surprise.

He smiles, "Who do you think reads all of the applications?"

"Right..." you nod, feeling dumb for forgetting that's literally part of his job.

"Y/N, do you want to be a SHIELD agent?" he asks.

You nod quickly, "More than anything. It's all I wanted to do since high school."

"Then you can't quit," Steve says gently. "I know it will be difficult but I am willing to help you any way I can. I want you to succeed here."

"But what about Loki?" you can't help but remember the look in his eyes when he told you that you would cause missions to fail.

"He doesn't know as much as he thinks he does," Steve says. "Besides, don't you want to see the look on his face when you prove him wrong?"

You laugh, "Yeah."

"Then it's settled," he stands up and you get up as well. He walks towards your door and you follow him closely.

"Well not really," you tell him. "I did quit, I sent in all the paperwork."

"I asked Agent Hill not to process it until I spoke to you," he smiles. "As far as anyone knows, you're taking a sick day."

"Really?" you ask, unable to hide your excitement.

He nods, "You better be on time tomorrow."

"I will be, I promise," you smile and hug him tightly but when his arms don't hold you back you let go quickly. With an awkward laugh you say, "That was totally inappropriate right?"

He laughs and shakes his head as he opens the door to your apartment, "I'll see you bright and early Y/N."

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚 Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

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[bedoballoons]

Genshin Men headcanon? With a cute Obedient Wive/Girlfriend.

I don't want to put it in too details so I'll just keep it short and simple, basically it's a family thing where the wife have to be obedient with their spouse, but they can break following the spouse order if the spouse request is unreasonable, dangerous and etc. :)

Also can you add Cyno? Thanks

Awe housewife vibes! Also thank you for making it simple for me! Sometimes I find it difficult to understand longer requests so I really appreciate it, I hope you enjoy <3

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿─

{༻~Obedient wife~༺}

CW: Just fluff!, established relationships and reader uses she/her pronouns! (Pet names: Lyney: Mon chérie and my love, Kazuha: Dearest, Neuvillette: Mon amour, Cyno: Beautiful)

(Includes: Lyney, Kazuha, Wanderer, Neuvillette, and Cyno!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney:

Lyney walked up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and hiding his face in the crook of your neck, his eyes lingering on the table set with your delicious cooking, "Thank you my love for preparing this for everyone...it all looks perfect." He placed a gentle kiss against your skin, making your face blush that perfect shade of pink he adored so much...he always knew how to get you flustered, "Anything for you dearest, speaking of which, do you need your clothes ironed? How about your hat, have you organised the tricks in it recently?" You awaited his response eagerly, wanting to do the best for your wonderful husband.

He chuckled softly, placing another sweet kiss on your cheek, "Mon chérie, you've done everything I could ask for, right now the only thing left is to spend time with me while we wait for my siblings...if you'd like to of course." You turned to face him, kissing his lips as if the answer were so obvious...cause it was, "There's nothing else Id rather do."

𑁍༄Kazuha:

"Dearest, could you bring me my sword? Make sure to be careful, even a sheath cannot always contain the blade...I don't want you getting hurt." Kazuha glanced at you from his workstation, flashing that soft sweet smile that always made you swoon and gesturing to his sword not far from you. Even though you didn't know much about weapons, you liked helping him, following his instructions and being the most perfect wife you could be.

You carefully retrieved his sword, watching him with admiration as he sharpened the edges and repaired the handle, by the time he was finished it looked like new again and you were in awe. "You look amazed..., I promise this isn't as impressive as how I handle the blade. " He gently moved your hair away from your face and kissed your forehead, hoping to impress you even more later on.

𑁍༄Wanderer:

You loved Wanderer with all your heart, you enjoyed pleasing him with home cooked meals, a clean house, but most of all you enjoyed his little requests he'd make. Most of them when the two of you were alone, he'd ask you to sit in his lap and talk with him about his day, or he'd ask for many kisses because he was truthfully addicted to them at this point.

Only issue was, every now and again when the two of you were in public and he was feeling particularly jealous he'd request...more forward things, not that consent was a issue, the two of you were married after all, but with so many people around...you had a hard time giving him what he wanted.

"Come on...just one extra deep kiss, I want to make sure everyone knows you're my wife, especially that annoying server who kept eyeing you." Your face was more than a little blushed, the server and most of the customers watching the two of you like you were modern day entertainment...but there wasn't anything wrong with what wanderer wanted...so you couldn't just say no...

"Very well...one more kiss..."

𑁍༄Neuvillette:

You set a stack of documents on Neuvillettes desk, straightening out any other loose papers for him and taking his crystal clear cup so you refill it with some more water, "Neuvillette, can I get you anything else?" He looked up from his work, his eyes instantly filling with warmth when they met yours...sometimes he got so wrapped up in his cases he forgot how gorgeous and sweet you were, "Mon amour...I apologize for not saying thank you earlier...I was to focused on my work. You've done more than enough for me, I appreciate it immensely...in fact I'm not sure what I would do without you."

You blushed at his kind words and leaned in to give him a kiss, his hand intertwining with yours while the other touched your cheek, "I love you Neuvillette."

"I love you too."

𑁍༄Cyno:

Cyno held your hand softly, walking with you around the many shops in Sumeru city, keeping a eye out for any wrong doers while you picked out fresh food for dinner. This time you held up a water melon for him, wondering if he'd like it for dessert... "Hmm what about this for desert honey?" He looked at the fruit for a moment, smiling in a way you knew meant he had a joke he wanted to tell you, "I'd have to arrest you for a melony if you don't make that for desert...get it? Melony, felony?"

You giggled happily and reached over to grab some more vegetables, holding up a carrot with a mischievous smile, "I get it...but I'm afraid I do not carrot all for your joke." You winked at him and he had to stand there for a minute to recuperate, he was actually dazed from falling for you so hard...all over again, "I...I love you so much. Never leave me..."

"Your wish is my command my love."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚Have a nice day*⁠.⁠✧

[cobaltperun]

Lost (17) - Satellite

Tara Carpenter x female Reader

Summary: To anyone on the outside, and to Tara’s friends, you were Tara’s fierce protector, the MMA fighter who’d take anyone on for Tara. The Guard Dog, as Amber called you. You had no idea you’d have to protect her from people who claimed they loved her. It didn’t matter. As long as you and Tara had one another there was nothing you wouldn’t be able to survive.

Story warnings: Scream violence, family issues, trauma, angst, certain sensitive topics

Word count: 5.4k

Story masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

-That's why we won't back down we won't run and hide-

Telling Chad you’d be fine without him, that he should focus on protecting Mindy and Anika in case anyone went after them was a right thing to do, but you still had no idea what to do. How to find Ghostfaces targeting you this time, or how to avoid them, you were stuck at the moment.

But, as the three of you left the hospital you saw her… Gale, like a reporter shark that she was, smelled blood and found you before any other reporter could.

“I heard what happened, are you okay?” she walked up to you, at least she didn’t have her equipment or anyone shoving a camera in your faces, with her.

“Gale, I swear,” Sam had no patience to deal with the woman right now, frankly, neither did you and Tara, but you couldn’t deny that maybe, just maybe you needed as much help as you could get, even if that help was Gale.

Gale immediately raised her hands in surrender. “Truce, okay? I’m- I’m here for whatever you need,” she said that, but, well, you’ve seen Gale going back on her word before. Maybe that was being too harsh, she didn’t go back on her word when Ghostface was on the loose, but she did break an important promise.

“Just like last time,” you said, already trying to spot a cab that would take you back to the apartment. Or anywhere else really. Staying near the hospital could put your friends at risk.

“Okay fine, off the records, okay?” she offered and well, you were stuck and all four of you knew that.

Sam sighed, nodding slightly. “Fine. Thank you,” she agreed.

Gale glanced at Tara.

“Nope! That punch was beautiful, and you will not be getting an apology for it!” you interrupted before Tara could even begin to utter an apology she didn’t mean anyway.

Gale chuckled and shook her head, expecting as much from you and Tara. “Guess I should be thankful you weren’t the one punching me,” she sighed.

“Exactly!” Tara grinned and lifted your arm up. “She packs a punch,” she rolled your sleeve up and patted your forearm.

Mere seconds later you saw a cop car stopping and Kirby and Bailey stepping out, and that’s how the six of you ended up following Gale’s lead and going to a former movie theater turned shrine for Ghostface.

You felt sick. Angry that someone could actually worship these monsters. So many people died. Everyone in this theater, aside from Bailey, was attacked at least once. You kept an eye on others, on Gale as she passed by Dewey's photos or her own books. On Kirby and Bailey as they focused on whatever grabbed their interests. On Sam as she went and touched the glass case holding Billy's mannequin. On Tara as she went over to Sam.

You were stuck observing crime scene photos from when Amber attacked Tara. You saw Tara's wounds, you knew minute details of each and every scar she had. You never saw the photos of her house from that night. It looked even worse than it did when you went to clean the house, it looked fresh, the blood was still not dry. You clenched your fists, wishing you shot Amber, you wished you could go back and finish her off instead of forcing Tara to do it. How many times did you wish for nothing more than for some kind of instinct or a precognition that would allow you to stop Amber before she got to hurt Tara in the first place.

You saw Tara going outside and were about to follow her when your phone rang. This time you checked the ID and saw it was Thomas. His timing really was the worst. With a groan, you answered the phone.

"Hey, Y/N, sorry to call like this, but I heard you didn't go to the gym last night," he opened up with that right away.

"Yeah, sorry, something came up," you didn't sound sorry at all, you'd abandon the gym a hundred times over if needed.

"Look, I know these past two weeks have been tough and I may have asked too much of you-" you really didn't feel like having this conversation.

"I'm busy right now, we'll talk later," you hung up before he could even respond to that. Since your phone was already in your hand you tried to call Susan one more time, but, as it always did these past two days, it just went to voicemail. "Fuck!" you cursed and stuffed your phone in your pocket.

"Troubles?" Bailey asked and you just now realized you were alone with him.

"Are you asking or questioning me?" you still didn't know where the police tracker came from. There was no way you were trusting anyone other than Tara and Sam, and, as much as it annoyed you Gale, as far as not being a Ghostface went.

"Just asking, sorry if I'm overstepping," he raised his hands apologetically and backed away.

You nodded. "You are overstepping," you said and tilted your head in the direction Tara and others went. "After you."

He sighed, but otherwise remained silent and complied with your wishes. The two of you found Sam and Gale in the midst of, from what you could see, burying the hatchet.

"Where's Tara?" you asked right away, honestly hoping you didn't all walk into a trap set by Ghostface.

"Kirby is with her, they went upstairs, wherever that leads," Sam told you and you tried not to panic. Kirby survived a Ghostface attack herself, surely she wouldn’t be a Ghostface, right?

"I think I have a plan how to catch these fuckers," Bailey said and you desperately wanted to agree with the plan. The sooner this was over the better.

~X~

You absolutely hated the plan Bailey had. And you were vocal about it. So, here you were, at the park, next to the van Kirby would trace the call from with Tara trying one last time to get her to change her mind. It was reckless, it was unnecessary, and you were sure a bit more of thinking would give you a better plan.

"Tara, please, at least think this through," you pleaded, already certain you were wasting your breath, but you couldn't just give up.

"I thought it through, Y/N, I'm staying with Sam," Tara leaned against the van with her arms crossed over her chest. She refused to look at you, but you saw the furrow of her brows, you saw her biting her lower lip, and you knew she was getting angry.

You’d still take her being angry at you over her being in danger. "It's dangerous, at least let me come with you," if you couldn't get her to stay safe, then you might be able to convince her to let you come with her and Sam. Sure, Bailey explicitly argued that you being there could discourage Ghostface from attacking, and you could see his logic, but you still wanted to stay by Tara’s side.

"It won't work if you're there. You can fight them," Tara huffed, clearly getting even more frustrated as you kept arguing. The two of you had been going back and forth on this ever since Bailey proposed the plan and she decided she wouldn't let Sam do it alone.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, already feeling a headache over this whole plan. And they weren't even out in the open yet. "I don't want you to get hurt."

Tara narrowed her eyes at that. "And it's fine if Sam gets hurt?!" she raised her voice and tightly gripped her left biceps.

"I didn't say that," you took a step back, trying to cool your head at least a bit.

"No, but you think I could get hurt, so you think Sam could get hurt and you're not trying to convince her not to do it," Tara took a few deep breaths.

"You and I both know I'd much rather take Sam's place, but no, Ghostface is after her so anyone else won't do!" you yelled, what little cool you managed to regain fading away way too quickly for your liking.

"Like you left last night? Right? Like how you chose to put yourself in danger even after you saw there was a tracker on your car?! Do you even understand how worried I was?!" somehow this was reminding you of the night you told Tara you were retiring from MMA.

"I fucked up, okay?" you spread your arms for a moment then let them drop at your sides. "I thought they'd try to finish me off first and figured I could use the opportunity."

"Yeah, you thought putting yourself in danger and possibly fighting someone that defeated you before was okay, but this isn't?" Tara asked incredulously.

"So, your solution is to go ahead and do something equally reckless? Is that what you're saying, Tara?" you had no idea how you weren't already shouting. You felt like screaming, but you still didn't shout, if for no other reason than because you didn’t want unwanted attention on the two of you.

"She's my sister, Y/N! I'm her backup, and if it comes down to it, we'll keep each other safe!" Tara yelled and, perhaps to avoid arguing further began walking toward where Sam was getting ready with Kirby and Bailey.

"Yeah, because being with Sam sure kept you safe every time Ghostface was involved!" you just snapped and watched as Tara turned around.

She was glaring at you. "Don't you fucking dare, Y/N," she warned, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

For once you glared back. "Am I wrong?" you challenged. As long as you could move and you were there no one, not Amber, not Richie, not whoever these Ghostfaces were, managed to touch her, let alone hurt her. Sam didn’t have the same track record.

Tara reached you, anger evident in her eyes, and then, as if she just made that decision at that exact moment, swung her palm toward your face. You caught her wrist, entirely unimpressed with how telegraphed the attempted slap was. "Don't ever try that again," you let go of her wrist and climbed into the van, shutting the door behind you, you missed the way Tara looked down at her palm, horrified by what she just tried to do.

You slumped down and absentmindedly touched the scar on the right side of your jaw. Once again you called Susan, once again you were left in silence. You looked at the last text exchange you had with her, the word fun popping up for some reason. Maybe you should take that vacation the moment this all ends, or at least the moment everyone heals up. Maybe spend a week or two in Sacramento, only you and Susan, and then come back to New York with her for Thanksgiving.

Maybe taking that small break from one another's company would be good for Tara, after all this wasn't the first fight in the past few days, and that one was before you even knew Ghostface was back. Sure, you talked it out and kissed it better, but this one just brought it back to your mind.

You only opened your eyes when you heard the doors opening because you wanted to be sure Kirby was the one coming in.

"You look awful," she commented.

"You look like it's none of your business," you replied, not really in the mood to discuss this with her.

"Someone's cranky," she just shrugged, not bothered by your reaction and you chose not to respond.

Too much time passed before Ghostface finally called, bragging about being a step ahead. And he was. He went after Gale. Bailey got in the van and turned the engine on.

"Where are Tara and Sam?!" you jumped to your feet when you saw he was alone. Your blood pressure probably skyrocketed as the worst possible scenarios came to your mind.

"They stole my car!" he exclaimed angrily.

At this rate, you were going to have a heart attack. "Who's driving?!"

"Tara," that girl was going to be the death of you.

"Are you crazy?! Tara can't drive! How are you even a cop you incompetent fuck?! How could someone just steal your damn car?!" a rage-fueled part of your brain cynically told you this was to be expected. That you should have realized Tara was too reckless to consider her own safety even back when she stubbornly convinced you to take her with you when you went after Sam back to Woodsboro after she just barely survived two attacks and had a broken leg. That you should have realized it when she first disappeared and went to a party with complete strangers.

When you finally reached Gale's apartment building you saw Tara and Sam sitting in the hall and you ran up to them.

Tara looked up when she heard you, or rather the running, and she got up, rushing to meet you halfway, only to stop, as if suddenly remembering the last interaction you had. You took a deep breath and just pulled her into a hug. She quietly sobbed into your chest as you held her.

"Is Gale still alive?" you asked softly and relaxed when Tara nodded.

"She was seriously injured, but she should be fine," she told you when you released her, your heart cracking a bit when you saw the pain in her eyes when you pulled away. With a hand on her back, you led her back to where Sam was still sitting.

"Hey," you squeezed Sam's shoulder, hoping to comfort her a bit.

"Hey, sorry we left you with Kirby and Bailey," she apologized and placed her hand on top of yours for a moment. You just nodded and sat down with Tara. There would be a better, more appropriate time to tackle that reckless decision.

Soon enough you saw Danny running in. "Hey, I came as soon as I could," he ran up to the three of you, looking mostly at Sam.

"Did you?" Tara challenged and he just looked at her, perhaps knowing better than to add fuel to the fire.

"More importantly, what now?" you chose to save him from Tara's anger.

"Maybe he gets to win this time," Sam's words made alarms go off in your head as you turned to look at her.

"What?" you demanded, not quite sure if it was just your exhaustion catching up to you, or if Sam actually just said that.

"He wants to punish me," she explained, on the verge of tears. "Me," she stood up and faced Tara and you. "So maybe I let him. I'll just give myself up."

You couldn't believe what you were hearing and for a split second, you wondered if Sam lost her mind. "Fuck that! Who do you think you are, huh?!" you got up and stormed away from Sam. "Giving herself up? Unbelievable!"

"If this is what it takes to keep you safe, it's worth it," the only reason you weren't yelling that she was out of her mind was because she was crying. Sam was crying and you rarely saw that.

You couldn't convince her, so you'd leave it to Tara and maybe scold her once this was all over, because not only was Sam important to you and your friends you did not want to see Tara dealing with losing Sam once again.

Tara stood up and approached Sam. "No, we're not doing that, Sam. You went back to Woodsboro to protect me. Every single day you make the decision to protect me. None of us would even be alive if it weren't for you. You have to let us protect you this time," Tara told her without a single hint of doubt in her words.

"No," Sam said weakly.

"Yes," Tara said firmly and from the corner of your eye you saw her pulling Sam into a hug. "We're a team, remember? I can't lose you, Sam, it feels like I just got you back in my life."

That was definitely going to work. The question remained though. What to do next?

"He's gonna keep coming after us," Sam pointed out while hugging Tara back.

"We could use that, though," Tara said and somehow you just had the feeling she was about to suggest something reckless before she even spoke up.

The plan? That involved Bailey and Kirby? Lure Ghostface into the movie theatre they used as a shrine and execute them. When Tara said she intended to execute Ghostface you looked at the ceiling, took a deep breath, and just accepted it.

'At this point, the best I can do is be the fucking bodyguard,' a moment later you wondered when was the last time you cursed this much. "Right, off to the murder shrine, where we'll definitely have the upper hand," you couldn't help but grumble.

~X~

You drove to the murder shrine, in your car, just you, Tara, Sam, and Danny. No public transport. Nope. none of that. You were not about to be suspicious of every stranger on the train.

When you parked outside the theatre you saw Kirby waiting for you.

"I talked to Bailey, let's get you all inside," she went right down to business, but Sam abruptly turned around and faced Danny.

"Not you," she said.

"What?" he asked.

"Don't trust anyone, remember? We don't know you, not really," she told him.

"I don't know, Sam, we could use extra muscle," you still weren't sure you could defeat that Ghostface in a one-on-one, let alone with at least two more on his side. And why did the three of you even bring him along then?

"Y/N is right and you know me," Danny tried to convince her.

"You're not Woodsboro. I'm sorry," Sam wasn't listening.

"It's okay. It's okay, I get it. Just be safe, okay?" he kissed her cheek.

Sam nodded. "You too," with that, she turned around and the rest of you followed, leaving Danny behind.

"Good call," Kirby said as the four of you entered the theatre.

~X~

Things just kept getting better and better, Kirby was the only one with a gun, the only one with any weapon, really, and you only had one exit, that could be blocked fairly easily.

Perhaps seeing the tense look on your face prompted her to do it, but Tara took your hand and pulled at it, frowning when you didn't comply. "Come with me for a minute?" she requested, looking softly into your eyes.

"Now? You want to separate from Sam now?" you couldn't help but ask.

"Please, Y/N," you could never resist her for long. Thus, you complied, letting her lead you outside of the shrine and into the hall where you figured tickets used to be sold. "You're stressed," she said, not quite getting into your personal space, but still remaining close to you.

"Can you honestly blame me? I'm one bad thing away from just breaking down, Tara. I'm just tired," the first time this happened you had moments to rest, you slept, and you felt safe at Susan's place, for the last twenty-four hours even when you weren't in constant danger you were either arguing with Tara or trying to reach Susan.

Sure, you slept yesterday, but that was over thirty hours ago at this point and you were really feeling the stress that accumulated over the past two weeks.

"It'll be over soon," she said, reaching up to touch your cheek, but stopping mere inches away from it. As if trying to slap you suddenly put an invisible barrier between you that was only temporarily broken by the adrenaline caused by what happened to Gale.

For once, you chose not to lean into her touch. "Let's go back to Sam," you said, and Tara nodded, lowering her hand. She walked in front of you, and you went back to the shrine to see Sam running toward the doors you just walked through with a knife in her hand.

You were immediately looking around, trying to see if she was running from someone, but somehow you couldn't see anyone.

"It's Kirby! She made this whole theatre a kill box, for us!" Sam explained rapidly.

"What?" you asked, but it made sense. The police tracker on your car, only Kirby having a gun, locking you here... Why would she wait though, and who was she working with? You knew there were at least three Ghostfaces this time, and it didn’t seem like Kirby had any definitive allies.

"Bailey is on the way here, but-" Sam continued as you went back to the middle of the shrine.

"Stay back to back," you interrupted her and the three of you stood in a circle, making sure you had each other's back.

"Wait, wasn't it Bailey's idea to use you as bait?" Tara reminded Sam.

"And Kirby refused to let Gale come with us," Sam said, frantically looking around for any trace of Kirby.

"Unless he figured that's what would happen. Just to be sure, how about we don't trust either of them?" you suggested, and she was alone with Tara, but she would have to be stupid to just try and kill Tara before.

Tara nodded and you felt her brushing her fingers over your hand.

You took and squeezed her hand reassuringly. "Ghostface appears you stay still, you hear me. Don't make sudden moves," you could pull either of them behind you and counter-attack at any time, you just needed them to stay calm.

You heard footsteps coming from your left, where Sam was and you moved, getting between the masked attacker and her just in time to catch his fist and punch his face. "Fuck running, I'm fighting you head-on," you said as he stumbled back, from the grunt of pain you figured this was probably the one you stabbed last night.

The second one jumped out, but they didn't attack, choosing to circle the three of you instead.

"Sam, Y/N," Tara was close to panicking and you knew why. The third one. He still wasn't there, and you didn’t have that much luck one on one, let alone now that there were three of them here with you.

"I need you to be ready! You ready?" Sam asked she had her back to Tara's while you moved to stand closer to the front of her while not blocking her direct line of sight. Sam even handed Tara a brick, which was good, Tara needed something to even the playing field a bit.

Tara took a deep breath. "I'm ready," she took another deep breath. "Come on motherfuckers!" unnecessary, but as long as she was calm and ready. Or at least ready.

Shooting made both Ghostfaces take cover and you turned to see Kirby, bleeding from the side of her head, and more importantly with a gun in her hands.

Somehow, you relaxed, if she wanted to shoot you, she probably would have done it and used the element of surprise.

"Maybe it's not you after all," you said and turned to Sam. "Come on, what's the point of keeping cover at this point? Your aim really sucks though. Not even one bullet hit them," you said, you'd still keep your guard up around her, but for now you figured you could tentatively trust her.

"My head is bleeding, Y/N," she deadpanned.

"Meh, excuses," you replied, though Kirby having a gun really eased some of your worries.

"Kirby, get away from the girls!" Bailey rushed in, with his gun raised.

"Whatever you think, I'm not the killer!" Kirby quickly denied any involvement in this mess. "I don't know what he's been telling you, but don't listen to him!"

And then the third Ghostface, the one you were the most worried about, came up behind Bailey.

"Behind you!" Kirby yelled only for Bailey to shoot her.

"Great job, you three," Bailey said as the three Ghostfaces stood by his side.

'Right, this is happening. Four of them, just great,' you thought as you fully expected Bailey to point his gun at the three of you.

"You?" Tara asked, and you shared her disbelief, after all Bailey had no reason to go after you.

"Yeah, of course, it's me. Frankly, I expected more from you after what you did to us," he declared, as if this was reasonable, as if they should have expected him to be the Ghostface.

"Us?" Sam repeated, as puzzled by his statement as you and Tara.

"Let me guess, Quinn?" you figured since he was saying 'us' maybe his daughter was involved as well.

Indeed, the Ghostface to Bailey's right took the mask off, and sure enough, it was Quinn. "Hello, almost roomies. Too bad I couldn't resist messing with you when we met, but it was a good way to not be on the suspect list," she said.

You narrowed your eyes, realizing that this might actually be worse, because this now meant anyone could be a Ghostface, that they no longer played by the rules and skipped getting close to you and becoming a part of the friend group.

Then the Ghostface to Bailey's left took off his mask. "Mindy was right, it was easy to juke the roommate lottery!" Ethan exclaimed. "All I had to do to get close to you was room with a conceited, condescending alpha, literally named Chad. Fuck, I can't wait to kill him!" he pointed the knife at the mask he was holding. "This was your grandmother's Sam. Nancy Loomis. Really runs in your fucking family, doesn't it? Speaking of family..."

"Wait for it," Bailey chimed in.

"My name isn't Ethan Landry, is it dad?" and Bailey just laughed at that, as if there was actually something funny.

"Dad?" Tara's eyes widened.

"And then they tell Sam it runs in her family," you sighed as Ethan and Quinn began pacing around once again. You remained focused on the only remaining masked one.

Bailey explained his plan, saying how they were counting down to Billy's mask. Jason and Greg, bodega, Sam's therapist, your shared apartment, that was four, with four of them there were now eight masks. The idea that one, Amber's mask, was still missing worried you. Was Gale the ninth mask? That didn't make sense, no mask was left behind and it was the last attack, not the first as the countdown should imply.

Convinced that the fourth one was content with watching you began walking around Tara and Sam, keeping light on your feet, and making sure Quinn and Ethan were on your opposite sides the whole time. This way you could react to either of them attacking. They wouldn't be allowed to touch either Tara or Sam, not with you right there.

"I'm gonna need you to put it on," Bailey offered the mask to Sam, but she slapped it out of his hand.

Ethan went in to slash her, but you stepped in, making him halt before he could reach you. "How are the wounds?" you taunted and just as it looked like he was about to back away the fourth one spoke, still using the voice changer.

"Step back, she'll just hit you again," he warned, actually sounding amused, and though it was clear Ethan didn't like that, he did step away.

Their plan was insane, though it was working out well for them so far. They ruined Sam's reputation, courtesy of Quinn's efforts, and as Ethan explained it further Quinn made a mock attempt to stab Tara.

You once again moved in time, regardless of her intentions, and pulled Tara behind you.

"Truly a guard dog," Quinn mocked and that's when it all clicked for all three of you.

They weren't Amber's family, but... "You're Richie's family," Sam realized.

"Yeah," Bailey said slowly, just for a moment showing the pain of losing his family.

"Ding, ding, ding!" not liking the enthusiasm Ethan had when he said it you stopped between him and Sam, he seemed ready to lunge at you, but the warning he got before kept him at bay, at least for now.

"Now! It wasn't until I saw those photographs of what you did to him that I knew! I knew you had to die for what you did to him! You had to be punished!" Bailey yelled, angry at Sam for what she did to his son. You couldn’t say you blamed him, you wanted revenge for what was done to Tara and she survived. Even if Richie was the one who started it all, he was still Bailey’s family, so you understood. But you still weren’t about to let him, or his children hurt Tara and Sam.

"Real great parenting, by the way," Tara commented as she glared at the man.

"Shut your whore mouth!" Quinn screamed at her but didn’t attack knowing she had to go through you first. Ah, so she was the one that called you.

"And you? What's your deal?" you gestured toward the still masked Ghostface, interrupting whatever Bailey was about to say.

"You really should have figured it out by now. I get that you probably didn't want to consider it since I did help you out so much," he removed the mask.

Your jaw dropped slightly as you recognized Thomas. Honestly, you should have seen it coming just from how well the bastard fought. "What the fuck?" you couldn't help but ask. "Are you kidding me right now? Do you have any idea how bad it'll look when I end up putting 'Killed my employer' down as the reason for unemployment?" why was he even after you. Richie's family you could understand on some level, they were the bastard's family, but Thomas? Really?

Thomas actually genuinly laughed at that. "Trust me, that's the least of your worries, Y/N," he said and held up a paper bag for you to see. "You wondered where Amber's mask ended up?" the smirk on his face, the tone of his voice, it all made you feel unexplainable dread. "Take a good look," he opened the bag and turned it over, letting a very familiar pair of MMA gloves fall to the dirty floor.

Despite Tara's attempt to grab your hand you took steps forward, stopping right between Tara and Sam and the gloves at Thomas' feet. "Susan," your throat was dry when you said her name. This couldn’t be happening, she couldn’t be dead, but he took Zack’s gloves.

"Exactly, it's been four days now, just so you know why she hasn't been responding all this time," he was taunting you. He was amused by your failure to figure out what happened to Susan.

"Why?! What did she ever do to any of you?!" you weren't the one asking that, it was Tara.

You just stared at the gloves, barely even registering your surroundings. If anyone wanted to kill you, well, there wasn't a better opportunity than this very moment.

"It's simple really. Susan was the only one who'd always, no matter what, no matter what the other choice is, choose Y/N. Your friends won't, Samantha won't, not even you would Tara. It would hurt you, you'd never forgive yourself, but you'd choose Samantha in the end," he turned to you as Tara remained silent. "Parents? Oh, they really don't care. Zack and Susan? Dead. You can try to deny it all you want, but the only reason you are still alive is because you were strong enough to survive on your own. Twice now you were stuck with me, no one came to help. Your girlfriend put up a better fight to protect a friend than she did to protect you. You are alone, Y/N, and you threw everything you could have been for nothing. Quite frankly, what I'm about to do is a mercy kill."

You heard everything he said and you relaxed. There was nothing. No rage. No despair. No remorse. No sorrow. Nothing. Just an empty state of mindlessness.

"That's it," Thomas grinned, tossing aside his robes. Then his eyes abruptly widened. "Wait, Quinn!"

"Y/N!" you heard Tara and Sam's scream.

You glanced to your left and focused on nothing but the blade that was approaching you.

A/N: Here's a fun question, how much would Tara suffer if she had to choose between Sam and Reader?

Story masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

[theprettyarachnid]

gratitude (halsin x reader)

a/n: i’ve had this in the draft for awhile but i thought id post it also would you like a part two?

warnings: none

"Prove your loyalty to the Absolute!" The goblin yells while holding a branding stick. It had the symbol of the Absolute. You and your friends came here to rescue Halsin. He was the archdruid and there was a chance that he could rid the parasites that were squirming in your head.

You give a quick glance to Shadowheart who gives you a shake of her head. She's telling you to not do it. You look at the woman who is starting to give you a suspicious look. You need to rescue this Halsin and alive preferably.

You purse your lips before giving her your hand. You could feel Shadowheart's disappointed eyes staring at you. You scrunch your face up feeling the heat melt your skin while hearing a roar of goblins shout in approval. If getting branded to fit in meant you could rescue Halsin, you were willing to do it and you did.

The citizens of the Grove surrounded your camp in celebration of their new found freedom and your bravery. You were sat on the floor with a glass of wine watching tieflings and dwarves dancing to the loud music. You take a sip before you feel someone take your hand.

It was tiefling, no older than you, inviting you to dance. You smile while getting up. You couldn't really hear what she was saying because of the music and the other people laughing but she gave you a bright smile which you returned.

You both stumbled a little bit queuing laughter from the both of you. Everyone at this party had a little too much to drink but it was obvious no one cared about the headaches they will have tomorrow morning. The song ends and you and the girl are out of breath.

Before either of you can say something, her friends call her over. She gives you a somewhat flirty look and walks away. You smile, still catching your breath, until you feel eyes on you.

You turn your head and meet Halsin's deep eyes across the camp. Your breath hitches a little before you turn away and try to find Shadowheart.

The camp was quiet but you couldn't help groan in relief as you finally sit down at your tent. It felt like this was the first time you sat down in days. Your legs were exhausted and your back ached from cleaning up the party mess at camp. It wasn't a lot but it was still an inconvenience, another chore.

You stare down at your bandaged hand. You should probably take a look at it. You listen to your surroundings to make sure everyone is asleep before you slowly yet painfully unwrap it.

Jesus.

It was black and still had some loose melted skin at the edges. You can feel the disgusted look forming on your face. You look around once more before sighing. You get up and head over to the river with some fresh gauze in your good hand.

You gently collapse onto the grass. It was nice and cool by the river and the breeze felt nice on your skin. You close your eyes for a few moments trying to forget about the past couple of days. You're so immersed into everything that you don't hear the quiet footsteps coming towards you.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

"Shit!" You gasp when you hear a deep voice. You turn around and see Halsin who has an apologetic look on his face.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." He says with his hands gently raised up to his chest. "May I sit?" You nod with a smile while tapping the spot next to you.

For such a big man, he barely makes a sound

"I never got to properly thank you." Halsin speaks while looking out onto the river.

"You don't need to thank me..." You quietly say repeatedly pulling down your sleeve.

"Yes, I do. My people would not be free without your help and I would probably be dead by now, fed to spiders or left to starve in that cage." He says looking directly at you. You look back studying his features. He had years of wisdom carved into his face, crows feet from how many times he's laughed and smiled, and he has lines in between his eyebrows showing how much sorrow and frustration he has lived through.

You finally look away, unable to keep eye contact any longer, and look at the river. You could see the stars and your own reflection. You look... sad and tired.

"Does it hurt?" Halsin asks making you look up at him. You were hiding it with your sleeve so he couldn’t see it. Did he know what it was? That it was a symbol of everything he’s against? Everything your group is against?

"I'll live."

"That's not what I asked." Halsin says while slowly grabbing the gauze. You completely forgot why you even came to the river in the first place.

"I can handle it." You hesitantly say but for whatever reason you're giving him your hand. He flips your hand to see your palm but you can't help but form a fist. It hurts like all the Nine Hells combined but a part of you still didn't want him to see it.

"Whatever it is, I know you did it for the greater good." Halsin raises his eyes to look at you. They were a beautiful green. You stay quiet and look away as you slowly open your palm. Halsin looks back down and a silence falls between the two of you.

You couldn’t tell what kind of silence it was. Uncomfortable? Tense? Embarrassing? Whatever feeling it was giving you, you didn’t like it. You start pulling your hand away and look away from him in shame. He’s probably disgusted by you.

“I’m sorry you were put in a position where you felt you had to do this.” Halsin finally says and tears creep into your eyes. Why was he being so nice to you? You wanted to say something, anything, but if you did your voice would break and the tears would start falling.

More silence. You flinch a little as you feel the cold water against your burn. You would think it would feel nice but it didn’t. It hurt. More than you thought it would have. Halsin wraps his large hands around your burnt one before reciting something. You feel a bit of relief as a green light shines and slips between his fingers.

“It won’t make it go away but… it should help.” He says and begins to wrap it with gauze.

“Thank you.” You let out and slowly take your hand away. You let out a sigh and look out to the river again. “You’re right though.”

“Hm?” He asks

“The river, it’s beautiful.” You look at him and you realize the river isn’t the only thing that’s beautiful. Halsin is too and you feel your cheeks warm up a little. He smiles and looks at the river too.

“You always have to appreciate the little things especially in nature. It offers us so many things for free and asks for nothing in return.” You let out a quiet chuckle and smile at him.

“You’re a very calming presence, Halsin.” He looks at you and smiles.

“I’m glad, I try to be.” He laughs a little and you can’t help but yawn. You really were exhausted. “You should get some rest, Y/n.”

“It’s okay, I probably won’t be able to sleep.” Halsin grunts as he gets up and offers you a hand. “Thank you.” You give him a gentle smile and stand up.

“You’re welcome.” He returns your smile and Halsin starts to walk you to your tent. You don’t realize you’re still holding hands until you’re at your tent. You both laugh, yours more awkward while Halsin’s is more light-hearted.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” You say with a smile. You felt like you were going to drop.

“Yes I will.” Halsin says and turns around to walk to his tent. You go inside your tent and take off your shoes and your extra clothes. You lay down and you let out a groan. You couldn’t tell if it was out of pain or pleasure.

You stare at the ceiling of your tent and sigh. You couldn’t get Halsin’s kindness towards you out of your head. Nor his smile. It was so genuine and warm. You get more comfortable and close your eyes.

Although you have just gotten out of trouble, you already begin to sense another problem. One of the heart specifically.

[doodle-pops]

Dandelions

Amras x reader

Request: Right, so first is with Amras, can I get a fluff fic with him, like the one you posted a few weeks ago, the "puppy love" one, it was so cute and id love to read something similar with amras! - anon

Warnings: none, all fluff

Words: 1.4k

Synopsis: A soft moment shared between you and Amras amidst the hectic life.

Prompt: “Dandelions? I thought they were a weed?”

The gentle winds were blowing through the room, ruffling the curtains, and sending pieces of your loose hair strands flying across your face. With your mouth wide open, lightly snoring and your hair covering your face, your husband who was up at the time, was admiring your sleeping form and thought you to be the most beautiful person in the world. Leaning in closer, doing his best not to wake you, he moved a few hair strands so he could kiss your forehead.

As his lips came in contact with your forehead, you grumbled slightly and shifted to roll over onto the next side, now facing away from him. Smiling to himself, he shook his head while rolling on the bed and made his way over to the door to go to the kitchen. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes before he entered the kitchen, Amras yawned before he turned to the cabinet to gather the necessary ingredients to make you both breakfast.

Standing bareback in the kitchen, whisking away at the batter for the pancakes, he placed the bowl down to remove the eggs and sausages from the pan, he removed the pan to clean before using it for the pancakes. It didn’t take him long before the pancakes were finished, all he needed to do was wait for the muffins to leave the oven and breakfast was ready to be served. In the meantime, a smile graced his face as he remembered something to help brighten your day.

It wasn’t long before he finished his assignment and returned to the kitchen, holding a bouquet of flowers. Walking to the wares stand he picked two plates to place your food in while grabbing the jug filled with apple juice, to rest on the tray. After he had set the dishes on the tray, the muffins were ready to be removed from the oven.

Taking the tray and making his way back to your shared room, he noticed that your position changed, and you were now sprawled out in the middle of the bed, facing down. Placing the tray on the nightstand, he gauged your state before walking over to the windows and pulling the curtains apart, allowing for more light to evade the room. A loud groan was heard as the curtains parted, and turning his head to follow the sound, he saw you wriggling your body under the sheets and sticking your head under the pillow.

You weren’t much of a morning person. He knew this and still to your displeasure, he took the greatest pleasure in all the different ways he could wake you up, most of the time light was involved. If he wasn’t your husband, you would have taken him down for disrupting your sleep. Your sleep was important to you and you treasured it with all your heart, so currently you felt as though you were going to combust at the fact that it was interrupted.

During your grumbling and fussing, Amras stood there with his hands clutching his stomach doubling over while the other was covering his mouth stifling his laughter. Your reaction was golden. No matter how early or how late you went to sleep, no amount of sleep was enough. However, it was already one in the afternoon, and the morning was already over. It was way past time to eat, so you needed to get up.

Still laughing at your sleeping state, this time out loud, he climbed into the bed next to you and peeled back the sheets to reveal your head, “Love, it’s time to wake up. I made breakfast, well, lunch?”

Your hand shot out from under the sheets to cover his mouth, Unsuccessfully, you took a while before approaching his mouth, instead, his body received multiple slaps in the process as your hand travelled up to meet his mouth. He sat there taking in all the hits until your hand finally reached his mouth. He realized that talking wasn’t doing anything, so he moved his hands to travel under the sheets to tickle at your sides. You retaliated by hitting him some more while inching away from his fingers. His tickling was relentless, and he refused to let you return to sleep.

Determined to wake you out of your slumber, he crawled off the bed, moving over to the foot of the bed making you feel as though he had given up and decided to leave you alone. In reality, he was holding the sheets, ready to rip them off your body to get you up. Doing a countdown before taking it off, he laughed as he reached one and ripped the coverings off you, forcing you to shoot out of bed, fists balled up and ready to fight.

“Finally, sleeping beauty has arisen from slumber,” he spoke with a bright smile appearing on his face, happy with the outcome of his actions.

“Amras, come on,” you were kicking your feet, throwing a tantrum.

“I made breakfast, lunch, whatever you want to call it. Come on, you can’t let it get cold, plus I got you flowers,” he urged you to sit up properly so you two could eat.

“I want to sleep,” you were whining at him, still kicking your feet about the bed.

Sighing at your little tantrum, he quickly came up with a deal, “How about this,” he climbed on the bed to sit next to you, “we eat the food I made and then we, I mean you go back to sleep, though it’s already afternoon and I don’t understand why you still need sleep.”

Eyeing him suspiciously, you frowned. “You promise?”

“Promise.” He flashed a smile. “Now come, let us eat!”

“What did you make for us to eat?” you yawned as you forced your body to roll to the cool side of the bed.

“Pancakes, eggs, sausages, muffins, the usual, and I got you some flowers. Dandelions, because they remind me of you.” Getting up to retrieve the tray, he came back to sit at the head of the bed where you moved to lay next to him, snuggling him in the process. “Hey, you have to sit up, you can’t eat like that.”

“Dandelions? Aren’t those weeds? I remind you weeds?” you teased as you pressed your body deeper into his sides, ignoring his protests. “Oh Pityo, how romantic. At least you picked me first, get it?”

Torn between wanting to laugh and being exasperated by your antics, he shook his head with a playful roll of his eyes as he reached for the glass of apple juice and brought it to your lips. He fed you while you cuddled him and made small talk as the meal depleted. From conversing about what activities to partake in during your time off, to how much sleep was enough for you, you two spoke about everything before sleepiness returned to you.

“You should feed me like this more often,” you mumbled sleepily after he finished feeding you. “Make sure your little weed grows to be the toughest one of them all.”

“You aren’t planning on letting that go, are you?” he replied as he slid the tray onto the table before adjusting his body comfortably beside yours. His fingers grazed your back, dancing along the curve and tracing random patterns that lulled you to sleep faster.

“How,” –you yawned– “could I? I’m your favourite little flower you would always pick first.”

Feeling his heart melting as you spoke tenderly, he took in your sleepy figure; lashes fluttering as you fought against the sleep, head going slump, lips parted as soft snores escaped and body relaxed. It was a sight that could not get any better. He was indeed pleased to have picked you first since you were his first love. Nuzzling his nose against yours and following up with a kiss, he softly whispered, “You’re the only flower I’d ever pick.”

Masterlist

Taglist: @ranhanabi777 @lilmelily @mysticmoomin @rain-on-my-umbrella @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @sakurayaxd @involuntaryspasms @stormchaser819 @aconstructofamind @addaigio @lamemaster @ladyenchanted

[fandomnerd9602]

Wolf Spider pt. 2 (set during Scream VI)

Sam Carpenter x Spider Man!Reader

For @deafeningsharkslimeempath

Halloween time had come at last. And yet all was not calm for the Carpenter sisters and you, their friendly neighborhood Wolf Spider. The city was filled with masks and people in costumes. You knew all too well that anyone could wear a Ghostface mask, slash, and blend back into the crowd.

Trouble arrived the night before All Hallow's Eve. A murder of a film school student and his roommate. You snuck into the crime scene, Detective Bailey greeting you politely.

"Normally I wouldn't work with vigilantes" He intones.

"Well we're not under normal circumstances." you answer back. "knife?"

"Matches the slashes we found on that film studies teacher" Bailey answers back. His face goes ghostly pale.

"Ghostface"

"We don't know that yet!"

"Need more proof?" you head to the nearby ledge and swing out into the open air. You knew what it meant for your beloved girlfriend Sam and her sister Tara.

Your ear bud rings with the sound of your cell phone. A glance down to your phone reveals the caller id of Sam herself. Speak of the succubus herself.

"Hey honey" you answer the call. "How was your day?"

"My therapist was a total dick" she huffs.

You keep up the conversation while webswinging through the New York skyline, "Sweetheart, if i know a thing or two about blood, it's that you define you."

"But what about that incident with Richie?"

"I know several heroes who kill bad guys, it's only if you went after some innocent person that I'd get worried"

"Are you swinging?"

"M-Maybe"

"What have I told you about texting while swinging?"

"Well I'm not texting-" WHOOSH! A semi zooms right past you as you course correct your swing. "and that's why I love you so much, Sammie"

"Can you check on Tara for me?"

"Send me the party coordinates" you sigh as you swing toward NYU.

You found Tara drunk and being flirted with an obvious predator.

"Hey the lady and I were heading upstairs" the drunk college student continued pulling on Tara's arm. "Nice costume by the way"

"Sorry pal, you're heading downstairs" you sock the drunk predator straight in the jaw, knocking him clean out.

"I can handle myself, Y/N!" Tara intones before storming out of the party. "You're as bad as Sam sometimes!"

You quickly give chase. And so does Chad and Ethan. You charge after Tara and scoop her up before swinging off into the night.

"Where'd they go, dude?" Ethan asks your confused friend Chad.

"Put me down!" Tara drunkenly orders you.

"Well if you insist" you drop her from the height of your swing. Tara screams on the way down before you swing and scoop her up again.

"Are you crazy?!"

"Drinking's bad for your health and your grades, Carpenter" you offer a smirking smile under your mask. You come and set her down on top of the apartment's roof.

"Why can't you or Sam just allow me to make my own decisions?" Tara huffs.

"When you can start making the right ones." you huff back. "I don't mean to scare you but I can't let you wander the streets alone anymore."

"Why not?"

"Three murders recently." you remove your mask, "I think it might be-"

"Ghostface." Tara immediately sobers up before hugging you tight. "Thank you"

"You're like a sis to me, kid, I won't let anyone hurt you"

"What are we gonna tell Sam?"

"I don't know" you sigh, "could you tell her? I'm still on the hook for the whole texting and swinging incident"

Ghostface was loose in the Big Apple. You already knew who the targets were. Luckily, they had a Wolf Spider to back them up.

To Be Continued...

[barbatusart]

how do you make your art so expressive and fluid-looking? do you have a technique or is it just how you've trained your hand? I try to get my figures more fluid but they always look so stiff! even practicing figure drawings...maybe because you draw so fast that helps? idk man...any advice? thank you!

thank you first off for such a compliment!!! fluidity & shape are the things i prize most in visual art to the point where ive given up gunning for "correctness" in favor of chasing the preservation of motion lol. gonna put my response and my Full Visual Art Journey to where i am now under the cut as it's an image-heavy one and a bit long winded (shocking for me to be long winded i know LOL)

so i absolutely used to have the exact same problem many years ago of my stuff being too stiff, ie my sketch would be loose and fun but my inks would be nervous & tight & not as fun to look at as the sketch

this is a super old thing from 2011 when i was still on my anatomy journey (you can tell cus the sternum and nose are, uh, interesting LOL) but you can kinda see what i mean - the sketch underneath is fun & has movement as sketches do, but these little fineliner inks are so visually Nervous. the issue for me at the time was that i was subconsciously exactly that: nervous of messing the picture up, and that fear of making a mistake telegraphed loud & clear to my inks. using fineliner tools 100% did not help me either, as microns & the like have little to no "give" to them; you put the pen to paper and you get what you get, and you have to sit there & meticulously build the line up to get any kind of lineweight.

i was ultra dissatisfied with my output so i made 2 changes a few years after this: i stopped doing pencil sketches and started just doing straight inks, and i swapped to a brushpen

these are from 2012 or so & some of the first things i did in straight brushpen inks with no pencil, and theyre a total mess but they are LOOSE AND FUN! i had 100% no idea what i was doing with the brushpen and had no control over it because i was so used to the thin lines pencil & microns gave me, so everything i made was sloppy & out of control as i was struggling to keep control of the tool, but honestly it was absolutely freeing for me. now i had the looseness of the sketch right there at the forefront. the issue was though, how could i get enough control of the brushpen to make something that wasnt so messy? even if i had freedom, if i got too wacky with it, itd just turn into a black ink mess. i was completely done with pencils at this point and didn't want to go back & risk losing this looseness & freedom, and then i realized like - what if i just do my straight ink sketch like this & then figure out a way to go back in & "carve" into it to clean it?

enter the next tool in the arsenal, the white gel pen. this was my first experiment with it & it was legitimately a complete game changer, because now i could slop on my inks as much as i wanted & go right back in with the gel pen & literally carve out the black lines to as crisp as i pleased while still preserving the motion & energy of the ink sketch. i noticed even with tons of layers of gel too there was no way to fully get rid of the ghost outline of my corrections, so at this stage i leaned into that quality even harder & changed from white paper to exclusively brown

at this point i wanted to showcase loud & clear to myself exactly what i was cleaning up, i LOVED how this looked. i even went a step further & got some really translucent red ink for a second brush pen (had to fill the cartridges with the red ink manually in the sink lol) so i could do an even sloppier red sketch underneath, half precise slop on black ink on top of it, clean it up with the gel, go back in with the black, forever and ever and ever

and like this was an absolute physical mess of material but it was beyond fun. id completely given up on anything being clean or correct, because i could always clean it & correct it & have a blast showcasing the journey of start to finish as preserved in the materials. i basically gave myself permission to like, be imperfect, treat inks like clay, & draw with complete abandon like a kid again

eventually utrecht stopped making the kind of brown paper i loved (these brown paper books were HEAVY DUTY & could take so much punishment, when i was done with a book id legit flip it over & start drawing on the backs of the pages) & then all the available material physically couldnt handle the amount of medium i was putting on my pages, like legit the paper itself was just ripping & dissolving lmao. so at this stage i got an ipad (i could never wrap my head around a tablet & not looking at my hand and the tool touching the artwork) & pivoted from trad to digital in like uhhhh 2018ish & just did the exact same techniques of slopping inks down, carving with the eraser, going back in with the inks, carving more with the eraser, and so on. and now since it was digital & i never had to worry about my paper literally melting underneath my brushes LOL i could just go forever on one thing

early attempts while learning the new medium in my fury road era

tail end of the SAD SACK roughs in like 2019ish (SAD SACK really was what got me locked in with my digital technique & how i wanted to attack it)

tail end of the SORTIE roughs from like 2021, at this stage i think my style got so fuckin crazy because i wasnt worried about my pages getting destroyed anymore so im like Violent with the ipad lmao, that & it got Really fast bcus since i wasnt bothering with correct anymore & had no medium-being-destroyed barrier i could just gunshot-speed get these down

and then most recently DE RERUM NATURA from like january of this year which i think showcases what im currently doing pretty accurately

this got long whoops lol POINT IS: i dont worry about being correct (because i can fix it later), i dont worry about being neat (because i can clean it later), and i skip the sketch stage entirely by slop-inking & eraser-carving interchangeably, which lets me fix and clean all i want while preserving the energy & action of the first marks. plus, going straight inks all the time i think trained my hand & eye to A. put down the marks i want correctly in the General Space of where i want them, and B. do it faster & faster lol

after all this my advice to you is this: swap to a new tool! try a brush, try paint, try a medium you have no control over but something that forces you to improvise and remember whats so fun in the first place about making a mess on your canvas of choice. remember that any mark you make, you can tweak, fix, carve, shove around, whatever. i think a lot of people get stuck in the rules they have set for themselves with art (i know i did!) and we tend to forget that there are no rules. try & remember that feeling of being little & just going wild on paper without any care whatsoever about being Right. go for it, because you can always tweak it - even inks arent permanent 🤓

[emerxshiu]

FORGOTTEN LAND'S SECOND ANNIVERSARY :3

I AM SOOOO BACK

I started this drawing yesterday around afternoon and finished it just a few minutes earlier.

I went with a messier type of drawing instead of more clean like the elfilin one from yesterday, i find it fun doing it like this, mostly cause i dont have to worry about making it perfectly so i dont get as frustrated as normal. Id place this one as my second best digital drawing. im pretty sure i havent posted what i consider my best digital drawing here, tho i do have it in instagram, i might post it here one day, tho these two are way too tied up, i love how this came out, its not exactly like how i imagined it but its really close to it, and also itd say that since i dont tend to play around lighting that much, this was such a joy to draw and i cant help but stare at it a lot, at least until i start hating it because i made quite a lot of errors. i also changed my elfilis gijinka just a tad bit from last time, but its not that big of a difference, mostly.

ofc i had to draw elfilis for forgotten land's anniversary, i tend to deny it in my head but yeah they're my fave of the kirby characters even tho i hate them a bit. I wanted to draw some more doodles, like, elfilis eating cake, kirby car, a bunch of other stuff (not elfilin cuz i already drew him yesterday) but when i tried i couldnt draw anything more, guess this drawing burned me out a lot, huh?

you can definitly tell i spent all the efforts on him cuz if you look a bit closer to the bottom part you'll see its almost barely detailed, but i mean, they're the focus so make sense i guess for me not add that much detail there. um also, maybe because i dunno i had OVER 130 LAYERS jeez no wonder firealpaca was slowing down so much, i need to manage my layers better next time, tho i did do something i keep forgetting, wich is naming them (most of them at least) that was a real life saver

Also, antares (fecto elfilis' spear/cadaceus), as always, was a pain to draw, but this time its probably been draw the most accurate out of every other drawing ive made with it in it, i didnt notice it was like, a little curved when it reached the blade

some close ups since his face is a bit hard to see

silly :3

fun fact! actually, this is technically a redraw, somewhere around between february and march i started a fecto elfilis drawing for the first anniversary, but i couldnt finish it in time, and i never finished it

thats...quite the improvement! (i remember being so proud of it)

also his wings are like that cuz i did not want to draw the pattern, its way too hard, i literally copy pasted it, wait, i was talking about the 2024 version but i looked at the 2023 one and i just noticed it also has the pattern copy pasted, i guess some stuff never changes since i still abuse the ctrl+c ctrl+v to this day

Also i ended up making a huge error there, i was planing to add the phantom spears from orbital pulsar (the attack he does first when you battle them at lab discovera) but theres an innacuracy, when they do the attack, they always close their eyes, i had actually sketched him (well i mean both these drawings are basically the first sketch (2023) or second sketch(2024) with some color, shadows and lighting. i didnt do lineart in the 2024 one cuz i wanted to be a bit like the og i made (too bad i sketched that one with black since the og was sketched with white due to me drawing the bg first)) with his eyes closed but them decided to make them open for a reason i cant remember, maybe i thought itd look nicer? idk

ive had the idea of redrawing this for quite some month now so it was kinda already planned

background cuz i think it came out really pretty

doesnt have the little stars since without elfilis and the structures it looks fucked up. the actual sky in game is more blue, but the clouds have some orange, in the 2023 ver. i made the sky orange, and in the 2024 ver i wanted it more accurate, but i didnt wanna loose the orange sky, so i did a gradient. pretty...

also here's a screenshot i took when i was like halfway trough it, its barely noticeable but i changed his mouth in the final drawing

I really love katfl, like a buncha whole lot, its basically almost my first mainline kirby game. 100% the demo, finished the game in almost one day, i literally play it monthly, like, every month i put the card in my switch, start it up, get morpho sword, and go shred elfilis in lab discovera. i would probably not even be here on tumblr and the kirby fandom if it werent for it. and i love it so much i genuinly cannot express how much i like it and treasure it with words or anything

Thank you for reading my unnecesarily long rambles lol

I hope i'll post tomorrow and dont forget like usual

Jambuhbye!

[ask-team-misfit]

*Destino swaggers up with their usual smug grin, putting a paw on Lief's shoulder.*

Destino: Wow, Liefiboo, you really messed up there huh? What is your problem? For shame I say. For shame. If it were me, I wouldn't loose control like that. Come on. It's like you have no idea how to interact with other Pokémon. It's just so hilarious. Are you ever going to get better? Probably not.

At Destino’s touch, Lief yelped, jumping a bit. He whirled around to face the Absol, his look of shock becoming annoyance as he hissed their way.

Lief: “You? Seriously?? Of all the times for you to come back, it really had to be right now?”

[ ID: A grayscale bust drawing of Lief slightly angled away from the viewer towards the left. His eyes are narrowed in an annoyed glare. His mouth is open, as if in the midst of a tangent. Lief's appearance is as described here. End ID ]

Lief: “And ‘Liefiboo’? Really? How’d you even get in here without me hearing y–”

aro-pokeverse asked: (@ask-the-shiny-pokemons) Noelle approaches Lief with a bit of irritating look. She's in a bit of a shock when she saw an Umbreon got almost killed by him. "WHAT THE HELL??? I know you're tryin' to safe someone's life after the incident, but seriously what the hell are ya thinking? Also I saw someone closer to me doin' the same thing..." She makes a worried face. She's very quietly speaks to him: "Sorry for yelling... It's just... I dunno how to describe it... But, please calm down... take a deep breath... and please tell me more about "her"... If you can't tell, well, that's fine as long as ya don't cause any trouble..."

[ @ask-the-shiny-pokemons ]

Clearly, with Lief distracted on his musings over Destino, he didn’t hear Noelle come in.

Upon her shout, he again jumped a bit.

[ ID: A grayscale drawing of Lief similar to the previous image. He looks shocked, or fearful. A couple of sweat drops are present on his face. His mouth is somewhat agape and shaky. End ID ]

Lief: “Seriously, can any of you not sneak up on me like this?? Coming all this way to scold me, in my own home…!”

He paused to take a deep breath. Then one more. His fur and antennae both relax once again.

Lief: “I-if you ask me, this is all their fault. If they hadn’t…”

He shot a glare at Destino as he said the above, only to trail off.

He wanted to continue on in his tangent, fault them for starting this trainwreck–but he couldn’t. Even as he tried to look angry at them, stay angry at them.

It didn’t last. After all, he knew the truth of things very well.

Lief: “No. Not really… this part is definitely all me.”

He sighed, defeated.

Lief: “I’d explain myself here, but how does someone explain seeing stuff that’s not there three times in a row? And I know, not an excuse. Maybe I need more sleep.”

[ ID: A grayscale drawing of Lief similar to the previous image. He looks sad or concerned, appearing to have some troubling thoughts he's refusing to speak of. He's looking away to the right. End ID ]

Lief: “And that last part is… well, I don’t know how much of that you heard.”

[ ID: A grayscale drawing of Lief similar to the previous image. He appears dismissive, glancing away towards the right with very narrow eyes. He's visibly flushed all over his face, with the blush shown in color. End ID ]

Lief: “Actually scratch that, if you heard anything of what I said before then, that’s creepy. But who I mean by ‘her’ is…”

He took one more breath. It’d be a moment longer before that blush faded from his cheeks.

Lief: “Mama. My mama. She was tough on all of us, but she taught me a lot. She was a Flareon hybrid.”

He gave a soft huff, turning back around to continue tending to Vahni’s wounds.

Lief: “I’m mostly over it, you know. She’s been dead for years, and it’s kinda just how things are out here. Though I guess by ‘mostly over it’, I actually mean I no longer blame myself for what happened.”

Lief: “So are you happy now? Do you mind coming back after I clean up this mess? I still don’t get how you’re all getting in here without me hearing you…”

[kah-way-loh]

The process of plushifying a 2005 Furby- under a read more so it doesn't clog the tag!

Firstly, I'd recommend starting with either FurbyTech or WalrusFurb's posts... or ideally both! These both give a better understanding of what a 2005 Furby looks like internally and how it's pieced together. My Furby, Pitaya, came to me broken to a severe degree and I didn't realize until I skinned her and plastic shards started falling out of her like confetti! Her fur was also stubborn, not wanting to come loose from the tabs all over... but I managed!

After the fur and feet are free, you can give them a wash. I opted to use a fursuit disinfectant spray instead since I already cleaned her in the past. I then sewed the feet to the main body with a ladder stitch after screwing the plastic of them together

Once you've removed the shells, you can work on taking out the eye mechanism. Since Pitaya was already so busted up, it took a short time to separate everything. Just a lot of screws to remove! And a lot of sharp plastic edges

[Image description: the blinking mechanism of a 2005 Furby, separate from the rest of the internal hardware. The eyes are open. End ID.]

Now, I don't like using hot glue or super glue. But for this, it was necessary to glue the lower eyelids in place to keep that structure from falling off. Aside from the now immobile lower lids, the rest of the eyes can still move freely!

Next was... the beak. Always my least favorite part of plushifying a Furby. I wanted to keep the mobility, so I created an armature with copper wire and set some cut toothpicks in place. Those didn't want to stay in place, so I, again, had no choice but to bust out the super glue and some beads

[Image descriptions: different angles of a 2005 Furby's beak with a handmade hinge mechanism made from copper wire, toothpicks, and wood beads. End ID.]

To attach that to the fur, I had to weave the same wire through the faceplate and the makeshift hinge. The smart way would be to use a heated tool to melt the holes in the plastic... I instead just jabbed an awl through and prayed it didn't break (PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DO IT THE SMART WAY). While I was at it, I also did the same thing for the eyes and sewed some spare fabric over the back of the beak to keep stuffing from leaking through

[Image description: the inside-out fur of a 2005 Furby, with the handmade back mechanism attached and white fleece sewn over it. An extra wire on each side of the eye sockets has been pierced through the plastic faceplate. End ID.]

Now, I'm not sure if every 2005 has this, but Pitaya had a tab that held the fur to her face right above the beak, so I went ahead and used that as well as reinforced it with the wires. Without those wires the eyes would be very wobbly and not stay put

Finally I could flip her right side out, stuff her, and stitch her closed! Except I ran out of polyfill... so I'll leave her Velcro section open for now. But for the most part she's done!

[Image descriptions: a stuffed white and pink 2005 Passionfruit Furby. The first image has her eyes and beak closed, the second has her eyes open, the third has both her eyes and beak open, and the fourth is a profile view with her eyes and beak open. End ID.]

Okay so. Overall I absolutely love the end result, but the process was a 0/10 for me. I wouldn't do it again because 2005s are not easy to disassemble in the slightest and it was just a nightmare on my aching hands. I also probably did it in the most roundabout way to limit the amount of super glue I used (I'm sensitive to the smell of it) which added to the complication. Part of me wishes I actually sculpted or at least covered the beak, but I knew I was going to have a hard enough time with it so I didn't bother. For what it's worth, she still looks like a normal 2005 aside from the lumpy stuffing! I need to get more soon for other projects anyway

Feel free to try this if you're ambitious and committed enough, and try finding your own ways to make it easier!

[abronzeagegod]

ETS WIP Chapter 16: End Script

[first]|[more]

As the last of the worms was killed and banished into their home plane, the last person that Lyta wanted to see was Ji.

"I was surprised you chose me of all people," the thin, but stupidly hot, Exterminator said.

"Yeah, well," Lyta said without thinking, she felt like she had to response and the filler words were the first thing she spoke into existence. She was still trying to reign back her anger, to keep it under control and not say something stupid or mean or callous. Now was not the time. She took a breath. "You're an asshole but you're still one of the best Exterminators we have so it wasn't really even a question. Besides I still know your employee ID number so it was easier for me to look you up."

Not entirely without anger, but sometimes it just is like that.

Ji shrugged. "Well, I never got to see you really fight like that so... if you ever want to transfer over to the Exterminators give me a call. We could go for a drink or something."

Lyta briefly caught Aeth's eye from across the hallowed field of servers and graveyard of worms and phones.

"I'm good where I'm at."

Aeth, meanwhile, was being interrogated, or rather very harshly questioned, by two members of the Catalog and Archive Bureau.

"You unleashed a god upon tech support," said the one that was not tall. "You stole an unrestrained small god that was supposed to be closely monitored and let it loose within one of the most complex systems in the world."

"Yes," Aeth said. "It was necessary."

"We will be the judges of that," said the one that was not short. "This is going to have ramifications."

Aeth nodded. "And letting the Abyss go unchecked would have been much worse. A thing that you were supposed to deal with, but were... indisposed."

Lyta had walked over by this point and cut off the agent that was about to speak, "Not to mention your Bureau is responsible for letting a sentient nightmare out that almost consumed my friend whole. So should you really be casting blame."

The one who was not tall sputtered a little bit before he answered. "We were not informed."

"Oh, funny that. You can go clean up the corpse of 3812-B in my friend's apartment. When you figured out how the thing that was supposed to be monitored 24/7 managed to get out, almost complete the goal for which it spawned, and you still didn't know about it, then we can discuss the ramifications of the thing that saved us all."

"You'll be hearing from us," the one that was not short said angrily.

"I'm sure we will," Lyta snapped back. "But until then fuck off back to the file cabinet."

Aeth heaved a sigh of relief as the agents stomped away. "Thanks. For everything."

Lyta smiled up at Aeth. A warm, but tired smile. "Any time. Can we get out of here? I need a shower, food, and probably a call to a repairman and my landlord to fix my apartment."

"Before you go," came a voice from one of the servers. Out of an unused port, came the representation of the new God of Tech Support.

"What can we do for you?" Aeth asked.

"I owe you two more than I can say," Sir Lance Corporal said. "I am now more than I ever was. I feel like I am myself and I have a purpose. I thank you humbly for your efforts in this event. I hope we shall work together again soon."

The pair just nodded.

Then, just in Aeth's mind, came the voice of the god, "Thank you for your faith, as well. It sustains me and gives me the strength to continue."

Aeth nodded and replied in prayer. "It was nothing. Easy to believe in something good. I'm sure Lyta feels the same."

There was a soft sound of a server next to Aeth that sounded almost like a chuckle.

"Lyta does not, and that is fine. She believes so much, in you. That is enough for me, I hope it is enough for you."

Aeth wasn't entirely sure how to respond.

"Go, get some rest you two. There will be work to be done when you return," the god of tech support said.

"Ok, thanks," Lyta said. She turned to Aeth. "I have an idea, it may be a dumb one, but it's all I've got right now. Let's get a hotel room, shower, give our clothes to the pros to clean, eat some room service while we hang out in fluffy robes, and then just... sleep."

"It sounds great."

"My apartment is probably covered in like three inches of snow melt."

"And I'm sure the Catalog people are combing over my place looking for 3812-B."

"Which will be easy to find, right?"

"I hope so."

As the pair walked off, somewhat hesitantly, Aeth put their arm around Lyta's shoulder. Lyta immediately warmed to the touch and moved closer to them.

Sir Lance Corporal made sure to tell the hotel to only offer them rooms with a single bed.

if you liked these maybe considering leaving me a tip on kofi

[minnow-doodle-doo]

THE BATMOBILE HAS LOST ITS WHEELS (speaking of i need to read this one again i love it so much)

I'm so glad you love it!! Tho I don't ever really think I'll finish it. But I can tell you how the middle and end would go.

Chapter 4: they go to the batcave, which Wayne manor is owned by Alfred, whole also lives in Birmingham, and from there Bruce gets Jason cleaned up, and explains that he knows about the situation. Jason defends himself, he's not a snitch.

Bruce says that he knows but that doesn't change the fact that everyone is looking for him for that. And then Bruce gives him an out, he can find a way for him to be fostered with him, under a new name and he can go to school and heal and he can decided what h wants to  do when his leg is healed. 

Jason says he’ll think about it and Bruce lets him sleep. He thinks and thinks it seems like Bruce means him no harm, he's batman, and bruce wayne, who’d a thunk that. 

As jason sleeps, Bruce is having a hard time being back in the cave, and tries to push out the thoughts that he's not batman anymore and that dick isn't there. 

So he sleeps too, back in his old chair. 

Jason is the one to wake him up, as he hobbles to Bruce and pokes him and he starles harshly. He says that he’ll come with him, only if he gets to go to school. 

Bruce smiles slightly. 

The drive back is quiet and awkward, but they leave gotham and Bruce watches Jason watch the Gotham skyline get smaller behind them.

Cut to Tim, he’s out taking pictures of the manor, he likes to do that when he’s anxious, and he sees Bruce leave with Jason. Now he knows that Batman is alive. He takes a picture of the license plate of Bruce's truck.

Chapter 5: They get back to Bruce’s new house in the woods and Alfred has already set up the room. They all talk about guidelines and rules, Alfed makes dinner and it's a little less awkward than the car ride. 

Alfred has already got materials for him to get ready to start 8th grade in the fall. His birthday is right at the cut off. They have the whole spring and summer to get him ready.

The rest: So Jason is falling into a rhythm there and he is bored but Bruce starts to bringing him books and they have his ID set up so he goes to school as Bruces 'cousin'

Now Tim finds them and gets caught stalking them (he's been talking the bus/ubers) out in the boonies but he keeps coming back and they just kinda keep him when his parents are out of the country.

Jason and Tim become fast friends and months and months go by and life is alright, Bruce thinks of him as his boys. They bring up Robin a couple of times.

Anyway cut to like a year later, Barbra finds the tires at an auction and tells Bruce so everyone goes back to Gotham for a little trip and he buys the tires.

But the joker who killed Dick is watching and follows them and then tries to reenact what happened with Dick. But Jason gets loose and beats Joker to death with his tire iron, partly so he doesn't hurt his newfound family and partly to get revenge for Dick, even tho he had only met him once.

After that Alfred says he's clean it all up and tells Bruce to run to a safe house with his boys and so they drive having to start all over again. (They just kinda steal Tim)

the chapter bits are below the cut

Everything came back in small pieces laid out over blurry vision. Except the pain, which hit him like a truck.

Jason sucked in a breath, and more things came into focus. The ceiling, if you could call it that, was stone stories above him, as if he were in some cave.

It took a couple of moments to realize he was in a cave.

Adrenaline was the only reason he was able to sit up and look around, which confirmed further that he was in a cave, a cave with high tech equipment and huge computer monitors. In a black swivel chair sat a man. 

The day's events came back to Jason full force. 

The man was Batman. Alive. Real. And apparently very asleep if the closed eyes and the deep breaths were anything to go by.

Jason could take this opportunity to run, but with his fucked up leg, he couldn't get far. The last time he had broken his leg, thanks to dear old dad, it had taken eight weeks to even get the cast off. Eight weeks of crutches and hopping around, at least he had his mom to lean on sometimes.

And he had been stabbed on top of that. 

“You're awake.” a deep voice broke the silence of the cave.

“So are you now.” Jason said and tried to not let fear leak out into his reply.

With the help of the cane, Batman pushed himself up and walked over to his bedside. 

Jason was keenly aware he didn't have a weapon. The fear must have been obvious as Batman again dropped a knife into Jason’s lap.

“It's yours now.”

Jason didn't need to be told twice, the hilt in his hand steadied his breathing.

“How did you know I was Batman?”

Jason should have expected this question, no one knew Batman’s face and how 

“Your teeth were too white and straight to be from the area

“You broke your leg pretty bad. Dr. Thomkins was able to fix you up though.”

“You said-”

“She came here, she’s not gonna tell.”

Jason knew this. He had been to Dr. Thomkins too many times over the year, most everyone in Crime Alley had. She was one of the only universally trusted figures there, she helped people, every single one.

The woman from yesterday must have been her then, the blurry figure in his memory did look like her.

“I know what the police are trying to do to you.” Batman said as he watched the monitors Jason was hooked up too. “It isn't right.”

Of course Batman knew that. “Yeah so it isn't right, they do that shit all the time.”

“Language.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “What does it matter? That if I snitch for real to the police that I’ll still be shipped off to a foster home, if I live long enough for that to happen. Both of those options are no-gos.” the more he talked the more angry he became. “I’m not the first and I won’t be the last.”

“That’s why I wanna offer you a chance to have a foster home outside of Gotham. I can get you into good ones, with a new name, away from the gangs and police.”

“No!” Jason snapped, raising his knife in threat, even if it visibly shook. “No more foster homes!” He had gotten lucky with the Dick Grayson Orphanage, but luck was never on his side.

Batman studied him, still not bothered by someone pointing a knife at him.

“Another option is that you can stay with me then.”

Jason blinked, that was the last thing he had thought would happen. “What-Why?”

“You need help.”

“I don’t!” 

Unfazed, Batman continued. “You’d get a new identity, away from all this. You’d get to go to school again, be a kid.”

“Not a kid.” Jason hissed, still trying to comprend what the fuck Batman was going on about.

“Think about it. We can find other options too. Dr. Thompkins will come and check on you in a couple of hours.”

Those couple of hours were filled with tense silences, only interrupted by the MRE’s eaten between them. Jason couldn’t even relax as he scarfed down the beef ravioli and the rest of the meal, thank god that it had been sealed being opened or else he would have refused. The knife never left Jason’s side.

Batman’s words bounced around his mind, it couldn’t be that simple.

Finally Dr. Thompkins walked down the winding stairs, and Jason let out a breath of relief. Her and Batman talked for a bit, out of earshot and backs turned, but when the doctor turned she smiled at him.

“Jason, it's good to see you awake.” She said as she came up to his bedside. “You’ve really got yourself in quite the predicament.” it wasn’t quite scolding but it brought back memories of her making him take his shots.

Jason shrugged his shoulders. 

“Batman, you don’t need to be here for this conversation.” She waved her hand and Batman actually listened, making himself scarce. Jason hadn’t realized she had that kinda power, it was kinda awesome she could just dismiss Batman.

“Broken nose in multiple places, broken leg, a stab wound. Jason, you almost died from blood loss. You're lucky I knew your blood type already and had a transfusion ready.”

“It wasn't even that much blood!”

She shot him a look which shut him right up, “Anyways, I’m going to do some tests.”

A nagging question slipped out of Jason's mouth as Dr. Thomkins checked over her handiwork on his broken nose. “Is Batman a good person? Can I trust him?”

“Yes.” Dr. Thomkins said without hesitation. “I’ve known him since he was a child, just like you. He always tries to do what he thinks is right, for no other reason other than it is right.”

“Like dressing up in a bat suit and beating up criminals?” Jason snickered, imagining a child Batman with a too big costume, eyepatch and all.

“Even that. I didn't say anything about being…unconventional. Batman does want to help you, because that's the right thing to do.”

Pursing his lips, Jason thought of Dr. Thomkins words.

“He told me what he offered you.” 

Surprised, Jason studied her face. “He did?”

“He did. He did that for his previous ward, more or less.”

Robin died though, probably by the same thing that fucked up half of Batman’s bodywent unsaid “Does he really mean that I would be able to go back to school?” tentative hope slipped through into his tone. 

Dr. Thomkins smiles softly. “Yes. You deserve to go back to school Jason. You deserve a second chance.”

Jason didn’t reply, only ghosting his fingers over the blade in his hand. 

The rest of her visit was thoughtfully silent.

Tim liked to photograph Wayne Manor. It was as if he could pretend that Batman and Robin were alive and well. Maybe they’d be getting ready for patrol, looking over evidence together, or eating a snack. Normal, not dead things. 

So that was why Tim found himself sneaking onto his neighbors property, ignoring that it was private property and that it was a school night. He had taken this route through the woods a number of times, he obviously wasn't just gonna walk up the driveway.

A black pickup truck, a newer model, sat next to a cave entrance. It was too clean to have been left there for long periods of time. The tread marks were deep with speed and more importantly new. 

Tim made sure to stay hidden in the trees, as he took a picture of the license plate. This was gonna be so exciting for him, like a real stakeout, like a real detective. 

Hours went by but Tim stayed strong. Batman would’ve stayed, and so would Tim. 

Finally someone was coming. Two someones, to be more exact. Both hobbling through the shadows till they came out of the entrance, a child on a pair of crutches and a tall scarred man with a cane.

Tim took a lot of pictures for evidence. Who was this man, he was so familiar, but it was hard to tell anything with the scars. The boy at least was a total mystery, (a mystery with a broken nose and foot if the cast and gauze were anything to go by.)

They loaded themselves into the truck without saying a word, and the man turned the truck around tightly and left the way they came. 

Tim smiled to himself, as he flipped through the pictures, zooming in on the man's face. His scar side had been facing Tim most of the time. One photo though, has his face turned slightly, enough to see his one blue eye. 

Tim tried to not to hyperventilate, as he stared harder at the pixels. The bridge of the nose was the same, the eyebrow, the jawline; everything.

That was Bruce Wayne.

Batman. 

Alive. 

Tim promptly burst into happy tears, and quickly wiped them even if there was no one around to see. A big grew on his face as he stood up.

He had a license plate to run.

“He’s not spooky, you're just a pu- uh…scaredy-cat.”

[mosylufanfic]

A Long Way to Sunrise

I started writing this before Christmas, hoping to post it for the holiday. Then I was hoping to post it for New Year’s Eve. I will now pause for your knowing laughter.

Okay, now that we all have that out of our systems, I made up most of the holiday traditions and superstitions in this story, or plucked them out of whatever dusty store room my brain stashed them in when I read them ages ago. The exception is the food that Bix makes, which are dishes I chose because Adria Arjona was born in Puerto Rico. 

A Long Way to Sunrise

They'd spent the day making the house ready for the new year, cleaning it top to bottom. After they'd finished, Bix had fallen asleep mid-afternoon, which was also traditional. 

When she woke, it was well after dark. She sat up, pushing the heels of her hands into her eyes, and muttered, "Bluuuuugh," into her wrists. She had the kind of headache you got from falling asleep at a strange hour and sleeping more than a nap's worth. 

The house was cold and quiet, and she shivered against it for a moment, annoyed. This was wrong, all of it. Just wrong.

On Ferrix, Life Day and the new year were midsummer holidays. Oh, of course the technical end of the year, by the Imperial calendar, was a month and a half later. But everyone on Ferrix knew the year really ended and began a week after Life Day, with Last Night and First Morn. 

And the week in between, when the salvage yard and most businesses were closed, was when everyone celebrated, the sun pouring cheerfully down on them as they cooked holiday food, took gifts around the town, and held parties in the streets. 

But Gangi Moon was almost perfectly opposite, as far as seasons went. They'd come away from Ferrix  in a late-blooming and chill spring, and landed here in the middle of fall, already turning back to cold and dark. 

To Bix, it just felt as if she was stuck in the middle of a winter that would never end. 

"Stop that," she said aloud, and forced herself up out of bed. 

She dug her fingers into her scalp and massaged until the tension eased, then undoing the tie at the end of her braid and combing her fingers through it until her hair spilled loose over her shoulders. She shook it out, considered her reflection in the night-dark window, and smoothed down as much of the frizzies as she could. 

Then she undid the ties of her quilted jacket and the shirt underneath it, and the drawstrings of her pants, letting everything dangle loose so as not to stay tied to anything from the old year. 

She'd never trucked with such superstitions before. She was Bix Caleen and she controlled her own destiny. But now, humbled and sobered in more ways than one, Bix felt the need of all the luck she could get. 

With all her clothing loose like this, the chill got to her, so she pulled her blanket off her bed and wrapped it around herself. She peeked over in the other room at Brasso's bed, but it was empty. Maybe he'd gone out to get something. 

She got herself some pernil from the chiller box, noting that it was close to gone, and packed the savory shredded meat into one of the sweet dinner rolls they'd made the night before Life Day. Brasso's recipe, passed from his mum and his nan, his family's Life Day tradition. 

After she'd eaten her makeshift sandwich, he still wasn't back. Frowning, she assembled another one with the last of the pernil. "Bee?" she called out.

After a moment, she heard the little droid’s servos shifting and his wheels rolling slightly - his version of a sleepy query.

She went into the hall where they'd put the charger they'd managed to find. "Hey, Bee," she said, crouching down. "How's your charge?"

"Eight-t-t-ty percent."

She frowned. He'd taken to spending longer and longer on his charger lately, with a far slower charging time. "We need to get you a better charger."

"This is f-fine."

"It could be better," she said. "Where's Brasso gone to?"

"Outs-s-s-ide. In the b-back." They had a patch of back, not even big enough to be dignified with the term yard.

"All this time?" She opened the back door and found him sitting on the small, square step. 

Something about the slump of his shoulders made her go out to him. "Brass? What are you doing out here? It's cold as balls."

"Just thinking," he said, with a slur at the edge of his words.

He had a bottle of something set down by his feet. She frowned at it. "Are you drunk?"

Brasso would have a drink at the pub or with friends, but she'd never seen him drunk, or even heard of it. She'd always figured it was because of his dad.

"Lil' bit," he sighed. "Just a lil' bit."

She handed him the sandwich and the last roll. "Here. Soak up some of that in your belly."

He took it. "Is this the last of it?"

"Yup. Best to get everything eaten before First Morn." She leaned up against the house and wrapped her blanket tighter around herself. "Thinking about Jezzi's message?"

"Don't know what's worse. That we're not home or that they can't celebrate proper." He was still holding the sandwich, picking at the crumbs flaking off the edge of the bread.

She kicked her heel uncertainly against the house. Usually it was her down in the dumps, and Brass trying to cheer her up. What would he say if she came up with this? "It was still Life Day, a week ago," she offered. "And tonight's still Last Night."

"No private gatherings of unrelated persons," he said gloomily. "No leaving your house after curfew. No sound above a certain decibel level. Permits for any community gatherings."

Translated, that meant no parties, lasting far into the night and inviting everyone on the street and half the town besides. No open-house day at the cramped row flats where Brasso had lived for years, where everyone threw open their doors and wandered from flat to flat, laughing and eating and drinking. 

"No concert," he said. "Think of that, Bixy. No concert at the school."

Oh, now, that was taking it too far. "Nobody goes to that concert if they don't have to. It's completely dire."

He battled for a moment, then admitted, "Well, yeah, it's bad, but it's nice to know it's there all the same. I sang in that concert thirteen years, and you did too."

"Yeah," she sighed. You smirked at your friends and neighbors who had to turn up to that concert because their kids were singing, knowing that someday it'd be your turn to sit through it for some kid you loved. 

He shook his head. "Isn't right," he said. "It's not the way things should be."

She couldn't say anything to that. Knowing she wasn't going to be home for Life Day, or for Last Night, had dumped her in the swamps for most of the month. She'd dragged herself to her feet most days because Brasso worried so much when she didn't, but the day after Life Day she hadn't been able to get out of bed at all. She was looking forward to being through it and not having to think about what she was missing anymore.  

"A lot of things aren't the way they should be," she said. "But tonight's still Last Night."

"They won't be permitted to celebrate," he said darkly. "All those people in the streets. All the noise and the shouting, and the trumpets and the drums when the sun comes up. Like another riot."

"Still," she said. "I think they will."

"They bulldozed our wall, Bix."

Just thinking it made her sick. That had been part of Jezzi's message too. The wall - the wall of all their people - 

"Our kin are rubble and gravel," Brasso went on. "You think the ones who did that will care for First Morn?"

"But Ferrix people'll stay up for Last Night," she said. "Even if it's behind closed curtains. Even if they have to stay out of the streets. Even if they can't sing the last moon down or cheer the sun when it rises. They'll stay up."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because we are."

He twisted around and stared at her a moment. There were tears in his eyes. He looked away, wiped his nose, then reached down for the bottle. "This rotten stuff is doing my head in, and no mistake."

"Best pour it out, then."

"Rather make a rebel's cocktail with it." He sloshed it thoughtfully, then sighed and flipped it upside down, letting the cheap stuff glug into the dirt. "But there's nothing for us to light on fire here, so pouring it out it is."

She wrinkled her nose. "From the smell of it, a rebel's cocktail is the best use for it anyway." 

He was still holding the sandwich, and now he took a meditative bite. "Did I tell you this was really good?" he asked with his mouth full.

"You did."

"You didn't make any of your rice this week."

"I made rice."

"Yeah, and it was good, but not the special rice you make, with the sort of - " He waved the half-eaten sandwich. "The beans in."

"Arroz con gandules," she said.

"That's it. Yeah. S'good."

"I couldn't get the pigeon peas," she said. She'd barely been able to get the seasoning for the pernil, which had come as a nasty shock. There were so many Mimbran families, or families that had been Mimbran recently enough to still cook the food, living on Ferrix that things like pigeon peas and good spices were a basic staple in the grocer's. Not here, though.

"Ah,” he said. “Sorry about that."

She hugged the blanket tighter around herself and made her voice brisk. "It's just food. It's all right."

She'd told herself that over and over, the day she lay in bed. It's just food. There's no reason to feel so awful about it. Don't be so silly. 

He shook his head. "You used to make that all the time back home. I remember you brought a great dish of it when my dad died."

She probably had; it was her go-to for occasions like that. Mostly because if she made a big enough batch there was plenty left over for her even after she'd taken some to whatever family was grieving or celebrating. 

"Surprised you want any, with an association like that."

"I do, though. Every time I took a bite, I knew someone was thinking of me." He finished off the sandwich, rubbed his hands together briefly, and tucked them into crooks of his elbows. "Same with what everyone brought."

She nudged him with her foot. "Mine was best, though, right?"

"Of course," he said. He gave her a sly look. "Better'n Jezzi's famous green beans. But don't tell her I told you that."

"It goes with me to the grave," she said solemnly.

She thought of when her own dad had died. She'd been too numb and exhausted to think anything but food I don't have to cook about the dishes that crammed her chiller box. But Brasso was right. Every dish had been brought by someone who was thinking of her.

Maybe that was why they all did it. Bix had never thought of it more deeply then, that's what you do.

Brasso hadn't brought anything, but nobody expected anyone living in those dinky flats to actually cook. He'd come with the other Sons of Ferrix, as her dad had been a Son. Before they'd loaded her dad's body onto the decorated salvage sled, he'd offered her a moment alone, and she'd said no. Fuck. No and burst into tears. 

He'd wrapped her up in his arms until she'd cried herself out, leaving skies only knew what on his shirt. She'd burrowed into his embrace for at least five minutes more beyond that before pulling away to blow her nose and wash her face. 

A chilly gust set her shivering, and she squeezed in next to him on the tiny step. He shifted to make room for her, but they were still hip to hip, which she wasn't complaining about. "You're sure you're still warm enough?" she asked. 

"Haven't been so warm since the summer." He smoothed his hand down over the coat she'd gotten him for Life Day - dark brown, sturdy, hard-wearing. 

His red ceremonial coat, which he'd worn when they fled Ferrix, had stayed in the closet even as it got colder and colder, the bitter wind whipping off the sea. He wanted to keep it nice, he'd said, and added another layer on top of the several he was already wearing. 

She'd saved up as much as she could from the fixes she did for the second-hand shop in town, and the "errands" they ran for the Rebels, and spent multiple afternoons sifting through the offerings at the second-hand shop until she found one big enough, thick enough, and with only some tears in the lining and tatters at the hems. She'd taken it to the repair shop to get those fixed.  

She'd been prepared for a fight, as she didn't have the best reputation in town, and she was pretty sure she'd gotten in a fight with the shopkeep's son during one of her benders. But credits spoke every language, and the stone-faced woman had taken the order and haggled without obvious resentment. 

"You're not half-bad when you're not drunk and mean," she'd said when they came to an agreement. 

"I'm still mean," Bix said. "Just not drunk."

The woman had actually cracked a small smile at that. "I'll have the coat ready for your man before Life Day."

"He's not - we - we're just - " Bix had fallen into confused silence at the shopkeep's raised brow, and escaped when another customer came in. There'd been no more words about her man when she'd gone to pick it up, but she'd been self-conscious the whole time. 

But it was a damn nice coat, and the repairs were almost invisible. She petted the heavy material with satisfaction. 

When she looked up, she realized Brasso was studying her with furrowed brows. "What?" she said.

"Just noticed you weren't wearing your jewelry." He cleared his throat. "Not the last couple days."

She touched the edge of her ear. She had never felt completely dressed without some kind of jewelry on, mostly in her ears or braided into her hair because necklaces and rings were liable to get caught as she was making repairs. 

He'd given her a set of ear cuffs for Life Day. She'd put them on immediately and he'd smiled and said, "There we are. Didn't seem right, Bix without some pretties on."

At the hotel, the ISB had taken all her jewelry off her before - well. Before. She hadn't had any since. 

"Yeah, I took them off," she said. "They're inside, on top of my clothes chest."

"Saving them for special?"

"No, they just, uh, I needed to fix them."

He frowned. "Did they break?"

She gave in and admitted, "The metal made my ears itch, all right? But I'll get some varnish and paint the insides and I'll be wearing them every day again."

"Any kind of metal that doesn't make your ears itch?"

"Yeah, the kind that's too expensive for us right now." Which was why she hadn't said anything before. She nudged him. "Don't fret on it. I've had to do that with almost every piece of jewelry I ever owned."

"If you're sure," he said, still doubtful. 

"I'm sure. I love them."

Another chilly gust snuck over the wall. A shudder racked him, swiftly suppressed.

"Brass, you are cold."

"I'm fine."

"I felt you shiver. Here." She opened her blanket and draped it over him. He didn't argue further, just tugged the other edge around himself.

Draped over two, it didn't quite cover them. But the warm bulk of Brasso's body made up for it. She tucked herself up close to him and slid her arm through his, fitting them together. 

"Wouldn't mind some of that summer heat right about now," he said. 

"What'd you do for Last Night a year ago?" she asked.

"Spent it with some of the lads from the yard. Aladon and Denz. At their place. It was nice."

"I spent it with Timm,” she admitted, like a shameful secret. “For the first time. See what that got me.”

He tilted his head down towards hers. "I think that's the first I've heard you talk about him," he said. "Not even since we left home. Since he died."

"Well, he wasn't the most popular person in Ferrix, once it got around he'd called the Imperials in on Cassian. And people were strange about talking about him in front of me. Either they thought I should be a grieving widow or they thought I should spit at the sound of his name."

"Which is it?"

"I don't know. Most of the time I just want him alive so's I can kick his ass. What an idiot."

"Won't argue that."

She looked down at her feet and kicked them in the dirt of the yard. "Do you think," she said, mostly to the dirt. "Do you think if I'd just managed to love him the way he wanted - "

"Then we wouldn't be here?" Brasso finished. "Mmm. Maybe."

She'd expected him to deny it, and shot him a betrayed look.

"Then again," he continued in the same tone of voice, "if Cassian Andor hadn't riled up the corpos like he did, they wouldn't have been after him in the first place, for Timm to turn in. And come to think of it, if Maarva and Clem hadn't taken it in their heads to adopt a half-grown boy from wherever it is they found him, he wouldn't have been on Morlana to rile up the corpos at all. And you know, if Naboo hadn't elected Sheev Palpatine Senator in the first place - "

"All right!" she said. "All right. I get it."

"And," he said more quietly, "if I'd been able to hold them off a little longer, they mightn't've caught you."

He sounded actually serious about that. How long he been stewing on it? She squeezed his arm. "Even you couldn't have held them off that long," she said. "And where would I have gone, anyway? There were too many of them. If I'm not to blame, you're not either."

"No," he said on a sigh. "No. The ones to blame are the Imperial Shithead Bastards."

"Yeah."

They were quiet together for several minutes. 

"Don't feel bad about what you couldn't feel for Timm," he said in a low voice. “That's not really something you choose."

She sighed. She had a lot of regrets when it came to Timm. She'd taken advantage of his devotion, it was true. And she'd told herself that she'd made her own stance clear - just for fun, just to pass the time - when she knew full well he thought he could talk her into more. She shouldn't've let that go on. Look how it had ended. But - 

"You're right," she said. "Even if I'd  wanted to, I don't think I ever could've loved him. Not that way."

"My mum used to say hearts don't beat on command."

She swallowed hard, looking down at the dirt again, feeling her own heart - the one that had been so careless toward the man in her bed - soft and yearning toward the man at her side. "Be easier if they did."

He sighed heavily. "It would at that."

She cast about for a change away from dangerous subjects. "You don't talk about your mum much," she said. 

"Well, she's been gone a long time. Near twenty years. You remember her?" he asked, almost hopefully.

She wished she could say yes. But if she did remember Brasso's mum, it was as another face in the formless mass of adults that most little kids saw. "I remember people talking about her."

"And what is it they said?"

Better'n that Jakin ever deserved. Ardeth is probably the reason Brasso turned out so good. "Just that you're a lot like her."

He smiled as if he could hear the things she wasn't saying, and they fell silent again. 

"What time is it?" he asked after a while. "Can't tell without the moon."

"It said after two on the chrono when I woke up. So later than that. By a good hour, I’d guess. Maybe more.”

He sighed. "It's almost down at home."

The last moon of the year, a tiny sliver of a thing. Tradition said the old year ended when it set. 

She nudged him. "Go on then. Sing it down, Brass."

It was a child's tradition, singing the last moon down, so he sang a child's song, soft and sweet. It was a lullaby that Ferrix parents sang to their babies, so there had never been a time Bix hadn't known it, and probably Brasso too. 

He had a clear, unselfconscious tenor voice, and she rested her head on his shoulder and listened to the words for maybe the first time in her life.

It told of a bird in the depths of winter, in the ice and the cold, in the smoke of its breath and the chill of its toes. But the bird sang, defiant, promising the winter-frozen world that spring was closer than it had been at the start. 

He finished the song and fell silent. She shut her eyes and sighed, picturing the last moon slipping down over the horizon, leaving them all together in the pause between years, before the first sun rose. 

When it did, they would all rush out into the street if they weren't there already, shouting and cheering, blowing trumpets, banging drums. In the tower, the anvil sang out note after note of joy and greeting, until the Time Grappler's arms got too tired to go on. Superstition said the longer he could go, the better year it would be.

The adults kissed, at least those who had someone to kiss did, and the kids ran around screaming with the unhinged glee of kids who were so tired they couldn't see straight. 

Then everyone went home and slept for most of the day. 

The day after that, the salvage yard would reopen, the shop owners would put out their shutters, and normal life would resume. 

But before all that came these breath-held hours of darkness. 

"Bix," he murmured. 

"Mmm."

"I know it's not sunrise yet. But I'd like to kiss you."

She lifted her head and opened her eyes, and he was looking at her very steadily. 

She'd always thought his eyes were a dark grey, but this close, she could see green and even a touch of blue blossoming out from the pupil, like a common flower you never bothered with until someone you loved gave you a bouquet of them. 

"I'd like you to kiss me," she said. 

He lifted his hand to her cheek and closed his mouth over hers.

She'd kissed him once before, drunk and angry, and he'd stood there passive, like kissing a stone wall. She'd told herself afterwards, hungover and smarting, that she probably wasn't missing anything.

Oh, how wrong she'd been. 

His lips brushed soft against hers, lifting away, returning. His beard-scruff scratched, and he tasted of pernil and a hint of that rotgut and something that seemed to be just him. His hand was warm on her cheek, and if she could have lived the rest of her life in this moment she would have. 

His hand shifted, his fingers sinking into her hair, and a shiver went through her that had nothing to do with the cold. 

She wanted to deepen the kiss, slide her tongue into his mouth, crawl into his lap, guide his hands into her shirt, grind down until she felt him harden under her - 

And then what?

She turned her head, breaking contact. 

A year ago, Timm had kissed like this, in this same between time, and she'd taken him into her bed.

See where that got her. 

"Something wrong?" he whispered. His breath ghosted against her cheek. 

"It was lovely, Brass," she said softly, smoothing her hand over his coat-front. "But you've been drinking, and we're both of us homesick, and we - we're both the nearest thing to Ferrix either of us've got right now. So I think we should stop. Before we do something we shouldn't."

His fingers were still in her hair. He let them fall, the motion tugging softly and pleasantly at her scalp. "You've good sense."

"Not always," she said ruefully.

He got to his feet, the blanket sliding off his shoulders. 

She caught it, shivering with the loss of his body heat. "You okay?"

"Yeah." He looked down at her. "You should go inside. It's dreadful cold."

She got to her feet, slowly, trying to work out his expression in the darkness. Was he hurt? Upset? Annoyed? Relieved? "Are you coming in, too?"

He rubbed his hand over his face. "I think I should take a walk. Clear my head." 

"Yeah, all right," she said. "Don't you freeze out there."

"Not with this coat on, I won't," he said, and detoured around to the side gate. 

She went inside, hugging the blanket tighter around her, resisting the temptation to bury her face in its folds and try to catch a whiff of his scent. She told Bee that Brasso was fine, he'd just gone to get something they needed, and the little droid was wise enough not to ask what could possibly be needed so urgently that he went out in the wee hours for it. 

She washed the dishes the pernil and the sweet rolls had been in, and pulled out the beans to set them soaking - something she'd forgotten before she fell asleep. She took down all the blankets and sheets they'd washed and hung up to dry, making the beds with scrupulous attention to smoothing out every tiny wrinkle.

In all that time, Brasso still didn't come back.

She sat cross-legged on her bed, brushing out the tangles in her hair, trying not to worry. He'd been fine. He hadn't really had that much to drink. And he knew better than to go down by the sea. Especially as his own dad had drowned. 

When her hair was as tangle-free as she could possibly make it, she went to the table and pulled out her latest repair, a commlink with half its connections rusted out and needing replaced. It was barely worth doing, she thought as she trained her work-light on it. She wouldn't get much for it. Might be best to keep it for them, once she got a mate.

She tried not to worry. Or to think about the way his lips had felt on hers.

When the sky began to lighten, she put her tools away and went to sit on her bed again to watch it out the window. In the winter like this, the sun rose late. By her calculations, the new sun was well up on Ferrix. She sat listening to the silence where the anvil should be singing out notes of joy and luck and hope for the new year. 

Finally, she saw his familiar form turn the corner, silhouetted against the delicate pre-dawn light, and let out a sigh of relief. Then apprehension. What were they going to do? Pretend it had never happened? Have an awkward conversation? 

Kiss again?

No. She'd been right to stop them.

The door rattled, and his voice said indistinctly, "It's stuck again."

"Kriff," she said, jumping off her bed. Like everything else about this rented house, the door was old and half-functional, and the cold had made the lock especially stubborn lately. "Give me a moment - hah." The door slid open.

His cheeks were red with cold, but his eyes were clear. She looked up at him, and he looked away.

Oh. It was going to be like that.

But he said, "Hear that?"

"What?" She stepped out the door to join him in the street. 

"There. Shh." He held up a hand, listening. After a moment, he turned his head to smile at her, and then she heard it too. 

It was a bird.

A bird, alone, unseen, singing a high sweet song into the bitter air as the first edge of the new sun breached the horizon. 

FINIS

[bulbabutt]

stupid shit ruby would do: if a cardboard box was anywhere within his reach and he was able to open it he would piss in it. like he would be so fast about it. now theres an open cardboard box on my kitchen table and im crying cuz i dont have to worry about that anymore. left a cup of milk out? he's not here to lick out the excess when you're not looking. loose hairband lying on the counter? hes not here to find it. my counters arent sat on, the litter box doesnt smell, and im sad. im sad that hes not here to forcibly sit on my lap and crush my bones, that it doesnt take every ounce of strength to sit up from the couch. im not worried when the front door opens that he's gonna get too curious. hes not getting shut in rooms he shouldnt. im not tripping over the stairs trying to avoid stepping on him. i dont have to break up cat fights on my lap. god i miss cat fights on my lap. id never let him sleep in my room because he'd find something to break, or something to knock over. he'd push me out of my twin bed so i couldnt let him in. i would sleep on the floor and give him the whole bed if i could right now. id risk him knocking anything over. he literally tried to sit on my ps5, and those things arent even boxes so you know that didnt work. his dumbass thought he could jump on top of my flatscreen tv, its literally half a cm thick so he got stuck half way, from the front you just saw his fat butt hanging over the top, he couldnt grip anything or move himself at all. he was stuck for literally 1 second before i picked him up it was so funny and stupid. he knew how to be annoying to get what he wanted, just such a cliche cat. had to put his bowl away from my other cats so he wouldnt get distracted and decide to eat her food. only need one bowl now and theres more leftovers every time. i couldnt make popcorn or grab a bag of shredded cheese without him begging for a piece. i miss being bothered. i miss finding him standing upright while he took a piss in the litter box. literally two paws on the wall, one foot in the box one on the side, you'd turn the light on and he'd be standing to piss and he'd look back at you like "do you mind?" he used to lick the inside of the bathtub faucet. youd be on the toilet and look over and he'd be in the tub tonguing it. he'd just started in our new house wiping his paws on the shower curtain super fucking loudly, i think the thick plastic confused him. god that was loud. he was so annoying on purpose and i loved it. everyone loved it. wake you up at 5am feed me feed me if you didnt get up in time it was ok well now im attacking this pen. ok now im attacking this cup. gonna knock the mouse off your desk.

i wanna be woken up at stupid hours. i want my tv watching to be annoying. i want the litter to stink as soon as i clean it. its fucking bullshit.

[sugarrspice]

Let's go with number 4. I'm curious to see what you'll do with it :) -Trick

I am wagging my finger at you, Trickster dearest. Since I Saw Vienna by Wilbur Soot is your draw and it's a heartbreaking song. Let's see what we can do with it!

--

When Jackie's phone rings, he knows without even looking who it is. The caller ID is unfamiliar, but the timing isn't.

Balancing the bowl of meat and spices in one hand, he reaches across blindly with his only clean hand to accept it and balance it between his shoulder and ear. The phone is warm against his neck, and when Chase's voice echoes out of the speakerphone, tinny as only the shitty roadside payphones are, it feels almost like Chase is standing over his shoulder, arms looped loosely around him and chin resting on his shoulder.

His chest hurts.

"-was wondering if you had a late shift tonight, but then I remembered you'd literally eat your own arm off before you'd accept a weekend shift-"

He can't help the snort that bubbles up, and he wonders if hundreds of miles away- thousands, now, it's surely been long enough- Chase is smiling, too, in that self-satisfied way he always did whenever he made Jackie laugh at a stupid joke.

"How about you? Find work over there?"

He can hear the fabric rustle as Chase, presumably, shrugs. He always did this over the phone, forgot that the other party couldn't see him. It drove Henrik batty.

"For a few weeks, yeah. That's why I hadn't called. Working as a transcriptionist for this medical office; guess all that listening to Hen did eventually rub off. Wish I'd seen less pictures of someone's foot rotting off 'cause of something or the other going septic, though."

"Dude, gross," Jackie laughs. "You chose that job, you're gonna see some gross stuff. Doesn't mean I want to hear it."

Chase laughs, the sound strangely strained. Jackie's gut lurches, like he missed a step. "Right, sorry. Mister security guy is used to dealing with drunken black-outs, not people's limbs falling off?"

Another shuffling sound. Jackie swallows around the bitterness of the moment, wishes he could reach through the receiver of the phone, curl his hand around Chase's cheek. He wants to smooth away that tension, wants to--

He takes a deep breath in, and out. Gentles his tone, mashing the ground meat in the bowl with renewed force. "Or petty theft. You wouldn't believe how many old lady purses I've had to snatch back. Or the balls on some people."

Chase scoffs, a little, at that, and the tension in Jackie's chest eases with the moment. "No, I can take a guess. People get ballsy on the subway when they think you're asleep. I've had to kick so many people in the knees to get 'em away from my duffle bag."

"Are you being safe? You're not hurt, or anything, right?" Jackie can't help it; he blurts it out before he can second-guess himself, white-knuckling the phone in his hand.

Chase sighs, tinny through the phone, and Jackie has to swallow a lump in his throat as he hears Chase gentle his own voice in turn. "I'm fine, Jacks. I told you, don't worry yourself gray over me; I can take care of myself."

"I know you can," Jackie bites out. He's trying to keep his tone even, in turn, but he can feel the telltale prick of thorns in his chest again, the heat rising to the back of his neck and his eyes. "But it's- not that easy to just stop worrying, Chase. You ran off without a fucking word to any of us, call us maybe once every other month, won't tell us where you are--"

"Oh, we're talking about this now," he hears Chase mutter, away from the receiver, and scowls, setting the bowl down with more force than he really means to.

"We gotta talk about it at some point, Chase, and apparently we're lucky to talk to you at all."

He doesn't have to be in front of Chase this time, to know the way his expression is going to first shutter, and then blossom with irritation. Irritation, and then anger. There's a hissing sound, like Chase is sucking in air through his teeth, and he has to grit his own teeth together to keep from echoing the tic. He's not even sure, by now, who got it from where. If Chase had taken that piece with him, or if it'd been his from the start, if Jackie was white-knuckling on to the last bits he got to keep.

"I told you. I just needed to--"

"Henrik hasn't heard from you since last July. It's March now, Chase," Jackie says, voice going deathly soft. "Marvin refuses to talk about you. I've had to convince Jameson to not start looking for you, that you're fine on your own, and just need time. That it'd be breaching your privacy."

"What little of it I have left," Chase mutters, and Jackie shuts his eyes against the swell of emotion cresting.

"I thought you liked it here," he says, clinging on by the fingernails to his last bits of composure. "You said it felt safe."

"That's why I had to go," Chase snaps back, and Jackie frowns at the bowl of overly-mixed ground meat, picking at the name stamped into the interior of the bowl. "That's why I had to- forget it, just forget it."

"No, hang on, Chase--"

There's that familiar sinking feeling in his gut, again, except he's missed the whole damn flight of stairs. He doesn't- he doesn't fucking understand. He can hear the pain, raw as daylight, scored into Chase's every word, but now he's pulling away, slipping through his fingers again--

"Forget it. I- I have to go. I'm out of change. I'll call you soon."

Chase inhales, brittle and uncertain, and hesitates for a moment longer. Jackie gets the sense, terrible and certain, that if he lets Chase go now, they won't ever hear from him again. He shuts his eyes.

"We'll wait as long as you need," he says, instead, to the cool darkness behind his eyelids. The spices are gritty against his fingertips. "You know that, right? We'll always wait for you."

Chase doesn't reply. Jackie opens his eyes, half-expecting to see his lock-screen, to be met with the dial-tone. The call instead ticks on, in front of him, 10:37 emblazoned in that curlicue font Marvin somehow managed to keep his systems stuck in.

"It's not a burden," he says, quieter. Chase sucks in another breath, and then lets it out. Neither of them comment on if it's shakier than the last.

"I'll be seeing you, Jacks," he says, softly. Not quite a promise, not quite a farewell. Jackie white-knuckles onto it like it's the last thing he'll hear.

"I'll hold you to that," Jackie murmurs, and before he can second-guess himself, says softly, "we love you. I love you."

Chase huffs out a soft not-quite-laugh, and the dial-tone greets him. Jackie only shuts his eyes, holding close the whisper he'd heard over the static.

I love you too.

[talisidekick]

Any updates on the cat ears? :D

If you missed this update ...

... then welcome to:

I messed up the stitching and had to start from scratch.

[Start ID: A photo from an old Samsung J6 camera (poor quality for todays standards) of a bunch of loose thread and a "thread ripper" (a hooked and bladed tool for removing stitching from fabric). /End ID]

Basically, upon further inspection, we'd initially sewed through just the fur. The two pieces weren't actually sewed together by their base fabric. This meant undoing both of them. Some of the threads came out easy, others were more of a pain. The end result? A pile of thread and ...

[Start ID: A photo of two square (ish) pieces of faux fur, now fully separated from eachother. One in a rust-brown colour with 2 inch long fur, the other in white with quarter inch long fur. /End ID]

Two pieces of fur successfully detached from eachother. But this was where our (my spouse and I's) previous collab ended. They were too tired to help, so I took it upon myself and struggled for over an hour to make progress beyond combing/brushing the long fur so it exposed the clean edge of the fabric. My spouse eventually came into the kitchen to grab something to eat and noticed I was failing horribly. They instructed me to do this:

[Start ID: A photo of the two pieces of faux-fur fabric stitched together with a holding stitch. 4 pins are in the fabric still from where the two pieces were pinned in place /End ID]

Basically, pin it together so it holds then run it through the machine on a loose stitch called a 'holding stitch'. This would allow me to get the fabric pieces lined up so I can then run it through again and sew the other side in place.

[Start ID: A photo of the end result, the faux fur pieces stitched together on one edge with a small fold-over on the white fur to both 'grip' the long-hair fur and hide the stitching on the inside. /End ID]

The end result. The white fur basically forms a U where the long-hair rust fur fills the gap. This hides the stitching on the inside. I ran a finer stitch on this run as instructed by my spouse ... I also borked the machine a bit but my spouse fixed it ... I think I might need to look up a sewing machine diagram because this thing is basically magic to me, and I struggled for like 45 minutes trying to figure out how to fix it, and they did it in like 15 seconds. The skill gap between us is staggering and I'm noticing that painfully during this project. Humbling moments passed and it was time to insert the wire to hold it's shape and ... this was a chore.

[Start ID: Two pieces of the sewed fur on a desk, both with wire in them. One bent into the shape of an ear, the other left flat. /End ID]

This was actually the most tedious part of the process, that little 'U' that the white fur made has barely enough room to hold a wire in it, but you have to work it through the fur layers. I eventually found a tactic that worked easy and slipped them through. With this in place, it had been about 4 and 1/2 hours and I needed a break. I ended up stopping here because it was also now 8pm at night.

Not the end product yet, still working on it. I plan to do more today. Next up is sewing the white faux-fur together in a way that will hold the ear shape on the inside. This is going to be an annoying stitch to do, but it's necessary. Once that's done, I have to figure out how to stitch the bottom closed while maintaining the shape. I think the wires are going to help here with maintaining the shape.

As stated before, the goal is NOT to use glue so these will stand up to a bit of punishment. These are going to be my every-day ears. However, once I figure all this out ... I kind of want to make more. Different colours too. They've so far been relatively simple to make in comparison to some other sewing projects I've laid out for myself (gods help me, I'm going to try and make a dress at some point). Plus if I can find a place that sells the fabric that doesn't cost me like ...

[Start ID: A photo of a receipt. It reads: Item Total CA$16.73 Shop Discount - CA$4.19 Delivery Total CA$41.84 Subtotal CA$54.38 Tax Total CA$3.81 MB RST $2.73 Order Total CA$58.19

/End ID]

Yeah, the patch of fur was like cheap-ish, but shipping from Mississippi, United States is expensive for Canadians. I have to find somewhere local if I want to do more of this. However, if you're in the United States near Mississippi and you want to make an identical set, the fur is called "Gingerbread Brown Faux Fur, 2" Pile Fur Fabric, Vegan Animal Fur, Shaggy Long Pile Fabric, DIY, Fursuit, Pillow Craft Supplies" and is sold by TrendyLuxe on Etsy. I personally won't be buying from there again because it's too expensive to ship, I'll be looking for a Canadian supplier of similar products.

I'm not done with these yet, I plan to work on these more today, so I'll post another update later. These are looking awesome though.