#just got back to this post and ALAN FUCKING WAKE

[captainpissofff]

[ilkkawhat]

I know I've mentioned the Journal before, but this Saturday marks the one year anniversary of the day that I decided to play Alan Wake 2 for the first time, and my life changed for the better. I've used this journal to keep track of various gameplay stats (not pictured is the AW2 page where I'm literally keeping a tally of how many times I've played it which I'm in my tenth full playthrough); notes such as the stash puzzles, deer heads, etc though I still gotta finish the list of nursery rhymes and maps beyond cauldron lake; dreams I've had involving alan or anything remedy related; doodles and drawings (which is huge for me on a personal level cause I have this like. slightly traumatic experience with drawing early in my life that I won't go into detail here); and even a few poems I wrote...and I hadn't written poems since maybe high school.

This year has been rough on a personal level especially with work but like other cornerstone obsession's I've had, Alan's journey resonated with me on so many levels and gives me strength to keep going. The night I bought and played AW2 on a whim just because I saw a meme that "friendship ended with Silent Hill now Alan Wake 2 is my best friend" will go down as a tremendous turning point in my life. I was on a creative dry spell, I had stopped everything and never thought I'd start again, I had exiled myself from any sort of fandom space/interaction thinking I was poison, isolated myself to such a terrible degree from my family and friends, I was in such a deep depression and a new level of hopelessness than I had ever been in before, and I can just go on and on forever on how much this game means to me but the most important thing Alan Wake taught me is the beginning of the final draft, that realization that all is not lost, that my life is not just a loop of depression then fleeting joy then depression then fleeting joy then depression then fleeting joy (yes, sometimes I wonder if I'm bipolar) and his monologue sums it up best:

A fictional poet once said "Beyond the shadow you settle for, there is a miracle, illuminated." I will not settle for a shadow. I will find the miracle, through the night. It's not just victims and monsters; I see now, there are heroes as well. We can find our way through the darkness. We will break through the surface and crash into the light.

[koskela-knights]

It's Alan Wake 2's first anniversary damn....

I played the first game back in like 2018 or 2019 for a school assignment and am familiar with Remedy through PoTF instead of the other way around (many people who got to know the band through Max Payne 2 ofc)

Honestly, I didn't expect AW 2 to become such a hyperfixation but here I still am. My creativity regarding the game has decreased significantly and so have my posts but I still think about the Koskelas almost daily lmao.

(More of a vent and lament beneath the cut lol)

But to end a positive note, AW2 did incite my creativity again. So much, that in less than a year, I've written almost as much AW fics as potf fics which spans multiple years lmao

Plus, it made me fill over 10 sketchbooks, maybe another record in my fandom eras. LIke many others in the fandom, did AW2 lift my artist's block. For that, and some friends I made along the way I'm definitely grateful.

Hopefully, there's a day my pc or my console can run AW2 properly so I can actually experience the game itself.

I briefly browsed the Alan Wake tag as AW2 was about to come out and found there wasn't much of a fandom presence as there is now.

I think I came into the (awaking lol) fandom somewhat naive? Legit thought Ilmo would be more popular and thirsted after but boy was I fucking wrong.

Sadly I cannot fully share the sentiment of other fans and their sense of a family. I've ranted and vented about it multiple times before but I felt that majorly becos of my focus on unpopular characters, I kinda fell out of the fandom boat. Besides, my art style not being interesting/pleasing or whatever it was that kept and keeps notes low. I don't create just for notes, but I wish that my Koskela love could've reached more people and there could've been more interactions with other fans but often bumped into dead ends :P And in a way it just sucks that your works specifically don't get interacted with (versus others' similar works)

Also, I couldn't help but notice Remedy's own favouritism and how they don't promote some characters, even Saga who is a dual protagonist but oh well.

After the first months of hyperfixation and overdrive in drawing art and writing fics wore off, did I start to notice that clique vibe.

In that regard, I'm trying to just focus on the handful of contacts I have with some people and cherishing those friendships instead of trying to 'break into the circle' or get noticed 😂

--

[eddiehaley]

Thought I'd share my very specifically curated female!V playlist, for those who love a bit of electro house/electro fuzz/techno/punk and most importantly, "songs that make me think of that one specific scene and/or character and/or relationship".

And because I'm nostalgic for old tumblr playlists, here's a breakdown of every song and why I picked it under the cut!

Saint Laurent Women's Summer 19 (SebastiAn): this is really here for purely audio-aesthetic reasons. It's the boot-up/loading screen vibe, but with even more vibes. SebastiAn is one of my favourite electro-fuzz artists of the 2010s, and he's been doing the mixes for the YSL shows for the past decade or so (they're all vibes).

Lost (Roger Sanchez, Lost in Rave Mix): This is for all the messy, clubkid!Vs. She may be an ex-corpo, or a streetkid, or a nomad living in the city, but she's always at the club getting lost in the sauce. Also, 2077 Night City is so 2010s coded for me (a former 2010s clubber, don't look at me).

I'm in Love With You (MSTRKRFT): It's the Sandra Dorsett mission, hardbass Scav style.

Steriods (Mr. Oizo feat. Uffie): Streetkid!V vibes. Messy messy messy.

Total (SebastiAn): The Johnny thematic tracks have entered the building. I love the way SebastiAn blends punk/rock elements with electro fuzz, and this track is the perfect glitchy mess to represent Johnny's flashbacks. (Also, notice the hand claps coming back from the last track?)

Moving in Stereo (The Cars): Some calmer Johnny vibes. Key lyrics here are,

It's so easy to blow up your problems It's so easy to play up your breakdown It's so easy to fly through a window It's so easy to fool with the sound

Sleep Deprivation (Simian Mobile Disco): A more chill track for the inbetween of V dying/waking up.

The Prime Time of Your Life (Daft Punk): Another glitchy, punky track for that delicious V/Johnny overlap. V's apartment post-surgery.

Yeah Yeah (Bodyrox, D-Ramirez Vocal Club Mix): V's gotta pick herself back up, and pick up the pieces. Favourite lyric here, "You think that you can rub me out, but I'm made of something".

Priceless (MSTRKRFT): Some Johnny vitirol here. Also love once more, the electro fuzz vibes that gives off a futuristic punk sound that is very Johnny/Samurai.

"Priceless what's the point of owning if you won′t collect? Surprises I took the doctor's orders and I woke up wrecked. Try this surely you've got more to say to me than that? And buy this ain′t exactly what I had in mind instead."

Chrystal City (Alan Braxe, Fred Falke): Downtown Japantown vibes. Something more retro in sound, but couldn't go past those sirens and crowd noises.

Us (Brodinski, Bloody Jay): A little bit Tigerclaws, a little bit Japantown, a little bit Pacifica.

MSMSMSM (Sophie): V is ready to fuck some shit up. Was definitely thinking of the Clouds/Scav mission here.

Behind the Mask (Yellow Magic Orchestra): This is my Goro/V specific track. That classic, late 70's Japanese electronica sound fits his old-world vibe. But the lyrics are especially choice:

"Now the mask you're wearing is stoney and staring. Lines and tears age and fears growing old passions cold."

And -

"Behind this mask I ask is it me or is it you?"

Infinite Us (Machinedrum): Those fluttering chords, footwork-style beats and the overall dreamy quality lends itself to a Goro/V scene we never quite got. And that song title seals the deal.

Blade (Digitalism): Careening around Night City in V's sleek ride of choice. Bonus points for the glitchy vibes in the middle of this track; lends itself well to a Netrunner V.

You're a Woman, I'm a Machine (Death From Above 1979): Is it Johnny and Alt, or is it Johnny and V? The lines are blurred. Some perfect lyrics here (note that it changes from "you" to "our/us" half way through):

"You want it all Just like you should Our thoughts are pure Our thoughts are good Be what you want You'll have it all I've seen it once I've seen it all."

Tiger Rhythm (Surkin): Another pick for the straight up audio-aesthetic vibes. Violent, pulsing and with some Tigerclaw vibes of course.

Reflection (Charlotte De Witte, Enrico Sangiuliano): Apart from the relevant, simple lyrics this is such a club banger that would fit right into Night City (or maybe the Heavy Hearts?).

Vista (Jackson and his Computer Band): 80's electronica meets the cyber-esque beats of the future, with a bit of wistfulness for good measure. Reminds me of the Ultimate Edition trailer that dropped a few months ago, and makes me feel a bit like happy endings could be possible afterall in Night City.

U Still Lie (Machinedrum): It's a little bit LizzyWizzy at the Black Sapphire, and a little bit Never Fade Away.

[bmaxwell]

Game of the Year 2023: The Top 10

2023 was a great year for the videogames industry. A lot of great videogames were released in 2023. It was a fucking lousy year for the industry if you had a career there. It has been deeply disappointing to see record sales and critical acclaim alongside frequent layoff announcements. It feels like the pursuit of endless profit, whatever the cost. It's not sustainable and, as someone who has loved this hobby for my entire life, seeing the people who create games treated as disposable is disgusting. So, as much as this post and this blog are about YAY GAMES, there's also an undercurrent of filth that we have to keep in mind.

Apart from that, 2023 had its usual ups and downs for me. I played non-mobile games on my phone more than ever, thanks to two things: I got a Razr Kishi adapter to clamp onto my phone, turning it into a tiny Switch. Oh, and I got a pretty decent new phone. And Honkai Star Rail hooked me. That's three things.

Speaking of HSR, the ability to access cloud saves from my phone and my desktop PC was a godsend. This is true for Game Pass as well. Frequently I'd pull out my phone in the breakroom at work and pickup whichever game I'd been playing on Xbox, and it worked surprisingly well. I played a lot of Dead Cells this way, and finished Fuga 2 and Dordogne there.

If you'd told me at the start of the year that my best experiences of the year would include Baldur's Gate, a Harry Potter title, and an ALAN WAKE game, I'd have been pretty skeptical. But here we are. Also, if you're a theater kid I feel like this year had a couple of really special moments for you.

2023 also marked a return - at least somewhat - to the hobby of boardgaming. I was neck deep in the hobby from 2008 - 2015. I recently picked up Wingspan and it became a Sunday afternoon staple for myself, my wife, and our youngest child. I've missed the tactile non-digital experience of boardgames. It's nice to be back.

10. Honkai Star Rail

Well. You win universe. A gross free to play mobile game chock full of microtransactions and gacha mechanics is one of my favorite games of the year. The Genshin Impact people made a turn based RPG, see. And it's stylish as hell, and music is great, and when you get a new character from the loot boxes you get this little dopamine hit, and...

The game's events have been really surprising and well done. There's one involving staffing and stocking a museum, one involves shipping logistics, one's themed around ghost hunting. I wish I could have the $70 version of this game that isn't compromised by trying to squeeze players for money. The problem with that, of course, is that this game would not exist without all the bullshit.

But it feels good to play, it looks incredible, and I can swap between playing on my PC and my phone pretty effortlessly. So, despite the predatory MTX bullshit, I have really enjoyed my time with Honkai Star Rail this year.

I think my second biggest issue with live service games is that I don't get a sense of closure. I can't Finish Honkai Star Rail. And I'm not going to play it forever. So I get really into it for awhile (most of the year in this case) and just kind of...stop.

9. Goodbye Volcano High

This one is reminiscent of Night in the Woods; it's a coming-of-age story about anthropomorphic dinosaurs graduating high school, with all the fears and doubts that come with that. Some folks seem to have their entire future mapped out, some are just gonna work an hourly wage job and play D&D, and your character is serious about making a career in music. More serious than her bandmates are. Also, there's a meteor coming and it looks like it might hit Earth.

This game resonated with me on a few levels. The writing is great, the characters are well written and, unlike Stray Gods, the music landed for me. It does a great job of showing us different attitudes and values clashing into one another while making each of them relatable. The hope, resentment, and willful blindness of "My friends aren't invested in this thing we're doing together as much as I am" really blindsided me. It dredged up some feelings I haven't examined in years, both for better and worse. I didn't have much in the way of expectations for this game, but Goodbye Volcano High wormed its way into my heart. Goodbye Volcano High is the game mostly likely to be the game where I look back in the future and regret putting it outside of my top 10 for the year.

Hah! Suck it, me! Top 10 babyyyyy!

8. Pikmin 4

I've never really engaged with Pikmin, but this one was a blast. It does the Honey I Shrunk the Kids thing of "tiny dudes in a normal environment so it looks all big" thing that I love. Solve lots of puzzles by throwing little plant being at them. I love that the inspiration for the series was Miyamoto watching ants carrying leaves in his yard. It still has that feeling all these years later.

It feels odd to call Pikmin a relaxing experience, as you can and will lose Pikmin. Sometimes due to the natural attrition that comes with war, sometimes when the wrong little doofuses wander into water or fire, etc. There's also a timer, which is usually a dealbreaker for me. And the story revolves around rescuing fellow space travelers who have been transforming into mute plant people on this hostile planet. In fact the whole thing sounds like a pitch for a horror game. Despite all that, there's an easy charm to Pikmin. Your little astronaut dorks keep their spirits high, and there's playful music as you explore this huge, colorful world. I found it to be a great way to unwind at the end of the day for a couple of months this year.

7. Persona 5 Tactica

Persona 5 achieved mainstream success that the games before it never reached. Atlus has been milking it for all it's worth too - Persona 5 Dancing in the Moonlight, Persona 5 Royal, Persona 5 Strikers, and an upcoming Persona 5 mobile game. Some folks are feeling understandably burned out - I didn't get into dancing or strikers, and didn't play Royal (after putting 120 hours into Persona 5) so I was geeked when they announced a Persona 5 tactics game. On paper it's a strong pitch for me.

And in execution it's every bit as good as I'd hoped. My only complaint is the chibi art style. It isn't bad, just not to my taste. Beyond that? It's got the Persona charm, the banging music, and good solid tactical gameplay with just enough of a twist to not feel dull.

The "one more" mechanic from the series is key here, allowing the members of your 3-person team extra movement and actions. This is especially important because of the game's version of the all-out attack, which forms a triangle between your 3 party members and deals heavy damage to enemies caught inside. This makes combat an experience that rewards putting thought into. The game even has some side battles that are basically puzzles, giving you one turn to finish.

The game's new characters - Toshiro and Erina - are a welcome addition to the Phantom Thieves crew as well. I came around on Toshiro in a big way and was immediately in love with Erina. The game is about fighting against oppression and finding your courage to resist. Your friends are there for you when times are tough. It's hammy and melodramatic in the way that Persona is, and I love it. I love the game's revolutionary aesthetic, even if it's largely window dressing.

The DLC has been great so far too, starring Akechi and Kasumi in gameplay I can only describe if "What if Persona and Splatoon had a tactics baby?"

6. Diablo IV

The Diablo series has been the most consistently great video game series for me. I love the first 3 games and spent a TON of time with each. Diablo IV has the worst longevity of the series, but the best campaign. Now, I have to add a bunch of qualifiers here. The "best campaign" is a pretty low bar to clear. Diablo has always been - and continues to be - find new gear/numbers go up. The cutscenes are, as usual, top notch. While the story wasn't necessarily riveting, it was nice to have an antagonist with a personality and some ideas beyond RAWR I AM VERY EVIL RAWR. In fact, I was half-expecting the game to ask if I wanted to side with Lilith near the end, and I just might have done so. And the cinematic of the human army marching into hell while Lilith and Imperius have a philosophical discussion was incredible.

As for the replay value, maybe they'll find their way much like Diablo III did. My main issue with Diablo IV is the way new content is handcuffed to new seasons, how seasonal characters are siloed off from the rest of your characters, and how the game feels like it was built around microtransactions and milking money out of the player.

The game feels good to play. Abilities feel powerful and interesting, the loot grind is fun, and exploring the variety between the classes is a joy. Diablo IV is one of the best games released this year, it's just a shame that, like a lot of modern games, Diablo IV feels compromised, it feels like a Product in a gross way. Still, every previous game in the series has had a long tail for me, so I'm not counting Diablo IV out yet.

5. Darkest Dungeon II

Darkest Dungeon is my favorite game. I have a tattoo of it on my arm. It's impossible to expect a sequel to improve on that or even meet it. Subsequent journeys into a fiction can never be special in the same way that first one is, and Darkest Dungeon II is no exception.

The game is immediately recognizable - you'll see some familiar faces lined up in a tug-of-war formation against a group of enemies. A row of skills at the bottom of the screen, a torch at the top. Artwork with thick, dark lines and plenty of shading. The moment-to-moment gameplay IS a lot like the first game, but the trappings around it are not.

Gone is the persistent campaign of the first game, replaced by a more familiar roguelike structure. You embark on runs that either end in victory or failure, unlocking new things between runs. This makes the game more approachable and forgiving, but it means the lows are less low and the highs are not quite as high. In the original title losing your veteran Crusader you've sunk hours and hours into feels like a real gut punch, but by the same token finally - FINALLY - conquering the darkest dungeon feels incredible. Those extremes are lost in the sequel, and that probably makes for an objectively better game.

It's not just the same run every time; there are 5 chapters to conquer, each themed with a personal failing: Denial, Resentment, Obsession, Ambition, and Cowardice. The game's personality is still here in full force thanks to Wayne June's narration, Stuart Chatwood's music, that incredible artwork and gallows humor that I love so much. Each of the characters is treated as an individual with their own dark backstory this time around, each crafted in loving detail and unfolding by way of cutscenes and/or interactive gameplay moments. The stress mechanism is still here but takes a bit of a backseat, while relationships between characters are brought to the forefront.

Darkest Dungeon II is just what I wanted from a sequel to my favorite game. I'm glad they didn't just make the same again but prettier, but still kept the game's bones intact.

4. Like a Dragon Gaiden: The Man Who Erased His Name

Yakuza has become one of my favorite game series over the past few years. I'm down for whatever they throw at us. Bringing Kiryu back yet again? Sure. New protagonist? I'm down. A period piece starring the cast as historical figures? Fucking bring it on.

I love the series. The melodrama that hits me in my feels, the never-ending parade of lovable weirdoes and freaks in Kamurocho, the deep well of fleshed-out side games like bowling, pocket circuit racing, and karaoke - it's all here. I'm not tired of it. I thought I would be, but I'm not.

Kiryu is a lovable, stoic doofus with a strict moral code and penchant for helping out anyone who needs a hand. This time they gave him a Clark Kent disguise after faking his death, and also a bunch of James Bond Spider-Man gadgets. Let's go.

I will never get tired of my big hearted himbo beating people with bicycles and helping out folks in need. And I got misty-eyed at the ending. I was not prepared for my stoic boy to full on ugly cry. Still waters run deep.

3. Hogwarts Legacy

In the years since JK Rowling outed herself as a human shaped pile of garbage, I've distanced myself from the Harry Potter universe. And when Hogwarts Legacy released, the game was a lightning rod for controversy. I decided to see for myself, and was treated to a wonderful, smartly written game that managed to capture the magic of the world without constantly referencing the movies and books that everyone knows. It's the same trick that Jedi Fallen Order pulled a few years ago, and it works every bit as well here.

The school feels massive and detailed, and it was a joy to explore or just get lost in. The game world outside the school was unexpectedly huge as well, and the broomstick flight felt so good and natural that I rarely bothered to travel by floo. Optional side activities like growing your own plants for your potion brewing, decorating your Room of Requirement, and breeding creatures were all pleasant distractions that served to flesh out the world of Hogwarts.

The game's cast is fairly diverse, and most students felt like real people rather than caricatures of their Hogwarts houses. Most students do have their house traits, but they're not constantly front and center. The side stories and main story kept me engaged throughout my time with Hogwarts Legacy, and I was a little sad to see it end. It's a shame the IP has JK Rowling's stench on it, and that a lot of people will miss this game because of that.

2. Alan Wake II

Alan Wake and Control are both posterchildren for games with incredible world building and lousy game play. I've started both multiple times only to end up walking away in frustration. Alan Wake 2 largely fixes my complaint with those previous games by letting me explore and become immersed in the world without throwing frequent contextless fights in my way.

Alan Wake 2's combat isn't necessarily more engaging, but there's far less of it. What you're left with is the good stuff, a Twin Peaks-like horror mystery in a small town where everything and everyone feels a little bit off. Sometimes a lot off. It's a game where the characters play everything straight, but there are plenty of winks and nods in the margins. The game is full of wonderful freaks and weirdoes, many of whom had me frequently grinning like a fool. Alex Casey. Warlin Door. The Koskela brothers. Rose. Odin and Tor. Alan and Saga. Ahti. Thomas Zane. All hamming it up in a story that gets entirely up its own ass in the best way.

The Herald of Darkness scene is one of the best things I've ever seen. Ditto for the late game scene on the lakeshore. Hell, the game had me sitting and watching a short Finnish art house film at one point. It's a game full of glee and confidence from a studio with the belief in itself and its fans that allow it to swing for the fences. Not every part of it works for me, but the parts that do are so effective that the whole experience is lifted up on high. I wish Remedy's gameplay worked for me, which is never has. But this is a terrific work of art, and the good stuff far outweighs the bad.

Baldur's Gate III

My love of Baldur's Gate and the CRPG genre was something I'd left long in the past. Despite playing excellent modern entries like Divinity Original Sin, and Pillars of Eternity I hadn't been captivated by one of these in some 20 years.

It's hard to put into words what a triumph Baldur's Gate 3 is. I can't name a single thing it really does to revolutionize the genre but Larian executed on every single element of the game. Starting with the story, they make the stakes incredibly personal on top of the usual "Oh shit the world is in danger!" thing we always see. A mindflayer puts a parasite in your brain at the beginning of the game. World saving aside, getting that out of you feels pretty important.

Or not! You can decide to lean into it, and the writers did a great job of mixing viewpoints into the story. Mindflayers are horrible monsters but wait. Are they really though? Your party members will have their own opinions on the matter, as well as their own traumas and baggage and backstories. The writing and voicework for these party members are the best part of one of the best games ever made.

The game's ensemble cast might be the best of any game. By the game's end my party was my Tav, Karlach, Jaheira, and Astarion/Gale depending on the situation. There are party members I missed, and one I may or may not have killed (I regret nothing). Baldur's Gate III's story branches in so many ways, it all feels like it's a hair away from collapsing in on itself but it never does. My friends and I were exchanging stories about what we'd seen and done in the game as we played, and the variance is impressive. Baldur's Gate III is like a dude spinning plates while juggling chainsaws, and people keep tossing stuff into the mix and you think "Well no WAY can he keep all this going!" but goddammit, it all keeps going.

The way the game rolls with whatever choices you make (or dumb shit you want to try) whether in or out of combat, is truly incredible. It feels closer to having a DM than anything I've ever played. If you want to do something weird or dumb, the game does an incredible job of yes and-ing you. And it's not without consequences, the game reacts to the wide array of shit you can do within the D&D ruleset. The game sets up storylines both big and small early on, and manages to pay them off in interesting ways before it wraps up.

The combat was a sticking point for me in Divinity Original Sin 2. It's not that it was bad, but it was overwhelming. Combat could be long and difficult, and losing after an hour only to reload a save was incredibly deflating. Baldur's Gate 3 threaded this needle almost perfectly for me. Most combats were challenging but not crushing, and did not overstay their welcome.

I kept waiting for the game to drag and lose its momentum, but it never happened. I was glued to it for the entire 100+ hours it took me to roll credits. I fully plan on replaying it one day.

[illiana-mystery]

My Current WIPs

I was tagged by @eclecticwildflowers and @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky to post my current WIPs! I have four, so this is gonna be a long post.

The four in question are He Won't Hurt You (Bobby Hicks), Sugar Baby (Ed Blackridge), The Vampire's Jewel (Max Shreck), and Jumping the Broom (Alan Ward).

Taglist: @emilynightshade89, @yentoons

---

He Won't Hurt You

"Nev...Nev...Neveah, wake up. Wake up honey," he softly said as he shook your sleepy body. You hesitated to open your eyes, until you finally recognized the voice you just heard.

Soon you batted your eyes and smiled when you saw your old manager standing by your side.

He smelled of a fresh morning cigarette with a hint of orange juice and was wearing a pink short sleeve shirt with slight raveled jorts.

His utility belt was fascend firm against his waist, as his hands held the sides, flexing his muscles a little more.

He was quite the sight to behold after you woke up, although you wished he was still cuddling you in bed.

"Good morning, Bobby," you groggily said as you rubbed your eyes. "It's morning already?"

"Yes, and I need you up and at 'em," he demanded in more of a drill sergeant tone. "We got places to be and faces to see."

"Okay, sir," you hummed, making him blush. "Sir, yes sir."

"Nev, please stop. We don't have time for more fucking and you're making me horny calling me sir like that," he warned, his face turning even more red.

You laughed as you got up and out of bed.

"Okay, Bobby. I'll stop. Can I at least get a kiss?"

"After you get dressed," he said. "Time's a wasting. Tam's been blowing up my phone. She acts like she can't function without me around. I told her that I was helping you out and that we need to get your stuff out of that apartment before I come in. Juan's there though. So she can just get help from him."

You felt your blood boiling a bit from what he was saying. You knew that Tamara took your old job, but you didn't realize that she probably had a crush on Bobby too. And it really didn't make you think otherwise by his admission.

It wasn't a hard job, so you knew that she only wanted Bobby around because she liked him. So that only meant that this was gonna be awkward being in the same space as her.

"What am I gonna wear, Bobby? All of my clothes are at my apartment."

"Not to worry, beautiful. I already picked out an old army shirt and some cargo shorts for you to wear."

"Oh, does that mean I can wear your dog tags too?" you curiously asked.

"No, no, darling. Those are only for me to wear. Although, maybe I might oblige...if it involved you with nothing else on."

"That can be arranged," you hummed.

He just snickered.

"Enough," he sternly said. "Now get dressed and meet me in the kitchen. I made a breakfast smoothie for you."

"A tropical smoothie with a hint of coconut?"

"Of course. I do remember you always trying to drink all of mine every morning. I couldn't leave my cup unattended lest I be left with less than half of it."

You giggled.

"Well, it didn't bother you too much," you said as you began to put his clothes on. "I mean you did still fuck me last night."

"The heart wants what the heart wants," he teased before he left you to finish getting dressed.

After you finished and wrapped your hair up in a messy bun, you followed his instructions to meet him in the kitchen.

He was preoccupied pouring more almond milk in your smoothie before he finally looked at you. And when he looked at you, he was floored.

His old army shirt and cargo shorts looked so good on you. His shirt clung to your chest just right and his shorts hugged your ass and hips and thighs just right.

You looked like a model to him, a very sexy curvy model that he was lucky enough to bed last night.

"So, what do you think?" you asked as he finally came back to his senses.

"What do I think?" he asked as he walked around the island where he was standing and moved over by you. "I think...well I think you look gorgeous. Damn. My clothes look better on you."

He sealed his compliment with a heartfelt kiss, pulling you even closer to him as it went on.

"Thank you, Bobby," you said before a giggle. "Maybe you should let me wear your clothes more."

"I'm starting to be open to the suggestion," he moaned before he retrieved your smoothie. "Here. You ready to go now?"

"Thanks," you said once you took the cup from him. "Yep, I'm ready to go."

---

Sugar Baby

"You know, when I was a kid, I used to watch Mae do her and her daughter's hair when they were living with us," Ed started, bobby pin clasped between his lips. His hands were painstakingly braiding the last pieces of Alicia's hair that went along with the hair design he thought would look nice on her for the day.

"Mae was a master with hair. She could do just about any type of hairstyle that was common in the black community back then. It was quite impressive and I guess I just picked it up," he explained further, making sure he clearly answered Alicia's question of his skill. He was still a little too vague for her case though, but she let it slide.

"I'm honestly surprised. Seems like you were confused about my satin cap last night."

"I was. Mae and Loretta just wore their hair in scarves," he replied. "And honestly, I never really thought about how different their hair was from mine, just thought it was beautiful like yours. I mean Miss Mae was a housekeeper, but she still liked to look her best."

"I really would have liked Miss Mae," Alicia cooed. "She's sounds kinda like my dear mother."

Ed just chuckled before he turned her chair around so she could look in the mirror.

"Voila!" he cheered before he noticed the bright smile that now decorated Alicia's face.

He had braided the left side of her hair and wrapped it around the back, making a nice little design worthy enough for a typical hair show in Atlanta.

"Eddie! Oh my gosh! I love it! Thank you!," she said as she jumped out of her chair and hugged him.

"You're welcome," he happily said as he hugged her back.

"Oh my gosh, now I need to change."

"I don't mind you walking around in your swimming robe," he teased as he kissed her neck.

"Well, I mind, lover boy," she remarked before she went back into his bedroom to retrieve the old campus shirt and shorts that she packed.

Ed followed not too long after, but stayed leaned up against the bathroom doorsill. His hands were tucked into his distressed blue jeans, as his flexed muscles placed little wrinkles into his crisp white undershirt.

He eagerly watched her get out of her robe and into her clothes, which she noticed. Not that she mind though. He had seen her naked earlier.

"Enjoy the show, handsome?" she teased as she walked back over to him. He didn't give her an answer, but his baby blues did give her a good look over.

The baseball shirt she was wearing hugged her chest and waist just right and her shorts excentuated her sexy hips.

"Damn, she even looked good in casual clothes," he thought.

"My eyes are up here," she said with a giggle.

"They sure are," he retorted before he took her lips in a soft kiss. "You look amazing."

"I'm just wearing an old college shirt. But thank you."

"Honestly, you look good in anything...although I like you with nothing on too."

"Fresh," she remarked before she playfully punched his arm. He just laughed.

"Ready for the rest of the tour?"

"I was born ready."

Her response caused her older lover to laugh again before he took her hand and led her out the bedroom.

He showed her his guest rooms first — five in total and they were all designed with murals inspired by a Van Gogh painting. He told her how he hired a muralist from Manhattan to take on this task and how it took about five months to complete the project.

But he put up the artist in his own room and paid for his travels too and fro as well as his other expenses. To him, it was worth sleeping on the sofa for.

Alicia couldn't have agreed more, but she was curious what room he was gonna put her in. He smiled before he told her he though she would have liked to stay in the Starry Night suite. It was the largest room and had its own bathroom unlike the other four which had two shared bathrooms.

However, the guest rooms were rarely used anyway now. On that somber note, he brought her to his study on the other side of the upper floor.

The room was enormous and surrounded by Mahogany bookshelves that were overflowed with books of different genres. Honestly, it looked like a small library. But the centerpiece was a grand, large portrait of the Blackridge Family including Mae and Loretta that was above his large desk.

And Alicia noticed that the mother and daughter were wearing dresses that were as extravagant as Vivian's while Ed Sr. and Eddie were both wearing tailored suits. It was a lovely portrait and really showed how beloved Mae and Loretta were to the family.

"I made her laugh before we took that portrait," Ed admitted before he jokingly smiled at Alicia. "That's why her smile is so bright. Loretta didn't smile a lot, but she did around me. I made her."

"Sounds like you two were close."

"Of course. We grew up together."

Alicia giggled.

"I couldn't help but notice the dresses they're wearing too."

"Oh, yeah. My mom insisted that they be in every portrait, much to the photographer's chagrin. He didn't understand why we would consider the help family, but my dad would always back her up. So she would always make sure that Mae and Loretta had a nice outfit to wear too. Loretta and I were 15 in that picture."

"Malcolm looks like her," she observed.

"He does," he said with a laugh. "I've always told her that. She doesn't see it though."

She wanted to ask Ed more about his friendship with Loretta, but she decided against it and just went along with the rest of the tour.

The movie room was next on the itinerary and Alicia immediately observed that it looked like a viewing room on a Hollywood lot from the 1960s. But she liked the old charm of it.

The chairs were gold-finished with plush velvet" cushions and were put together in four columns and four rows. She wondered why he had so many seats, but didn't ask.

"You can sit if you would like," he softly said before she did. He followed after and smiled at her, making her do the same.

"I feel like I've gone back in time," she said. "But it's much cozier than how it would have been."

Her comment made Ed a little uneasy. Past memories of the mistreatment of his nanny and friend flooded his subconscious, but he tried his best to play it off.

"Yeah," he moaned. "This is actually an exact replica of the projection room in my childhood home. My mother loved movies, so my dad had it made for her when they were building the house. It was years before I was born. I actually get film from several movie companies every month."

Alicia was so in awe, she didn't respond. Ed grabbed her hand to get her attention again and she looked at him before he asked,

"What's your favorite movie genre? I can tweak my usual order for you and we can watch some movies together sometimes if you would like."

"I like just about any type of movie," she answered. "But I really like Action-Adventure, Comedy, and Horror. But I don't like gore."

"Noted," he said before he kissed her cheek.

---

The Vampire's Jewel

Your hand moved down your neck as your remembrance of him finally faltered. At this point, the scar he left you was but a mere mark. Nothing but a reminder of a night of revelry you shared only once.

But still, somehow, it was special to you. Deep down, you still loved him. It was obvious by how the Scarlet stain immediately made you think about him.

It still had been years though. Maybe it was time to move on. Sure, he claimed that your souls were bonded and that he would have to kill you if you betrayed him but how could he.

He left you alone the next morning after your encounter, without a proper goodbye. And vampire or not, that was just rude.

You still had hope that maybe you were still on his mind every now and then though. And you hoped he was safe wherever he ended up running away to.

Hell, maybe happily ever after was right around the corner. You hoped it was anyway. You spent way too many lonely nights over these poor years. You just longed for his chilly touch.

You moped for only a short while though as your yawns began to take over. Your tiredness won and eventually you blew out your bedside candle and got comfortable under the sheets.

Slowly, you closed your eyes and fell into a restful sleep.

But for only a short while.

Because you were soon startled awake by the noise of footsteps and heavy breathing. It was a frightening cacophony of noise, but still sounded so familiar.

However, you were frozen in place and didn't dare get out of bed to investigate.

The sounds stopped after a few minutes though, settling you back into peaceful sleep.

But as you dozed back off, the intruder made his way into your room. He crept in, barely making noise as he found his way to your bedside.

He really wanted to taste you again, but he became distracted by how pretty you were as you slept.

You were still as beautiful as he remembered, but he wondered if you would still find him attractive.

A lot had changed about him since the last time you saw each other.

Due to his new environment, his skin lost about ten years of aging and his hair started to grow back. Now, it was about shoulder length and flowing, but still as white as the tufts behind his ears he used to have.

His fingernails were still long and sharp, but trimmed to a more civilized length. And his clothes were updated to an era-appropriate suit vest and puffy shirt with slacks underneath.

He was a new man, a new man that didn't have to live in the shadows anymore. But although he had his new freedom, he began to miss you.

That's why he returned. He returned for you, just like he promised.

He just hoped that you would be able to adjust to the harsh coldness and darkness of his new home.

Slowly, he approached your face and stroked it with his chilly palm as his other hand moved to feel your heartbeat.

A smile appeared on his face once he felt the rush of your heartbeat and he quickly moved his head down to kiss your cheek.

You jolted awake once you felt his lips, before jumping back once you noticed the intruder's face.

Of course, you didn't recognize him so you reached for a sharp object to stab him before he jumped back and said,

"Greta, Greta. It's me. Schreck. Max Schreck."

"What?" you asked in a confused tone. You took a closer look at him afterwards, before you noticed his distinct yellowed eyes and fangs.

"Yes, it's really me. I've come back for you," he said as he kept his hands up.

"Well, it's about damn time," you huffed before you threw your blunt object to the side. "What took you so long? Why do you look different?"

"May I sit? It's been a long journey."

"Sure," you moaned as he sat down before he noticed the dried stain of Scarlet on your fingers. He licked his lips, alerting you that he saw the dried blood. You rolled your eyes, but let him lick it off.

"Thank you. I'm parched," he moaned after.

"I'll let you feed from me after you explain yourself," you replied.

"Good deal," he answered back as he sniffled you. "Mmm, you still smell of lilac."

"It is my favorite scent," you remarked. "Now spill."

Unfortunately, he had one more request before he did explain.

"Can I touch your breast?"

You rolled your eyes, but complied.

"Fine."

Swiftly, he squeezed your left breast which was his favorite. The low temperature of his pale hand made you wince, until he rest his head against your other breast.

Yes, his head was also cold but he was kinda cute like this. He was softly mewing as he kneaded your bosom, and rubbing against your other like a purring cat.

"Comfortable?" you teased.

"Yes," he purred. "I missed you a lot."

"I missed you too. That's why I thought you would come back for me sooner."

"I wanted to, but it wasn't safe. I traveled throughout the known world to find us a safe place to live, but I fell short. Every time I would get comfortable, I was driven away by angry humans. I was almost killed a couple of times," he began to explained. "I guess I can't blame them since I did kill their loved ones. And that was my life, until I settled in this remote village on the other side of Siberia..."

You were perplexed when he said that. He traveled all the way from Russia just to see you again. And not only that, but he traveled around the world just to find the perfect home for both of you.

You couldn't believe it. All this time, you thought he ditched you but he was just looking out for your best interest. Honestly, it made you love him even more.

"The locals there treat me like a god. I'm set up in an abandoned castle and I have willing feeders at my beck and call. They give me blood and I give them room and board in my castle. All of them were poor and homeless, so it's a win-win."

"That's lovely," you moaned. "But I'm not used to intense cold. Isn't it really cold there?"

"It is, but there is a way that you will be able to withstand it."

"And what would that be?"

"I want you to be my immortal bride," he cooed as he looked up at you. "By becoming a vampire. I can turn you tonight, while we make love."

"Schreck, I don't...I don't know about this. I mean will this hurt? Will I even change properly?"

"Greta, I'll take good care of you," he assured as he licked and kissed your right nipple. "Besides, you'll make a gorgeous vampire. And you'll live without fear of dying forever. I'll make sure of it."

"Well, I do like the sound of that," you murmured.

He widely smiled at you before asking,

"So you accept my offer?"

"Yes, yes. Turn me, please."

---

Jumping the Broom

He had the biggest smile on his face as he drove back home. He just couldn't wait to get back on one knee and propose to her again.

However, his plan was put on hold when he found his wife fast asleep on their couch. He was slightly disappointed, but still gave her a kiss on the cheek and pulled a blanket over her.

A soft smile reappeared on his face as she got cozy against the plush of the wool blanket as he put the ring box back in his pocket.

He turned the radio off after, realizing that Janie forgot to turn if off before she fell asleep. Then his stomach started to growl, so he went to the kitchen and found the stew on the burner.

Quietly, he went about rewarming their dinner and fixing them both a bowl. He figured the scent would wake her up.

And he was right. It did. As soon as the smell hit her nose, she slowly woke up. Her eyes batted open and she slightly stretch before she noticed the blanket draped over her.

That meant that Alan was finally home. Because he would always put a blanket over her if she fell asleep on the couch before he got back.

Happily, she jumped up and went to greet him. He was reading the paper she left on the table while he ate, so he didn't see her at first.

So she walked around to his backside and put her hands over his eyes.

"Guess who?" she teased.

"Is that my darling wife, Janie Marie?" he cooed.

"Yes," she chirped before she put her arms around his neck. He chuckled and gave her a kiss after.

"Sorry I didn't..."

"It's fine," he said as he folded the paper and put it where he found it. "I'm capable of fixing my own dinner too."

Janie giggled before noticing the bowl he fixed for her.

"Thank you," she said before she kissed his cheek.

"You're very welcome," he replied as she went to sit down and eat.

"That new paperboy always brings the papers after I leave for work," he suddenly said. "Good thing I'm not always checking the stock market."

Janie just laughed.

"He's six. Let's cut him some slack."

"Flynn and I were paperboys at his age. We always woke up with the roosters and did our job well and on time."

"Well, things work a little differently in Virginia than they do in Wisconsin."

"Fair enough," he relented. "You know, you season this better than ma does."

"I do have some Creole in my blood," she replied. "Spice is just a part of my DNA."

"I'm glad. This is just the kick I needed."

"How was your day?"

"It's was a bit chaotic. Glad I have Eric though. He kept my head on straight all day."

Janie laughed.

"I'm glad you have him too. He's the friendliest Brit I've ever met."

"How was your day?"

"I finished my errands. But I bumped into Mary, Betty Jean, and Cindy Lou at Macy's. So I spent most of the day with them at the shopping mall."

"Oh, well that's nice. I'm sure Mary appreciated it."

"Yeah, it was. I just hate that Paul told his girls to call me Miss Guillory instead of Mrs. Ward because we're not legally married and I'm colored..."

"That bastard just gets more and more likeable by the day, doesn't he?" he grumbled trying not to get too angry. Although, his face did get red and he did tighten his fists.

"I'm not trying to work you up, Alan. I just needed to vent."

"Rupert also made me mad."

"Oh no. What did Mr. Jessup say?" she asked.

"He was talking about how you aren't actually my wife and how I'm only shy about my big case because I'm with you...a colored woman. Like how dare I not want to make that bust all about me when it isn't my struggle."

"Ugh, I really hate him sometimes."

"Eric had my back though. He told me that we can legally get married now due to the verdict of that case."

"Yes, I know. I'm so excited. I'm glad things are starting to change."

"Me too," he said with a big smile. "Now, what's for dessert?"

"Why don't you check the oven?" she teased.

"Okay," he said with a shrug. Once he checked the bottom compartment, he found the banana bread she baked.

He took it out but then noticed a strange hole in the middle. So he poked his finger in and felt a little plastic toy. He took it out and it was a little baby rattle painted pink.

His eyes lit up before he looked over at his wife. She had turned her chair around and had a big smile on her face as she rubbed her belly.

"Janie..."

She giggled.

"Alan, I'm pregnant. You're gonna be a father."

The excitement Alan felt suddenly was overwhelming. For the past three years, he desperately wanted a child and now his dream was becoming a reality.

He threw himself on the floor in front of her and just started to cry tears of joy. Janie smiled and cradled his head against her stomach as he kept kissing it.

"When did you find out?"

"Last Thursday at my doctor's appointment," she answered. "I wanted to wait to tell you until we got the verdict for the case."

"Janie, this is wonderful news," he said as he kissed her tummy again. "I'm so happy. I love that you put that little rattle in the bread."

"Betty Jean picked it out at the doll store at the mall."

"Of course she did," he said with a giggle. "I'm finally gonna have my little June Rose. Oh, I can't wait to hold her and read her bedtime stories."

Janie giggled before she ruffled his hair.

"We don't know what we're having yet."

"I just know. Father's intuition. And I love her already."

"She loves you too," she hummed as her husband looked up at her with watery eyes.

"I'm so glad you told me. Which means it's a good time to also do this," he said as he pulled out the ring box and got on one knee. "Janie Marie Guillory, would you make me that happiest man in the world and legally marry me?"

"Oh, Alan," she cooed before she began to cry. "Of course, I will."

---

I hope to have these chapters fully updated sometime in July. 🤞🏾 Hopefully, I can get through another bout off writer's block by then.

But until then, enjoy! 😁

[scratchwake]

oh @bunny-heels you are going to regret this

gonna put all of the story stuff and drawings under the cut because thisll be a very very long post

basically, the ocs name is Rosalind Carr! she/they pronouns. during the events of the game was currently staying with family in the Bright Falls/Watery area

her design isn't really small town looking, but that's because I wanted to give her a very fish out of water city girl feel, since she's originally from NYC, so I went for a lot of modern city fashion, like mesh shirts and such, I wanted to make sure she stuck out as someone who is very much not from the rural PNW

but enough about her and more about her silly little relationship(?) with scratch!casey (and also, actual alex casey)

starting with her relationship with casey, she was kinda like a rebound sort of thing after The Divorce (what can i say, im a slut for divorced men) and obviously because of that it ended poorly. (okay, well, Kind of a rebound, some of it did overlap with the marriage because I'm also a slut for affairs)

but, before it ended, she started staying in BF with some family, which is part of what got casey interested in the murders there, because he was kinda worried about her getting fucking murked

but of course, the break up happens and he cant just back out of the case (and he doesnt even want to, anyway), which creates some VEERY awkward interactions during the events of the game. hes still somewhat interested in her, and shes still quite pissed off at him

then, game shit happens, and scratch possesses casey. and its a bit like

scratch: "eugh, this new body is so clunky and weird. but that doesnt matter, as long as i make this ending happen, it'll be all good."

rosalind: *exists for over .5 seconds, literally just trying to not die, having been roped into all this by sheer circumstance*

scratch: *immediately becomes filled with insatiable lust because now that he occupies caseys body, he can feel every less than convinent urge casey gets (like fucking on the job) amplified tenfold*

so he just. starts annoying her. she KNOWS hes not casey, which is probably why she entertains it rather than hiding in a hole until everything is okay again

and without further ado: her design, and a doodle of her and scratch!casey based on my first post about them (disclaimer: im still learning how to draw sam lakes face so PLEASE gimme the benefit of the doubt here lol)

basically, though-out the whole deerfest section, you have this poor woman who knows she's forgetting something and KNOWS something is wrong and the whole time there is this fucked up version of her ex trying to get in her pants (and honestly? lowkey succeeding.)

imagine being her, laying in bed next to a fucked up and evil version of her ex boyfriend while he rambles about famous missing author Alan Wake and how they need to "become one"

it's kinda like a, me my boyfriend and my boyfriends giant plushie situation except none of them are together and scratch is just insane

if anyone wants to know some random facts about her, flick me an ask! she is my baby and i love her so much (i am cringe but i am free)

[froggi1337]

Was a little anxious to post this, but here goes.

Who’s your favorite character to write?

Perhaps my favorite character to write was my Mage: The Awakening character: Jonas Moore, shadowname, “John Doe”. He was a rookie cop in the wrong place at the wrong time with his mentor and partner. They walked into a wizard trap and got their shit fucked up, Jonas surviving as unscratched as he did only because his mentor was in front of him as the entered. This awoke his mage powers, however, he awoke in a coma and spent the next week trapped in a world of nightmares. He'd wake up and vanish to parts unknown, returning anonymously with the shadowname “John Doe” some years later to investigate his partner's death. I had a lot of freedoms with that character I hadn't been able to experience through a free-form social media roleplay on Formspring (if anyone remembers that), and I think the game experience has a lot to do with my fondly remembering of this character more than anything.

An alternate take I didn't want to throw out was: My favorite character to write was perhaps Virgil Wayne in a JoJo's Bizarre Adventure roleplay called Port Holiday. It was my first positive roleplay experience after The Cards, even if it was mired by the usual internet drama that follows those kinds of open rp communities. But I digress, I look back on Virgil and the things I got to do there very fondly and I hope to find an experience half as good as the one I had there one day soon. My experience roleplaying Mage beats out Port Holiday mostly because I didn't have my own story arcs indirectly shelved by my friends in my tabletop game as opposed to the fandom roleplay which actively ignored me.

Who’s your least favorite to write?

Off the top, it's Joseph Johnson, aka, the Ace of Hearts. He's always been such a nothing bro character, and I've tried to overhaul him multiple times in the past but getting stuff to stick has been difficult. I've got so far as to consider shelving or outright scrapping the character, and giving his role to one of my more capable characters. Then again, it isn't like I haven't made progress with Joe's development... I just wish his fleshing out process would go smoother!

Who’s your favorite character overall?

This was one fluctuates quite a bit, especially these days as my little universes of characters slowly expand. But honestly, I'd be a fool if I didn't acknowledge my roots and admit I come back to my favorite dirtbag, Francis “Fran” Daniels. She's been with me since I was a wee child, and even transitioned alongside me irl and fellow mainstay OC Victoria Wayne.

Which character(s) do you love to hate?

There's one clear winner by a mile, it's Alan McGregor. I wanted to make Alan as obviously toxic with his personality as possible, for a villain like him. He's taking advantage of a lot of people and a lot of them don't even require his super intrusive telepathy powers. I lifted inspiration from the big name Republican politicians of my time (yes, especially Trump).

What’s the easiest thing to write for you?

I like to think if nothing else that I'm quite good at openers. I love to try and set decent scenes for readers, gives me a chance to build a new scene and place new and interesting characters together that likely haven't met before. What's not to love?

What’s the hardest thing to write for you?

The moment we go beyond an intro, I lose track of the story. Weaving a narrative is much harder than one might make it look. The establishing shot of the story is great and all, but I also have to write the rest of the story and that's the hardest part for me.

Do you plan everything out before you write or do you sit down and go with the flow?

No, my writing sessions have always been more impromptu; although, my goal this year's to improve my relationship with work. I want to try and actively work on planning out what I'm writing more often (not starting not lol).

What songs do you listen to get in the writing mood?

I usually put on a scramble, although suggestions are welcome! Additionally, it's really easy for me to write for Fran when I put on 'Sound of Silver' by LCD Soundsystem or Van Halen/any 80's dad rock. Alan is easier to write or otherwise plan out in my head to musicians like Kanye West or MF DOOM.

Do you have songs that you associate with certain characters?

Buddy I've debated making whole playlists lol

How do you get around a writer’s block, if anything?

Weed.

Is there a certain type of character you favor writing over the others?

The snide bad boy with a soft streak is a personal favorite of mine, I'm also a fan of guy who's a deranged bad ass in spite of the circumstances against them. I love a good underdog story!

What is one character you love but rarely/never write?

I love Tomas O'Valen! My beloved red mask wearing boy rarely sees the sun anymore, and while I'm sure that's fine and dandy for him mommy says he needs his vitamin d

Is there one character that always fights you when you try writing them?

I get a lot of resistance from Leon, I think it's because I've been kind of anxious about him being a little bland compared to everyone else. Compared to everyone else, he feels less finished but I'm not to worried. His part in the story of the world he's in comes much later.

What is your go-to ‘self-indulgent’ genre of writing (such as comfort, angst, enemies to friends, etc.)?

You'd have to find my F-List for that one, and I don't give that out to just anyone I'll have you know.

I kid, I kid. I'm very self-indulgent about fight scenes, I'm that kid always banging their actions figures together. Pushing them to their limits, seeing how much I can make them physically and mentally break each other. Plus seeing two characters at odds go against one another like good vs evil is always fine, even if the characters aren't always morally black & white. Because who cares, this motherfucker carries six pistols because he watched 'The Boondock Saints' in theaters and thought that one guy was “cool as fuck.”

What two characters did you never expect to work together?

I didn't expect Tomas and Fran to have as much equal ground to stand on. Sure, in-lore Tomas knew Francis' grandfather and father but she was never fond of those people (especially her grandpa, he was a sourpuss in his old age by the time they met). And yet, Tomas can be considered a sort of family biographer by now, having personally known and befriended 3+ generations of Fran's family.

What’s one writing weakness you want to work on?

I need more creative stamina or energy while writing, if this questionnaire has taught me anything. Once I'm started it's great, I'm on a roll and I can bang out a start in a heartbeart, most the time. However, it becomes quite clear when I start to lose steam while writing, and I want to work on that. If only to at least hide my exhaustion on paper.

Are you prone to leaving unfinished WIPs or do you strive to finish everything you write?

In hindsight, not as many one might think lol

What is one theme/storyline/idea you wish to write but never have?

Well, a FULL story is any kind of answer. But I jest, I want to write sci-fi. More specifically mecha, I absolutely adore Gundam and I'd love to build dioramas and write little stories centered around them. Hell, I'd love a shot at building my own original setting for a mecha sci-fi. I have a little bit of one Aon paper, but I put in on the back burner due to the scope being a little overwhelming for me at this stage of my writing career.

What is one story idea you have in your head right now?

Francis Daniels throws Drake Morrison in front of a train lol

Random Writer Questions

Can be for canon, non-canon, fanfics, RPs, OCs, or anything in between.

Who’s your favorite character to write?

Who’s your least favorite to write?

Who’s your favorite character overall?

Which character(s) do you love to hate?

What’s the easiest thing to write for you?

What’s the hardest thing to write for you?

Do you plan everything out before you write or do you sit down and go with the flow?

What songs do you listen to get in the writing mood?

Do you have songs that you associate with certain characters?

How do you get around a writer’s block, if anything?

Is there a certain type of character you favor writing over the others?

What is one character you love but rarely/never write? 

Is there one character that always fights you when you try writing them?

What is your go-to ‘self-indulgent’ genre of writing (such as comfort, angst, enemies to friends, etc.)?

What two characters did you never expect to work together?

What’s one writing weakness you want to work on?

Are you prone to leaving unfinished WIPs or do you strive to finish everything you write?

What is one theme/storyline/idea you wish to write but never have?

What is one story idea you have in your head right now?

&- Free slot, ask your own question here.

[amtcurlyq]

Birthday Wishes

Career Woman masterlist: https://amtcurlyq.tumblr.com/post/682372906131570688/wingwoman

Louie: Happy Birthday

What the fuck? I throw my phone across the room. “Harry!”

Bernard pops his head in the open door. “He’s out, Miss.”

“Where?” It’s my birthday. I mean not really but...

“It is my understanding he’s been at Ms. Alan’s since yesterday.”

“Oh.” I look back at my phone. “Thanks, Bernard.”

“Happy Belated Birthday, Ms. Grant.”

I unlock my phone. I swipe away the latest notification.

Gwendolyn

Louie just texted me Happy Birthday

No answer

MJ

Hey you won’t believe who  texted me today.

There’s no way she could resist a mystery. I lay back in bed to wait for her reply.

I wake up two hours later. Still no reply. Peter texted Happy Birthday. I say ‘Thank you’. I could probably start getting ready. If I take my time, I’ll finish around when it’s time to go.  

Everyone’s at Nuts and Bolts, when I get there. “Happy Birthday, Ginger!”

“Hey!” I hold up my arms. Everyone surrounds me in a big hug.  

“You look hot!” MJ says. They lead me to the table they had been standing around, where a girl with short blue hair is waiting.  

I trip on my high heels. MJ keeps me from falling. I grip her arm. “Someone’s been pregaming without us.”  

I lean against the bar. Peter downs another shot with me. I laugh to myself as I sway back and forth. “You’re not even a little tipsy, are you?”

Peter chuckles with me, putting out a hand to stop my swaying. “It’s your birthday we’ll keep trying if that’s what you decree.”

I sit up straight. “I am the Birthday Queen.” Liz and Harry were grinding on the dance floor. I turn back to Peter. “You know could’ve brought Gwen if you wanted.”

Peter shakes his head. “Gwen’s my girlfriend. I didn’t wanna invite anyone else to your party.”

“I like Gwen. She’s nice.”

“I know you like to be the center of attention.”

I smile to myself. “You get me.”

“We’ve known each other for a long time, Ging.”

I smile to myself. I have to be careful. I should change the subject. “Why didn’t you tell me you lost your job?”

Peter sighs. “I don’t know. I knew Harry would try to lend me the money and I guess I just wanted you to think I was alright.”

“What does that even mean?” I slur. Peter pushes my hair behind my ear.

“Gwen doesn’t know why I lost my job.” I sigh. “I already knew what you’d say.”

“Drunk Ginger may have something else to say,” I muse.

Peter laughs. “All these years later, I’m still trying to impress you.”

The warmth spreads through me warmer than the alcohol. “You know I’d never judge you. And I’m certainly in no position this year.”

“I think it's really brave what you're doing, Ging.”

“I don’t feel brave. I’m actually really scared like all the time.”  

“It may not go the way you want. But you didn’t want to be a doctor. You’ll always regret it if you never tried. And if acting doesn’t work, I promise that we’ll still be here. You’ll find what’s for you. It might be something you never expected.” Peter is just trying to calm me down but I know he would never lie to me.  

“I wish MJ didn’t have to leave.”

“Yeah. Who’s gonna insult our intelligence?”

“You know your gonna have to take me home all by yourself.”

“I’ve got practice. I can stay over watch some Audrey Hepburn or Gossip Girl.” I try to push away the memories of us laying on Aunt May’s couch, sneaking kisses when she left the room. 

Sending Peter away at my door, I couldn’t hold back anymore. I cry. I don’t care if he can hear me down the hall. I can’t choke it down anymore. The pain chipping away at my heart everyday, worsened everyday. I’m just so alone. And the thought of trying to fill that void hurt worse than the solitude. I lay my hot face against the cold counter. It felt good to just let it out. Finally.

I open my phone and remember the text I received this morning.

Louie: Happy Birthday

Me: Thanks. It’s nice to  hear from you.

[davecall93]

Alan (7)

Alan and Richie were enjoying a surprise moment of intimacy. Unthinkingly, Richie had put dish soap in the dishwasher, and their kitchen had become flooded over with suds. Richie had smiled sheepishly as Alan laughed at the sight, coming upon the disaster at their return from the grocery store. Richie had pouted as Alan loaded the cart with his favorite snacks, acting, as always, unashamedly, grabbing party-size chips all while asking Richie how he could help his more and more fitness-obsessed boyfriend with meal planning. As they cleaned up, teased each other, and commented on how much cleaner the floor was, they felt like the couple they had started out as.

As he watched his boyfriend bend over, his once flat ass slightly more rounder and his belly hanging beneath him, Richie felt, for the first time, there was something undeniably cute about his boyfriend, even at a larger size. What’s more, he remembered how much of a partner Alan was, fussing over him, supporting him, and, as he was now, cleaning up after him.

As Alan bent over, Richie stepped over the suds and put his pelvis against his boyfriend’s ass. “You seemed to have dropped a lot of soap, private.”

Alan rolled his eyes and smiled. “I think you’ve got the wrong person.”

“Disrespect as well? I think you’re in need of some discipline.”

Alan, realizing Richie was in the mood (or reluctant to clean up), back slightly back into his boyfriend. “Maybe,” he said, “maybe I do.”

They were in bed before they had completely finished, and Richie had his hands around his boyfriend’s growing love handles, drinking in every moan his thrusting cock forced out of Alan. When they had both finished, the two curled up and Alan could not help but notice how unselfconsciously Richie had his arm around him. He wondered if it couldn’t always be like this.

“I have the sexiest boyfriend,” said Alan, who knew it was Richie would want to hear.

Richie smiled and squeezed Alan. Richie’s own body had gotten harder, leaner. He felt very proud of it, very masculine, as he felt proud of his sexual prowess. He had become more confident in the last few months. He realized how much he missed enjoying his boyfriend’s body and suddenly he felt a pang of guilt for being so withholding over the last months.

“I am sexy,” said Richie. He decided to push his luck and see if he could get a little worship out of Alan.

“Huge dick, shredded abs, tight firm ass…”

Suddenly, Richie squeezed Alan’s belly and said with a bit of a snarl. “You should be thankful…look at yourself…”

Alan decided to try something as well. “I’ve been trying to diet for you…like you tell me to, sir…but I just can’t control myself…” Alan could feel Richie jolt a bit behind him.

“How hard is it to keep the donut out of your mouth?” He turned Alan on his back and straddled himself over him, lording over him. “See this? All discipline.” He ran his fingers up and down his flat stomach. “In my house we’re disciplined, and it’s high time I reminded you of that.”

RIchie bent over and leaned up close to Alan’s face. “Diet starts tomorrow. But let’s give that fat ass of yours a send off.” He turned Alan over, slapped his ass hard as he thought he could, and pushed Alan’s head into the pillow. Alan had grazed one of Richie’s sexual nerves: punishment for disobedience.

The couple enjoyed a second round, and Alan was lost in ecstasy. Richie was making love to his body and not in spite of it. As they finished again, they cuddled again, Richie’s hand on the center of Alan’s stomach.

“I’m kind of a jerk,” said Richie out of nowhere, drowsily, ready for a nap.

“I don’t know. You said you were a libertarian when we met and now you’re…” Alan paused. “Well, I knew you would be a lifelong project.”

Richie chuckled, turned over and went to sleep. Alan got up, cleaned the kitchen and made himself a large sundae as he waited for his boyfriend to wake up from his nap.

That night, as the two agreed to order pizza. When it came, Richie ate one slice, ate the entirety of the side salad, and then said he was going to answer emails. “Diet starts tomorrow, fat ass. So that better not be in the fridge when I get up in the morning,” he said, pointing to the pizza.

“Don’t you want some for tomorrow?”

“Just do as you're told.” Richie went into the bedroom and shut the door behind him.

Alan worked on the pizza throughout the night, going to bed late and sleeping through Richie’s alarm. When he got up, he noticed that all his purchases from the day before were missing from the kitchen and there was health magazine article printed on how to strategically count calories.

He had a good curse at Richie and realized that this could be the real signal of the end of things. “Fucking controlling asshole. Was fucking too good to be true…”  When he went to grab his coat to go out and buy more, he saw a box that hadn’t been there the day before. On it was a post it note that read in Richie’s chicken scratch: “Richie’s stuff — KEEP OUT!” Alan opened it and saw almost the entirety of everything he had bought yesterday.

Alan was stunned. “So that’s your game,” he thought, as he pulled out a bag of cookies and went to eat them as he lay on the couch watching daytime TV.

Richie called around 1:30 asking if Alan had read the article, saying he knew he did not want to be mean but it was for his own good.

“You’re the man of the house,” responded Alan.

“I’m gonna have to come down hard on you if you cheat, you know. I’m doing this for you, and I would hate to be disrespected.”

Alan put a whole cookie in his mouth, chewed, swallowed and then finally said a minute later,  “I know, sir.”

“Excuse me, are you eating something?” Asked Richie.

“No, sir.”

“That’s what I thought.” Alan reveled in finally having found a way to draw Richie in. He went to the grocery store and delicately replaced the bag of cookies that he had eaten (and "stealthily” added some candy bars).

When Richie came home, he had a wrapped up piece of cake from an office birthday party. “I didn’t want to be impolite so I took a piece but you know I don’t eat this stuff…” He looked at Alan and sighed. “And you’re on a diet. I’ll just leave it here; would you toss it?”

“Of course.”

“I’m gonna take a shower,” said Richie. While Richie was gone from the room, Alan scarfed the cake down, cleared all evidence, and was reading in the couch as Richie came out, a towel wrapped around him, his torso still damp.

“Did you toss the cake?”

“All gone,” said Alan.

“Good,” said Richie smiling devilishly. You don’t need any more temptations right now.” Alan ran his hand up and down his abs. “Nothing more than this.” It struck him that while he didn’t know about how he felt about a fat Alan, he did know that he couldn’t deny how hot it seemed that the evidence of his disobedience would be there, hanging off his body, trembling as Richie fucked his brains out to remind him who was the authority around here.

This was an arrangement Alan felt that he could quite happily live with.

[wayward-mikaelson]

Sixth Gear

Word Count: 4287

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Characters: Jensen, Reader, Marie (OG Character), Nathan (OG Character) Dylan (OG Character), Donna Ackles, Alan Ackles, Mackenzie Ackles, Joshua Ackles, Jared (Mentioned), and Misha (Mentioned).

About: Reader goes home for the holidays only to be introduced to Jensen, the star of Supernatural. The Reader and Jensen hit it off that first night where one thing leads to another until the readers Brother walks in on them about to rip each others clothes off. For the next few months the Reader and Jensen get to know each more. Then the Reader decides to go home for the Summer just to see Jensen and he shows her his motorcycle and how it all works where one thing leads to another.

Warnings: Language, Angst, Fluff, Smut, Unprotected Sex (be responsible, wrap it up), Drinking, Oral Female Receiving, Mention of Drugs

DISCLAIMER: This one shot does contain a toxic parent and everything that comes with a toxic parent. That means there will be manipulation, gas lighting, emotional/psychological abuse, etc. If you live or have lived with a toxic parent and or person please read at your own discretion. 

DISCLAIMER 2: Any of the shorts that are hot and steamy, I want to put out there that it's in no way disrespectful towards Danneel at all. I love her to death and respect the crap out the marriage between her and Jensen. So when reading those shorts, know that it all takes place in an alternate world where they aren't married at all.

A/N: If you have a small request, shoot me a message. Request close 7.11.2020 at 11.59pm US central time

A/N 2: Do you want to be tagged in future fanfics posts? Comment Below!

A/N 3: This took me 3 to 4 days to write so I really hope you enjoy this hot and steamy motorcycle ride.

Requested by: @magssteenkamp​ 

Tag List: @hobby27​ @elansaidaris​ @donnaintx​ @myinconnelly1​ @squirrelnotsam​ 

*18+ CONTENT. YOUNGER THAN 18 MOVE ALONG

**DO NOT COPY AND PASTE MY WORK ANYWHERE ELSE UNLESS YOU HAVE MY PERMISSION AND IF YOU GIVE CREDIT TO ME. I WORK TOO HARD ON THESE STORIES TO HAVE MY WORK STOLEN

***PLEASE READ WARNINGS AND DISCLAIMERS BEFORE READING.

I sit in the airport thinking and wondering how I am going to make it through the weekend with my parents. My Mom is toxic as hell while my Dad is just now waking up to her toxicity after nearly thirty years of marriage. He has told me many times over this last year that he was considering on leaving her but somehow she always found out and manipulated him to stay. "Maybe I can convince him to come home with me?" I whisper to myself. I have an extra room for him. I rub my face knowing it will be a long shot to get my father out of that house.

When my flight is called for Dallas, I stand up, picking up my bag and making my way to the gate. I hate holidays that require me to come home. Like Thanksgiving and Christmas. I make up excuses for all the other ones just to stay away from home. I was much more happier in Portland. As I arrive at the gate, I pull out my ticket and let the lady scan it. As I walk towards the plane, I think, I still have time to turn around and just say screw it and not get on. It will most certainly make my life so much easier.

I sit in my seat and send a quick text to my Dad letting him know that I was on my way. In return he say's he's excited and that my brother Dylan was coming too. I turn my off and sit back. My brother. The black sheep of the family is finally coming home for a holiday after five years. It'll be nice to hug him again and see how he's been holding up. I smile and close my eyes. This trip is going to be amazing and entertaining.

When my eyes open, I feel the plane preparing to land. I look out the window to my right and see the Dallas airport below. No time to turn back now, I think. Should have high tailed it when I had the chance. When the plane lands I wait until it's time to gather my bag and make my way back to baggage claim. As I do, I pull out my phone and text my Dad to see if he's here. I sooner I get out of this crowed airport, the sooner I can get home and lock myself away until dinner. He texts me back saying he and Mom are circling around and will pick me up when they see me.

"Great," I say stuffing my phone away. "Her highness is here to talk down to me and talk nothing but herself."

"I don't know your situation, but you can tell her highness to go screw herself," A voice next to me says. I turn to see a man about a few years older than me and highly gorgeous pulling up a few bags. He looks oddly familiar.

I laugh. "If only that will work," I see him give a small smile before I walk off.

I walk outside of the terminal waiting to see my Dad's small grey SUV. When I do, I get this sick feeling when I see my Mom. She is the soul reason why I stay away from home and avoid her. She belittles me and makes me feel so small. She judges the way I dress and do my makes. Even thinking about it makes me even more sick.

My Dads SUV pulls up next to me. He smiles at me and I return the smile. "Hey," I say as I buckle up.

"What? No hi for your mom?" My Moms tone said it all. "I see how it is. And is that what you wore on the plane?! That's just horrendous. I would never wear that!" Oh I wish this trip was already over. "At least your brother had the decency to show up in an actual outfit. You look like you're looking for drugs."

I smile sarcastically. "That's exactly what I'm doing Mom," My Dad glares at me from the rearview mirror but, I ignore it. "There's a guy I know off of 4th. He deals the best drugs! He's the whole reason I'm here."

"YN!" Dad says my name firmly and I stop. Guess I took it too far. "How was that flight?" He asks softly.

"I slept the whole time. I'm not big on flying." I say reaching into my bag to pull out the mini bottles I hid. I take one out and shot it back as fast I can before either of my parents see.

The rest of the drive home was in silence. Which, when riding with both my parents, isn't relaxing. When we pull into the driveway of my childhood home, I am out of the car before Dad puts it in park and bolt inside.

"YN," I hear Moms voice call after me. "You're not going to let your father carry your bags in all on his own."

"Marie!" I hear Dad say before I shut the door behind me. Then its all muffled voices.

I run upstairs and into my room. I can hear the music in my brothers room already. He only has music on when he and Mom get into it. That explains why she tagged along for the ride to pick me up. I close the door and drop what bag onto the floor and flop onto the bed. I didn't have time to close my eyes when I heard knocking.

"What?" I groaned. I did not want to get up off my bed.

"We will be having company over in a few hours so makes sure you presentable." Moms voice is overly heard. Dylan's music stops.

"Who?" I hear Dylan ask.

"The Ackles," She says. "They used to watch you guys when you were little. You guys got along with their kids."

"Who?" Dylans door opens but I can't shake that the name Ackles was familiar too. "You talk like we should remember them."

"Why do I even try?" Moms voice is irritated for whatever reason that is known to her. "Just be ready in two hours. Dylan don't wear look too goth. YN, don't wear pajamas. Make it look like you guys actually love your family."

I hear her footsteps retreating when a Dylan cracked the door. "Are you decent?" He asks.

"Yeah," I sit up on my bed and rub my face. I see my older brother walk into the room. He's wearing dark skinny jeans and a black button up shirt. I have no idea why Mom wouldn't think that's not goth like. "I think your outfit looks good." I toss another mini bottle of hard liquor towards him. He, of course, catches it flawlessly.

"Oh thank God," He cracks it open and tosses it back. "I do plan on wearing this and stuff like the whole time I'm here."

"Speaking of you being here," I pull out another mini bottle and toss that one back. Sadly its my last one. "Why are you here? I mean you've seen me a few times these last few years."

"Dad," Dylan says. "He says he's finally telling Mom he's high tailing it out of her life. Has the papers all drawn up and stuff. He wanted to see if he could live with me in Arizona. I automatically said yes because I want to see the look on Moms face when she sees her money source walk out on her."

Now I wish I packed more mini bottles. "Hopefully not in front of our dinner guest," I kind of hope he does secretly.

"No," Dylan stands up. "He won't do that. He will do it after they leave most likely. Now I will let you get ready and make sure you make yourself look like the fucking Queen that you are and slay that shit. Mom hates that."

I laugh. "As long as you do it too. Then we both can slay it together. And yes I will let you use my dark eye shadow palette."

"You're the best sister ever," Dylan walks out of the room. "What would I ever do without you?"

"Crash and burn, sweetheart, crash and burn."

Two hours came and went and both Dylan and I are ready. As we walk downstairs we hear the muffled voices of our parents and our dinner guests. This feels so much like my teenage years, I think to myself as I round the corner to the kitchen and stop dead in my tracks.

There stands the attractive man from the airport. In my kitchen. In my house. He's wearing a red button up shirt with jeans and nice semi-casual shoes. I zero in on his already darkening five o'clock shadow and begin to imagine what it would like in full. He notices me too and give me a smile.

"YN, Dylan," Moms voice sounds. She really never lets Dad talk at all. "I'm sure you remember the Ackles children. Well, they aren't children anymore but, you understand what I mean."

Everyone gives a light chuckle. "I'm afraid I don't remember. I don't remember much of my childhood to be honest." I say giving handshakes to everyone. I notice my brother Dylan hesitate to give the attractive man a handshake. Then I notice his small blush. Damn, I think, it would be my luck to see the same attractive man to learn he could be gay. I guess I'll see when my brother hard core flirts with him during dinner.

"I'm Jensen," he says shaking my hand.

"YN," I say smiling and he smiles back.

I get everyones names and Mom and Dad say dinner will be ready in about an hour or so. In that moment I excuse myself to the back deck to mix myself a drink. Mom glares at me while I walk away. I also notice Dylan trying to flirt with Joshua who was equally as attractive as his brother.

Once on the back deck I take a deep breath and head to Dads bar and start mixing a drink. Then I hear the door open and close. The sound of footsteps tell me its a male.

"So, the whole telling her highness to screw herself didn't happen, I assume," Jensens voice is super smooth.

I look up from my mixing. "If you're meaning my mother, then no it didn't. In fact she accused me of buying drugs."

"Really?!" Jensens voice sounds surpised. "Wow, isn't a plane ride supposed to be comfy?"

I throw my hands up in the air. "That's why I was thinking." I make the mistake of looking as he licks his lips. I turn away quickly and grab the other mixer. "Want a drink? I'm pretty good at mixing."

"Surprise me," Jensen says soft voice as he raises an eye brow and looks me other.

For the next half hour we talk. We talk about random things. We talk about his time on his hit shower Supernatural. A show for some reason I have never seen and now am very interested in. We talk about his life in between shooting his show and being home. I share that I am rarely ever home due to Mom. I don't go into details but I think he get's the gist of it.

"So, I have this huge vinyl collection. Passed down to me from my grandfather before he died." I say mixing another drink. I am slowly starting to feel the effects of this drink. Jensen is still working on his first glass. Such class that is getting horny. "Would you like to see it?"

Jensen smiles and sets his drink down to follow me inside. Dad looks up from listening to Jensen's dad. "What are you two up to?" He asks.

"I'm going to show Jensen grandpas vinyl collection he gave me." We waltz pass them and up the stairs. At the top I loose my balance and fall back into Jensen who grabs me with both his arms.

"One two many drinks?" He asks chucking.

"I promise I can handle my drinking," I begin to walk again. Once in my room I go to my closet and pull out a few boxes and open them. "My Dad was or is still going to be sending these to me but, have a look at them all you want. I don't have them organized."

Jensen looks at the records and with each one he finds that excites him, it excites me in places I never thought to be excited in again. I watch as his smile takes up his whole face and how his eyes crinkle when that happens. I guess I'm staring too long because Jensen looks up a few times with his eyes. I know I should I look away but I honestly can't. This man is just too handsome and sexy to just look away.

Jensen sets down a Sinatra record and comes over to sit next to me on the bed. I am very aware now of how close he is but I still can't stop staring. I rack him over with my eyes and take a deep breath and exhale. I look away and take a huge drink. Nope, no tonight, not in this house, I think to myself. Mom will find out and she will have my ass for having sex yet again in her house. l turn to apologize for staring when I feel his hand on my face pulling it in towards him.

His lips are soft. His lips are eager. His lips move around mine like they were made to be there. I sigh and part my lips and I feel his tongue shot right into my mouth and explore every part it. When he starts to pull back, I nip his bottom lip. Jensen sucks in a deep breath and within seconds he has me straddling his lap. The two of us trying to get our shirts off when my door opens.

"YN, Mom says dinner is,..." Dylan's voice snaps the both of us out of whatever trance we are in. "Well, I see that you skipped right on to dessert. Please continue." I look over to see Dylan checking Jensen out leaning on the door frame licking his lips.

"Don't you know how to knock?" I hiss at him fumbling to fix my shirt.

"Don't you know how to put a sock on the door?" Dylan asks smirking, still checking Jensen out.

Dinner was good. I couldn't keep my eyes from glancing at Jensen as he talked about his show and his co stars. Mom was just over the moon and always ask questions that were like "Oh Jared this" or "Oh Misha that." I will need to look those guys up too.  I could also tell that Jensen was getting uncomfortable. So I brought the attention to myself which of course Mom hated. Her death glare let me know it too. Dinner ended on a high note though.

"Here, put your number in and I'll do the same," Jensen held out his phone. "That way we can talk while I'm shooting." I take his phone and give him mine. We put our numbers in and say goodnight and goodbye. Hopefully, I think, I get to see him again.

The rest of my time home actually went to hell. The next morning we wake up to Mom screaming at Dad. He had given her the papers and told her she either had to sign now or sign in front of lawyers. Mom tries everything in the book but Dad stood his ground. In the end, Mom storms out screaming and calling Dad all sorts of names and saying she has nothing to her name and that he can't just up and leave her. Says that he can't live life without her because he is nothing without her.

After Mom left, I changed my flight to leave before Thanksgiving. I wanted nothing to do with what was going to go down. According Dad, Dylan already has space for him set up in Arizona. I felt better about him having a place. Two days before leaving, I pack up what I else I wanted to take to Portland with me. Everything else would be put into storage for later or donated. Dylan helped me ship them off.

The day before I left, Mom tries to talk to me but I told her she did it to herself all these years. The manipulation. The gas lighting. The mental abuse. The emotional abuse. The whole deal. It was all her that lead to this. She huffed and called me a bitch and that I am no better than Dad. So by the time I make it home, I am a wreck.

Over the next few months, I bury myself in my work and ignoring Mom. Dad on the other hand was doing much better. Already got a job out in Arizona and is saving up to get a small apartment. Dylan tells me he's the happiest and most easy going person without Mom. Mom on the other hand still refuses to sign the papers and has gotten cocky lawyers involved. She wants him to alimony and when he dies she wants me to continue to pay it. I said hell no. Dad stood his ground until the very bitter end.

While that was all going on and when it was finally over, I spoke non stop to Jensen. I even caught up to the current season of his show and tell him what I think of it all. We talk about anything that will keep us texting or talking all into the hours of the night. Neither of us mention that night in my room. Dylan thinks I'm falling for him with how much I talk about him. I doubt it but then again I might be.

Jensen, has been the only person to make me feel like I am not crazy. He has called me or facetimed me to help me through the rough days or the out the blue panic attacks. His entire existence keeps me from doing anything stupid. So, yeah, you can say that I'm falling head over heels hard for him.

By the time summer started to come around I am sitting in my apartment trying to get my AC to work when my phone rings. I answer without looking at the caller ID.

"Whats up?" I even hear the irritation in my voice.

"Hey," Jensens voice instantly calms me. "Everything okay?"

"No," I groan and flop onto the cold tile in my small kitchen. "My AC broke and the landlord won't have anyone out until next week. I told him he won't see rent until it's fixed. Now he's threatening to evict me if I don't pay. But it's so damn hot that I'm practically naked right now."

"I'd love to see that," Jensen teases, making me laugh. "I'm sorry your AC is jacked up. Do you have plans on visiting Dallas?"

I sit up on my elbow. "Should I?"

Four days later Jensen is picking me up from the airport in a rental car. He paid for my entire flight and AirBnB taken care of. "I thought you would like to have control of what your AC temperature should be. Hotels normally run super cold to the point that Misha has tried spooning with me." I laugh. "I do hope it isn't weird that I am also staying that AirBnB."

"None at all," I say feeling my face warm up a bit. It didn't take Jensen long to convince me to come. I really wanted to see him and I really wanted AC.

When we get to the AirBnB, I can't help stare at it in awe. It's almost like a mansion. Then the garage door opens and there sits a motorcycle. I am much more interested in this Jensen guy. I get out to grab my things but Jensen shoos me aside saying he's got it all. I then walk on over to the motorcycle and trail my hand on it.

"Isn't she a beauty?" Jensen asks. I look and he's staring at me, well, more like slowly running his eyes over my body.

"Yeah," I answer looking back at the motorcycle. "My Dad used to have one when we were little. My Mom forced him sell it for whatever reason."

Jensen takes in a deep breath and walks by me. "I can take you around the block if you want." I am suddenly aware of his closeness. I feel my face burn hotter and I get all tingly down south. I look at Jensen and he's already holding two helmets. I smile and take a helmet and strap it on.

In minutes, I am sitting with my arms wrapped around Jensen. He's backing out of the garage and with a small rev of the motorcycle, we took off. It isn't too fast or too slow. But I still tightened my arms around him and closed my eyes. I have been on a motorcycle a few times but, I still get a knot in my stomach.

When we get back, I take my helmet off and take a deep breath. "That was fun," I say as Jensen manages to slide of the motorcycle. He takes his helmet off as well and I can't help but stare at his sweaty hair. That's when I notice he's been growing out his beard. I can't imagine what it would feel like on my skin. Again, I must be staring to hard or to long because Jensen smiles like he knows what I am thinking.

I swing my legs to the side as he walks towards me. As he reaches for my face I drop the helmet and grab hold of his shirt and pull him closer to me. The moment our lips met, my brain starts to set off firecrackers. It felt like a freaking life time since the last time we kissed.

Jensens hands run down my front to the hem of my shirt. I raise my arms up and he slowly slides off. I do the same to him. I've seen him shirtless a few times on his show and internet pictures but seeing it all in real life, damn! I bite my lips and Jensen licks his lips. I slide off the motorcycle and shimmy out of my shorts and underwear. Jensen watches with lust in his eyes and does the same thing. Jensen grabs my hips and sits me back on the motorcycle as he kisses me deeply. The longer he isn't inside me, I more wet and tingly I become.

As if reading my mind, and without breaking his lips off mine, I feel Jensens fingers slide between my folds and begins to rub it before slipping  two fingers inside. I suck in a deep, sharp breath and let out a soft moan. He starts to pull in and out and twist his finger around softly but firmly. In seconds, I am starting to tighten up around his fingers when he pulls them out. I whimper at the lose of contact.

"Not yet," he says against my lips.

Jensen grabs my hips and picks me up. I wrap my legs around him as he slides himself onto the motorcycle. This is going to be interesting and fun. Jensen adjusts us so that we both were somewhat comfortable before lifting me up and positioning me just above his length. I place my hands on his shoulders as he lowers me on him. I close my eyes and drop my head. I hear a low groan come from him as he's fully inside of me. I look up and see him staring right at me.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he says and I smile. His hands grip tight on my hips. They will most likely leave a mark and I am fine with that. He lifts me up and slams me back down. A yelp escaping my mouth.

We repeat that for what I think is nearly a half hour. I am a whimpering mess and trying to hold back my louder moans. Jensen is grunting and the lifting up and down thing, well, thats starting to get irregular and sloppy. Our breathing is getting ragged and the the leather from the seat is start to rub on both our skins. One slam. Two slams. Three slams. I feel myself tighten harder around Jensen. My fingers dig into his shoulders, also going to leave marks. After one more slam into his lap, we both come undone. His arms wrap around me and I drag my nails down his back.

Once our orgasm fade away, I push back and look Jensen in the eyes. "That has got to be the best sex I have ever had," I plant a small and gentle kiss on his lips.

"Good," Jensen smirks. "I got some more ideas for the bedroom later." He must of seen the look on my face, because I am seriously intrigued now. "But first," He slides both of us off the motorcycle. "We should clean up. We have dinner with Jared and his wife."

[writingfortoomanyfandoms]

Okay so I loved the proposal spin-off so much but would you maybe be able to do one following that about like telling the parents and all???

Okay okay so I probably got a little carried away with this but there are three parts, so I hope you enjoy!

I Need You

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

“Is everything alright, honey?” Y/N’s mothers voice was tired when she picked up and Y/N winced.

“Sorry, did I wake you up?” She asked regretfully.

“Yes but it’s okay I need to be up in a little bit anyway, besides if you didn’t wake me up, Alan probably would have,” Y/N laughed at her mothers words.

“How is Alan?” Calum shouted from where he was making the two of them tea. It had started to rain on their walk home from the park though neither of them minded much that by the time they got home they were soaked through.

Neither of them could wait to tell their parents that they were officially engaged and the moment they had towelled themselves dry, Y/N had gotten out her phone while Calum made them both some tea, Duke settling himself contentedly by Y/N’s lap.

“He’s good,” Y/N’s mothered laughed. “Now what’s going on?” She sat up in her bed slightly, her mouth turned up in a wide smile.

“Wake dad up - we’re just waiting for Cal’s parents to pick up as well,” Y/N explained.

Joy and David soon joined the call and Y/N looked up at Calum.

“Should we try and get Mali on as well?” She asked and Calum frowned, checking his watch.

“It’ll be too late in London,” he murmured in response, pressing a kiss to the back of her head as their parents chatted together on the phone. “We actually have something to tell you guys,” Calum spoke up, getting the attention of the four adults.

“What’s going on?” Joy asked. Y/N looked over at Calum who shrugged, though a wide grin grew on his face.

“Calum asked me something today...” Y/N trailed off and watched their parents eyes widen, clearly already having cottoned onto their news.

“Oh my-”

Y/N held up her hand, engagement ring on display, leaning into Calum as she joined in with the laughter of their families. Calum chuckled into Y/N’s hair, holding her closer to him.

///

“Holy shit!” Sierra reached over and grabbed Y/N’s left hand, her eyes wide as she brought it up to eye level.

“When did that happen?” Crystal shrieked, rushing over to stand next to Sierra and get a closer look at the ring that Sierra had only just noticed.

The guys paused, turning around out of their conversations to watch their girlfriends in amusement, wanting to know what had happened to get them suddenly so excited.

“Wait - the fuck?” Michael asked, noticing the ring.

“You didn’t fucking tell us!” Ashton shoved Calum’s shoulder, though he was smiling so the couple knew that he wasn’t seriously upset that they hadn’t been informed.

“Congratulations!” Was Luke’s excited response, joining his girlfriend to look at Y/N’s ring.

“Did we not tell you?” Calum asked.

“I just assumed Calum told you,” Y/N admitted with a shrug of her shoulders.

“When did you do it?” Crystal asked, looking over at Calum inquisitively.

“The night I said I was going to,” Calum looked at Ashton who was still staring at him incredulously. “Hence why I figured you already knew.”

“That’s so exciting!” 

“I’m your best man, right?” Michael butted in to ask. “I mean I basically got you two together.”

“Yeah but I’d make a much better best man than you,” Ashton scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Hey, Luke,” Y/N called and the singer looked over at her. “Wanna be my maid of honour?” 

///

“Did you put the post out?” 

“What gave it away?” Calum responded, placing his phone down on his chest as he lay on their bed. Y/N made her way over, climbing onto the bed, placing her legs on either side of his body. Calum’s hands rested lightly on her hips, grinning up at her.

“Probably the fact that my phone just crashed because I got too many notifications saying congratulations,” Y/N mused, leaning down to peck his lips. “Can I look at it?” She asked.

“Hm?”

“Can I see the post?”

“Wait - has your phone genuinely crashed?” Calum began to laugh and Y/N nodded, giggles escaping her own lips at the question. She took his phone from where it lay on his chest, using her fingerprint to unlock it.

Calum’s post made Y/N’s smile grow exponentially wide.

A photo of the two of them when they were fourteen was the face of the photo - one from before they got together, Calum dressed in his football kit, mud trekked up his legs but the smile on his face was wide, though barely visible as he had Y/N in his arms, in the process of spinning her around. Y/N knew the day immediately, it was the day that Calum won the football match for their school team, Michael was in the back of the photo, laughing, two seconds after Joy had taken the photo of Y/N and Calum celebrating together, Michael had joined in with the to-be couple’s embrace, all three of them laughing.

The second photo was the two of them the day Calum had gotten the call about going to London to write songs with the guys. It was, again, taken by Joy though in this instance the two of them were aware of the photo being taken, Y/N kissing Calum’s cheek as he held a thumbs up to the camera with a wide smile on his face.

The third was of them after the first 5 Seconds of Summer gig that had been played on the Take Me Home Tour. Y/N had flown out with Calum’s family (along with the families of the other guys) to surprise him and he had spotted her standing side stage while he was playing. The moment they had finished playing and had left the stage, he had thrown Y/N over his shoulder as she laughed. The photo was taken by Ashton with Y/N half over Calum’s shoulder, both of their smiles on display for the camera as they celebrated the first official 5 Seconds of Summer gig. 

The fourth was at the album release party for Sounds Good Feels Good. The two of them were holding glasses of champagne, clinking them in the centre of the photo. Ashton was intentionally photobombing in the back, pulling a face at the camera, and Luke and Michael could also be seen talking to one another at the edge of the scene.

The fifth had been taken at Y/N’s graduation, which Calum hadn’t initially thought he’d be able to make it to but had managed to move some things around and fly out just in time to make it. Y/N was dressed in her graduation gown, her eyes wide and tearful, having just seen that he had been able to make it. One hand covered her mouth, the other reaching for Calum. Moments after the photo had been taken she had almost fallen into his waiting arms, listening to him whisper about how proud he was of her.

The final photo was a selfie. The two of their faces pressed together, their clasped hands in front of them, Y/N’s engagement ring clearly on show for camera. While Calum was looking at the camera, Y/N was looking at him, a soft smile on her face contrasting with the unashamedly wide grin on Calum’s. The photo was the one they had sent to Mali and Y/N’s siblings after having gotten off the phone call with their parents.

‘We’ve had a lot of things to celebrate over the last near ten years but this is by far my favourite’

Spin-Off Blurbs for I Need You

[koskela-knights]

I’m trying to make my own AW2 playlist of chapter ending songs—do you have any recommendations? Feel like we’re similarly obsessed with the spiral…

Thnx for your question! And well yeah I might be a bit obsessed with the spiral/loops and its endless possibilities & scenarios that could've been 👀

Besides the official ending songs the game already provides, there are some other songs that give me general AW/AW2 vibes or specific feels for certain characters! I've been pondering about songs to share for a while, so this is a great opportunity! Thnx again for the ask!

Also feel free to share your own songs in my inbox if you feel like it :D

It's gonna be a long post so buckle up 😅

This is the moment to share my love for Lord Huron, specifically their Strange Trails album but also Vide Noir one.

Strange Trails is, to me, an album about being lost and cursed and it's about love. Honestly, I don't think The Night We Met is a good representative about the entire album.

Meet Me In The Woods

This entire song just screams Alan Wake to me.

I took a little journey to the unknown, And I come back changed. I can feel it in my bones. I fucked with forces that our eyes can't see. Now the darkness got a hold on me.

(...)

How long, baby, have I been away? Oh, it feels like ages though you say it's only days. There ain't language for the things I've seen. And the truth is stranger than my own worst dreams.

(...)

I have seen what the darkness does. Said goodbye to who I was. I ain't never been away so long. Don't look back them days are gone. Follow me into the endless night. I can bring your fears to life. Show me yours and I'll show you mine. Meet me in the woods tonight.

Like, how can you read those lyrics and not think about our boy Alan.

2. Way Out There

Drifting in a land time forgot If you think that I've changed, you know me not I belong bodily to the earth I'm just wearing old bones from those that came first I been unraveling since my birth

Those lyrics and partially the song in general remind me of Alan in the Dark Place trying to escape. How many loops has he been through? (Thus in this context, kind of wearing 'old bones from those who came first, aka older iterations of Alan himself) Also, the theremin they use is so fitting and it's an instrument often used in horror movies so <3

3. Vide Noir (both album itself & song)

Where can you go when it’s all in your head? These are the last words that I ever said Where can you go when it’s all in your head? These are the last words that I ever said

Tbh, this album also gives off major Control vibes with its themes and songs about the Astral plane & the black void. Many other songs on the album talk about the main character getting lost and drifting in-between time/space and living/dying

4. War by Poets of the Fall

You might be familiar with the song already and its music video 👀

I like how all the Poets were involved in the video as Taken (have you seen BTS shots of Olli with a fake beard?!!) Anyways, the song makes me think of how Alan has to remember that there are people out there who want to help him. That there are people out there fighting against the Darkness, even if he is mainly unaware and might even feel he doesn't deserve external help. It also reflects Alice being Alan's bright light in the darkness, and the reason he wants to keep fighting to get back to her.

In a similar vein, Lust For Life (also PoTF haha) this song could also be seen through an Alan/Alice lens, the shared shoebox mechanic and Alice trying to help/guide Alan back to the real world.

What is lost may be found Safe and sound

5. Hello Cabaret by PoTF

Now this song is maybe one of my faves of the Ghostlight album. Relistening to my fave lyrics of the song, it reminds me of the Koskelas and Ilmo specifically.

For when you come calling Dancing on my grave For all my choices made Judging me for how I played The hand you dealt me Stains the blood that flows

(...)

Of all I once did love but lost Nothing comes without a cost The wise fool said that's just the way it goes

(...)

Most will never comprehend Till' they're in the very predicament

To me, Ilmo at the end of the game is heartbroken and dead inside now that his other/better half is gone. The 'you' in question here might as well be the player or Scratch/Alan and he feels judged by the narrative of his previous actions. He's made decisions and sacrifices and used the Cult as a palpable 'villain' for the greater good. Something many probably didn't/wouldn't understand unless they were in his shoes.

6. Chasing Echoes by PoTF

It's a fun coincidence that in AW2 you have literal Echoes to chase huh.

Is this a role or disguise seeking mercy in creation? Just another device or truly a time when we will rise? Oh one and all, to the occasion And bridge the gap to see the other side?

The more on-the-nose/literal meaning aside, I think this song can be read as another one about Alan trying to escape the DP/spiral upwards toward ascension. Again, there's a 'you' in this song that could be interpreted as Alice who is a light inside Alan's darkness.

7. Brother by Lord Huron

How long have I known you, brother? Hundreds of lives, thousands of years How many miles have we wandered Under the sky, chasing our fear? Considering the spiral and the historical background of the Koskelas and their (indirect) ties to the Huotaris, they might as well known each other/been brothers for longer than what we see in-game. Some kind of trouble is coming Don't know when, don't know what I will stand by you, brother 'Til the daylight comes or I'm dead and gone

(...)

I know we can't stop what's coming But I will try, oh how I'll try Will you fight with me, brother One last time, one last fight

We know Ilmo got visited by the Dark Presence and has had nightmares about killing Jaakko. Luckily, he rose above that (as far as we know) but I think the dread and fear of losing Jaakko keeps lingering just underneath the surface. Personally, I enjoy the thought of people sometimes remembering the previous loop/spiral and that those affected/remembering would try anything to keep the loop from repeating.

8. You Belong To Me by Cat Pierce

If you're a fan of Alan/Scratch, this song has that obsessive/possessive vibe to it that seems to be a dialogue/mix between them.

I've heard allegations 'bout your reputation I'll show you my shadows if you show yours Let's get it right dear, give a good fight dear We'll keep it all up behind closed doors

(...)

I must confess to you, I want to possess you Feels like we're dreaming, we're tripping and reeling Just say that you belong to me I could get lost in the feelings we're feeling Just say that you belong to me

[joshslater]

1½

Another quarter, another 250 followers and another 40 stories. I’ve decided I need a backup from tumblr, so with this post I’m launching my Patreon site. I’ve been working on it for a while now, slowly copying over content, fixing typos and badly cropped photos along the way. I still have about 80 posts left to copy, so it is a work in progress, but all the content is already available here. I’m still posting new stories for free here on tumblr, and have no immediate plan to stop doing that. It would be cool if you did drop by and bought me an overpriced coffee or discounted cocktail, but it is totally cool if you don’t. Just to add something bonusy, I’ve added a tier where I post additional thoughts about stories, rejected photos, discarded drafts and abandoned sequels. That’s another reason why the process of copying from tumblr to Patreon is taking its time. I have to dig up old content, going through old chat logs etc. I was also a bit delayed with this announcement, while Patreon community staff and I were figuring out exactly what photos are allowed...

Al Funghi Taking a shortcut more than just dirt got dragged in. #mental #unwilling

Alan fucking Brown Alan Brown is a psychopath part 2.

Bias How does how we look affect how we act? #mental #unwilling

Bloody Marie Not everyone who fools around get a seat on the supreme court. #magic #revenge #unwilling

Boot Sequence Things are getting worse and worse. Perhaps an infection? #mental #scifi #revenge #unwilling

Buddy Light You were supposed to meet your friends, but it looks like these marines scared them away. #body #magic

Chroniwat? Finally got hold of a Chronivac unit. I’ll show you... #body #scifi #muscles #mental #unwilling

Coming of Age Something happened on the beach. #body #muscle #age #magic

Crossdressing Desperately trying to avoid impure thoughts. #bodyswap #magic

Exchange Student Don’t tick off a warlock. #body #age #magic #revenge #unwilling

Final Answer Giving up doesn’t have to be the end. #bodyswap

got skyep? The grass is always greener on the other side. #bodyswap #unwilling

Hiatus Accidentally foiling his room mates plot to.. to do what exactly? #mental #scifi #hypno #unwilling

The Hypnotic Triangle Big change, fast change or lasting change? #mental #hypno #unwitting

Hypothetical #2 We theorize over an alpha flirt on a commuter train.

Hypothetical #3 We theorize over what mysterious work gear could mean.

Hypothetical #4 We theorize over what a sudden house slave means.

Hypothetical #5 We theorize over some jock hijinx.

It’s just temporary You were just helping your friend with his thesis work. #body #jock #muscle #unwilling #mental #scifi

Keeping Up Appearences Peter and Dylan have been bodyswapping to help each other out, but suddenly things are not going according to plan. Perhaps. #bodyswap #muscles #natural

Mystery Malware Shocking new report on a malware that targets user behavior. #hypno #mental #unwitting

A Night Tale A boy finds his dreams do come true, kinda. #body #magic #unwilling

Non-Minkowski Space The problem with time travels is to properly read up on your destination. #body #scifi #unwilling

Off by One Calling the devil can turn out well. #body #muscle #magic

One More Bite You never know what coworkers lace their lunch with. #body #weightgain #magic #unwilling

Paradise, AZ Our honeymoon was cut short when we found ourselves in Paradise. #body #hick #magic #unwilling

The Performance Review Alan Brown is doing whatever it takes to get ahead on the corporate ladder. #body #mental #magic #muscle #unwilling

Prepped Skating into an old lady is the best that ever happened to him, he would say. #mental #body #magic #unwitting

Rehabilitation You can’t do crime if you can’t figure out how. #mental #scifi #body #unwilling

Ronnie the Pool Boy Ron decides breathe new life into his marriage with a body suite. #body #muscle #age 

Sam Matthews Waking up after his prank in One More Rep! #221 Sam explores his new reality. #body #mental #muscle #unwilling

Traces of Troy A near death experience makes some things cross over. #magic #mental #body #muscle #unwitting

Train of Thought An encounter on a commuter train.

Trick and Treat Things to not work out as expected for strictly parented boy sneaking out to Halloween party. #bodyswap #magic

Trust Fall The back crash leaves one privileged student less privileged. #racial #body #scifi

Uber Lift These friends are taken to a new place by their uber ride. #body #muscle #unwilling

Underoos Great thrift shop costume has some lingering side effects. #body #age #magic #unwilling

Uniformed A coworkers active duty service man makes an evening visit. #inanimate #clothes #unwilling #magic #revenge?

Upon Reflection Just some trash along the street. #magic #unwitting

A Week in Indiana Flying out and meeting guys you meet online can be transformative. #mental #hypno #body #natural #unwilling

The Yoker Not everyone appreciates a prank #body #muscle #revenge #unwilling #magic

Android Tattoo session Tattoo session cont. Backseat ride Hat Heirloom Chronivac

[halorocks1214]

the law of relativity

AO3 Link

Word Count: 9963

Summary: The Law of Relativity states that each person will receive a series of problems (‘tests of initiation’) for the purpose of strengthening the ‘light’ within. We must consider each of these tests to be a challenge and remain connected to our hearts when proceeding to solve the problems. This law also teaches us to compare our problems to others’ problems and put everything into its proper perspective. No matter how bad we perceive our situation to be, there is always someone who is in a worse position. It is all relative

Previous Parts (in order): Alan | Virgil | You are here! | Gordon

WHY 👏🏼 CANT 👏🏼 I 👏🏼 WRITE 👏🏼 FICS 👏🏼 IN 👏🏼 MO 👏🏼 DER 👏🏼 RATION 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼 also just bluuuergh. dont ask about this fic. part of it was written in a dark auditorium, another was written in a different state, another was written on a frickin bus, this fic has been places ill tell you what. half the time i think this is hot garbage and the other half i think its actually decent so im posting this while my head is in a good headspace and then promptly yeeting myself off the internet for a few hours to wait and see what happens. this series is becoming less of a canon divergence AU and more of a straight-up AU because of certain details im trying to worm in there buT IM TRYING MY BEST

thanks once more to @gumnut-logic, because of the length, this time i used three prompts, them being "What do you mean?", crease, and dream (and they werent even used that much sksksksk)

Warnings for both graphic and non-graphic depictions of violence, as well as mentions of torture and other PTSD/panic attack related stuff. I went deep with this one fellas

Orphan.

The word tasted dirty in his mouth.

He can still see the footage in the backs of his eyelids from when he watched it exactly one year ago. He was the only other (living) adult at the time in the family outside of Grandma, so he was permitted to see it. He remembered they originally didn’t want to show him, mainly because of his age, but Grandma was fierce, and she put one hell of an argument on the table.

One Scott refused to let fall through the cracks by breaking down. If only Grandma knew how he cried his eyes out and screamed to high heaven that night in the hotel room after essentially watching his father be blown to bloody smithereens then she was a goddamn saint for keeping it a secret. It made sense, she was the mother to his father. She had quite the line up of stories from Jeff’s childhood. Scott sensed the early-greying of his hair came from her, heh.

The rest of his family eventually saw it, of course, they did. Scott couldn’t shield them forever. What he will protect, selfishly he might add, was how angry he was at how much better they took it than he did. They cried, yes they did, but they never fully broke down like Scott did. Later in life, he wondered if it was jealousy: jealousy at not truly being able to let go. Whatever it was, he made sure to swallow it along with whatever alcohol he chose for the weekend.

Just add it to the ever-growing pile of shit he had to deal with. Nothing new.

Suddenly he’s 20 again and seated in a plane to be taken to his first stint in the Air Force. He said his goodbyes to Virgil, Gordon, and Alan back at home while Grandma and John metaphorically held his hand all the way to the airport. John was… quiet, more so than usual, but Grandma was stuck right in the middle between being a sobbing mess and ecstatic at the fine young man he’s become.

You’re just like your father. He would be proud.

Scott was secretly glad she never physically said it. It gave him plausible deniability in thinking that those words weren’t laced behind her big, bright, prideful eyes.

The first time went well, maybe even great. He stayed for a couple of months, did some flight tests, and while the training was brutal, boy did he learn a lot. When he came back home it was to a family slowly stitching itself back together. Grandma was a full-time house member, Virgil had taken up painting, Gordon talked about potentially going back to his swim meets, and while Alan was still as silent as ever, he was perkier than when Scott last saw him.

It would be on and off for the next few years: a couple of months at home, slowly and painfully taking over the role their father had (he can’t remember when he essentially received joint custody of his younger siblings with Grandma, but hey, he’s not complaining), then a couple of months out at the Air Force base where he slowly climbed up the ranking platform. He became skillful, perhaps too skillful. When he got his rank of Captain he felt it was less of an honor and more of something they owed him.

He was getting cocky. Never enough to be a danger to his fellow men, but enough to be somewhat of an occasional annoyance. Charles smacked him upside the head more than once. It felt like the world was right-side-up for once. Scott made many-a-calls to John and Virgil, the former enjoying his first few rotations up in space and the latter squarely in the middle of college. Gordon was being offered sponsorships to hell and back, and Alan was quietly getting along with the other kids at his school. Grandma was on welcoming duty for Kayo, who was taking her slot in the Tracy family with grace, though, a warning that their family would take custody of her if something were to happen to her parents would have been nice, Dad.

Of course, nothing ever goes right for their family for too long.

Orphan.

Age 24, it was supposed to be a simple retrieval mission of civilians. Scott was put in charge of his squad and then some. At night, they rolled-- well, flew out to get the job done. Scott can’t even remember the country anymore when minding his own business. Australia? Finland? Perhaps Bangladesh? There was a place John was insistent Scott never do rescues in, Virgil tended to agree, and the eldest unhealthily let them banish him from ever stepping foot there without argument. He could never remember the name off the top of his head until John’s familiar International Rescue, we have a situation rung out in the living room followed by the name of the country.

He would immediately forget it later, trauma too strong, too volatile, but the way his heart stopped and his head shattered and the way he felt ice water rush down his back was a good enough reason to quietly leave the room and let John delegate the job to one of his brothers. Sometimes John found him retching in the toilet halfway through the mission. He made sure to always mute Scott’s wrist communicator, even if it was never turned on in the first place.

The plane touched down. Orders sent the ground team out. But then the ground team took longer than estimated. Scott tensely waited where he was told to. It wasn’t the first mission that took a little longer than predicted and knowing humans, it surely wouldn’t be the last. Then, words mixed with heavy static came over the radio. H--p. Co-- ---7--. --nd ba---p --me--at--y.

Scott sat tensely in his seat, remembering his orders and suddenly hating them. Radio back to home if the mission goes south. Well, it didn’t look like they had the radio anymore. Still didn’t hurt to try at least. Scott spoke the familiar protocol that was ingrained into him when trying to call base. Dammit. Nothing. Probably some kind of blocker of sorts. Sitting up straight as a board, Scott looked through his options.

… He was in charge here. If something happened to his team the fault would lie squarely on his shoulders. Going against everything but his gut, he went out to help his squad. He can’t really remember what he exactly did anymore, but he does remember that it made a noise. Like a Looney Tunes scene: he flinched, froze, waited to see if anything or one heard, breathed a sigh of relief, and continued.

He eventually stumbled across one of his closest comrades, Arnold Brigeets. Yes, the name was ironic and half the reason he joined the force in the first place. The guy was one of the people that actually trained Scott and also seemed to be one of the few that was genuinely proud when Scott became a higher rank. It’s why Scott was more appreciative of Arnold than others, that, and well… Scott thought his fatherly abilities were good. The guy did have three kids back home.

Orphan.

Ducking down behind the cover his older friend was semi-situated behind, Scott watched as Arnold jumped at the intrusion before sighing. Scott had run into some enemies that he swiftly took down-- nothing too serious, he didn’t have the time or weapons for such an act, but they definitely would be out of it for a while-- so Arnold must have too on his way to find cover as well, hence why he was so on edge.

“Thank God,” Arnold wiped his forehead, “Glad to see you join us, kid.”

Scott was breathing heavily, but the grin he attempted was still there, “Y-Yeah, so what happened? More threats than we thought?”

Arnold shook his head, “Yes and no. There were a lot more baddies than we thought, but that’s because the civilians weren’t civilians. It’s a tr--”

Boom. The familiar sound of a gunshot.

Arnold fell over. Never got back up. Dropped like a rock in a lake, never to come up to the surface again.

Scott was so caught off guard he couldn’t react to the gun that swiftly beat him over the head, knocking him out cold. The only thing on his mind was oh fuck oh fuck I messed up I shouldn’t have come I wouldn’t have made any noise that way why did I--

They had him for roughly two weeks. Scott always thought the plotline in movies where the villain vehemently denied knowing any important information was dumb as hell. We’re not stupid. We wouldn’t go after someone if they didn’t know something.

The things they did hurt and no amount of I don’t fucking know anything! would help. Those two weeks were lost to Scott in a sea of pain and torment. The only thing he remembered was being captured, then waking up in a hospital drugged up to his gills with his superiors staring at him like he cured cancer.

“You saved the rest of your squad from sharing the same fate as the first half.”

“I-I did?”

“You betcha, son. I only wish I was there to see it! People be saying you were like an animal in how you took ‘em all down.”

Scott’s never remembered, and he wanted to keep it that way.

He was given the highest honors, even the chance to skip a couple of ranks to be at the same level as the big boys, but the night they were going to share the news to the golden boy himself, they found him in one of the bathrooms with a bloody hand and a mirror shattered with no hope of fixing it.

He was honorably discharged to a family that was so thankful he was home. Words like missing in action and POA never stopped haunting their nightmares. Scott was too, God, of course, he was, but sitting around and doing nothing was the last thing his traumatized mind wanted or maybe even needed. After doing what he considered to be the biggest fuck-up of his life, he needed to feel important.

This isn’t the first time he’ll say this and it surely won’t be the last: thank Christ for Grandma.

“You want me to take over?...”

“Yep, it’s about time Tracy Industries received a new pair of eyes. The Board certainly thinks so.”

“But… they’d rather have a crazy, PTSD-infected veteran over you?”

A rough pinch to his ear, “Hey now, don’t call yourself that,” the gentle motherly tone was back as soon as it left, “Besides, that crazy might exactly be what they want. Half of their argument is that I “don’t take enough risks.” They’re getting tired of listening to an old fart like me.”

A moment of contemplation, followed by the cheeky raise of an eyebrow, “So you’re saying you want me to take so many risks they have no choice but to take you back?”

A bark of laughter, “Damn straight.”

He learned the ropes faster than normal (healthy, is probably the correct term), and he immediately won the hearts of both young and old in the company. Instead of flying planes every few months, he worked on business reports and vetoed new ideas every couple of weeks. It felt satisfying for the most part, and his family was just happy he was still alive to enjoy it.

However, there was a slight roadblock on his way to becoming a somewhat stable person.

He became prone to violent blackouts. It had to have started when he blacked out and saved himself from those two weeks of hell, which made the most sense. Something was always destroyed when he came back to life. John was the best at calming him down due to his own experience with panic attacks, however, John couldn’t always be there, and the next rotation for NASA was coming swiftly. Scott swore up and down he would be fine, he could figure something out. John went back into space with an eyebrow permanently raised.

It was just him and Virgil home (Grandma had taken Alan and Kayo to watch Gordon swim) when he, unfortunately, proved John right. Scott wasn’t sure what triggered it, but he vividly remembered coming back in Virgil’s extremely tight hold. The first thing Scott thought to say was damn, beanstalk, when did you get so strong? but then he laid his eyes upon the forming bruise on his younger bro’s face and hasn’t recovered since.

Virgil swore he never held it against Scott. Scott definitely thought he should have.

That night brought sudden clarity to Scott that he was doing this horribly wrong. He was a ticking time bomb, and it wouldn’t be long before something was damaged in a way that couldn’t be fixed. Scott needed an anchor. Something to ground him before he took it too far. John wasn’t going to be earthside forever, Grandma was busy with Kayo, Alan was just a kid, and Gordon was living the dream. None of them were viable.

Then, as he was thinking, he was suddenly aware of how calming Virgil’s arms were around him, how they were preventing the growing panic attack in his chest from getting even bigger.

It was easy.

For once in Scott’s life, his eyes were big and young as he asked Virgil, “Help me, please.”

After a few brief seconds, Virgil gulped, “Okay.”

From then on, Virgil was Stone Number One. Scott’s admiration for Virgil outweighed the guilt of putting the black-haired man in that position in the first place. Virgil was glad to follow his older brother’s leadership, but just as qualified to bring him the hell back when he went too far. From getting too sacrificial to preventing a good punching-out some of the idiots they dealt with, Virgil made sure Scott knocked that shit off.

Time went on, Scott was a top-notch CEO at Tracy Industries, John was having one hell of a time up in space, Virgil was graduated and had so many life opportunities to pick from, Alan was thriving at being a (mostly) stable kid, Kayo was 100% acclimated to the family, and Gordon--

Scott found himself gripping the wooden desk very abruptly. He was shocked he didn’t snap a chunk off in the process. Why was he thinking about this right after a giant business conference? Who knows at this point. If this giant origin story seemed jagged and jumpy, maybe even somewhat vague, good, that’s how it fucking felt.

Back to said story.

Scott always thought he and Gordon would have the least amount in common.

They do, but out of all the things they could have picked to be similar, why did it have to be the PTSD caused by military-related jobs? Scott was 24 when he got his, Gordon was just under 20. It may have been a few years since their respective accidents, but they’re never going to go another day without it feeling like it was just yesterday.

At this point, Gordon was up and walking again, mainly thanks to John and Alan while Virgil and Scott helped in their own ways. Grandma’s cooking was what probably motivated him the most though, ha, the need to get away from it… Scott smiled. Grandma was always a constant. Honestly, if it weren’t for her, the family might have fallen apart. Literally.

What has he been saying throughout this whole shindig? Thank Christ for Grandma.

One day out of the blue, Grandma reserved the entire family (yes, even Kayo and Alan) private plane tickets so they could spend some time on the mainland for a few days. Honestly, even if the island wasn’t getting major renovations, you hooligans need to get out more. Have some fun. Try not to kill anything, especially each other, she all told them while creepily grinning. John and Virgil smacked Gordon more than once on the plane for insisting that she finally snapped, dudes, she’s gonna kill us.

Most of the time during their little vacation, Scott heavily focused on his breathing. He was pretty sure he knew what she was doing. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous, but the same went for his excitement.

Dad showed him these plans the day after his 18th birthday. You’re a man now, Scotty, I need your help making this big boy decision with me.

As soon as they reset foot down on the island, Scott took a deep breath and felt relaxed at the salty taste in the air. It was weird, nothing on the outside was changed, and yet… it still felt different.

“Guys!” Virgil yelled out, “Stop playing in the water! We just got back, aren’t you two tired?!”

Blinking back to reality, Scott looked over to see his two youngest brothers doing exactly what Virgil was yelling at them for. Poor Johnny was a little damp too, which is what probably caused Virgil to shout at them in the first place. The blondes didn’t care. They continued to prance around in the shallow waves with their pants legs rolled up, acting as if they didn’t hear anything outside of their laughter. Gordon shoved his hands down into the liquid and threw some directly at Alan, nailing him right in the face.

Scott exhaled slowly. He couldn’t imagine them doing this 8 years ago.

Regardless, the artist was right, and they couldn’t waste too much time. Kayo was swift in grabbing both gentlemen by the ears and dragging them onto dry land. They all painstakingly trekked their way up to the-- what would you call Tracy Island? Mansion? Over-blown cabin? Well, whatever it was, Scott would always be willing to call it home.

Stepping inside, each brother took in the view, which was underwhelmingly not that much different, except for one tiny thing. John suddenly noticed a figure already standing in the living room and blinked, “No way… it’s--”

Gordon jumped in, both with his body and his words, “Brains?! Dude, how’s it hanging?!”

The scientist in question jumped at the voices before clearing his throat and readjusting his glasses, “O-Oh, hello again, T-Tracys. It’s good to see you all once more.”

Virgil slung an arm around his shoulder, ignoring the blatant squawk, “Man, how long has it been?! What made you finally decide to crawl out of your hole?”

Snickers came from all corners of the house. Brains stood up straighter, “W-Well, I was contacted b-by Mrs. Tracy over here with an offer I c-couldn’t turn down.”

Eyebrows tilted in all shapes and sizes. Someone cleared their throat. Everyone turned to look at Grandma once again, “I think if you all follow me, you’ll swiftly understand what I’m talking about.”

I already do, Scott thought matter-of-factly. John seemed to be understanding it now, Virgil was on the cusp of remembering what his father was hinting at for him, and Gordon was just as lost as Alan. It made sense, Jeff talked to all of them about it, but the oldest had seniority. The two youngest not remembering just by words was expected, especially since that was going to be rectified very quickly.

The hangar under the island was beautiful. Point blank. It smelt of iron and steel and grease and engine and that was the first time since Scott had been in the Air Force that he didn’t gag or flinch at the thought of flying something again. Scott had seen the plans his father drew. He assumed Jeff finished building it, but he never got to physically see it since…

In some ways, he was glad he didn’t. Now he got to experience it with (most of) his family, and that made it ten times better.

After letting them absorb the scenery, Grandma slowly turned around to look at them all, “You remember that dream your father had?”

The four oldest blinked, Kayo simply raised her eyebrows, meanwhile, Alan, being the teenager he was, didn’t read the emotion in the room, “Oh, yeah! Aunt Casey always talked about how he was going to “change the world” and stuff. What did he call it again?”

Scott felt way more confident than he had in a while, “International Rescue.”

Grandma nodded, gleeful at the happy look on her oldest and youngest grandsons’ faces, “Well, I’ve been thinking about some things. I know we don’t exactly worry about money, but after everything your father put into these girls… I’d hate for them to go to waste.”

The Tracy family jumped at that. John’s mouth was wide open in shock, yes, shock, “That station is still up there?”

Grandma sighed, “You mean ‘Five? Not for long. Not if we don’t send someone up there within the next few days.”

John blushed at the grin Grandma gave him. Clearing his throat, his big brain came to a startling conclusion, “Wait… you brought Alan along?”

The other big brothers in the room jumped at that. Kayo was the only one with enough balls to say the truth out loud, “Mrs. Tracy, I mean no offense, but he’s--”

“Just a kid?” Grandma smirked, “A kid that’s topped the VR charts for Intergalactic Fury for weeks straight while simultaneously getting nothing but A’s in his classes?”

Scott nodded slowly in comprehension. He remembered Alan talking about that game for a while. It was some kind of online racing simulator of sorts. Scott caught the prettiest string of words from Alan when going to bed one night. Nearly made him shit his pants. He made the kid promise to keep it PG-13 if he wanted to keep playing.

Still, the elders in the family slowly turned to look at the freckled boy with both shock and pride. Alan blinked with wide-eyed innocence, “But my English class is only at a B--”

“Shh, kiddo, I’m making a point,” Grandma rolled her eyes. The other brothers snickered. Yep, still Alan. Grandma sighed, “Now before you point out that video games are different, I know, but the difference between them and this is that video games don’t have some of the most talented older brothers in the world to guide him.”

Said older brothers jumped at the idea. Before any objection could be made, Grandma continued, “Besides, the GDF seemed to be okay with it. The Colonel was willing to oversee some of his training too.”

John flinched at that, “But IR is supposed to be independent!”

Grandma slightly frowned. She didn’t exactly like it either, “It still is, but in the world of business, compromises have to be made.”

Virgil huffed and crossed his arms, “Well, that’s… rough. Here I thought only Scott would have to deal with the bullshit of business.”

Grandma chuckled at the somewhat un-Virgil-like behavior, “It really is, Virgil. But about that Scott part,” she slowly turned to look at him and him only, “I hate to give you more work to do, but if you want to work within their restrictions?”

Suddenly every pair of eyes in the room was on the head of the family. Gulping, Scott looked down at his feet to think. It was a tense few moments, nobody sure what he was going to decide, least of all him, before the brunette cleared his throat and brought his face back up with a grin.

“Well then,” Scott turned to look at the bright tip of ‘One, chest fluttering with a feeling that became unfamiliar to him over the past few years, “I guess now it’s time to state the obvious.”

From then on, every time he loaded into that cockpit of his girl, he felt lighter than air.

“Thunderbirds are GO!”

Everything was okay again.

Mostly.

Orphan.

Scott took another sip of his whiskey and refocused on his reports.

---

Scott was in some kind of dissociative state the whole way home.

Alan doesn’t deserve this. He’s still a kid, barely an adult, and he’s going to go through utter hell because you screwed up. You were 24, Gordon was just under 20, Alan was barely 18. Alan’s going to get fucked up like you and it’s all your fault.

His movements were robotic and rigid. Anyone with a working eye could tell he was deep in shock and running on autopilot. Mostly Jeff. Especially Jeff. The rest of the brothers all noticed too, but they were also running on their own empty fuel tanks, so the only thing they could do was guilty send their older brother the occasional glance of pity and concern.

Jeff was going to need to talk to them about that. Somehow. Maybe he shouldn’t be the one to point it out since he feels just as bad. His sons were too much like him, sometimes, and that made his guilt burn all the same. He should’ve been there to warn his sons about the dangers of unnecessary guilt. Having that kind of guilt was a parent’s job, dammit, and maybe grandparents only occasionally.

But then he remembered where he’s been for the past 8 years and… who really was Alan’s parents anymore? His gut was screaming it sure as hell isn’t you, but he knew his sons would want him to step back into the role as soon as he was physically fit to do so, not just for Alan, but for themselves as well. They would deny it, but they probably just wanted to be kids again too, even if it was only brief, fleeting moments.

Who was to tell the protective, fatherly side of Jeff no to that? No better time to fix things like the present after all.

He saw Scott go up the stairs when they first stepped into the living room, so that’s where Jeff was going to go too. Footsteps light, Jeff retraced his eldest’s pathway to his bedroom. Only, he stopped before said bedroom. Unfavorable noises were coming from the closed bathroom door, and Jeff could only swallow whatever emotion it made him feel. Taking a deep breath, he slowly opened the (unlocked) door to the bathroom and laid his eyes upon the incriminating scene.

Jeff was met with the sight of Scott retching his entire stomach into the toilet, hands aggressively grabbing his sticky, hair-gelled hair and trying to make himself bald from the strain.

Jeff’s reaction was always based on autopilot, and it will never stop being so.

Ignoring his protesting body, Jeff kneeled and placed a hand on his son’s back, only to abruptly pull back like he touched a hot stove when Scott only got more hysterical at the contact. The brunette clenched his eyes shut even more (and they were already shut as much as possible) while his head became a special kind of crease. Like he was in pain, “God, I wanna go home. Why won’t they listen I swear I’m telling the truth! Please, I just want Dad--”

Jeff was frozen on the spot, heart stopping in the process. His brain shut down while he watched his son continue to mindlessly ramble and panic. His freaked-out mind barely registered footsteps from behind in the hallway, followed by a voice going what’s going-- holy--

Something thundered past him. Blinking once, Jeff guiltily watched as Virgil kneeled behind the eldest and wrapped his arms around the thin man’s shoulders while taking Scott’s hands in his in a protective blanket, “Scott! Jesus-- we’re at home, you’re safe and it’s June 14th, 2--”

Scott only struggled more, panicking at the fact he could no longer yank his hair out. Dammit, it was the only way he could feel in control, don’t take that away too! “No! I swear I’ve said everything! Please--”

Virgil immediately knew that this was one of those attacks that Scott wasn’t coming back down from with pure human intervention. Add-on the sight of his father’s big eyes signifying the man was at a loss at what to do, Virgil had no choice. He snapped loudly, remembering the comms were still on and only feeling slightly bad at the way Scott flinched in his arms, “Shit-- John! It’s Scott! Get the stuff! We’re in the upstairs bathroom!”

Muffled footsteps through a few walls in the house could be heard. Jeff’s mind was only starting to catch up when the brother Virgil called for came rushing into the bathroom (Jeff never remembered it being big enough to hold four of them) and ignoring Jeff (practically shoving him out of the way too, man, this was bad) on his way to the main problem at hand. Landing on his knees in a way that made Jeff wince, John gently grabbed one of Scott’s arms from Virgil’s hold and subsequently pulled a needle from nowhere and injected something into Scott.

The response was instantaneous.

Scott’s breathing, while still labored, got slower. He stopped struggling as well, and the way he sagged reminded Jeff of ice melting into a puddle. The two other brothers’ shoulders also sagged, relieved at the crisis averted. John stood up, knees cracking as he rubbed the back of his neck. Then, he froze at the sight of something in the doorway, “G-Gordon…”

Virgil snapped his head up from where he was looking at Scott. Jeff did something similar. Yup, in the doorway was the strawberry blonde, eyes wide, making him younger by about 10 years. The ex-Olympian in question inhaled, closed his eyes, and soon speed-walked his way out of the entrance to the bathroom. Dammit, neither Gordon or Alan have seen something like that and it probably spooked him more than anything. He’d understand with his own PTSD-related issues, but still, seeing the “never weak” big brother freak out in such a scary way...

John combed a hand through his hair, shaking his head. As he started walking out of the room, he whispered to himself, probably hoping no one heard him, “Dammit, this is all so fucked…”

Unfortunately, Jeff did hear, and the dirty language made the father flinch. John was always the best about making sure Grandma didn’t wash his mouth out with soap, and the fact that he so willingly didn’t care meant that everyone was at the end of their rope. Still reeling at the sight, Jeff couldn’t react to the gentle arms that picked him up off the floor and slowly led him out of the suddenly stuffy room.

With the click of the door shutting, Jeff realized what Virgil did, “W-Wait, Scott--”

“Will be okay for a few seconds,” Virgil finished for his dad, “I know it’s nearly been a decade, but the one part of you I definitely know hasn’t changed is the need to comfort us, just like we hoped.” The small grin that fell over the middle child’s face put Jeff a little bit at ease, but Virgil wasn’t completely done, “So, I’m going to let you take care of this, but I just want to make sure you’ll handle it with grace. Take this slowly, okay? Scott might be doped up, but he’s still… volatile, in a sense.”

Jeff cleared his throat, suddenly choking on the unneeded tension, “Okay, Virgil, I promise, just… what happened? That was… bad, and really bad at that too. I know Scott would never let something that severe willingly come out in front of his family.”

Virgil rubbed the back of his neck, clearly not ready for this conversation, “Listen, Dad,” he inhaled sharply, cutting himself off before sighing in a way that said fuck it, might as well get this over with, “As much as it felt like it did, the world didn’t stop spinning because you… well, we had lives we somehow wanted to continue living. We all have lives and stories now, and this is Scott’s story to tell.���

Jeff was getting misty-eyed again. Back when he was just a kid, Virgil couldn’t keep a secret to save his life, mainly in part due to his insomnia-related issues (Jeff has to wonder if he still has them, more problems for the future) and general lack of filter because of sleep-deprivation. Now Jeff knew there was a starch difference between a kid who couldn’t keep his mouth shut and a man who genuinely knew how to respect another man’s privacy, but…

It just hammers home how much he’s missed with his boys. Gulping, Jeff made a mental note to talk with his mom about certain things he’s missed. She’ll know a lot more than he would, “Okay, Virge. Thank you, for stepping up there.”

Virgil’s shoulders relaxed at Jeff’s words, as well as his father’s hand patting him on the shoulder, “Thanks, Dad. Just… go easy on him. I know it’s a little late for this but none of us ever properly talked about things. It was very unhealthy, deep down we all knew that, but…”

“You just couldn’t get the proper emotions out?” Jeff finished for his son. At Virgil’s soft nod, Jeff exhaled, “I’m not going to say that it was a smart decision, but we’re all here now. We can move forward with this.” Jeff squeezed where his hand laid.

Virgil blinked before curtly going, “Yeah. Goodnight, Dad. Take care of Scott.”

Virgil stepped around his father and walked to where his bedroom most definitely was not, but Jeff could deal with that in a little bit. He had another son who he was pretty sure just had a violent PTSD attack of some kind, plus, Virgil seemed to sour at something Jeff said. The ex-astronaut wasn’t sure what it was, so he didn’t chase after him out of worry that--

Wait.

We’re all here now.

Dammit, Jeff. Out of all the sentences you could’ve picked...

Alrighty, just add that to the ever-growing pile of things that need to be talked about later. No biggie. Jeff found himself sighing and rubbing the back of his neck much like Virgil did a few minutes ago. Turning around, he was met with the bathroom door once more. Shaking his head, Jeff slowly crept into the room and saw that not much was different, especially with Scott.

His heart softly cracked, but, again, he can deal with it later.

Sitting down on the ground and grimacing at the way his body ached (was gravity always this rough?), Jeff leaned against the floor cabinets about 2-3 feet away from Scott, who made himself into a nice comfortable ball in the corner next to the toilet, his palm smushed against his forehead. Jeff waited a few seconds. Then minutes. Then he realized he would have to be the one to initiate the conversation. He probably should’ve realized that right when he came back in. He opened his mouth, but his wasn’t the one that words came out of.

“It was… Zambia.”

Jeff’s heart stopped and his mouth snapped shut. He couldn’t stop the way his eyes clearly showed his panic, but hopefully, he guiltily thought, Scott was a little too doped up to not realize it, “Scotty, what do you mean?”

Scott shrugged in a way that spoke he thought what he was admitting wasn’t a big deal. Yep, clearly not with it, “Mission went bad… caught for a couple of weeks.”

Jeff was hoping his first fuck back on Earth, spoken to himself like right now or otherwise, would have been a comedic thing, but the way nausea rose in his throat said this was anything but funny.

Scott wanted to be in the Air Force. Badly. Who was a father to deny his son’s want to be part of such a noble cause? He gave him tips, took him to meet friends in high places, sometimes even sparred with him when he turned 18, but then Jeff was suddenly thousands of miles away with no hope of ever having the chance of sparring with his eldest again. Despite it, Jeff hoped Scott went on to become the best pilot the world has ever seen.

Part of this looks like he did, but at what cost?

As much as it felt like it did, the world didn’t stop spinning because you… well, we had lives we somehow wanted to continue living.

Aw hell, “Jesus, Scott…” Jeff couldn’t tell if it was the brashness or the lack of a nickname that made Scott flinch and he hated it. He immediately softened his tone and brought his 27-year-old child into his arms, “Shh, shh, we’ll be okay. We’ll figure this out.”

Like father like son, old habits die hard, and as easy as it was to still be able to comfort his children, Scott seemed to just as easily take it as he used to 8 years ago, “Alan doesn’t deserve this kind of hell, God, he’s barely not a kid anymore! Why--”

Jeff tightened his hold to keep his son in reality, and because he didn’t like the tone behind those words, “Hey, you didn’t either--”

Scott somehow managed to fling himself out of the hug, focus incredibly on point for someone who was doped up to his eyelids five seconds ago, “But I fucked up! I made the wrong call and then suddenly Arnold was dead and he had a wife and kids-- shit, what the hell did I do?”

Okay.

First of all: way to put him back in that headspace when that’s the exact opposite you were going for, Jeff, father of the year. Second: dammit. Just… dammit. This was a big fat hand grenade in a giant handbasket that they didn’t have time to gently get out while simultaneously not yanking the pin clean off with the grace of a drunk elephant. Jeff was no stranger to Survivor’s Guilt, but there was a whole untapped pile of metaphorical C4 within his son’s head that was ready for someone to push the goddamn button.

He wanted it to be him, desperately, because it sounded like he already failed his family enough, it was all he could do at this point, but he absolutely hated that he couldn’t do it right now. This was going to take a lot of time, which they didn’t have, plus, Jeff thought he had a pretty good understanding of this new Scott and the rest of his kids. Jeff was aware that if he didn’t help his sons find their baby as fast as possible over everything else it’ll lead to a fate nobody wanted.

A shaky sigh, “Okay, Scotty, let’s get you to bed. We’ll talk strategy in the morning.”

Scott simply nodded as his father flung Scott’s arm around his broader shoulders and picked him up. Slowly and painfully but surely, father and son meandered their way to Scott’s room. With a thump a little harder than Jeff wanted, Scott flopped down on top of his sheets and immediately started snoring. Despite everything that just happened, the father couldn’t help but grin at the sight. Well, there was another thing Jeff gracefully passed onto his son.

Jeff only took Scott’s shoes off. He would’ve loved to pull the sheets up around him too, but the father didn’t want to take any chances at waking him up. Slowly tip-toeing out of the room, Jeff gave one last glance back at his son before finally letting him be and gently shutting the door. He had three other sons he needed to console, but his tired joints told him to selfishly take a moment for himself for right now unless he wanted to collapse and give his family more to deal with.

Jeff eventually made his way to his room-- which was sadly unkempt, he noticed-- and sat down on the edge of his unfamiliar bed to think.

He’ll figure something out. If he had to crawl through images of his son being brutally and bloodily tortured then by God he would with the fury of a thousand suns.

He was back and he wasn’t going to throw away any second or even third chance he was given.

---

“I got him.”

Virgil turned his comms back on, and with it, Scott’s heart restarted for the first time in a few weeks. Taking a moment for a breather, Scott leaned against the wall while practically wheezing. They have him back, holy shit, they have him back. Scott vaguely heard Gordon cry in pure relief and joy. He saw John’s side of the comms flutter for a bit before a bright flash happened. Blinking away the white spots, Scott looked at his wrist to see a fully detailed map of the compound.

Gordon spoke what they were all thinking, “Woohoo! First Allie comes back, then Johnny-boy gets us a free ticket out of here! We’re winning this race, baby!”

A very loud moment of silence. John cleared his throat, “Actually, I was going to say glad to see you in one piece, you little shit,” a playful gasp came from Virgil’s side. It was too high pitched to be from the pianist’s mouth. Scott chuckled, but the paranoid part of his brain said John wasn’t done. His brain was right, ‘“But guys… that wasn’t me. Or EOS. We still haven’t found a way to get past the metal they made these walls out of.”

That silence was even more deafening than the last, and before Virgil could utter out his typical what the fuck, a small logo appeared at the corner of their new map. One that was all too familiar. The Chaos Crew wasn’t the only one who could brand their awful deeds.

Son of a bitch.

Virgil’s order over the radio was meant for Alan, but Scott couldn’t help but listen to it too.

“Shit, Alan, you need to run.”

Making quick work of the compound once more, Scott, while booking it even quicker than last time, opened a private line between him and Gordon, “Hey, how would you feel if I said go help Virgil while I cover Alan?”

The first response was stuttering, which Scott expected, but then it was followed up by something completely out of left field for Gordon, “... Okay, just as long as you promise to bring Alan back in one piece.”

Part of Scott wanted to console Gordon, another was questioning why Gordon was so quick to give up, another wanted to say of course, I will, idiot, but the first part that made itself verbal was easy, “You know I will, buddy.”

Scott could physically picture Gordon’s tiny, little, somber nod clear as day, “Sounds good, captain. See you on the other side.”

With a click, Scott was back on the group comm. Suddenly remembering what exactly his job was, he pulled out the map so graciously given to them by The Hood. Looking at all the dots, one was heading towards a prone one (oh if that asshole did anything to Virgil…) while another one was heading right for Scott himself. Actually, in just a few seconds, right as Scott rounded the corner he would--

“Woah, look out there, Tigger!”

Yes, you heard that correctly: not tiger, Tigger. Tigger hadn’t been used since Alan was itty bitty. It always seemed like the kid had endless energy with the way he wouldn’t stop bounding off the walls and furniture. Even as a baby, Lucy had to sit with him for a few hours while he slept in his crib to make sure he would stay there. In fact, their mother gave Alan that nickname herself. She was quite the Winnie the Pooh fan, and the rest of the family figured it would be one of the ways they could keep her legacy alive for the tiny potato.

Wrapping his arms around said flailing potato, albeit much bigger than a baby, Scott thought he would collapse then and there. Alan was here, in his arms, and yeah, the sight of his dirty and somewhat ripped up IR uniform made him mad, but Scott, for once in his life, decided to focus on the here-and-now, aka his precious, alive little brother, who finally stopped struggling at the realization that hey, the person holding you is a good guy, time to turn off fight mode.

Smushing their foreheads together as much as possible, Scott desperately fought to keep the waterworks back, a smile from ear to ear hopefully taking whatever energy his tear ducts had, “You are getting such an ass beating when we get home, little bro.”

Alan jumped back with a look of What the hell?! What did I do now?!

Scott simply rolled his eyes, “Really? “Not important”? You graduated high school, tiny dude! That’s huge! You remember Gordon’s party, right?”

Alan’s mouth gaped before he closed it with slightly puffy cheeks. Those same cheeks tinged with a small blush. Alan wasn’t exactly expecting to be smothered so soon (well, he did cry his eyes out on Virgil’s shoulder, but that was different!). Shaking it off, Alan moved his hands rhythmically and rapidly, To be fair, we weren’t sure he was going to get one for a while.

Scott faltered a little bit at the ASL. Darn, he should’ve seen Alan’s lack of talking from a mile away. Scott carefully hid his disappointment from Alan. Lord knew what the kid would take it as, “Yeah, that’s what he got for barely making it. Imagine what you’re going to get!”

Scott assumed his semi-fake charm worked, as Alan seemed to play along without any kind of suspicion, Oh yeah. Fair enough.

This kid, man.

Then, slow clapping came from a dark corner, making Scott’s heart leap out of his throat as well as push Alan behind himself. Glaring as much as he could towards the invisible evil-doer, Scott didn’t have to think twice, “Alan, take my map and find Virgil and Gordon.”

The youngest looked like he was going to object.

“Go.”

He no longer did. Good.

Listening to the field commander’s orders, Scott felt his wristband slip off his wrist and a warm body leave his vicinity. An inhale. Also good. An exhale, followed by an even darker glare, “What more do you want?”

Short and straight-to-the-point and angry, two things Scott typically wasn’t. Regardless, like a cold gust of wind, footsteps started approaching him from the shadow. Once Scott saw the outline of a body, he tensed even more. Virgil would snap at him for clenching his jaw so much.

A dark chuckle reminded him of what was important. The voice that spoke reminded him of something completely different, “Now then, brother, let’s not be rude to each other!”

Scott’s pupils shrunk at the familiar sight of Gordon stepping towards him. Except it wasn’t Gordon, because Scott knew that Gordon knew better. He also knew Gordon didn’t cheekily smile like that, even after a prank, nor did he walk that straight. He always had a funny walk after WASP, and Gordon wore that fact like a badge of honor.

Oh no, Scott definitely knew who this was, “What the hell are you playing at?”

Fake-Gordon rolled his eyes, like it wasn’t obvious, “I mean if we want to go that route, why did kid insist you being in the military was the coolest thing he’d ever heard you do? Maybe I wouldn’t have been pressured into joining a branch myself in the end.”

Scott’s nostrils flared, and by God, his pupils might have actually slitted like a snake’s, or possibly even a dragon’s, “Excuse me?”

Scott blinked, and suddenly he was met by not-Virgil, “Plus, why was our conclusion after hearing a three-year-old wanting to see snow to go to a ski resort? It had to have been those big, selfish, beady eyes, right?”

“C’mon, Scotty, we gotta give you some kind of calming exercise. There’s going to come a time when neither me or John are going to be there.”

“Hmm… does yoga work?”

A snort, “Well, that’s not too bad of an idea. Maybe the person pissing you off will stop whatever they’re doing at the sight of you spontaneously doing downward dog.”

Laughter, an unfamiliar action, “Yeah, okay, but for real, those breathing exercises I’ve seen you do look okay. Let’s start there.”

Scott was not a liar by heart. He had to admit that those exercises were doing jack shit right about now.

Another blink, another brother. Familiar ginger hair was all Scott could see, “To continue that previous point, why did Dad start International Rescue again? And what led to his demise?”

“Sounds like a piece of work. Why do you keep dealing with these people again?”

“Someone has to pay the bills, Johnny. Grandma’s too focused on making the perfect poison for us.”

A roll of eyes, “Right, because the billions we have saved wouldn’t be enough to last a couple of families a few lifetimes. Glad to see your calming exercises are working at least. How’s that going for you, by the way?”

A pause. A flicker of vision around the room. Someone cleared their throat, probably himself, “It’s probably not as bad as whatever space is throwing at you. You handling it okay up there?”

Another pause, followed by a sigh, “Well, since you asked so nicely…”

Scott wanted to deflect the truth so badly right now more than anything else. Telling him he couldn’t pilot ‘One anymore would be a much more enticing option than what he was hearing.

Suddenly, Scott was looking in a mirror, “Besides, I know more than anybody that he wasn’t wanted. A mistake. I thought we Tracys hated being imperfect?”

The Hood must have known their backstories from internet articles, and being the mastermind he was, it probably took him all of three seconds to see Alan had some hidden self-worth issues. By playing the biggest Guess Who? game of all time, The Hood was most likely able to figure out some less-than-positive ideals Alan thought about himself throughout his childhood and danced circles around his already weakened mind to string together some spineless blame to put on the kid by sheer evilness alone.

Knowing his kid brother, it worked.

Scott wasn’t thinking straight-- maybe even at all when the first punch was thrown.

Just like that, Scott blacked out and was running on terminator mode. John would be disappointed. Virgil would be horrified. Gordon might find it funny. Alan wasn’t here, and thank God for that. Scott wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing. All his mind was telling him was make lots of pain hard and fast. His brain also blocked out any hit The Hood was giving him in return. Pain flared for a few seconds, then it was swept away in the puddle of rage his mind was currently being consumed in.

Soon, his out-of-it mind found its target and gripped his-- The Hood’s arm, no disguise would make him have an identity crisis, thank you very much-- nice and rough.

Scott heard the familiar snap of cartilage and felt only partially bad. If he was thinking more clearly, he would be disgusted with himself. Yes, even The Hood didn’t deserve this level of Scott’s fury. Oh, he definitely deserved to be hit by a truck, but not by Scott. It was mostly due to Scott’s sanity. If he could be this graphic and violent at all, even to the worse possible criminals, that meant he could be that way during other moments, and that was not a territory he wanted to cross into.

Welp, he was here now, and he’ll hate to admit it in the future, but the only thing that brought him out of it was a tiny gasp from a few feet away. Snapping his head up, Scott’s eyes landed squarely on a smaller-than-normal Alan, who was currently clutching his arm to his chest in an emotion Scott didn’t want to figure out at the moment. So much for going and finding Virgil and Gordon.

“Allie, help…” fake him grunted out, only making real Scott growl and tighten his hold (and probably making his case worse). Looking up from the person in his arms, Scott felt his heart split in two at the sight. There was fear and uncertainty in Alan’s blue eyes and boy did it hurt. Scott couldn’t tell if it was because even seeing a potentially-fake Scott being beaten up was bad or if it was because he’d never seen big brother be this brutal, even towards their enemies. Whatever the reason, it involved Scott being the main root of the problem.

Wait, that was The Hood’s plan. Shit… make Scott act past the point of no return in a way that was unfamiliar to Alan so the kid couldn’t be fully sure who was who, and Scott fell right into his trap, hook, line, and sinker.

Fuck.

Bloody well done, Scott, you absolute moron.

Scott faltered a little bit, “A-Alan, I--”

That falter was enough for The Hood to break an arm out of his grip and elbow him in the face. In the brief second of freedom he had, he tried dashing towards Alan, but Scott was too quick for everyone’s good and soon had the imposter back in his arms, both of them struggling in a way that made them look like they were tied into the weirdest knot in existence.

Then, an earthquake struck.

No, literally.

A big shake of the abandoned compound threw the look-a-likes about and subsequently off the platform they were on. The place was old; it didn’t take a lot of weight for that guard rail they made their way over towards while fighting to snap right off. With a yelp, the two of them gripped the edge as much as they could and held on. Crap, I know we talked with Fuse about potentially setting some stuff off, but--

Blinking, Scott saw a familiar mop of blonde hair come into view. Alan was rather panicked, clearly not sure which Scott was the real Scott. Not only that, he had little time to decide which one to save. Goodie, another reason to despise The Hood: not only has he put Alan through weeks of torment, now he’s forcing the kid to decide to either save his oldest brother and biggest hero or his personal torturer.

And Alan won’t know until he picks.

Holy hell, this was getting worse by the second. Hopefully, big brother charm can work its magic and get them the hell out of there.

“Alan, quickly, over here!”

“I can’t hold on for much longer, Alan, hurry!”

The two Scotts glared at one another in the exact same way, not making Alan’s job much easier. Another shake, another slip down the metal cliff, more screams, and Alan looked ready to tear his hair out. Scott watched as the kid looked around rapidly, probably praying for a miracle in the process. Suddenly, the kid jumped when he must have spotted something important. Within the blink of an eye, he was gone and out of their range of visions to retrieve it.

Whatever the hell he noticed better be important, because if just ended up wasting precious time then--

Another shake, probably the last one. Still, it was enough.

Both their grips gave away at the same time, screams identical (God, did he always sound that wimpy?) as they plummeted to their demises. Scott was briefly able to look up to see his brother pop his head over the cliff like a chipmunk again and grab the (albeit broken) arm of The Hood and save him. Dammit, Scott should have expected that, though, that display of anger was uncharacteristic to Alan. Probably terrified him even more than he already was. Fuck, Scott deser--

Suddenly, a rope wrapped itself around Scott’s left arm and stopped his descent. Hard. Hopefully, it was only torn stuff, they didn’t have time to deal with dislocation--

Wait.

Scott wasn’t dead if he could think about these kinds of things.

Blinking, he looked at his arm to see the familiar rope of his grappling hook around his forearm. Moving his eyesight to look past that, he saw the wide, blue eyes of his baby brother struggling to stay on top. The Hood was using his non-broken side to try and climb his way back up to safety. Huh, that’s weird. When did Alan get ahold of that? Scott must have dropped it during his scuffle with--

That’s when it hit Scott.

Alan saved them both.

Alan saved them both.

And it would be all for jack shit if Scott didn’t get his ass up there to help.

Panicking, Scott gripped the rope and started to ascend. He had two working arms and a smother complex to boot; it wasn’t long before he overtook a struggling Hood, who could only use one arm and a weakened brother (that bastard was so lucky Alan had a literal heart of gold).

Flinging his arms over the edge and pulling himself up-- and shrugging off the extra help Alan offered. Save your strength, baby bro-- Scott was in a much calmer search-and-destroy mode. He yanked his evil look-a-like up, turned him on his stomach, pinned him down, and before he could even watch Alan blink, “Sign something.”

There, now he watched Alan blink.

Scott pulled out one of his best ‘big brother’ smiles ever, “Tell me something in ASL. I don’t think The Hood learned that kind of etiquette.”

The body beneath him growled, making Alan jump and Scott tighten not only his hold but his glare. Further prove big brother’s point, why don’t cha? He lost the angry look immediately to grin at Alan once more, who seemed to be slowly getting the picture. With a gulp, the blonde slowly strung together a sentence that Scott had to laugh at, just a little bit.

Damn, could you teach me to fight like that, Scooter?

Nodding his head, Scott had to concede, “Sure. Consider it a graduation present.”

Alan blinked again, and the immense relief that washed over the boy’s shoulders would be enough to banish nightmares for at least a couple of days. Suddenly, The Hood’s disguise blinked out of existence, making both brothers jump that time. Scott didn’t falter in his grip, however. This man was going down right here and now, Scott thought darkly, staring at the prone body beneath his.

Scott saw Alan continue to sign out of the corner of his eye, You know you look like shit, right?

Scott chuckled. Alan was always able to put a smile on his face no matter the circumstances, “Yeah, well, kindred spirits, little bro.”

Scott was probably as pale as Alan was with such lack of sleep and food. Running on what was essentially a prolonged PTSD attack wasn’t healthy in the slightest, and no doubt whatever kind of bruises and scratches The Hood gave him didn’t help, however, seeing hope fill those deep-blue eyes when Alan learned he was truly being saved drowned everything out, including the way those freckles were getting lost in those eye bags.

Yeah, their entire family probably looked like shit, and the recovery process was going to be even shittier, but they were going to suffer through it together as a family would.

That made it all worth it.

Shuffling himself so one arm was free while the other kept The Hood pinned, Scott held it out towards Alan. The flinch the youngest made tore a hole in Scott’s heart that was only slightly patched when Alan leaned into the warmth and safety of his biggest bro. Long recovery process, remember? Regardless, Alan still took to the hug like a dehydrated zebra did a pond, and that was good enough for Scott.

The Hood groaned underneath them.

Yep, good enough.

[thatsparrow]

(alan grant/ellie sattler • post-fallen kingdom • read on ao3)

"Goddamn Hammond," Alan says when he sees the push alert from the New York Times. Then, "Ellie, wake up." It's somewhere near 2 A.M. but Nublar and Sorna had turned him into a light sleeper and that particular nervous habit has proved harder to kill than a genetically engineered raptor. His glasses are still sitting on the nightstand and so he has to squint a little at the screen to read it properly—Ellie and the kids gave him hell for weeks when he finally caved and increased the font size—but his eyes aren't so bad that he can't recognize the earth-shaking magnitude of the situation spelled out by the headline.  

LIVE: Seven different species of dinosaurs have been spotted in and around the Northern California town of Mendocino. They are believed to have originated from the closed Costa Rican theme park, Jurassic World.

"Alan?" Ellie asks, half asleep and eyes blinking shut against the light off the screen. "What is it?" He offers the phone in lieu of an answer, waits as her vision adjusts enough for her to read it, knows she's finished when her whole body goes fossil-still.

"Goddamn Hammond," Alan says again, pressing his fingers against the bridge of his nose. "I don't care that he's dead. Damn him for his recklessness, damn him for the parks, and damn him for every act of foolishness that's followed." He lets out a slow sigh, rubs at his eyes. "I'd never admit it to the bastard, but Ian was right. It was only a matter of time until something like this happened."

Ellie has the full article open now, but it's no more than a short paragraph, this story is developing at the bottom. "We don't know what this is, yet. Maybe it's just another San Diego."

"A half-dozen people dead plus some kid's labrador?"

"Short term," Ellie says. "Containable. It sounds like whatever species have been seen so far are all herbivorous."

"You trust the people of Mendocino to know the difference?"

"I trust them to recognize sharp teeth." She sighs, pulls her thumb across the screen to refresh the article even though it's been no more than a minute. "What a mess. What an absolute mess." She hands the phone back to him, lets out a tired exhale. "What I wouldn't give to put Hammond's genie back in the bottle."

"What should we do?"

"Sell any remaining stock in InGen?" He raises an eyebrow at her and she smiles a little, but there's no humor in it. "That was a joke. I don't know, Alan—what can we do? We're academics, not dinosaur hunters. Our only relevant experience here is not having died twenty-five years ago. We could offer ourselves up in an advisory capacity, I guess, but even then, there are plenty of people out there who have done hands-on work with them. Whatever insight we may have had is outdated by over a decade at this point. Comparatively, we're like—"

"Dinosaurs?"

"Exactly."

Alan exhales, considering. "You're right, I know that, but I just—" he breaks off, turning over the phone in his hand. There's a video embedded in the article, a grainy thumbnail of what looks like the back of a Stegosaurus. The way the image is frozen, it looks like the Stego's tail is in mid-motion, suspended on an arc that would take it through the wall of a garden shed. With any luck, Ellie is right, and all the theropods were killed by the eruption on Nublar. Then again, if luck was playing any role here, Hammond's experiments should have failed at the start. "It feels like we should be doing something, doesn't it?"

"It does."

"What if we drove up there?"

"To Mendocino?" Ellie asks, and he nods. "Tonight?"

"I was thinking first thing in the morning, maybe. Wait until more reports come in. Who knows—maybe this will all have been cleared up by then, anyway."

"You think?"

"No, but I've never tried being an optimist before."

Alan refreshes the article again and sees a new paragraph of text, bare bones information that mentions three additional species—including a suspected Allosaurus—have been spotted near I-20 heading east. Life finding a way. Goddamn Malcolm. Goddamn Hammond. Goddamn it all.

—

The next day does bring more news, and none of it good. The current theory is that Hammond's former partner, Benjamin Lockwood, funded some sort of rescue operation to Nublar, retrieved an unknown number of species that were brought to his Northern California estate for a black market auction, and at some point during this process—predictably, Alan thinks—the dinosaurs escaped and bedlam ensued. Further details include: Lockwood's body in an upstairs bedroom, his death attributed (surprisingly) to natural causes; correspondence between Lockwood's assistant, Eli Mills, and an auctioneer, both of whom are still missing, though suspected dead (and, Alan presumes, suspected eaten); and an unknown theropod body in Lockwood's front hall, impaled on the horns of an Agujaceratops skull. Most of the servers in the lab below the estate were blown skyward, but of the data that's been recovered, it seems to be another genetic experiment, a cross-breeding of the Indominus with a Velociraptor.

("They never fucking learn," Alan says when he gets to that section of the report, hands white-knuckled around his coffee cup. "This has Wu's fingerprints all over it. Not enough to put raptor and rex DNA in a blender with whatever else they could get their hands on—no, he had to scale it down and make it twice as clever. If this wasn't intended for military application, I'll eat my hat, then buy another one and eat that, too.")

Though the article leaves a good number of questions unanswered, it does make clear that Hammond's follies have again found their way to the mainland, and with a sense of permanency this time. New sightings are reported with alarming frequency as the morning goes on, increasing in both the number of different species and the distance they've traveled from Lockwood's estate. Tracking efforts have been mobilized, but it's all too little, too late—not to mention the public debate that sparks up again over the question of recapturing or killing.

"Okay," Ellie says once they've read through the reports, putting her phone face-down on the kitchen table and burying her face in her hands. "It's a mess. Officially. This makes what happened in San Diego look like an incident at a petting zoo. We've got at least twenty species running loose—including, so far, a T. rex, a Baryonyx, and an Allosaurus—that are all spreading further apart by the moment, and as of now, the best method of tracking them is to wait for someone standing by to post about it to Twitter."  

"I hate Twitter," Alan says, reflexive.

"I know you do." Ellie smiles at him a little, then lets out a slow breath. "So what should we do? We know more than we did last night, but really it's just enough to tell us that this situation is worse than we could have imagined. I'm ready to jump in the car and start driving if you are, but at this point, I'm not sure what good that would do."

"Might feel better than just sitting here," Alan says, lacing his hands behind his neck to keep them from reaching for his phone again. "But no, you're right, I'm not sure what it would actually accomplish."

Ellie's quiet for a moment, fingers drumming an absent rhythm on the table. They weren't exactly young when Hammond first brought them to Nublar, but looking now at the ridged veins on the back of her hands—thinking of the new wrinkles across his own forehead and his hair that's gone grey-white in recent years—it strikes Alan how much older they've both become. Maybe too old to be playing games like this.

"Can I ask you something?" Ellie says.

"Always."

"Imagine that we did have a plan, and we knew exactly what was needed to make a difference here—what side of the debate would we be on?"

"What do you mean?"

Her hands are still restless, index finger tapping lightly against the wood. "Half the world seems to think they should be shot down as they're spotted, and the other wants to see them safely rounded up and brought to some sort of preserve. We never talked about it much when it was a question of the eruption on Nublar, but now I'm curious"

Alan frowns a little, brows pulling together. "They're dangerous, Ellie. That's more true than ever with no fences or open ocean between them and the rest of the world."

"The sauropods aren't."

"They're megafauna that belong to a different age. They can still do damage on a scale that society isn't ready for." He looks at Ellie, a little surprised. "You think they should be kept alive? After everything that's happened?"

"Don't get me wrong, I'll be the first to agree that everyone would be better off if all of the raptors had died before they'd hatched, but—" she breaks off, smiling at him a little helplessly. "I don't know, Alan. I think back to when Hammond first drove us around in that Jeep and you turned my head to look out the window and it—it was all of my childhood dreams come to life. Nothing could compare to seeing the bones that I'd spent my life studying brought to life in front of me and standing sixty feet tall, and I know you felt that, too. Look, say what you will about Hammond—and God knows that I have—but whatever may have been the end result, you can't deny that there was something noble in his intentions."

"I seem to remember another saying that has to do with 'good intentions'."

"Alan—"

"They're not real, Ellie. You know that. They are, at best, distantly removed cousins of the dinosaurs that really lived, and probably more closely resemble whatever amphibian DNA that Wu mixed into the fossilized blood. Whatever you felt—whatever we felt—on Nublar after seeing them for the first time, it was just a fantasy."

Ellie's smile turns a little sad. "It was a pretty spectacular fantasy." She pauses, then reaches out to take one of Alan's hands, both of them weathered and older, palms still a little callused from years spent in the field. Ellie's thumb runs a gentle pattern over his skin. "I'm going to ask you for a favor now, alright? For me, and for the sake of your younger self, I want you to imagine a world where it's not all or nothing. Where kids can grow up learning that raptors actually had feathers, and where they can visit a preserve and see the drawings from their picture books come to life. You don't have to remind me of all the bad that's come from the parks and Hammond's efforts, but you can't lie to me and pretend that there wasn't some good in there, too."

Alan makes a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat—which is as close as he's willing to get to a yes—but then he does let his mouth twitch towards a smile, lifts their joined hands and presses a kiss to her knuckles. As if he could ever say no to anything she asked of him.

Ellie gets up and moves to take their emptied mugs to the sink, and as she starts to run the water, Alan does as she's requested, allowing himself to remember the bright moments among the bad. Weighs the terror he'd felt at seeing the T. rex chewing through the Jeep's roof towards Lex and Tim against the moment of resting his palm against the gentle curve of the Brachiosaur's nose. Watching the Spino's hungry jaws carve through the hull of the Kirbys' chartered plane with all the ease of crushing a soda can. Leaning his body on the belly of the Triceratops and feeling its breath thrumming all the way through his chest.

No, Ellie's not wrong—for all his flaws and his arrogance, Hammond had managed to build something beautiful. Still, it's just as much a lie to pretend that the near-death experiences shouldn't weigh heavier than the rest. Were those brief moments of splendor really worth Muldoon or Arnold or any of the others who'd lost their lives for the sake of Hammond's hubris? Not to mention whatever poor civilians might now stumble into the path of the wandering Allosaurus or Baryonyx or any other not-yet-identified theropods who have found their way to the mainland. It's too much cost with not enough reward. Would it be worth it if the carnivores were gone? You can't play that game when the technology is already there; someone is always going to get ambitious and want something with more teeth.

It's a question that keeps him up at night, even after he and Ellie have decided that there's nothing for them to do at the moment—other than keep an eye on their phones and wait for a call from the government or InGen. So they wait, and Alan wonders, and meanwhile news reports still surface with regular frequency of sightings. It's a disaster with no obvious answer, and he's no closer to coming up with any sort of solution—but at least if there's a decision to be made, it won't be coming from him.

And then the presumed-dead Claire Dearing calls Ellie about a potential rescue mission for the last remaining Velociraptor and the whole question suddenly stops being so theoretical.

Goddamn it.