#no but thank god for the workshop or i probably would have just aborted

[gilliansanderson]

If Ever There Is Tomorrow; Chapter 1

An AU in which Mulder and Scully meet three times over the course of their lives; told in a series of vignettes.

Tagging @today-in-fic and fulfilling my @fictober promise. I also wanted to dedicate this one to all the lovely, talented people who helped me out during the @fic-files write-in, because without their support and feedback I probably would not have had the courage to put this out there.

1. As Time Goes By

Spring, 1993

The end of the 20th century is only the beginning. Change hits the nineties at a breakneck speed; Hair is getting bigger, technology is getting smaller, colors are getting brighter while the climate begins to suffer, but in the midst of a new era, some old skeletons are about to be unearthed. The third time they meet is the least bloody, yet opens more wounds. It comes, like the times before, suddenly and without warning.

Well, that’s not entirely true. Mulder had been given plenty of warning when Skinner had informed him he was being assigned a partner; A scientist who was to, no doubt, disprove his work and report back to the kind of men he was fighting. To keep him in line and keep him from going overboard. This hadn’t come as a surprise, he always knew the closer he got to the truth, the more curveballs they would throw his way. What made him almost fall out of his chair was the name, Dana Scully.

A name he couldn’t claim had never crossed his mind.

Dana Scully haunted him like an intrusive thought or the vague memory of a strange fever dream. She reminded him of a time he would much rather forget, yet the feeling lingered; the possibility that maybe one day, their paths might cross again. When he’d heard that she’d enlisted he found himself needlessly frequenting Quantico in the hope and the dread of catching a flash of ginger hair. Her thesis was printed and dog-eared the moment it was published; because challenging one of the greatest minds the world has ever known was something so quintessentially Dana Scully, and he was ever the masochist.

His hopes were not high; he didn’t expect her to accept this assignment, and he certainly didn’t suppose she would darken his basement door that very same day, but suddenly, here she is, smiling down on him from the high road.

“Agent Mulder,” she says quietly, with an air of disbelief, “I’ve been assigned to work with you,”

They shake hands like strangers, his fingers burn at her touch; the sensation lingers even after her hand falls away. She had always run as warm as her complexion, His summer girl had become fall. Her hair is darker, neatly tamed. She teeters precariously on heels that give her precious extra inches, that demand he looks her in the eye. Her ill-fitting tweed suit hangs awkwardly on her slender frame; the whole ensemble reminds him of a child playing make-believe. Hidden is her rebellious heart under sensible attire and a polite smile; the heart he knows he broke, and one he refuses to break again.

So he puts down his slides and puts up his guard.

“Isn’t it nice to be so highly regarded? So who’d you tick off to get stuck with this detail, Scully?”

For a moment she’s stunned, then the next she recovers, “Actually, I’m looking forward to working with you,” she tells him.

He responds with a bitter smile, “Oh really? I was under the impression that you were sent to spy on me.”

A fire sparks behind her eyes, she looks as if she was about to retort before he cuts her off. “I’m surprised you didn’t object to your placement, Scully, what with our tempestuous history,”

She hesitates, he hates that she hesitates, hates that he makes her hesitate. “I can’t say I wasn’t caught off guard,” she admits, “Though I knew it was a possibility we would run into each other when I started working at the Bureau…”

“Yes, this is interesting happenstance isn’t it, Doctor?” She tenses, Mulder stands and brushes past her in order to miss her patented Scully glare.

“If you’re suggesting that you played any part in any decision concerning my career…”

“I’m not suggesting anything, I just always supposed you’d be headed towards a Nobel prize by now, yet here you are wasting your talents in the basement with me,”

Scully blinks and tilts her pointed chin, “You think I’m wasting my talents here, Mulder?”

“It’s just that in most of my work, the laws of physics rarely seem to apply,” he shrugs and hits the lights. In the unearthly glow of his projector, Scully looks like a ghost.

He shows her the dead kids, barely older than they had been, once upon a time. He tells her his theories, she rebukes them with a smirk, slowly the ice begins to thaw and a familiar feeling begins to take root.

Then she leaves, and the basement feels darker and emptier than it ever had before. So Scully was back in his life and maybe, plausibly, this time she would stay. Mulder locks the office door behind him that evening and whistles the whole way home.

Fall, 1978

September in Connecticut, 1978 is record-breaking. The air as thick and hot as soup, her stiff collared shirt clings to her skin and dampens at the base of her neck. She wipes away the sweat beading on her forehead with the end of her ugly striped green tie and ignores the disapproving look her mother gives her.

Dana had always marvelled at how the air was always different in every new place they landed, she secretly ranked them from the icy unforgiving winds of the Scottish moors to the serene and exotic air of Japan. Greenwich so far was not doing too well on this list, however, it looked like she was going to have to get used to it. She had long since gotten used to the routine of neatly packing up her life in matching suitcases and burying a lunchbox in the backyard.

Melissa left a trail of broken hearts behind them like push pins in a map. Her sister had always been better at making friends, she claimed it had something to do with her aura, Dana wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, only that hers was probably broken. Usually, by the time she had started warming to people, her father would sit the four of them on the couch and tell them it was time to start saying goodbyes, so Dana eventually stopped trying to find people to say goodbye to.

She had her friends, they were called Mom, Ahab, Missy and Charlie. Sometimes Bill, when he wasn’t being a pain in the A Double-S. They were all she really needed. When she was very young, she even had an imaginary friend called Lucy, who took the form of a red squirrel. Lucy would curl up behind her hair and whispered secrets in her ear. Dana liked the fact that nobody else could see her, that she was hers and hers alone.

Sometimes she would pen a letter to the boy who had forgotten her, only to burn it in the bathtub with her mother’s lighter.

But still, her Mom always tried. She heard her arguing sometimes with her father that it wasn’t good for them, that kids needed stability. It looked like this year she had finally won the war and a house was bought, not rented.

She shifts uncomfortably as her bare thighs stick to the Principals rigid leather seats. The Principal in question was a tall British woman with large teeth, a sensible mousey bob and a collection of motivational animal posters. Dana catches the eye of a mournful kitten hanging from a curtain, encouraging her to Hang In There! and somehow feels even less optimistic.

“Now Diana, a little birdy told me that you’re especially talented at Science is that right, dear?” She smiles in a condescending way that makes Scully bristle. Bill snickers to her right, Missy kicks him in the shin on her behalf.

“It’s Dana, Ms Paterson,” Her mother corrects her patiently.

“Oh, my apologies, Dana.”

Dana represses the urge to roll her eyes, instead, begins to fiddle with the brand new chain around her neck. Naturally she was the last of the three to be enrolled, but unfortunately for her, also the one the school was most interested in.

“As I was saying, it seems you are just the model student, and if you don’t mind the extra work, we might be able to sign you up to the tutoring scheme, we have a nice young man who is in need of a little extra help in physics,”

Maggie nods encouragingly at her, clearly ecstatic at the prospect of her troubled young daughter making a friend. Dana tries feebly to muster her mothers’ enthusiasm,

“Sure, Miss, sounds… neat,”

“Wonderful,” she croons, “I hope you don’t mind, but I already took the pleasure of asking Fox to come by the office, so you could get to know each other,”

Dana’s hand stilled at the base of her throat, she felt her mother stiffen beside her, and her siblings’ squabbles fall silent. No. It couldn’t be that uncommon a name. “Fox?” she falters.

“Yes, quite an odd name isn’t it? He’s truly lovely boy, very very bright, unfortunately, he had to be held back a year…” Ms Paterson yammers on, but Dana had long since stopped hearing her words, as a minute later he appeared.

He was taller and lanky, the skin on his cheeks textured and he was in dire need of a haircut, but he was undoubtedly the same wide-eyed boy who had been her first real friend. And with wide eyes, he stares at her from the doorway, as if he couldn’t believe them himself.

“Scully?”

Framed by a halo of light from the hall, the image of him becomes blurred by the tears which spring to her eyes. Her chair falls backwards with a heavy thud as shoots to her feet. She mutters an apology to the baffled headmistress before she hurries from the room.

“Scully,” Mulder pleads, catching her hand as she darts past and clutches it tight. Electricity floods her veins. She looks into those familiar hazel eyes and pauses only a moment before she pulls her hand away and runs.

Summer, 1969

The summer of ‘69 is worthy of its song. Rock and Roll is at its peak, a man walks on the moon, and somewhere in New England, a lonely little boy meets a lonely little girl.

With a startled wail and a resounding thump, she falls out of a tree into his yard and into his life.

The day until that moment had been dull and unremarkable. Having escaped captivity and found refuge in his favourite spot, under a tall oak tree overlooking the tranquil sea; Fox William Mulder, seven and three quarters, jumps with a start and stares at the heap of limbs and hand me downs, as it groans then starts to giggle.

“Are you okay?” he asks, as his initial shock subsides.

“Yeah, yeah,” it says, “I’m fine,”

Dana Katherine Scully, six and a half, sits up to brush off the worst of the debris but lets out a sharp gasp as a lightning bolt of pain shoots through her wrist. However, being the tough cookie she was having grown up playing rough with William Scully Jr, the sprain was not enough to make her cry.

“You don’t look okay, you’re bleeding,” Mulder observes. She touches a hand to her mouth which sure enough, comes away red. Between them on the crisply trimmed grass lies a pearly white tooth. The ruffled girl picks it up and studies it curiously, tonguing the fresh gap in her gums, then tucks it into the pocket of her overalls.

“I guess you’re gonna see the tooth fairy,” he lisps, gesturing to his own missing front teeth. Her freckles dance as she wrinkles her nose.

“The tooth fairy isn’t real,” she replies, spitting scarlet on the ground and wiping her mouth on her arm, staining her skin like war paint.

“Is too, and so is Santa Claus,”

He offers a hand to help her to her feet, which she takes with a bloody, gap-toothed grin. This girl was brand new, he knew every fresh face in this small seaside town, and not one of them had ever smiled at him like that before. She’s all skinned elbows and scabby knees. She looks like she was spat out by the sun, with a fiery rat’s nest of auburn hair and a mischievous gleam in her bright blue eyes. He feels like Isaac Newton, hit on the head with the discovery of the century.

“You’re not from around here are you?” he asks.

She shakes her head, “No, we just moved here this week. My Dad’s gone to sea, I was trying to see his boat from up there when I slipped,” She replies, gesturing to the web of twisted branches above their heads.

“He’s a pirate?” he jokes; she quirks a little brow.

“No. He’s a Captain,”

“Captain Hook?”

Fox Mulder is still at the age where girls are kind of gross, but the sincerity with which this pretty tomboy laughs makes his ears turn red regardless. She was like a breath of fresh air after spending the whole day trapped inside a stuffy room, which incidentally he had.

“Fox,” he blurts at her, suddenly losing his cool.

“What did you call me?” she replies hotly, her un-injured hand flying self-consciously to her mussed red hair.

“No! my name is – “

“Fox!” They jump at the booming disembodied voice calling from the house a few meters away, “What in the hell are you doing?”

“Crap,” he mutters. Scully can’t help but flinch at the use of the word which would have cost her her dessert. “I’m supposed to be grounded, I think I’d better go,”

She tries not to be disappointed, but finds herself reluctant to say goodbye to this curious boy with a strange sense of humor, who believes in myths and fairy tales; but he makes no move to leave, equally unwilling to say goodbye to the girl who dresses like a boy and smells like the sea, who climbs trees and doesn’t cry when she falls. They eye each other hesitantly until finally, she breaks the silence.

“Your name is Fox?” she asks.

He makes a face, “Yeah, but I hate it. I like my last name better. It’s Mulder,”

“Mulder,” she tries it on her tongue and decides she likes the taste. She straightens her back and offers her hand like she’s seen adults do a thousand times before. “Ok. Nice to meet you, Mulder, my name’s Dana, but I guess you can call me Scully,”

“Scully,” he beams and takes her tiny, dirty hand in his. They shake in childish ignorance to how their stars had just aligned.

[hale-13]

Airway

By Hale13

For the Summer of Whump Day 29 Prompt - Control

The only real drawback of the current iteration of his suit, Peter thought, was its lack of air filtration. With the tools and workshop space that Mr. Stark provided him with Peter was able to make a Spidey suit that was top of the line in every aspect except for the ventilation; for all intents and purposes Peter was really just breathing through high tech spandex. The tightly woven fabric did, minimally, protect him from inhaling smoke and other harmful chemicals but not enough.

Words: 2407, Chapters: 1/1 (complete), Language: English

Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Peter Parker & May Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, May Parker, Bruce Banner

TW: Medical Procedures, Panic

Read on AO3 or below the line break.

The only real drawback of the current iteration of his suit, Peter thought, was its lack of air filtration. With the tools and workshop space that Mr. Stark provided him with Peter was able to make a Spidey suit that was top of the line in every aspect except for the ventilation; for all intents and purposes Peter was really just breathing through high tech spandex. The tightly woven fabric did, minimally, protect him from inhaling smoke and other harmful chemicals but not enough.

Which is what landed him in his current situation of sitting with his mask pulled up to the bridge of his nose and an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth as he took shallow, wheezing breaths.

The apartment fire that he had responded to still had a surprisingly large number of people stuck in hard to reach places that left Peter exposed longer than he would have liked. His throat felt like it was on fire and his lungs felt tight the way they used to feel when he had an asthma attack. The fire fighter that had passed him the oxygen mask earlier crouched down in front of him with a worried look on her ash stained face.

“I still think you should let us take you to the hospital,” she said worriedly as she adjusted the flow of oxygen. Peter shook his head..

“I’m good,” he croaked, trying not to wince at just how destroyed his voice sounded and display as much confidence as he could. She still looked dubious.

“Is there anyone you can stay with tonight?” She pressed. “You shouldn’t be alone just in case.”

“I’’ll be okay,” he promised, removing the oxygen mask and pulling his own down to cover his face. It immediately became harder to breathe and he regretted giving up the clean air but he knew if he didn’t get out of there soon he would have a much bigger problem. “Thanks for the help!” He called as he swung out, his breathing becoming more labored as he webbed away.

His HUD fizzed out for a second before directing to the Tower and Peter rolled his eyes at Karen but obliged. May was working a late shift and Peter did feel pretty shitty. It probably wouldn’t hurt to hang around the Tower with its fully stocked and staffed MedBay for the evening. He had to stop a few times on his way to catch his breath but he made it to the landing pad with few issues.

“You stink,” Tony greeted him as he walked in, pulling his ashy mask off his face and letting it drop on one of the many end tables. “You committing arson now?”

“Ha ha,” Peter said hoarsely with a slight cough as he ventured into the kitchen to Fran a bottle of water to gulp down. Tony narrowed his eyes over his cup of coffee in judgement and concern.

“Karen said they put you on oxygen,” he said accusingly and Peter groaned and dropped his forehead to rest on the cool counter top, taking aborted breaths through his mouth. The smell of smoke still on his suit was making it hard to take deep breaths in.

“Only for a couple minutes,” Peter answered, coughing again and taking another swig of water.

“Go take a shower,” his mentor ordered. “Leave your suit in your room and I’ll send it down to FRI for deep cleaning although at this point it might be worth it to just toss it and start again from scratch.”

“But I just broke it in,” Peter whined, trudging off to the room Tony had set aside for his use. He may be right though – smoke was a notoriously hard stench to get out of fabric.

The hot water felt heavenly on his skin and Peter spent probably too long under the strong spray but, unfortunately, his chest still felt tight and heavy when he got out. He paused in front of the mirror, trying to take deep, even inhales and he squinted his eyes in confusion. He had helped out on a few burning buildings and had never felt this way before. Deciding he probably just needed some rest, Peter left the bathroom and joined Mr. Stark back out in the common room.

He only got about halfway through his soup and an episode of The Office before he passed out, head leaned back against the cushions.

——————————————

The room was lit only by the glow of the projector when Peter woke up unable to breathe.

He gasped and flailed as he woke up, smacking Mr. Stark in the face and causing him to yelp as he tried to inhale through what felt like a straw. “Lights up to fifty,” Mr. Stark barked out and Peter snapped his eyes closed against the blue-toned overhead lights snapping on over him. “Fuck Peter,” his mentor said, scrambling of the couch and scooping Peter up in his arms.

Peter felt dizzy and his vision was spotted with black dots as he was carried to the elevator. He could hear his mentor yelling something but couldn’t comprehend what was being said as he lifted one shaky hand up to clutch at his, now swollen, neck and he could feel panic bubbling up in him.

‘Don’t black out,’ he told himself as he tried to calm down and even out his breathing. ‘It’s fine. You’re fine.’

“Bruce!” Tony shouted as he deposited Peter on, what must have been, a bed in one of the exam rooms in the Tower MedBay. “He can’t breathe!”

An oxygen mask was shoved over Peter’s face but it did little to help him but he gripped it with a weak hand anyway, gasping into it and squinting his eye open. “Hey Peter,” Dr. Banner said in his usual calm voice, raising the bed up so Peter was sitting and grabbing a light and a tongue depressor. “I need you to open your mouth for me.”

Peter shakily nodded and dropped the mask to open his mouth, gagging on the tongue depressor and swaying a little at the loss of the little oxygen he was getting. Bruce swore and placed the mask back over Peter’s face, pressing a blue button on the wall and lowering Peter back to lie flat. “His airway is closing!”

“What!” Tony said, panicked and grabbing Peter’s hand to squeeze as the room burst to life with medical professionals. A nurse grabbed him and bodily pulled him from the room as he yelled for answers. Peter could feel his own panic bubbling up in his gut but he also felt like he may pass out and didn’t have the energy to explore it.

“Peter,” Bruce said firmly and calmly from directly above him as a nurse cut off his shirt and another placed an IV catheter in his arm. “Your throat is full of soot from the fire earlier and is causing your trachea to swell and close. We’re going to knock you out so we can place an endotracheal tube to help you breathe. It’s going to be jarring when you wake up later but it will be okay. I need you to trust me.”

Peter could feel tears welling up in his eyes and spilling over his face from the stress and effort but didn’t get a chance to respond before his muscles relaxed like wet clay and his vision spun into darkness.

——————————————

“I’m on my way,” May Parker’s wet voice said through the phone as Tony paced up and down the hallway outside the room where the medical staff was working with Peter. “God Tony fuck!” She said, sounding out of breath as if she were running.

“Happy’s on his way to get you,” Tony promised her, trying to control his own racing heart and tensed nerves. “He’ll be there in ten minutes and he’ll get you back much faster than the bus. I’ve got him May. I promise I’ve got him.”

May let out a sob into the phone and Tony felt his heart clench. “If anything happens to him,” she said and Tony nodded. He knew. He understood.

“Just focus on getting here safely,” he told her as he stopped to stare at Peter’s door. “I’ll let you know when I hear something.”

“The very second you find anything out,” she told him firmly before hanging up the phone. Tony rubbed a hand over his face and dropped into one of the chairs that were spaced throughout the hall, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and closing his eyes.

Waking up to Peter panicking, pale and with blue lips was probably going to be in the top five worst experiences of his life and would definitely haunt his nightmares for weeks to come. Bruce hadn’t told him anything before ordering him removed from the room and his imagination was, most likely, worse than anything that was happening to Peter but he didn’t do well not knowing what was going on.

“Update FRI?” He asked his AI hopefully, tapping on the comm link he kept in his ear basically all of his waking hours.

“Sorry boss,” she said remorsefully. “Mr. Parker’s condition is classified.”

Tony’s stomach knotted further and he stood back up to pace again, unable to sit down and needing to work out his restless energy as he waited for an update on the kid. About fifteen minutes of nail biting later, Bruce slipped out of the room and gestured to Tony to sit back down.

“He’ll be okay,” he started out, making Tony sag in dizzying relief. His throat was filled with soot from the fire earlier and it caused his trachea to swell closed. We knocked him out to place an endotracheal tube until the swelling went down but it was already to severe so we had to perform a cricthyrotomy to establish a viable airway instead.”

Tony felt the blood drain from his face and he felt a little faint. “Talk to me like I’m an idiot Bruce,” he said, desperate and hoping it wasn’t what he thought it was. “I need you to lay it out for me.”

Bruce looked worried and reached out a hand to grab Tony’s wrist to take his pulse. “I need you to calm down,” Bruce said firmly. “Yes, this is scary but Peter is fine. With his healing abilities he’s going to make a full recovery and he’ll probably be back on his feet in just a couple days alright? Peter is out of danger but it isn’t going to help his recovery if you have a heart attack okay?”

Tony nodded, making a concentrated effort to do his four-seven-eight breathing and calm down. It took a couple minutes but Bruce was patient. “Better?” He asked and Tony nodded, gesturing with his hand for the other scientist to continue. “We had to make a small incision in Peter’s neck and trachea and insert an endotracheal tube through that incision since his upper airway was too swollen to allow it to pass. He is able to breath on his own with this in but we have him on supplemental oxygen just to support him. He is on a ventilator just to give his lungs a chance to recover but he can breathe on his own – its just supplemental alright? We’ve started epinephrine and steroid therapy to reduce the swelling and we’ll probably be able to remove the tube in twenty-four to thirty-six hours.”

“He’s okay though?” Tony asked a little desperately. “He’s fine?”

“Yes Tony,” Bruce told him with an indulgent smile. “He’s okay and he’ll make a full recovery.”

“Can I see him?” He asked, staring at the closed door.

“In a few minutes,” Bruce promised. “The nurses and respiratory therapists are getting him settled but then you can go in. Do you want to call his aunt and I can update her in the meantime?”

“Yeah,” Tony agreed, passing his phone over to Bruce and feeling his muscles unclench just the smallest amount.

The kid was okay.

———————————————

Peter woke to the clicking and popping of artificial air and immediately panicked at he felt his chest rise and fall against his volition and he grasped at the loose gown resting over him before a gentle hand took his and pulled it away. “Hey kiddo its alright, you’re okay. You can breathe the machine is just helping a little.”

Peter cracked his eyes open and made eye contact with his mentor who was seated beside him. May was loosely gripping his hand on the other side, her head resting next to his arm on the bed and soft puffs of air hitting his skin as she slept. The machine clicked again and it took everything in Peter not to fight it. Tony ran his fingers over his knuckles in a soothing gesture.

“We’re going to have to work on your suit,” the man said with a little smile. “It’s getting a full respirator and oxygen tank. It’s going to be a challenge since its so sleek but I think, between the two of us, we can figure it out.” Peter let his brows furrow in confusion and Tony sighed. “Your throat closed up because of the smoke,” he said. “You’re going to be fine though.”

The ventilator clicked again and Peter squeezed his eyes shut and tried to keep calm. He had never done well with loss of control and he could feel his Spidey sense making his hairs raise and his adrenaline spike. He wanted to panic but the artificial breaths wouldn’t let him and it just made it so much worse.

“Hey hey,” Tony said soothingly, rubbing his free hand through Peter’s hair in a calming gesture. “It’s alright.” He gave Peter a considering look then hesitantly offered: “Want me to have them put you out?”

A thrill of relief shot though Peter and he squeezed his mentor’s hand in desperation as he pressed the call button. Peter couldn’t see the nurse but he heard Tony ask for the sedation like he was underwater, not calming until he could feel the cool rush of drugs in his veins.

“I’ve got you buddy,” the man said, a thumb rubbing over Peter’s cheekbone once before settling back in his hair. “You just check out for a while.”

The darkness was welcoming as Peter fell into it; feeling safe with his aunt and mentor watching over him.

[punkscowardschampions]

Jac & Jude

Jac: I know this is probably weird Jac: or just an unwelcome sight, my name in your inbox Jac: but if/when you have some time to spare, I'd like to talk, if you're willing Jude: whatever you heard I didn't do it Jac: We could workshop that but no, that's not what it is Jude: 🗨 about what then? Jac: Um, if I've gotta summarize it in a message Jac: the past 2-ish years? Jude: bit late to start 🗨 now but if you wanna not be 🤐 Jac: That's okay if you want it that way now but I can offer you explanations, if you want that too Jude: 10/10 opener Jac: Thanks Jac: though if you're saying it's as believable as your 'I didn't do it' I take some offence Jude: ⚽️ 🏀 🏈 ⚾️ 🥎 🏐 🏉 in my court is top for novelty value alone Jude: power might go to my head 🤯 Jac: get your kicks where you can, honestly Jude: 😜✌ Jac: You'll let me know then? Jude: [lowkey ages later] Jude: 🗨 if you still wanna Jac: Okay Jac: I appreciate it, hopefully you will too Jac: that's all I want really, so, obviously I'm the one that owes you whatever you need to hear but if you wanna give me an indication of where to start, it might be easier for us both Jude: idk where it even started Jac: for me, I'd say when I started to be friends with Savannah, at the start of transition year, and it really got real at the end of that year Jac: but maybe before I was slacking too, that's definitely possible Jude: it ain't a job Jac: no, I meant that it is work though, maintaining good relationships and being a decent sister, work that I wasn't putting in Jude: I've always been hard work for you, soz like Jac: It certainly wasn't your fault Jac: or what I was trying to allude to Jude: 🗨 or not goes both ways Jac: Okay, you can think that, you don't have a lot to suggest otherwise, I see that Jude: you talk to Jess cos he does your head in less than me, since forever Jac: In general, me and Jess have more in common than we do, I think Jac: but I didn't talk to him for the whole first year either, and I only did at all in the second because he did me a favour in a way I couldn't Jac: but I might have to go back to explain that in a less vague way Jude: go where you wanna, it's your 📖 Jude: I'm 👂 Jac: I'm not telling it for me Jac: but alright, I'll just do it Jac: so, Amelia was in love with me, it wasn't reciprocated, and she couldn't be my friend any longer, I lost her Jac: then what happened to Isabelle happened and I lost her Jac: and also Savannah at the same time Jac: and what happened to Is fucked me up, as well as the shit people were saying about it, about me around it Jac: it all got on top of me, I didn't cope with it, I took that out on a lot of people, you were one of them Jude: nowt I don't already know Jac: Right Jac: well I didn't know you knew that, so I felt I should tell you Jude: everyone knows about the 😍💖 Jude: I missed Sienna too & there's no way what happened to Izzy wouldn't fuck you up Jac: okay Jac: well it was rough, for a time there, and I didn't really have anyone to help me deal so I did some bad and stupid shit that didn't just affect me Jude: yeah Jac: and I'm sorry about that Jac: for however that affected you, at all Jude: alright Jac: and I only talked to Jesse because something really bad happened and he was there so I had no choice, really Jude: what was it? Jac: I don't wanna make you feel bad Jac: just to say how bad it was, like I'm being dramatic or whatever Jude: you can't just drop that something really bad happened & then not tell me ?? Jac: I had to have an abortion Jude: fuck Jac: I know that's a lot Jude: idk what to say Jac: You don't have to say anything Jude: ??! Jude: yeah I do, we can't just leave that there Jac: You don't have to like, try to make me feel better though Jac: I can talk more Jac: it was last christmas time Jac: and yeah Jac: it was the hardest thing I'll probably ever have to do Jude: Christmas Jac: yeah, great timing, right Jude: who was it? do I know him? Jac: no, it was some guy at some party, complete accident Jude: I'm never hooking up with anyone ever Jac: I wasn't being as careful as I could've been Jac: I was on the pill, I am, but I was sick so Jude: if it happened to you, it could definitely happen to me Jac: no, I wasn't being safe at all, I wasn't like me Jac: you wouldn't do that Jac: not like you shouldn't be careful yourself, of course, but I'm not trying to fear monger Jude: why? Jac: because I didn't feel well Jac: or like protecting myself from bad stuff Jac: but it was a wake-up call Jude: are you better now or what? Jac: I'm trying to be Jac: I wasn't trying at all back then Jac: but I am now, and part of that is reaching out, so you really can ask anything Jac: if you want to Jude: I don't think you should go if you're not Jac: I think University will be good for me Jac: I have stopped doing a lot of the things I was already, and I'm trying to do more things that I should again Jac: the fresh start, getting to do what I want to do, that's been keeping me going Jude: but it's really far away Jude: what if Jac: I don't want you to worry about me like that Jac: I'm not about living like that now Jac: if I had to stay here, I'm not saying I would go back, but leaving is a good thing Jude: you were though & you're not gonna have anyone to help you deal there, that's why you said it got bad before Jac: I still don't have friends here Jac: I have a better chance to make new ones when we're all new, you know Jac: but it was all the stuff that was too much that made it all happen Jude: it feels like a 🥉💡 Jac: Why? Jude: cos you said it was the only thing keeping you going so if it goes wrong Jac: but it's not going to go wrong Jac: you know academics have always been where I'm most comfortable Jude: yeah but Jac: I worked really hard for this, and I've always wanted it Jac: I can swap Universities, if I need to do that Jac: and I would, if things weren't working Jude: promise Jac: I promise Jac: I don't know how I'll reassure you on this, apart from getting there, and then checking in Jude: then do that Jac: I will Jude: okay Jac: I'm not going to go back there Jac: I want to be better, and that's half the battle, right Jude: true Jac: I have to get out of here Jac: you'll feel the same when your time comes too Jude: it's not bad for me here Jude: I get why you wanna leave & Jess has gotta for the ⭐dom but I'm all good Jac: you want to see the rest of the world too though Jac: not stay here forever Jude: I'm not gonna 👀 sod all from a lecture hall Jude: & a basic bitch gap year ain't no mood Jac: I'm gonna be in Edinburgh, a whole new city to explore and make home Jac: you have to go somewhere you wanna be Jac: and then you'll have good money to see enough of the world and not have to do it with pretentious gap year people slumming it in hostels Jude: I just don't know where I'd wanna be Jac: you still have time to figure that out Jude: but I won't have my pick like you Jude: not 🤓 enough Jac: you can still pick a city, lots of bigger places have lots of different Unis Jac: even if the Uni isn't like ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Jac: the place can be Jude: you're right, I've slummed it on loads of school trips & it's still been 🥇 Jac: and I'm not calling you stupid, you can get into wherever you wanna, with the work Jude: tah, don't be calling me thick 🤣 Jac: just so you can't call me out later, of course Jude: probs won't be going to Spain though I ain't getting any 🏆 in that class Jac: you usually get a year abroad if you want it Jac: still chance for some sun, sea and sand Jude: 😝 Jude: can't be tamed, the teacher'd be fuming to find out I'm in Barcelona loving the 🎨 Jac: you can fluff your first year Jac: get it out of your system 😏 Jude: yeah? Jude: I thought that was a rumour to 🎣 out dickheads Jac: I think if you totally tanked it, they might wanna get you gone Jac: but I don't know if they technically can Jude: watch me test it 😏 Jac: 🙄 Jac: 🤞 you change your mind in these interim years Jude: they'll be like oi you piss off & I'll be like nah mate!! 😜✌ Jac: 😂 Jac: good luck with that Jude: I've got this Jac: No doubt Jude: you can still have kids later if you want, can't you? Jac: It shouldn't have had any effect, like that Jac: I don't think losing a baby does, usually, unless it goes really badly and that didn't happen Jude: yeah, you're not Amelia's mum Jac: yeah, I'm clearly fertile Jac: so unless the karma is I'm not later Jude: thank god Jac: I don't know if I'll ever want to do it again Jude: idk if I want kids either but we might Jude: like ages from now Jac: yeah Jac: It was just a lot to go through Jude: did they knock you out to do it? Jude: that must've been scary Jac: I took the tablets Jac: did it at home Jude: here Jac: yeah Jude: shit Jac: I told Jess, so he stayed with me Jude: I'm glad Jude: he's the one I'd tell too Jac: Poor him Jude: I do tell him stuff, I'm sure he's gutted about it Jac: I just meant it's a bit rude of us to put it all on him Jac: I'm sure he isn't gutted Jude: yeah but he won't be around for it soon Jac: you can still talk to him Jude: nah, he'll be proper busy 🤠🎤🎵🎸 Jac: you can still blow his phone up Jac: he'll get back to you Jac: beside, you have friends too Jude: I can handle it, I've got mates, mum & dad & obvs me Jude: he's earned a break Jac: yeah Jac: no doubt he'll be grateful Jude: for sure Jac: 👍 Jude: I mean from me, not you Jac: no, I know what you mean Jac: I've put him through enough Jude: nah, I have Jude: you were really going through something Jac: Are you okay? Jude: yeah Jac: Good Jac: like you said, you can handle it Jac: not going to start demanding you tell me things Jude: it was just a weird time Jude: is Jac: yeah Jac: I know Jude: I didn't know what to do & like I always know about myself Jude: things ain't usually confusing Jac: I'm sorry Jac: for making shit harder for you, you didn't need that Jac: a lot of it was too painful to talk about Jac: like, I couldn't Jude: & you don't have to, not to make me feel better Jac: I wasn't intending to make you feel shit Jac: but I also didn't do anything to go out of my way to do the opposite either Jude: you made loads of people feel shit, I'm not special Jude: or probs even top 5 Jac: I did Jac: it was easier Jac: than questions and concern Jac: for me though Jac: not you lot Jude: you can't be selfless all the time Jude: everyone's a selfish dickhead when they're 💔 Jac: I didn't have to be quite so selfish Jac: that's a lie, I did feel like I had to at the time, or I wouldn't have done it Jac: but that doesn't excuse it as alright Jude: it wasn't alright Jude: but none of us are saying it is Jac: it means you get to react how you wanna now Jac: even if that ain't alright either Jude: bit late to 🥊 Jac: you could try it Jac: you needn't think I'm just gonna take it though Jude: I got my own room out of it, if I do a OTT 🚪 slam you'll get the point Jac: you get your own room regardless now Jude: & this time I can actually chuck your shit out without mum or dad having a go at me Jac: if you want Jude: it'll be gone soon as you have 👋 Jac: that's fine Jac: I have the things I need Jude: I won't ask you to help me start the wall mural as a bonding activity, you're alright Jac: would be counterproductive Jude: yeah you'd only fuck up my artistic vision Jac: naturally Jude: if Amelia weren't so in love with you she might've bothered to teach you how to 🖌🎨 instead of being convinced you were 10/10 as you were Jac: I'd hate to steal your thunder Jude: the competition'd be a right laugh Jude: I wouldn't mind it Jude: how you get better anyway Jac: It's one way Jac: I've always been peerless so I wouldn't know but Jude: 🙄😏 Jude: when Sav left, she gave you a 🏃 for your 💰 before that Jude: 🤓🥇🏆 Jac: True Jude: I wonder where she's going Jac: Bath, probably Jac: unless she changed her plans Jac: or got into Oxbridge Jude: that 1st bit don't sound like something she'd do Jude: maybe her Catholic school was top notch though Jac: I doubt her dad was going to risk sending to another shithole Jude: I don't get why he sent her away at all Jude: there's gonna be lads like that at parties a few hours from here just the same Jac: Yeah well, it was a convenient excuse for what he probably wanted to do anyhow Jac: and I doubt she was allowed to go to many parties after that, wherever she was Jude: he's a twat for not caring what Sav & Sienna want, I wouldn't let him tell me nowt Jac: you wouldn't have much choice Jude: 😬 Jac: clearly their mum didn't argue loads for them to stay so Jac: that's that Jude: yeah but he could've stayed closer & still had them live with him Jac: well there's no point pretending he isn't a twat, for the sake of this convo Jac: maybe he had a job offer, I don't know Jude: 🤷🏼 Jac: anyway Jude: ?? Jac: I don't know Jac: is there anything else you wanna know Jude: does it get any worse? Jac: no, that's the worst Jude: then you can tell me if there's anything else Jac: I mean, it wasn't so much what I was doing or did Jac: you know the rest, the drinking and partying and obviously the sex Jude: it was a bit hard to miss Jac: yeah Jac: it was what it was Jude: I don't blame you for wanting to go, you won't get a fresh start here after what all that was Jude: you were my sister before far as the 🗨 went now I'm yours Jac: well, I want to go anyway, always have Jac: I don't care what people think Jude: good job none of us are that bothered, with Jess blowing up an' all Jac: you can't be responsible for what people say about anyone but yourself Jude: I know Jude: dunno if the other two have their heads round that yet though Jac: well I'm sorry for what people might think or say about you because of me Jac: we're all going to have to make changes, because of Jess' lifestyle now Jude: there ain't no might about it, they do 💭 & 🗨 Jac: then I'm sorry Jude: don't bother being, it don't matter if you are & people have always 🗨 bollocks Jude: if it ain't you it's Jess or mum being a model, whatever else there is Jac: well I still am Jude: I can't change your 🧠 Jac: just because people talk, doesn't mean I have to give them more to talk about Jude: you won't be, you'll have pissed off to do your psychology degree, getting to just be you somewhere else Jude: like I'll get to just be me if I go far enough away too Jac: Yeah, that's generally why people do it Jude: even if Jess gets well famous in the next couple of years, still a common enough last name Jude: I should be able to do my own thing Jac: exactly Jac: private profiles, the whole deal, it's just what you'll have to do Jude: not gonna wish he fucks it, that'd be a bit rude Jac: Of course not Jac: it doesn't mean it won't be hard Jac: people already know you're related, you've been at gigs and stuff Jude: something else I can handle Jac: doesn't mean you can't feel a type of way about it Jude: it's what he wants to do Jac: Yeah Jac: but how do you feel about it? Jude: idk nowt's really happened yet Jude: it might get weird Jac: Yeah Jac: I get you Jude: I don't wanna be famous & especially not just for being his little sister Jac: yeah, I'd hate that as well Jac: people speculating 'round here is bad enough Jude: but maybe it'll help with my 🎨 Jude: not being a total unknown Jac: maybe Jac: but you wanna know you earnt recognition for your ability, not who you're related to Jude: all I know is if people start asking for 📷 I'm gonna have to look 11/10 every day Jac: 🙄😂 Jude: even for school! oh my god that'll be knackering Jude: I'll have to get up early Jude: tah for that, Jess Jac: people at school already have loads of embarrassing pictures Jac: at least you'll know where they've come from Jude: my mates won't do that, so yeah I'll know WHO they've come from Jac: you never know Jac: it changes people Jac: and not just the person it happens to Jude: what so I've gotta keep my 👀 on everyone? UGH Jac: I'm not trying to be dramatic Jac: but you hear about it Jac: people selling you out, for their own fame or 💶 Jude: you're not wrong, I'm just not chuffed to have to walk on 🥚 Jude: be a right laugh that will Jude: but whatever I ain't gonna whinge to you Jude: that'd be a bigger pisstake after everything you've just said Jac: can't say I blame you Jac: you can talk about whatever you want Jude: to loads of other people, not you Jac: if that's how you want it Jac: not because you think you can't Jude: it's how it is, you've got a lot on Jac: You can still talk to me Jac: regardless Jude: changing the habit of a lifetime of you telling me to NOT, that's like another fresh start Jude: so nah, not really Jac: that is what I'm trying to do Jude: & I'm here for you if you want but I don't need it from you Jude: like I don't need Jess to rush back from gigging how we said earlier Jac: Alright Jac: that's how we'll go forth then Jude: 👍 Jac: See you later then Jude: 👌✌

[hayleysstark]

Queenie, still trapped on Merlin/Galavant hell: imAGINE the character interactions?? Richard would try to be all buddy buddy with Arthur, while also gloating about having a real dragon and that his kingdom is better, and Arthur is Slowly Dying on the Inside. Merlin would taking a shining to Sid; he's kind-hearted, if a bit naive, sort of how Merlin was at the beginning, so Merlin resolves to PROTECT HIM AT ALL COSTS; Gareth would pester Gaius in his workshop, touching and breaking everything

“imagine all the character interactions” BOLD OF YOU TO ASSUME I EVER STOP IMAGINING ALL THE CHARACTER INTERACTIONS FGHJUYHJGFB ya girl emrys is OBSESSED with any and all Merlin/Galavant crossover concepts tbh. 

okay okay YES Richard would absolutely make himself a total nuisance on Arthur, I’m not knocking that at all, but may i present to you, Arthur and Galavant trying desperately to out-man each other at every turn. yeah, Arthur fought and killed a DRAGON the size of a CASTLE, but GALAVANT defeated a whole-ass army just by striding through the door and being so beautiful and amazing everybody put down their weapons and dropped to the floor without one (1) single goddamn fight, AND literally KICKED DEATH HIMSELF IN THE BALLS ????? ARTHUR CANNOT TOP THAT. ARTHUR LITERALLY CANNOT TOP THAT, BUT YOU KNOW HE WOULD TRY AND IT WOULD BE SO FUCKING HILARIOUS PLEASE TELL ME YOU SEE IT TOO.

Oh, man, Merlin would definitely hit it off with Sid, no question. snarky sense of humor AND a penchant for unnecessary melodrama????? birds of a feather. also you can’t tell me Merlin doesn’t accidentally sort of wind up as Richard’s friend just because he’s more patient with Richard than Arthur OR the knights. you just. you can’t convince me that doesn’t happen. and then Merlin is STUCK being friends with him and has literally zero idea how to extricate himself from this ABSOLUTE TRAINWRECK and it would be SO HILARIOUS oh my god.

ghnjhghgfrgbh BOLD OF YOU TO ASSUME GARETH WOULDN’T PESTER E V E R Y O N E lmao but he and Gaius WOULD have the BEST interactions, you CAN’T change my mind. not gonna lie, though, I think Gareth would naturally gravitate toward Percival first - big muscly guy, he just kinda blindly assumes Percival has his same passion for senseless violence, and then he sees Percival like. helping an injured bird or something and Gareth is like OH FUCK NO ABORT !!!!! ABORT !!!! SIR PERCIVAL IS A HUFFLEPUFF ABORT !!!! oh my god galaxy brain idea here imagine if he found out about Merlin’s magic and was SO PUMPED BECAUSE “THIS MAN CAN GIVE ME A R E A L FIGHT” AND POOR MERLIN IS LIKE ?????? WHY ??????? ARE WE ?????? FIGHTING ????? SHOULDN’T WE SAVE THIS FOR, YOU KNOW, MORGANA ???? OH MY GOD I’M DYING YOU KNOW THIS WOULD HAPPEN. YOU KNOW IT WOULD.

I think Roberta would actually get along the best with Gaius out of everybody, tbh! even if Roberta is a bit rough around the edges, she is the most sensible of the group, even over Isabella, I’d say, and Gaius would be grateful he finally has somebody with more than half a brain cell to talk to lmao. Roberta would probably also click with Gwen and Gwaine, though!! I think she and Sid would definitely win the most hearts out of everyone lol.

OH MAN Arthur would get so,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, RIDICULOUS about Roberta and Isabella’s mere EXISTENCE though he would just get. SO MAD lmao “WOMEN CAN’T BE WARRIORS” hjkjhyghgvb can you fucking imagine. he’d probably come ’round after one (or even both) of them saved his life at some point on their journey, but even right up to the end of S5, he clearly thinks women have no place in a fight. product of his time, i guess. aLSO he would fucking,,,,,,,,, get s o annoyed with Sid “it’s like having TWO Merlins and ONE is ALREADY too many” fghjhygthgfgb can u fucking imagine. because i can and it’s HILARIOUS. 

Thanks so much for stopping by, Queenie!! I love to hear everything you have to say!! 💖💖💖

[pi-cat000]

MSA time travel idea (part 18)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, Vivi POV, 8, 9, 10, Lewis POV, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, Lance POV

Part 19: here

Just breath! Why is that so hard? Arthur tries to block out Lewis’s looming form, the busy hotel room, and his regret at not being able to hold himself together for one day. There’s definitely going to be questions now! The patterns on the Persian rug running beneath him stretch out, elongating, tunnelling away. His chest is tight. Really tight.

“What’s going on?”

Vivi’s alarmed question draws his attention. She’s sitting up in bed, alert, partway to standing, both confused and startled. Mystery is jumping off the bed, coming towards him.

“I don’t know!” Lewis is responding, voice cracking in distress, “He flipped out when I touched him. I think it’s a panic attack.”

“What?!” Is Vivi’s high pitched response.

Lewis turns towards him, taking a small step closer, “Arthur? Are you okay?”

Too close!

“Stop,” Arthur snaps, holding out a hand and Lewis freezes again. The hand that’s not pointed at Lewis clutches at the shirt around his chest like it'll help loosen the knot cutting off his air. If everything could just stop for two seconds, then maybe he’d have a chance at pulling himself together.

Swiftly, he doesn’t even register her move, Vivi kneels before him. She’s an arm’s length away, in line with Lewis, hovering cautiously.

“Arthur?” She starts then hesitates. Arthur stares at Vivi, and he’s momentarily transported back to when it was just her, him and Mystery, scouring the country for a friend they’d probably never find. No Lewis. No motel room. Just them and long stretches of empty highway.

“You’re panicking, but, ah, you’re okay. This is going to pass all you need to do is breath. Uh," Vivi falters, unsure, “We’re in the hotel room near Oak Ridge remember.”

“Those nightmares you get? You always say this name, ugh, I can’t remember it now. But it always seems important. What was it?” Vivi would sometimes ask. Then he’d lie and say it was nothing.

“Lewis back up a bit. He needs more space,” Current, present Vivi, waves Lewis back a few steps. Mystery also retreats. His, Future-Vivi, was a whole lot better at the whole ‘comforting thing’ but the small comparison is settling his nerves. The air is back, he can finally breathe, and his vision is clearing.  With renewed clarity comes a sinking sense of worry. He’s only had two bad panic attacks in this time line-not including the ones he’s had since travelling back in time-, both of them occurred several years ago after hearing distressing news. Vivi was only there for one of them, but it freaked her out enough that she’s not going to just let this go. Not when it’s the most recent in a long line of odd behaviours.  

“What happened?” Vivi is asking Lewis. She inches forward enough to take Arthur’s outstretched hand, gently pushing it down while rubbing calming circles on his upper arm. The motel room descends into an uneasy quiet while Lewis thinks over his response.

“I don’t know,” Lewis sounds torn, almost frustrated, “I woke up and saw him by the door. I thought something was wrong, so I said his name and touched his shoulder.”

“It’s nothing. You just scared me,” Arthur’s voice cracks slightly, “It was just the shock. Wasn’t expecting it.”

Both Vivi and Lewis stare in disbelieving silence.

“That wasn’t nothing,” Surprisingly, Lewis is the first to call him out on his blatant lie, “that wasn’t just a small shock…you were terrified!”

“I’m fine,” Arthur grits his teeth, forcing himself to actuality meet Lewis’s gaze. It’s a mix of confused, hurt and frustrated.  

“No. You’re not fine,” Lewis snaps, “What part of that was fine. This is about more than being distracted by a new project or a fear of supernatural things, which you’ve never mentioned before this week.”

“It’s me, isn’t it? I’ve done something wrong. You’re mad at me.”

“No. I’m not. I…” He starts trying to deny the accusations them stops because his brain is still badly jumbled and not giving him anything to say in his defence. The opportunity to deny passes. His failure to respond is damning.

“You can barely stay in a room with me,” Lewis continues, sounding just about as devastated as Arthur now feels, “We haven’t had a proper conversation in almost two weeks. You’re my best friend!”

“Lewis,” Vivi stands abruptly, putting a hand on Lewis’s chest, “You need to back up and take a moment. We can talk about this later.”

“I’m not mad! That’s not it.” Arthur talks desperately over Vivi, struggling to his feet, still pressed back against the door. If he could sink into the wood, he would.

“You hate me!” Lewis is almost yelling, “What did I do wrong!?”

“No. I would never… I,” Arthur tries to dispute the claim, but Lewis takes a deliberate step forward, and Arthur flinches before he can stop himself. Lewis’s expression turns to one of absolute desolation like he’s just confirmed one of his worse fears.

“Lewis,” Vivi snaps, shoving Lewis. The taller man stumbles back, appearing stunned and a little guilty. Arthur opens his mouth continue arguing but Vivi holds out a hand, silencing him.

“No.” She declares, slightly strained, “We’re all going to take deep breaths, stop throwing around accusations,” A frown at Lewis, “and have a calm discussion.”

Silence follows her order. Arthur shuffles uncomfortably and Lewis roles his shoulders, stepping away and letting out a deliberately long exhale. Vivi sighs and lowers her arms, turning to Arthur.

“Arthur…I…are you okay?” She sounds confused, and Arthur feels increasing levels terrible.

“Yeah, …sort of,” He hesitates, lifts his left hand and runs it through his hair in agitation, adding, “not really?”

She nodes, “What do you need?”

“I just need…” to time travel back to half an hour ago and fix all of this, “a few seconds of fresh air. Alone.” He needs time to think and process. He can’t do that with Lewis right there, believing Arthur hated him.

“A swear I’ll answer any questions after. I just need a few seconds.” His hand grasps for the door handle and the brief relief it offered. Vivi watches like she wants to ask more questions, reaching and making an aborted attempt at taking his hand in a show of comfort.

“Okay. Take your time…but, Arthur, please, this isn’t…. I’m really worried. We both care about you, we realy do,” A long pause. Vivi’s upset. He’s upset Vivi. Arthur just nods curtly, reversing out the door. The last thing he sees is Vivi turning back to slumped Lewis, hands on her hips like she’s about to deliver a lecture.

Outside, Arthur takes a shaky breath, studying the two additional cars in the motel lot with vacant eyes. The sun has risen higher in the sky but its warmth is a false comfort. What the hell is he supposed to do now? What can he possibly say to explain this?

Lewis thinks Arthur hates him. How does he tell this Lewis that it isn’t him he has a problem with but his future dead counterpart who’d decided to violently murder him? How is that better? Both of Arthur’s hands are now gripping at strands of hair, pulling in agitation. Would they even believe him is he did? Lewis had seemed so hurt, so sure of his conclusion. What would he think of Arthur if he came in with a story about time travel, ghosts, giant foxes and mysterious caves? It was entirely unbelievable.

Maybe, if Mystery backed him up… 

Arthur rubs his eyes with a shaky hand. If he told them the truth, and they believed him, then they’d know that Lewis had died. That the reason he’s been avoiding Lewis was because the other man had killed him. Why did you do it Lewis?

Arthur still doesn’t know why. No one knew, or would ever know, why. He’s scared, terrified that that information, information about a future which never happened, would drag everyone down into his misery.  

Vibrations from the phone in his pant pocket catch attention, offering a welcome distraction from his turbulent thoughts. Arthur reaches to answer it. It’s Darrel, his uncle’s workshop assistant, and Arthur frowns at the user ID. They weren’t practically close, and he can’t think of a good reason for him to be calling. He notes that he’s also missed three other calls, two more from Darrel and one from an unknown number.

Arthur hits accept, greeting in a tired voice, “Hey Darrel. What’s up.”

“Arthur! Finally. I thought you might be out of range. Thank god you aren’t. I’ve got some bad news for you dude so you might want to sit down.”

“Bad news?” Arthur’s stomach sinks.

Darrel continues, stressed and frazzled, “It’s Lance, man. He was attacked! I found him this morning, the police were here and everything. He’s on his way to St Peter’s Hospital in an ambulance. Dude, I know you’re on a road trip, but you might want to come back cause he was pretty bad…”

“Wait. Wait.” Arthur interrupts Darrel’s panicky sentences, “Attacked? What do you mean he’s on his way to the hospital?”

“I don’t know what to tell you, man. He’s in bad shape. I arrived at work, on time like always, and he was bleeding out all over the floor. Of course, I called an ambulance straight away, who wouldn’t, but I don’t know dude it looked really serious…”

Darrel’s rambling washes over him, sounding from further and further away until the other’s voice is muffled in the distance. This isn’t right. This hadn’t happened in his original timeline. Did he do this? Arthur’s thoughts spin like a pinwheel, searching in vain for a connection. Beside him, the door, separating him from Lewis and Vivi, looms. His gaze slides over its wooden surface. Vivi and Lewis are waiting. They’re waiting for the truth.

“Arthur,”

The sound of his name snaps his focus back to Darrel.  

“Ye...Yeah?”

“You okay there man, you went quiet for a second,”

“Yeah. I’m…I’m fine. This is fine,” Arthur moves towards his van, hesitating to look at the motel room again.

Darrel is quiet, “If you say so. Look, I’ll be turning off the highway soon, so I’m going to have to hang up, but I’ll give you a call as soon as I know more.”

“Thanks, yeah, that sounds good.” Arthur reaches the van, “I’ll start driving back now so I should be there in about eight hours.”

“Sure dude. Let me know when you're close. Okay?”

“I will. See you soon…” Arthur mutters.

The phone goes dead, and Arthur stares at its darkened screen. His other hand rests on the van door, frozen in indecision. He can’t just leave Lewis and Vivi here. Not without telling them something. Arthur turns stiffly, eye’s moving past the motel rooms to land on the box-shaped reception block. Unsteadily, he hurries over, getting blasted with chilled air-conditioning when he opens the sliding door.

He is greeted by the same disinterested women from the previous night. She’s reading and doesn’t acknowledge his entrance.

“Um, excuse me,”

“What do you want?” The board woman responds without looking up.

“Can I borrow a pen and paper,” He points distractedly at the stack on the edge of her desk.

“Whatever.”

Arthur quickly pens a message, hoping Vivi and Lewis don’t hate him for doing this.

“Ah,” He glances at the woman, “are there any buses which stop in this town?”

“The Interstate Line stops here and in most towns between here and the border. They come through early, 6am, every day.”

“Thanks,” Arthur mumbles. Vivi and Lewis would have a way to get home then. They would just have to wait until tomorrow.

He hesitates again before leaving, “If the people in room 11 come to check out can you give them this message?”

Finally, the lady looks up, squinting at the piece of paper, levelling an annoyed glare at Arthur, “Leave it there. If they come in, I’ll tell’em you wrote it,”

Arthur waverers in guilty indecision, carefully folding the paper and placing it at the edge of the desk. The woman returns to reading. One final second of guilt and Arthur hurries out of the reception and back to his van.

This isn’t running away…he’ll tell them the truth once he knows his Uncle is okay. Maybe, they’ll hate him, but they’re sure to be better off without him around anyway so perhaps it doesn’t matter.

He’s back on the highway, heading in the direction of home before he can think to change his mind.

Note: Arthur digs himself a hole of bad decisions. Vivi and Lewis worry.

Part 19: here 

[howwelldoyouknowyourmoon]

Why I Am Not A Unificationist

I’ve been a Unificationist since childhood. From then, until I was around 19, I had to eat all of the sadomasochism fed by Rev. Moon. My new Father. My new Messiah. I’ll take some time to go through them, but please be patient. I had been told that God was some sort of compulsive crybaby whose universe was forever torn asunder because two naked teenagers had pre-maritial sex in a garden. A step up from the apple and snake, I admit, but the Garden of Eden is still a myth no matter how you spin it.

Anyways, I was also told that human history was a convenient series of failures on behalf of the human race to understand the infinite sorrows of God. The Church painted said God, interestingly enough, as quite impotent. He was a servant to some pseudo-scientific law, called the Divine Principle: a lugubrious, confusing, absurd, and comical attempt to plaster Moon’s idiotic theology onto human history. Neon Genesis Evangelion’s myths made more sense.

I’m not quite sure if the Divine Principle was supposed to be a moral law or not, but I certainly was given that impression. I would be horrified and disgusted if the Principle was by any stretch of the imagination considered moral. This so-called morality dictated that again, because two naked teenagers had pre-marital sex in a garden, the Biblical wars against various tribes, the Crucifixion of Jesus, the Fall of Rome, both World Wars, the Holocaust, the Korean War, and numerous other tragedies, in the Bible and in history, were ordained by the Divine Principle to occur as payment for indemnity, or global karma. The Principle has weird ideas on proportionality. I don’t think that even Zeus, at the height of his maliciousness, would have approved of such a doctrine, so it would be doubly discouraging if a loving and compassionate God did. 

Why then does Moon praise the Principle with such fervor? Even it was true, it should have been condemned and resisted, even if the effort was futile. Of course, there’s always the idea that the Principle is brutally objective, but then, I don’t recall Newton’s Three Laws of Motion or the Pythagorean Theorem bluntly putting persons into sides of God or Satan.

Again, I swallowed this nonsense in my elementary years – I didn’t know any better. I think that I was still watching Power Rangers. So all of this made me very terrified of sex. Moon had a cute obsession with sex. If you don’t believe me, just look up the instructions for the 3-day ceremony. It’s quite revealing. He also said that if a pretty woman attempts to touch your penis, you should kick her 1,000 miles and God will praise you for it, but I’ll touch on his sexism later.

He just could not stop going on about the sexual organs and how they were at the center of the universe, or something like that. Easy enough to pledge abstinence when you’re young, but after puberty, I felt like I was walking in a nightmare. No sex until after I married, and Lord knew when that was going to happen. No choking the chicken, either, but when I did get the occasional slip of the wrist, so-to-speak, my whole being filled with guilt, as if I had committed a crime against God and joined the ranks of Satan.

I realize that abstinence is quite common among many Christians and even Muslims in this country, but at least they are allowed to date! Yes, because God certainly doesn’t want His Children engaging in the evil of DATING. Okay, so women were off limits until I married. At least I got to choose my wife. Oh, what’s that? My wife could be chosen for me? We might barely know each other before getting married? She might not even speak English? There could be a waiting period before having SEX? You know, there’s a word for people who have a peculiar interest in other people’s sex lives, they’re called perverts, and Rev Moon was certainly among them. Lord knows the countless unintentional pregnancies, STI infections, and abortions his teachings may have prevented had he taught instead about the options of masturbation and birth control.

Speaking of sexuality, Rev Moon was diseased with homophobia. I am sorry to say that I caught this disease as well. Moon referred to homosexuals once as dung-eating dogs and homosexuality as an activity that attracts Satan. He also said that those who love dung eating dogs, ergo people who support gay rights, will produce that quality of life. I’ve heard some homophobic statements from Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson, but Moon’s hate speech sounds like something you’d hear from Neo-Nazis. Yeah, I went there, but Moon’s words were straight up dehumanizing and condemnable. NO group of people deserve to be described in that fashion. Also, Moon himself said that Hitler and Stalin were reborn as new beings, and they declared him the messiah. So he seems to think quite a bit of their opinions.

In any case, many religions still have trouble with treating homosexuals as equals, and that’s a shame. I repeat, a shame. Moon could have learned a thing from Desmond Tutu. Even the 14th Dalai Lama supports gay marriage and Pope Francis, who does not like homosexuality, says that the Church has no right to interfere with the spiritual lives of gays and that he has no authority to judge gay Catholics. I grew out of homophobia after I grew out of Moon.

Then there’s this whole damned idea of Rev Moon being the Messiah. Hell, anyone can claim that. Just ask Father Divine, Marshall Applewhite, Elijah Muhammad, Jim Jones, or L. Ron Hubbard. We all know the story. Jesus asked Moon to take up the cross and suffer for humanity as the first True Parent. The whole idea being that Jesus was supposed to get married as opposed to being crucified. Now I wouldn’t force crucifixion on my worst enemy, but marriage on the other hand, should be a choice, not a requirement for joining heaven, as Moon teaches. I think that most people are comfortable with the parents that they already have, and don’t need fanatical ones from Korea.

What makes Moon so special that he should be the Messiah, anyways? It’s his word against mine. Surely, Jesus didn’t expect Moon to convince people on word alone. Except that he apparently did. To be honest, I believed that Moon was the Messiah out of pity. He does deserve some. His home country was torn apart before his eyes, and he had to suffer atrocious accommodations in a North Korean prison camp. No one should have to go through that. The pressure was all around me to convert. Certainly I wouldn’t turn against a man who suffered so much. Before I knew it, I was bowing before photographs and reading books I could hardly understand at six in the morning. For those who want a better idea of what I am talking about, check out the film, “Ticket To Heaven.” Moon, however, had a habit of romanticizing Korea as the center of the world. I don’t hate Korea. It’s a fine nation, but not a holy one. Since Moon cast North Korea as Satan and South Korea as God, he probably forgot to mention that “God’s” nation had brutal dictators like Park Chung-hee.

I could also go on about how, in face of separation of church and state, Moon crowned himself like a king in the Dirksen Senate Office Building, how he implored Americans to forgive Nixon who sabotaged the Vietnam Peace Talks in 1968, how he founded the Washington Times which spews climate change denial, and how he had at least one affair while dictating other people’s sex lives, but I think I’ve made my point. Moon is no more of a messiah than my dead goldfish. If you still want a Korean to admire, try Kim Dae-Jung.

In closing, you may wonder what exactly liberated me from my slave-masters? It was a woman named Nansook Hong, whose book I would implore all of you to read. She married Moon’s first son, Hyo Jin, and suffered unspeakable abuse, both mental and physical. When Moon was told of these things, he blamed her for not being a good wife. This is the sexism I was referring to earlier. Moon was more concerned about his magnanimous legacy than about the domestic abuse of his daughter-in-law. As I read her testimony and followed her journey, I found myself going through a similar one. By the last page, I left the church and freed myself from the depressing theology of Rev Moon. I live a happy life now. I’m not very religious, but I don’t hate religion. 

Moon didn’t learn a lot from religion. Many Jewish scholars see the Old Testament stories as metaphors to learn from, not literal historical events representing the Cain and Abel dichotomy. If Moon really understood Jesus, he would have lived more like Gandhi, Tolstoy, or even Shaliene Woodley, as opposed to Donald Trump or John D. Rockefeller. The Qur’an opposes collective punishment for crimes done by others and would be disgusted with ideas like indemnity. While both Buddhism and Hinduism see atheism or agnosticism as acceptable spiritual paths, Buddhism more so. Moon denounced godlessness as Satanic.

I would like to thank HWDYKYM for giving me a healthy space to express these thoughts. As you can see by the length of this, they’ve been bubbling beneath the surface for some time now. I know that I may not have not have gotten everything right as far as Moon’s doctrine is concerned. I simply speak from my own experience – what I was taught, what I had believed. I hold no ill will towards current members, by the way. Many of them are still beloved members of my friends and family, just don’t expect me to go to workshops.

Sun Myung Moon’s theology used to control members

Divine Principle – Parallels of History

Sun Myung Moon  – Restoration through Incest

Moon’s Theology of the Fall, Tamar, Jesus and Mary

Nansook Hong, transcripts of three interviews

Nansook Hong In The Shadow Of The Moons, part 1