#so . good job finding a way to fuck it up as always U.S. government!!

[pixelkip]

i dont think im the first but oh well.

[livwritesstuff]

Absolutely obsessed with your steddie dad’s verse!!! Everything about it is just so good, thanks for sharing!

I love Moe, Robbie and Hazel, and I can’t get this idea out of my head that probably doesn’t fit the vision of this verse at ALL but hear me out. What if one day all the upside down stuff became public knowledge? Somehow documents get leaked, someone talks, idk. And it’s suddenly all over the news. Would be so interesting to see how Steve and Eddie would react to this and how they’d talk to their kids (who just found out about their parents saving the world from the news) about it 👀

So here’s the thing:

Realistically, I don’t think the story would ever get fully leaked, for two reasons (probably more, actually, but two primary reasons).

It makes the U.S. government look terrible, and they do a good enough job of that publically to afford any more hits to their rep so they keep that shit on lock

Nobody would believe it. Maybe there are whispers about the truth of what happened to Hawkins, Indiana in the 80s, but the second the words “monsters” and “superpowers” get thrown in there, nobody buys it. That’s why the cover stories work.

What I absolutely think would happen is ✨conspiracy theories✨

Like, come 2014 there’s a rising interest in true crime and conspiracy theories and some enthusiasts stumble upon the story. A few devoted folks pull a Murray and start building a timeline and they quickly realize that there are some pretty serious holes in the narrative. It kind of takes off from there.

Robbie is Eddie’s daughter through and through, so she’s totally into that kind of stuff. Steve and Eddie have always been relatively upfront about what happened to them in Hawkins (relatively, in that they have the “here’s what you’ll find if you google your dads” conversation with an extensive Q+A, but to avoid dumping trauma on their kids they stay light on the details), so she’s more intrigued than surprised when not only is she suggested a YouTube video about her dads’ hometown, but the video also mentions both of them by name.

Here’s the problem – like most conspiracy theories, it's true that some pretty damning evidence has been uncovered that the government probably didn’t want circulating. However the story is still missing key details in a way that makes the resounding conclusion this close to the truth, but not quite there.

Hence, this conversation Robbie has with her dads after she watches the video:

“So is it true that Uncle Will was abducted by aliens?”

Steve’s eyebrows fly up.

“Are people saying it’s aliens? It wasn’t aliens.”

“Was he though?”

“Uh…kind of. I guess.”

“Is it true the government put a fake body in the lake and pretended it was him and then when Will came back they had to pretend it was another kid?”

“Yep.”

“That’s fucked up. Is it true that Russia used a mall in Hawkins to build a secret lab?” Robbie asks.

“Yes.”

“Is it true they were doing research on the aliens and then one of them escaped and that’s why the mall got destroyed.”

“Not even close.”

“How did the mall get destroyed then?”

“Bunch of people got possessed by a shadow monster and he made them eat chemicals until they exploded and reformed as this giant mass thing that cornered us in the mall. We attacked it with fireworks. I wasn’t there for most of that, though. Just the end.”

“Whatever,” Robbie rolls her eyes, fully convinced that her dad is bullshitting her, “Is it true the Hawkins earthquakes were actually the aliens invading.”

“No – yes…kind of? Not earthquakes. Not aliens.”

“I mean…technically they kind of were aliens ,” Eddie jumps in, “Technically anything from a land foreign to yours is an alien.”

“They weren’t aliens,” Steve insists, “They were monsters. They were big and gray and their faces opened up and they had all these rows of teeth like sharks.”

“Sounds like an alien to me,” Robbie replies.

“Monsters.”

“Is it true Dad was attacked by them and he almost died and you saved him, Pop?”

“Yes, indeed,” Eddie says proudly before Steve can respond, “He’s quite the hero, don’t you think?”

“In space?”

“Nope. In an evil alternate dimension, and he dragged me all the way out through the portal and everything.”

Robbie rolls her eyes again, “Nevermind, you guys are useless. You’d think you weren’t even there.”

Steve sighs, “God, I wish that were true.”

In terms of how Steve and Eddie respond to the story gaining some attention from the general public, they do family viewings of the conspiracy videos made about the situation and make fun of the incorrect narratives. Their daughters fully do not grasp that their dads are telling the truth because, again, the truth does not seem real.

[weasleywinchester]

Save Yourself - Chapter 15

You Should be Safe with Someone Else

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 16

Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Yo fam! We back with another chapter, and we're quickly circling back to chapter one! Can't believe I'm almost done with this series! (don't worry, there's still about 10 chapter to go!) Anyways, this chapter is a bit of a tipping point, we're going to start speeding to heartbreak city pretty soon.

Warnings: Guns, Mr. Ketch, mentions of death

Series Summary:

“I promise.” Those two words would trap you in a life you never wanted. You are an artist, a hunter, a Winchester. And yet the pain in Dean’s eyes as demanded you live the life he wants you live, you couldn’t say no. You met the Winchesters by chance, found out they were real people. And you figured it was a once in a life time thing, but then Dean called you, and so did a new job. Both leading to the life you wanted, a family that didn’t begin or end in blood and a once in a life time love. And he said leave it and him behind, forget. But you can’t.

Chapter Summary:

You finally got your world turned right side up: you and Dean were in a better spot, the memory wipe trauma finally went away and you now did a little more hunting as you and the boys tried to get one step ahead of the Devil. But Lucifer likes to throw a wrench into any situation and this time there were two: he is now in the body of the U.S. president and he's having a baby. Luckily Sam's kept in touch with the Men of Letters and they had a few toys to give the devil the boot... except that didn't work out like they planned.

“THEY WHAT?” You roar from the kitchen. Mary winces at the sound of pans clashing to the floor. She already had this conversation with Castiel, and no way was she going to tell you what happened.

“They didn’t have much of a choice, we were surrounded.” Cas sighs, backing into the library, his hands up in defense. You come through a few moments later, knife in hand.

“He’s telling the truth.” Mary says, cautiously walking toward you.

Damn Winchesters, couldn’t space it out longer than a week. You grunt in frustration, stabbing the knife into the table and walking back to the kitchen. Cas shares a worried look with Mary, who simply shrugs and yanks the knife out of the table.

“Ok. How are we getting them back?” You ask over your shoulder as you wash your hands. After a few moments of absolute silence, you turn to the pair. “Cas, how are we getting them back?” There’s always a plan, it may be a Winchester plan, but a plan nonetheless.

His shoulders slump, he’s not sure where to start; he can’t track them because of the warding and he’s not sure where the government would take them. He finally looks at you, and you give him the same eyeroll Dean usually gives.

“Would Kelly know?” You sigh, leaning against the kitchen island. Cas winces at your question. Well, that’s not good. “Castiel, Where’s Kelly?”

“She, ugh, snuck out.” Cas admits, finding the floor much more interesting than you expression.

“Fuck me.” You breathe out, clamping your eyes shut while you rub your temples. It’d be one thing if she was Lucifer’s main target, but that baby…

“We’ll find them.” Mary reassures both of you. “But for now, we have big shoes to fill.” As much as Dean doesn’t want you hunting alone, there’s not a whole lot of people to keep the monsters at bay.

“You two take care of any local cases and get in contact with Garth, you’ll need his help managing the other hunters. Don’t mention anything about the boys not being around, no need to put everyone on edge.”

“What will you do?” Cas asks, lacing his fingers through yours.

“I have a deal to make.” You sigh, giving his hand a squeeze.

______

“Quite surprised to hear from you Ms. (Y/L/N).” Mick gives a stiff smile as he lets you into his office.

“Mrs. Winchester.” You correct him.

“Of course.” He nods for you to sit across from him.

“And if there were any other viable option I wouldn’t be here.” You give him a stiff smile.

“How kind of you to think of us.” Mr. Ketch remarks, managing to keep his eye roll to himself.

“Play nice Mr. Ketch.” Mick kindly warns before handing you a cup of tea. “What exactly can we do for you?”

You take a deep breath in and slowly let it out. Dean’s gunna kill me.

“I need to know when someone tries to kill the president, where does the government take them?” No point in beating around the bush.

Both stare at you, mouths wide open.

“If you don’t know…” you start to stand. Knew this was a mistake.

“Site 94.” Ketch blurts. You’re taken aback by the answer, you figured if Ketch knew anything he wouldn’t offer it to you. You glance at Mick, who is just as shocked. “That would be my assumption, as it’s one of those places that technically doesn’t exist.”

“Can you get me in?” You sit back in your chair.

“Who could you possibly need to talk to in there? I highly doubt you know anyone dangerous enough.” Ketch questions, leaning forward onto his knees.

“Sam and Dean.” You sigh.

Ketch’s frown turns into a look of disbelief.

“Why would they-”

“The President was possessed. That’s why they needed your help in the first place.” You offer. They share a glance and relax back into their chairs.

“Then you’re aware we lent them items as a gesture of good faith. And that faith hasn’t proven to be useful so far. So, what are you offering in exchange?” Mick asks, crossing his legs.

“She has nothing to offer.” Ketch scoffs.

“I’m a Winchester.” You gesture to yourself.

“And?”

“If you convince the Winchesters," you motion to yourself again, " to team up with you, the rest of the hunters will follow. You can flash your fancy toys all you want, and give as many gestures of good faith as Chuck himself but convincing Dean will take a lot more than that. You get me in… and I’ll help you with Dean. And the rest of the American Hunters.”

Ketch leans forward, prepared to argue but Mick holds a hand up to stop him. He considers how easily and quickly that would establish the men of letters in America.

“And you can guarantee they can be convinced?” Mick counters.

“If you get me to them before they do something the Winchester way.”

“Hardly seems like a fair trade. We’ll be doing a lot of string pulling and favor asking.” Ketch sneers.

“How many American hunters have joined the Men of Letters at this point in time?” You smile. Mick sighs, sharing a look with Ketch.

“Let’s get started then.” He sticks his hand out to you. You nod and take it.

________

Two months later

“Ms. Hudson,” Sanchez barks as he walks past your desk, “Follow me.”

You jump to your feet, quickly catching up to him. He hands you a tablet that has a diagram of the next room displayed.

“I need you to take notes as we walk.” He continues, tapping the first room on the diagram and displaying older notes. You quickly skim each one as you wait for him to open the door and, unfortunately, you can’t decipher any of the code words.

“Ms. Hudson, I expect your utmost discretion with any information you hear beyond this door.” He gives you a pointed look, to which you give him the same curt nod that has gotten you this far.

“This is where we part ways. If I take you any further all the advertising of your skills we’ve done for the last two months will be null.” Ketch turns to you, eyeing the military personnel that are patrolling the base; he hands you a slim briefcase and a standard issue handgun. “Men of Letters files about your new place of work, files on Mr. Sanchez and Mr. Camp. We’ve gathered that they will be dealing with the Winchesters. The gun is for obvious reasons and there are various types of bullets that will kill more than just humans. And remember, no questions, no friendly conversation and-”

“Don’t even think about the word Winchester.” You finish. Ketch nods, satisfied with your answer.

You quietly follow behind Sanchez as he stops at each door, telling you a jumble of code words. You try to peek inside at each cell, most of the time there’s a pair of eyes glaring through the peephole. You come to one of the last rooms and you’re surprised no one is staring back at you. You glance at Sanchez, who’s fists are balled tight and his jaw clenched.

And then you hear the sound of an electric razor. You can’t fight the smile that appears on your face. Sanchez rattles off three codewords and slams the peephole shut. He quickly walks you back to your desk, asking for his notes within the hour.

“How does someone as nice as you end up in this line of work?” The security guard, who’s name is Drew, asks.

“Who said I was nice?” You smile back.

“You look like a nice person is what I think he’s getting at. Although I have seen you take on a few intruders, it was very impressive.” Camp comments.

“Mmm. Maybe that’s what I want you to feel. Like a cute little tropical fish. Nice and harmless on the outside, but just a small drop of venom,” you hold your fingers up so they almost look like they’re touching, “and you’re dead within the hour.”

“You ever seen anything like the monsters we keep here?” Camp retorts. He and Sanchez have bought your act of stoic and deadly so far, but Camp has been trying to peel back the layers.

“I’ve seen every kind of monster there is Mr. Camp. Trust me when I say I’ve dealt with the Devil himself.” You smirk. Before he can respond, a group of security guards go running by.

“What happened?” You ask after them. They don’t answer and the three of you share a look. You can hear Sanchez bark through the door and Camp leaps to his feet and disappears down the hall. After about ten minutes you hear murmurs that two of the prisoners are dead.

Please don't let it-

“You two, let’s move!” Sanchez commands as everyone else gears up and runs out the door.

“What’s going on?” You demand, slipping on boots and a jacket.

“Winchesters-have escaped.” He slips, immediate regret plastered on his face. He shakes his head and turns to the rest of the crew. “All right! We got two runners with about a 45-minute head start. These are killers. So you get eyes, you pull the trigger. Let's move out.” he shouts, gesturing for you to come with him. “You know how to shoot one of these?” He hands you a gun and you nod. “Good.”

_______

“We think Sam and Dean were being held somewhere in the Rocky Mountain National Forest.” Mary states. She’s not super happy about working with the Men of Letters, but Cas thought of it as the only option they had left. She tried calling you, but whatever you were up to, you only answered twice a week at most.

“Site 94.” Ketch confirms, Mick nodding in agreement. Mary and Castiel raise their brows at his quick answer, which he finds a bit odd. You must have found it, and the two Winchesters, if you’re calling for a ride. “It's a government facility, off-books. Shadow ops. One of those places that officially doesn't exist.”

“Then how do you know about it?” Mary fires back.

“We gather information. It's our job. Although in this instance I’m surprised you don’t know this information already.” Mick explains, giving her a reassuring smile.

“They told us to meet them off State Route 34.” Cas adds.

“Well, that's a long stretch of road. Where, exactly?

“I'm not sure.” Cas sighs. Ketch and Mick share a look, silently communicating a plan.

“I'll have our techs to put a satellite over the area.” Ketch nods, immediately texting his people.

“You can do that?” Mary asks, that can’t be a thing.

“And so much more.” Mick winks as he goes back to his car.

“Do you have any idea what sort of trouble we're walking into?” Ketch asks Cas. Since their end of the bargain is done, you must have given all the information they need for a clean extraction.

“No.”

“Oh, good. I do like a surprise. I assume (Y/N) had no trouble getting them out?” Ketch inquires. You may have been a thorn in his side for two months but he was glad to see you could hold your own. You at least have the beginnings of a good Woman of Letters.

“(Y/N)?” Cas’s frown deepens.

“Wasn’t she the one who called?”

“No, Dean did.” Cas stands nose to nose with Ketch. “Why would (Y/N) be with Sam and Dean at site 94?”

“She asked for help, we gave it.” He states. Cas balls his fists, ready to put both of them through Ketch’s smug face. If you’re hurt…

“Cas.” Mary calls from the car. His shoulders relax a fraction and he gives one last pointed look before walking away from Ketch.

_______

You’ve managed to keep up with Sanchez and his men as they tracked the boys deep into the forest. Daylight quickly ran out, the darkness amplifying your nerves. The group found a cabin in the search with a lantern lit in the window, a perfect hideout for the night. As the group of soldiers descended upon a cabin you hung back in the tree line. Gunshots rang through the night, soldiers crying out in pain as whatever trap the boys laid took down each soldier.

In the dim glow of the lantern you see a large figure run out of the back of the cabin. You quickly moved toward it, trying to make as much noise as possible. He puts his gun up to your chest as you over dramatically dropped yours to the floor.

“On the ground.” He booms.

“Sammy, I’m not laying on the cold, wet dirt.” You loudly whisper back.

“(Y/N)?” He steps closer so he can see your face. He looks a bit thin, and sleep seems to have still eluded him.

“Where’s Dean?”

“Hey.” You hear Dean shout, followed by a yelp of pain. You walk towards it, seeing Sanchez on the ground.

“I told you. You're trapped.” Dean smirks.

“Hudson. Shoot him!” Sanchez shouts, as he sees you walk up.

“Oh, it would be my pleasure.”

Dean cocks his head to the side. There’s no way… He slowly turns around as you step forward to put the barrel of your gun to his chest.

“Camp! Shoot him!” Sanchez yells as he waits for Dean to overpower you. Sam quickly stops him, taking his gun and forcing him onto the ground next to Sanchez.

“Do it.” Dean taunts, pushing his chest flush against your gun.

“If I did, I wouldn’t get to do this.” You hand the gun to Sam and wrap your arms around Dean. His mouth quickly finds yours as he dips you into a kiss.

“What the fuck?” Sanchez asks, his world slowly tipping upside down. You’re the sweet little secretary, you’re smart and organized and definitely not capable of being in love with a psychopath.

You laugh against Dean’s lips before pulling away to look over at him.

“It pays to look harmless.” You wink.

_______

“Sam! Dean!” Mary yells as the boys come into view.

“(Y/N).” Cas immediately wraps you in a hug. You wrap your arms around him, feeling his powers heal the blisters on your feet and a few cuts you managed to get. He releases you, his hand caressing your cheek as he turns to “Dean.”

“Hey buddy.” Dean claps Cas on the back. “Did you know she was coming for us?” He whispers.

“No.”

Dean gives a low grumble, looking over at mom wrapping you in a hug.

“I’m sorry I didn’t watch her closely.” Cas whispers to him. Dean shakes his head, it’s not Cas’s fault. You’d be safer with… well, anyone besides the four of them.

"Ready good lookin?" You shout as Mary and Sam start walking toward the highway.

Dean walks over, lacing his fingers through yours and holding you in place until everyone else gets a few yards ahead.

"You put yourself on the line." He mumbles. The last thing he wants to do is pick a fight, but you can't keep stepping in the line of fire.

"It comes with the territory." You shoot back.

"Baby, you're not safe-"

"Dean. Can we just... can this wait until we get home?" you sigh, stopping just before the highway. He stares at you, his eyes memorizing how beautiful you are. He nods, hoping these final moments won't leave you with regret.

_______

"So wait, you're hunting?" Dean asks his mom. The car ride to his impending death feels familiar and very final this time; he does relax a bit knowing you can pick yourself up after it. And this time you'll have Sam and mom, and they'll convince you to move home, return to normal life and then you'll be safe.

"A little bit." Mary sheepishly admits. She looks at her son in the rearview, smiling at the fact you made your way into his lap. You're snuggled into his chest, your hand toying with his.

"Yeah, I knew you couldn't stay away." Sam smiles at her.

The radio clicks on, the channels blurring together until nothing but static can be heard. The car sputters, slowing to a stop.

"It's time." Sam whispers to Dean

"Time for what?" You ask, your heart dropping at Cas's expression.

"I love you sweetheart." Dean whispers into your hair, bringing your hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to it. The five of you pile out of the car and Dean sweeps you into a kiss. The way he as you cradled in his arms, the way his mouth is pressing against yours... it feels like a goodbye.

"What's happening?" Mary asks.

"Yeah, Dean." A sultry voice asks; the five of you turn to see her. "'Sup?" her smile widens like a cat who cornered the mouse.

"Billie?" Mary asks, taking a few steps toward her.

"The reaper?" Cas frowns as he turns towards Sam and Dean.

"I don't understand." You and Mary say in unison. Except, deep in your gut, you do. You wrap on arm around Dean, you body slowly becoming more numb as you realize how close you are to falling back into the darkness.

"Mom...that place..." Dean's begins, his voice trembling, "There's only one way we were getting out of there, and that wasn't breathing. So I made a call. "

"Dean talked with her, " Sam continues, "and then Billie came to see me. And we made a deal. We'd get to die and come back one more time, but in exchange..."

"Come midnight, a Winchester goes bye-bye. Like, permanently. And that is something I've been looking forward to for a long time." Billie grins.

"Why would you --" Mary tries to grasp at any understanding why her boys would sacrifice themselves when they have so much to live for.

"We were already dead." Dean cuts her off. "Being locked in that cell with nothing... I've been to Hell. This was worse." He gently unwraps himself for you but keeps your hand firmly in his.

"At least this way, one of us gets to keep fighting. " Sam adds, catching your gaze. You know Dean's first choice would be himself, but you can see Sam has decided it would be him.

"You don't have to do this." Cas growls.

"Yeah, they do. We made a pact. Bound in blood. You break that, there's consequences on a cosmic scale. So who's it gonna be?" Billie looks between Sam and Dean. You grip onto Dean a little harder and reach for Sam's hand, pulling him one step closer to you.

"Me." Mary blurts. The three of you protest, walking toward her but get blasted back by Billie. Her smile is stretched impossibly wide; the ultimate prize of a Winchester who was never supposed to walk this green earth a second time.

"You said come midnight, a Winchester dies? I'm a Winchester." Mary states, putting her gun up to her head.

"Works for me." Billie smirks, her eyes flicking to the three of you pinned on the ground.

Mary takes a shaky breath, picturing her beautiful family and the heroic lives they'll lead and uttering one final "I love you."

"Mary don't!" You scream as Billie yells out in pain. Mary snaps her eyes open, putting her gun down when she sees a silver blade sticking out of Billie's chest.

As she falls to her knees you see Cas standing behind her. You feel her power vanish, the three of you quickly standing up.

"Cass, what have you done?" Dean barks.

"What had to be done. You know this world, this sad, doomed little world, it needs you. It needs every last Winchester it can get, and I will not let you die." He walks over to you and takes your hand. "I won't let any of you die."

The four of you stare in awe as Cas makes it a point to look at each one of you.

" And I won't let you sacrifice yourselves. You mean too much to me, to everything. Yeah, you made a deal. You made a stupid deal, and I broke it. You're welcome." He stomps back to the car, sliding into his seat.

"Still think I'm safer with anyone else?" You grumble to Dean, dropping his hand and sliding in next to Cas.

Tag list:

@deansqtpie

@supraveng

@winchestersgirl222

@fantasy-myth1

@laycblack

@urgirlarrielle

@akshi8278

@arctusluna

@malindacath

@lyarr24

@flamencodiva

[epicstuckyficrecs]

2020 Half-year fic rec for Steve Rogers’ birthday!

I made a poll on Twitter to know if people would be interested in me doing a half-year “best of” fic rec like I did last year , and the response was overwhelmingly positive, so here it is! 😊 These are my favorite fics of the year so far! (in no particular order)

Complete

Two Colors, White and Gold by Carelica (Canon-Divergent | 36K | Explicit): He’s here, he’s alive. His hand is on a tree.

Deep Sea Diving by AidaRonan/ @bisexualstarbucky​ (Shrunkyclunks | 5,4K | Explicit): Steve’s wallowing in heat-related misery under a shade tree in Central Park when a man walks by in bright red booty shorts and a crop top. RIP Steve Rogers. It was nice knowing you.

Some things you do for money by pushdragon (BDSM AU | 72K | Explicit): Steve’s wholesome take on domination has suddenly become the hottest thing in the business. He should be cashing in on his newfound celebrity, but instead he’s distracted by the guy who works odd shifts in the club’s bar, fresh out of prison and damaged in ways that don’t show.

the hand you want to hold is a weapon (and you’re nothing but skin) by voxofthevoid/ @voxofthevoid​ (Post-WS, Sex Pollen | 13K | Explicit): Steve gets sex-pollened. He handles it just fine, and then Bucky shows up.

Dear Mr. Postman by odetteandodile (Modern AU | 52K | Teen): “I’m um—your mailman,” Bucky says, lamely. Or—Steve and Bucky revive an old friendship, get married (but totally just as friends, for reasons), and navigate a few of the many trials of the heart that come with falling in love with your best friend. 

good on my own (needed me) by mcwho (Modern AU | 12K | Explicit): There are some mistakes that could be made by anybody. Anybody. Bucky taught high school pretty much his whole life, and that was fine, those were kids, and he knew all of them anyway, which meant there was very little chance of him accidentally fucking any of his students during an impulsive post-marital-breakdown Grindr hook-up. Which is exactly what he had done with Steve.or: bucky has not let steve rogers fuck him since his sophomore year (Part 1 of himbo-verse)

Latte Art and Slow Dancing in the Dark by deadonarrival (Modern AU with powers, Daddy kink | 89K | Explicit): Bucky is a somewhat well-adjusted former army sniper that got his shoulder blown out. He took his discharge and went home to finish school. His best friends and roommates (Nat & Clint) are CIA agents and tip him off that their local Sbux is hiring. He gets a job there and meets none other than the hottest guy on earth. So how does one get a date in the most top secret government location in the US? What happens when that guy is more than just a hot dorito and wants to give Bucky everything he wants? 

That Boy Is a Problem by 2bestfriends  (Modern AU | 10K | Explicit): In which a twinky little goth punk named Bucky puts a leash around Steve’s dick and he’s really into it. (The leash is a metaphor. For now.)

bullet in a gun (but in the end, my time will come) by voxofthevoid/ @voxofthevoid​ (Post-Endgame, Canon-divergent | 25K | Explicit): Post-Thanos, Bucky Barnes has happily settled into a life of peace and pining. That’s when alternate versions of the best friend he’s secretly in love with start showing up.

Like it’s the Only Thing I’ll Ever Do by howdoyousleep/ @howdoyousleep3​ (ABO AU | 39K | Explicit): When Steve opens the door, Bucky feels like he’s been living in clouds for the past few days, maybe even his entire life. Steve is life, Steve is happiness, Steve is the sun. He has such a visceral reaction to seeing the Alpha that he feels his knees go weak, feels his body draw tight towards the other man, pulled in. Or big Alpha Steve moves into sweet little Omega Bucky’s apartment building and a roller-coaster build of a romance ensues.

A Company Man by mambo/ @whtaft (Modern AU | 75K | Explicit): No matter what it is, the truth is the same: Steve Rogers is in love with Bucky Barnes, a married man.

How to Fuck With (and Feed) Your Soulmate by BlueSimplicity/ @bluesimplicity73​ (Soulmate AU, Shrunkyclunks | 114K | Explicit): It’s called the Grey Space; a patch of skin marking you as blessed and the first sign you have a soulmate. Steve Rogers didn’t have one when he crashed into the ice. But he did when he woke up in the future. The second sign is the Sense, a sharing of one the senses to help soulmates find each other. Steve’s Sense, taste, is rare, but he loves a challenge and a soulmate is a gift from the Fates. Except instead of a blessing, it’s a curse, since his soulmate is a dick. Bucky Barnes loves food and a homecooked meal is something he cherishes. When his Grey Space starts to itch, Bucky can’t help his excitement, since the Sense he and his soulmate share is taste. But not for long. Whoever he’s bound to has the blandest diet in the world, ignoring all Bucky’s messages. After weeks of putting up with tasteless food, Bucky decides to strike back.

Strangers in the Street by crinklefries/ @spacerenegades (Canon divergent | 15K | Teen): Every five years, Bucky meets the same tall, blond stranger.

Departure by Nejinee/ @nejineeee (Arrival AU | 80K | Mature): Captain America is recruited by the U.S. government to assist a linguist and her team of scientists in communicating with aliens after twelve mysterious space ships appear across the globe overnight.

Compatible - A Romantic Science Fiction Thriller in Four Parts by the1918/ @the1918​ (Shrunkyclunks, ABO AU | 33K | Explicit): When young nanotech engineer Bucky Barnes finds himself falling head first in love with none other than Steve Rogers, he ends up getting a lot more of the Alpha than he– or science– could ever have imagined possible.

WIP

four dreams in a row where you were burned by voxofthevoid/ @voxofthevoid (canon divergent, post-Endgame, 1945 alternate timeline | 10/? | 58K | Mature): When Steve uses the last of his Pym Particles to travel to 1944 and save his best friend, he doesn’t have a plan beyond leaving behind the battlefield and living his life alongside the people he loves. But the life that finds him is not the one he expects.

A Matter of Trust by chicklette/ @chicklette​ (Singer Bucky, Fake relationship | 7/13 | 26K | Explicit): At 43, James Barnes is a washed up old man. He’s got a dozen Grammys in the hall closet, an agent that can’t get him a deal, a decade-old case of writer’s block, a moody teen-aged daughter, and the gorgeous actress Natasha Romanova for an ex-wife. Enter Steven Grant Rogers, struggling twenty-something, orphan, and someone who has no idea who Barnes is. The two men meet by accident, doing nothing more than passing the time in a quiet bar. But when a pap gets a shot of the two men embracing, Bucky takes it as a chance to finally come out as bisexual, and his agent makes him a proposition: Ten new songs and one very sweet boyfriend will get him a new record deal that will maybe, just maybe put him back on top. Now all he has to do is write the songs, convince the kid, and not fall in love. Should be easy, right?

Bespoke by the1918/ @the1918​ (Shrunkyclunks, ABO AU | 6/10 | 61K | Explicit): “I love you, too. So fucking much,” Steve answered. His voice sounded cracked and exhausted, an exposed nerve ending in the shape of a man. “Some days I still don’t believe you’re real. Feels— feels like somehow, I’ve always loved you. Even when I didn’t know you.” Bucky smiled softly at that and felt his heart threaten to explode. Still straddling his lap, he reached a hand up to cup Steve’s cheek. “You’ve always known me,” he stated, simply. “I was made for you, remember?” (Part 2 of Compatible)

Series

couldn't get the boy to kill me by voxofthevoid/ @voxofthevoid (Shrunkyclunks, SHIELD Agent Bucky | 12 works, complete | 74K | Explicit): Captain America and the Winter Soldier are a terrifying duo on the field, working together with a well-oiled precision that tears through their enemies. Captain Rogers and Agent Barnes are distant coworkers, all polite nods and mission briefings. Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes are fire and gasoline; it never ends well.

the hero's shoulders by voxofthevoid/ @voxofthevoid (Shrunkyclunks, Post-CW, canon divergent | 3 works, not complete | 32K | Explicit): Sequel series to couldn't get the boy to kill me

~

Honorable mention for Where The Interstate Ends by paperstorm/ @paper-storm​ because it was posted last year but I only read it recently!

[lakesandquarries]

Jump the Fence Part Two: Ghost Out Of His Grave

chapter two: ghost in the world

summary: Benrey and Gordon adapt to living together. Some days are better than others.

notes: series title from “jump the fence” by mother mother. this part and the chapters within it are named after “ghosting” by mother mother.

PREVIOUSLY: gordon woke up in his apartment after leaving chuck e cheese only to find the rest of the science team has spawned as well. and then benrey showed up on his couch. gordon let benrey stay with with, stopped him from leaving in the middle of the night, and now they're sorta trying to be friends! IN THIS EPISODE: they go to target again

AO3 link

As soon as they step inside, Gordon remembers why he’d been putting off getting Benrey stuff. The first thing they do is ask to sit in the cart after watching a little kid get in, and as soon as Gordon explains that it’s not made for grown men (or whatever Benrey is) they try to climb into the main part of the cart.

He lets them push it, only for Benrey to nearly crash into a display within ten seconds.

“You are a disaster waiting to happen,” Gordon grumbles, grabbing the cart. “No, you’re a disaster actively happening.”

Benrey just gives him a sharp toothed grin.

“Okay. We’re here for clothing, right? Let’s just - Benrey!” They’ve already wandered off, into the makeup section of all things, holding up a tube of blue lip gloss.

“Says it’s candy flavoured,” Benrey informs Gordon as he maneuvers the cart through the narrow aisles.

“I’m not buying you that,” Gordon says. 

“Aw, why not? Don’t want me to look prettier than you?”

Is Gordon imagining things, or did Benrey just imply he’s pretty?

He shakes his head. “We’re here for clothes.”

“It’s like, $5.” Benrey pouts.

“I’m not made of money, dude.” Gordon pinches the bridge of his nose. Yeah, okay, he has a shit ton of money all of a sudden. But he also doesn’t have a job, so he’s not gonna blow all that money on whatever random shit Benrey wants. “Put it back.”

They grumble, but when Gordon’s managed to get the cart back out into the main aisle and Benrey’s next to him again, the lipgloss is gone.

Gordon doesn’t let Benrey out of his sight as he leads them to the Men’s section. “Don’t go too crazy. You can get like…five of each thing. Yeah, that seems like a good number.” Benrey huffs and rolls their eyes, but starts looking through the shirts, carefully considering each of them. 

“What’s with the...the dudes?” he asks, holding up a shirt with Invader Zim characters. 

“It’s from a cartoon,” Gordon says. “Have you never seen Invader Zim?”

Benrey puts the shirt back. “Uh. No.”

“Damn, I thought that would’ve been something you liked.” He glances over the other shirts, with an assortment of familiar characters. “What about this one? You know this guy?” he asks, pointing at a shirt with Spongebob on it. Benrey shakes his head. “You’ve never seen Spongebob? I thought that’d definitely be something you were into.”

“I know Spongebob,” Benrey says, grabbing the shirt to get a better look. “Didn’t recognize him all - crisp.”

“Crisp?”

“Yeah, y’know. He’s always like...lil fuzzy dude.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? What version of Spongebob were you watching?” It’s incredible how Benrey can turn anything into an argument, just by saying whatever bizarre thoughts pop into his head. 

“Spongebob! The little, the cartridge was like, green and white and orange, that’s how I could tell it apart from the others…” He’s gesturing with his hands, like he’s holding something. Like…

“Are - did you watch Spongebob on a fucking Gameboy Advance?”

“Yeah!” Benrey says, snapping their fingers with a grin. “Had some others, too. Shrek was the best.”

“They have Shrek on the - nevermind, that’s not important.” Gordon leans back against the cart. “What kind of weird ass childhood did you have that you grew up watching Spongebob on a Gameboy Advance?”

Benrey’s face drops. “A shitty one,” he mutters, turning back to the shirts.

Gordon winces, leaning back against the cart. Right. Bad question, Gordon.

He’s quiet as Benrey finishes picking out his clothing, and doesn’t say anything when it’s a bit more than he’d suggested. He doesn’t comment on how Benrey keeps blinking, shutting his eyes harder than should be necessary. 

Should he apologize? Would that make things worse? It’s probably a conversation better suited for when they’re home. Or maybe Gordon’s just a coward.

Either way, Benrey seems done, so Gordon leads him over to the checkout. There’s only a couple cashiers available, with long lines on both, so Gordon grabs a magazine to look over, Benrey peering over his shoulder.

It’s one of the weirdo conspiracy ones, because those are always at least mildly entertaining. It’s mostly the usual kind of stuff - some random celebrity secretly died, this other celebrity secretly didn’t - but tucked off to the side he finds one thing that really piques his interest.

“Experimental Lab Blown Up By U.S. Government?” is the headline, and it seems to be accusing Black Mesa of “unethical and dangerous science” and claiming the government had it blown up to “protect citizens”.

“Benrey,” he says, about to point it out to him, only to realize Benrey has completely vanished. “Shit,” he mutters, pulling the cart out of line. Fuck. Where the hell did they go?

Gordon retraces the route they’d taken, heading back to the Men’s section. There - by the fitting room, he thinks he sees a person in a gray beanie duck past an employee.

She seems pretty distracted, luckily. Gordon abandons the cart, darting past her. “Benrey?” he calls out, poking his head into the empty stalls.

There’s only one closed door, all the way in the back. Fuck, Gordon hopes he didn’t just chase down a random person. He knocks on the door. “Benrey? You in there?”

“No,” Benrey says.

Gordon sighs. “Benrey, c’mon, just open the door. Please?”

The door swings open. Benrey stands there, head tilted down like the floor is the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. He’s shaking slightly, shoulders up around his ears, a couple of those dark translucent bubbles Gordon saw the night before floating around.

Gordon stays in the doorway, chewing on the inside of his lip as he tries to figure out what to say. “What’s going on?” is what he settles with, trying to keep his tone gentle. 

“‘s nothing,” Benrey mutters, still not looking up. “Uh, uh, I. I got bored standing in line. Yeah.”

“Dude, c’mon. I’m trying to help.” He might be some kind of terrifying fucked up alien, but right now, Gordon just feels kinda bad for him. Something has him upset.  

“Maybe I don’t want help. Idiot.”

The insult doesn’t piss him off like it usually would. There’s no bite behind it. 

“Is this about the shirt?”

Benrey’s quiet for a moment. “I saw the - the thing you were reading. About - y’know.” Gordon doesn’t speak, waiting to see if Benrey will say more. “‘s stupid,” they mumble.

“It’s not stupid if it’s got you this freaked out,” Gordon says.

Benrey’s fidgeting with their hat again, tugging on the ends of it. “BM’s not s’posed to be real,” he says finally. “None of it was. I thought - I thought it’d stay not-real.” Their hands are trembling, and they stop fidgeting with their beanie, pressing their hands together instead. A few more dark bubbles slip out. “I don’t wanna go back.”

“Black Mesa’s completely destroyed, dude. No one’s gonna make you go back.” It’s such a bizarre flip from how Benrey normally is, Gordon has no idea how to handle it. “No one’s alive to make you go back.”

“I don’t wanna go back,” Benrey says again, this time more of a choked whisper. Oh, fuck, he better not start crying. This is awkward enough as is.

“No one’s gonna make you go back,” Gordon repeats. “I - I promise.” He rubs the back of his neck, hoping he’s saying the right things. “I won’t let that happen.”

Benrey pitches forward suddenly, burying their face in Gordon’s shirt. Gordon wraps his arms around them almost on autopilot, reminded of Joshua when he’s upset.

“Shit,” he whispers. “Okay, uh. Just. Breathe, okay? You’re fine. Everything’s fine.”

There’s a sniffling sound. Gordon pats their back. Benrey’s definitely crying - Gordon can feel his shirt getting damp. He starts rubbing circles into their back, the same way he does with Joshua. 

The two of them stand there a while longer, Benrey continuing to cry into Gordon’s shirt while Gordon mumbles awkward assurances, until finally they pull back. 

“You okay?” Gordon asks. Benrey nods, wiping at their face.

“Let’s go,” he says, pushing past Gordon out of the fitting room.

What the fuck, Gordon thinks to himself. Clearly this is something they’re gonna need to talk about more. But. Later, when Benrey’s less likely to burst into tears again. 

They get through checkout without any trouble. Gordon doesn’t bother looking at any magazines this time, instead taking a moment to send a text to Tommy asking what the shadow-y bubbles mean. Benrey’s quiet, attention caught by the candy selection. Gordon reaches past him, grabbing a couple kit kats and a bag of skittles and adding them to their stack of stuff.

Once they’re in the car, Gordon passes Benrey one of the kit kats. “You big on candy?” he asks, opening his own.

Benrey looks over it quizzically. “Only really had like, the little...the foil ones. With the paper. Hershey’s kisses.”

“Oh, those suck,” Gordon says, snapping the kit kat. “Hershey used to fucking like, put sawdust in their chocolate. I don’t trust that shit.”

Benrey’s mouth drops open, candy bar forgotten. “What? Tommy said those are the best kinda chocolate.”

“Listen, I love Tommy, but - he does not have the best taste. I mean, fucking coolattas?”

Benrey shakes his head. “Can’t trust anyone.”

Gordon snorts. “Look, try the kit kat. Tell me what you think.”

It’s moments like these when Gordon regrets interacting with Benrey. He unwraps the kit kat and, instead of breaking it, bites directly into it.

“Crunchy,” he says.

It’s not even worth it to say anything, is it? Gordon just sighs as Benrey eats, leaning back in his seat. When Benrey’s done mangling his kit kat, he goes to shove the wrapper in his pocket, only to start laughing. Gordon squints at him, trying to figure out what he’s doing, and Benrey pulls something out of his pocket. Something blue, and glittery.

“Motherfucker. Did you steal the fucking lip gloss?”

He peels the plastic off with his teeth, licking the applicator. “Doesn’t taste like the kit kat,” he announces.

“Not all candy is chocolate.”

Benrey frowns. “I think it just tastes like glitter.”

“Glitter has a flavor?”

The drive home is...peaceful. Quiet, but not the awkward silence from earlier. Benrey’s making his way through the bag of skittles, bubbles of brightly coloured Sweet Voice following each different flavor.

It’s a few hours later that Gordon gets a response from Tommy.

Dark like the shade means “I’m afraid”

[duhragonball]

On Twitter, there’s a new movement that started up on... Thursday, I guess, with the hashtag #SpeakingOut, where women were encouraged to call out instances of sexual abuse.     I’m not sure if it started with the pro wrestling community or not, because earlier in the week I saw some stuff about comic book pros like Warren Ellis and Cameron Stewart, but maybe that was a precursor.   All I know is that right now, I’ve been seeing all sorts of names being dropped in the pro wrestling business, each of them accused of being sexual predators, or covering up for the crimes of others.    Some of the names I don’t recognize, because they’re independent wrestlers from promotions I’m not familiar with, but I’ve seen some names I do know, and that’s pretty tough to take.   I’m going to discuss this here. 

Predictably, I’ve seen some backlash to #SpeakingOut, which reminds me of the same bullshit talking points used by the #IStandWithVic crowd last year.   In case you didn’t know, Vic Mignogna was a voice actor who worked for Funimation and provided the dub performances for Broly in DBZ, and Eward Elric in Fullmetal Alchemist.   I think those were his two most famous roles.   Over the decades, Vic garnered a reputation for being a sex pest, kissing and inappropriately touching women and teenage girls at conventions, and harassing his colleagues.  I assume the release of the “Dragon Ball Super: Broly” movie in the U.S. in 2019 precipitated a newfound interest in those allegations, and fans started objecting to his bookings at 2019 conventions.    By mid-year, Vic was fired from Funimation and RoosterTeeth, and he responded to this by starting an ill-advised defamation lawsuit.   

Vic’s defenders are, to put it mildly, idiots.    There were professional lawyers on Twitter who explained, very clearly, why this lawsuit was a bad idea.   The main reason being that it was done in Texas, which has a lot of laws designed to make it harder to sue people for defamation.    I think Vic’s goal was to find some way to punish his accusers for making him look bad and getting him fired.   Winning the lawsuit, was a way for him and his supporters to feel like they “cleared his name”, except that was never how it worked.   If he had been arrested and tried for sex pest crimes, the burden of proof would be on his accusers to show that he really did bad things.   But he was suing people for slander, so that means the burden of proof was on him to show that they really were saying things that were demonstrably false and damaging to his reputation.    The main problem with that is everyone had been talking about his sex pestery for years, so it doesn’t make sense to single a few people out in 2019 and blame them for reinforcing something everyone already believed.  But the ISWV crowd kept insisting that this distinction didn’t matter, and that it was wrong to ostracize or turn against Vic without “proof”.   I see the same demands for “proof” being tossed around for all these wrestling personalities.  

I think there’s a couple of things going on with this.   One is simple denial.   If you’re a fan of someone and you find out they did something terrible, you really don’t want to believe it.   I was never that into a lot of these guys, but I know I felt pretty low when I first heard about Vic’s shenanigans, because I liked his work.    And I’m feeling that way about Warren Ellis now.   Not a huge fan, but I liked some of his stuff, and now I feel a little guilty by association for ever liking that stuff in the first place.   It would be nice, I suppose, to just pretend that I hadn’t heard those accusations, or that they weren’t real.    Then I could just go back to the way things were before, without all the uncomfortableness.   I just can’t do that, but it seems like a lot of people can and will.   It’s not about “proof”, it’s about putting up some sort of barrier that will excuse them from confronting an unpleasant truth. 

I think this is why you see people going out of their way to defend Christopher Columbus and Confederate monuments.    They want to believe that there was something noble about that stuff, because the alternative is to admit that a lot of the things they learned in school aren’t true, and a lot of the “heritage” they cling to is built on white supremacy and slavery.    I don’t think anyone really cares about a Robert E. Lee statue, but I’ve seen people go out of their way to try to say Lee opposed slavery, like he’s one of the good Confederates, so he should get a pass.   Except he did own slaves, and even if he hadn’t, he still fought to defend a nation founded on slavery as a guiding principle.    Tearing down a statue of Lee is a tacit admission that Lee never deserved a statue in the first place, and everyone who admired him was wrong, and maybe the admiration was rooted in racism all along.   That’s a bitter pill for people to swallow, and a lot of them just refuse to swallow it.   So they deny and deflect, and do anything they can to make this about something else.   

The other side of it is just plain hatred.   I don’t know if Vic’s defenders were all misogynists to begin with, but it seems like they all got there, one way or another.   The train of thought always seemed to be “He didn’t do these things, but even if he did there’s nothing wrong with it.”   From what I saw, it really seemed like Vic’s backers were all fired up about defending a man’s right to creep on women in any way he sees fit.   “What, so kissing is illegal now?” No, jackass, but when you’re fifty-fucking-five and you kiss a seventeen-year-old girl who only wanted to take a picture with you, it’s pretty damn messed up.    When you use your celebrity status to try to mack on young fans, that’s messed up.   When you’re an established wrestler and you try to take advantage of up-and-coming wrestlers, that’s messed up.    And some of that behavior is totally illegal, but the sad reality is that most of these creeps will never get prosecuted for any of it.   That’s why the calls for “proof” are so hollow, because everyone knows it’ll never end up in a courtroom.  At best, some of these guys will get fired, and guess what?  “Innocent until proven guilty” doesn’t apply to employers.   I lost a job once because my “teamwork” wasn’t good enough, and that was the closest thing to an explanation I got.    Don’t bullshit me about “proof”.

I guess I should tie this train of thought in with Black Lives Matter while I’m at it.    I find it absurd that the police in this country are so out of touch that when there’s a nationwide protest against police brutality, their immediate response is... more brutality.   This, more than anything I’ve seen, is the reason to defund the police.    They appear to only have the one mode of conduct, and they don’t even know how to do things a different way.    If the situation is this bad, we may as well scrap the police as they are and start over.   If the cops wanted to fix this situation, all they have to do is treat people with respect and hold themselves accountable, but they can’t let go of their hatred for five fucking minutes and figure that out.   This is why you hear about those guys who make up stories about restaurants spitting in their food.   They’re paranoid that everyone’s out to get them because they know they deserve to face some consequences, so they’re constantly on guard for this sort of thing.  It’s sick. 

Somehow, people who support these guys end up supporting the very behavior they were supposed to be denying.    Maybe this is why Columbus is such a sticking point.   I never gave a shit about Columbus.   One of my high school yearbooks had a Columbus theme because it just happened to come out on the 500th anniversary of his first voyage to North America, but I never understood what that had to do with my high school.   I think there’s people that want to give him tons of credit, basically thank him for everything that’s happened in the Western Hemisphere since 1500, not in spite of his atrocities, but to retroactively justify them.   What I mean is, if you can convince society that Columbus was a great man, and that his achievements outweigh his wrongdoing, then you can also convince society that the wrongdoings aren’t actually that bad.    “The price of progress,” they can say.    It’s like the idea that Robert E. Lee is admired solely for his “brilliant” military mind.   His side lost the fucking war, so I never understood how he gets all this credit for being a great general.    The point is that if you can convince people that he was a noble man in spite of the slavery thing, then you can open the door to the idea that the Confederacy as a whole wasn’t That Bad, and that only opens the door to the idea that slavery wasn’t That Bad, and so on.  

Same deal with Roman Polansky and Woody Allen.    It amazes me that people will still try to defend those fucks, but it probably has a lot to do with all the other sex pests in Hollywood, who hope that everyone will stick up for them when they get exposed.   So you have this little chesnut about how “Yeah, they did bad things, but they sure made some good movies.”     The implication is that you have to accept a few sex crimes if you want good art.    And no, that’s not true, and even if it were true, it wouldn’t be worth it.   

I don’t know where things will end up with J.K. Rowling.   I’d like to think that one of these days, she’ll wake up and apologize for all this TERF rhetoric she’s been spouting.    That would probably be the best-case scenario.   More likely, she’ll cause an entire generation of Harry Potter fans to wrestle with their loyalty to her books.   There’s no job to fire her from, no laws to punish her, no government agency to step in.    She’s got no financial stake in repairing this PR damage.   There’s going to be an audience of bigots that will still kiss up to her no matter what she says, so her ego will be well-insulated.    Maybe a hundred years from now, people will be talking about tossing her statue in a river, as society admits that we don’t need to accept transphobia in exchange for YA literature.   

I don’t know, I think I went all over the place with this one, but I had a lot to get off my chest.   I think the overall lesson from this year is that we can’t put these people on pedestals.   Some of them are just hell-bent on letting us down, and it’s just a matter of time before their misdeeds are brought to light.   I see these dopes with Thin Blue Line flags and “I stand with [X]” hashtags and I’m like “Who are you supporting here?    What is it you’re standing for, exactly?   Why should they be worthy of your loyalty?”    And I think the answer is less about loyalty to a person or group, and more about sticking it to someone else.   Women, minorities, whoever.   They just want to stand by someone to spite someone else.    And that’s awful.   

[awf2]

ok i’m going to try to explain this and the context the best that i can. if i squirrel/go off on tangents just bare with me. this is just a theory based on the info i have and i’m 100% not saying this is The Way it happened. at least right now.

basically tldr the entire denton affair happening (i.e. brad and janet ending up at the frankenstein place that night + dr. scott showing up later) was a plan hatched by dr. scott and brad.

to explain this, though, i have to back up and explain dr. scott a little bit because there’s only so much context we’re given through the show. dr. scott is listed as a “rival scientist,” but we find out later that this is not true. frank accuses brad of being in cahoots with dr. scott, and he is worried that everything was a setup (“now he works for your government, doesn’t he, brad? he’s attached to the bureau of investigation of that which you call u.f.o.s isn’t that right brad?”). how frank knows this is something i’ll touch on in a bit, but basically, assuming that brad is lying when he denies this, what we can gather from that is: dr. scott works for the government, specifically for a branch of investigation into aliens. this is most likely the same branch of government that ray ammbo works for.

in revenge of the old queen, ray ammbo is “head of a u.s. agency which investigates u.f.o. and extraterrestrial activity on earth.” he is also later revealed to be loyal to the transylvanian way. so, this federal agency is corrupt (obviously, since steve majors attempts to prove the existence of transylvanians and ray purposefully sends him on a wild goose chase). most likely, ray is not the first corrupt head of this agency, and most likely, the transylvanians have always essentially run this agency by installing people loyal to them as to protect themselves (since they have safe houses all over the united states + the world) and prevent their untimely exposure to the general public. hence, they don’t need to worry about the organization as a whole, but rather the individual operatives, like dr. scott and steve majors.

then it’s safe to assume that whoever was the head of this agency before and during the time of the denton affair was also loyal to the transylvanian way and corrupt in their position. this also explains how frank would know of (and have contempt for) dr. scott, despite them never having met previously. 

knowing this, and knowing what we know about dr. scott (straight-laced, for example), he is probably the black sheep of his job because he has genuine scientific interest in finding and proving that aliens are real. at the very least, he’s probably not welcome amongst his coworkers. imagine you’re dr. scott living out in the woods far past the border of denton, and one day, a fucking spaceship castle lands within proximity to your property. then imagine going into your job to tell your boss about it and your boss tells you that you’re crazy even though you know you’re not. so you decide to continue to monitor the castle on your own regardless.

to put the proverbial cherry on top of this alien cake, dr. scott’s nephew, eddie, gets involved with the inhabitants of the castle. we know from eddie’s teddy that dr. scott and eddie did not have a great relationship – and had it not been for the bloodied note dr. scott has in his possession, we might question if they were in contact with each other at all. so now, dr. scott’s fascination in the frankenstein place is more than just that; it’s personal. maybe dr. scott saw eddie’s involvement as a way for him to get close and find proof without actually doing any of the work himself. maybe eddie refused because he doesn’t like his uncle telling him what to do. maybe this is why they’re in correspondence with each other at the time leading up to the denton affair.

maybe the bloodied s.o.s. dr. scott receives from eddie a few months prior to the denton affair is finally reason enough to go investigate himself.

this is where brad comes in. brad is very close with dr. scott because he attended dr. scott’s “refresher courses” in high school, and they evidently had scientific interests in common. because of this close teacher/student relationship, years after graduating, dr. scott offers brad some kind of position within the governmental agency he works for (because denton is a very small town and most jobs do not pay more than minimum wage). or maybe all dr. scott has to do is call brad up and explain the frankenstein place situation to him in order to recruit brad to his cause.

and brad, being the dutiful student he always was, agrees to help – especially if it ends up in proof that aliens exist, and maybe a job opportunity. 

so that’s why brad insists on going to dr. scott’s after getting engaged to janet. it’s the first step in the plan to get brad into the frankenstein place.

that’s why brad takes the wrong fork, despite having been to dr. scott’s plenty of times before. that’s why he decides to walk miles in the downpour to go to the frankenstein place when it might be the same amount of distance to go to dr. scott’s – where he knows there’s a phone he can use at the very least.

and when dr. scott shows up in the middle of the night under the guise of looking for eddie (despite having been sent that bloody note a good amount of time prior to the denton affair and has absolutely no sense of urgency), it’s really because he assumes something went wrong when it’s been hours past when brad was supposed to phone him.

this, to me, explains why dr. scott says in reference to the sonic transducer “it’s something we ourselves have been working on for quite some time” to brad specifically. it also explains why brad is more or less not as shocked as the rest of the party when dr. scott drops the alien bomb – he looks more distraught than surprised. maybe he thought they had some kind of upperhand by not letting frank know that they knew he was an alien. maybe he thought letting frank know they knew would end in their demise, given his prior experience with watching eddie get murdered.

obviously everything that happened that night was not according to brad and dr. scott’s plan, from brad not getting to a phone to the floorshow. but this is where i’m at right now with why the denton affair even happened in the first place, rather than it being all coincidence or some master manipulation by frank to get brad and janet there. 

the only real hiccup in this theory that i can think of is janet. i can’t imagine brad bringing janet along for any other reason than to not go alone, nor could i imagine him bringing her along due to the unexpected circumstances of their engagement and then trying to leave her in the car. 

[royalskarsgard]

Once in a Lifetime

Billy Hargrove X Reader

Summary: Is it harder to love the man who broke your heart or to forgive him?

A/N: This is sooooooo overdue, and I’m so sorry. Family issues got in the way. And a whole lot of writer's block. But I hope you can forgive me, it’s super long to account for how long I went missing! Thanks to the loml for helping me through this @hotstuffhargrove

Sequel to ‘Love You, Goodbye.’

Warnings: one swear word

Word count: 2.4k

“Fucking Harrington! Get your dirty clothes out of the bathroom,” you groaned. He always did this after work, he always left his dirty uniforms on the bathroom floor. He claimed he was too exhausted after work to bring them to the correct place. Yet, a sudden burst of energy always appeared when his “study buddy” called to meet him at the library. 

“I’ll get them later! I’m actually. Headed out to meet Lisa at the library. I’ll catch you tomorrow!” He rushed out. You rolled your eyes, wondering why Steve thought his lies were believable. He’s clearly in love. 

Love was cruel and not worth anything in the end. It’s just a consumeristic ploy that gets you to buy movie tickets and to sell chocolate on Valentine’s Day. It wasn’t real. It was all lust, love at first sight? Fake, what they're really thinking is, ‘my god, that person really is fuckable.’

Sighing, you went into your powder pink bathroom. Feet slipping on the water Steve had left after his shower. When all his clothes were in the correct hampers, you quickly passed the kitchen, deciding to skip dinner. You weren’t that hungry, working at a diner was hard, but the free food was a good perk. Especially for a broke college student. 

Your room was dark, the door screamed against its hinges as you shut it. As much as you loved Steve, you were glad he was always gone. In part because it’s what you preferred and you didn’t want to infect in with your sadness. Was it really that pathetic that you were currently reaching for a half-empty bottle of cologne to spay onto your sheets? That in two minutes, you would light three cigarettes and hold them near your pillow? Maybe, but it was the only thing keeping you afloat. Especially now. 

With the cigarettes burning in your hand, you picked up your favorite picture of him. It was a rare one, he was actually smiling. It wasn’t one of those signature smirks he always gave. It was real. The real billy. No one really gave the real Billy a chance. They wrote him off as a punk as soon as they saw him. People are quick to judge when they don’t know the whole story. Just like love, the truth was more painful than what they told us growing up.

“Why can’t I move on?” You whispered to yourself. You took a drag of the cigarette that sat lit between your fingertips. A coughing attack took over, and you groaned reaching for some water. You couldn’t understand his appeal for them, never had, and never will. After all three were burnt, you laid down in your bed that was now plastered in his scent. It wasn’t perfect. Your sheets weren’t mixed with his shampoo, his hairspray or the way his skin smelled after a basketball game. But it was close enough to lull you to sleep for a few hours. 

“Hey! Wake up, we gotta go. It’s an emergency. Pack a bag we’re going to the airport,” Steve shook your shoulders ripping you away from a peaceful sleep. Your heart climbed into your throat and made you sick to your stomach. When you finally gained full consciousness, you watched as Steve ran around the room putting things he thinks you like in a bag. 

He motioned for you to hurry and rushed to his own room to do the same. Grabbing more essentials and getting dressed, you found Steve waiting in the living room for you. He had a toothbrush in his mouth, the paste dribbling down his chin. His shoulder held the phone close to his ear, confirming two flights to LAX. It was two am, and it was officially proven that Steve Harrington was crazy. 

~~

Three days earlier

Billy’s eyes widened as he saw a brown-eyed boy with a bowl cut standing in front of him.  A chill ran up his spine, he knew this kid. The boy smiled before he took a small step back. 

“Will Byers, Jonathan's brother, I was a friend of Max’s?” Billy nodded, finally putting the pieces together. They weren’t friends by any means, but he’d seen him around. He never tried to date Max, so there was no point in getting to know him. 

“How are you alive? We all saw you die, you sacrificed yourself to the mind flayer. How did you survive? Did El bring you back to life?” Rather than frightened, the boy looked confused. He looked as if Billy being brought back to life was an acceptable answer. There was no fear, only confusion, and genuine concern. And for some reason deep down, Billy didn’t feel afraid to tell him the truth, so that’s what he did. 

“Everything was dark, it was Hawkins but with the life taken out of it. It was so cold. No matter what I did, I could never get warm. Sometimes I was in a dark room with water, and I saw that girl you know there too. I tried to get to her, but she left before I could reach her,” with every word he said Billy got more and more withdrawn. A cold breeze running through his body. Will shivered the more he talked 

“We call it The Upside Down, I’ve been there too. When they thought I was missing, that’s where I was. The thing that you saw down there, and what died in the mall was a mind flayer,” the young boy sighed knowing this was information overload. But he also knew that Billy deserved answers. 

“It possessed me too, except I wasn’t stuck in the upside-down. I’m not sure how that happened. A couple of years ago, the U.S. government used Hawkins as one giant experiment, trying to find out that the supernatural existed, to use it as a weapon. Things turned sour, and it left a big mess for my friends, it’s how we found El. She’s the girl you saw down there.” 

On any regular basis, billy would’ve told the young child to go fuck off and give some insult about how he was crazy. But Billy heard the stories about Will Byers, the boy who came back to life. He’d once found an old missing poster with him on it. So for now, he didn’t find it that crazy, especially paired with Billy’s own experiences 

“I saw her touching me.. not me per se but, whatever looked like me. I was sitting on my bed in my room, and she was real and apparently so was I. I tried to yell, to run to get there but nothing was enough. Now it just feels like it’s watching me, following me.”

“We’re connected to it now, to the mind flayer. Even in death, I can still feel it. Maybe it will never leave, maybe it will go away. It’s terrifying, but I don’t want it to control my life. Do you?” A simple question, yet it caught him off guard. He had moved on, things were going fine he had a job, a home, and a small group of friends. But if he asked himself if he was truly happy, he probably would’ve said no. He was scared shitless. 

“Can I ask you for a favor?” Billy whispered. The boy nodded, knowing that despite everything, the two young men would do anything for each other. 

“Can you call someone for me?” 

~~~

Present:

The car moved shook with the bumps along the pavement. The smell of sea salt was becoming stronger, the closer you got to the beach. It was beautiful, that’s what Steve said at least. Your mind was racing, your heart stopped, and your chest slowly moving. You didn’t know how to feel. When you touched down in Los Angeles, you figured something was off, but when Steve started driving towards Palos Verdes, you knew something major must be wrong. You had begged and pleaded to know if El and the rest of the Byers family were okay. It terrified you to no end when Steve remained silent. It took you screaming your lungs out for Steve to finally pull over to a local diner. 

Now you sat in the passenger seat tears streaming down your cheeks. You didn’t know what to say, you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t even blink. Billy was alive. Steve told you everything on the side of the highway, at first you thought you heard him wrong because of all the cars driving past. But Steve stood there barely looking you in the eyes like he felt guilty for giving you the information. He hasn’t said much either since you stepped in the car. Explaining it all either drained him or he was afraid to say anything more.

“Billy Hargrove died in the Starcourt Mall from a freak gas leak. If that’s not true, that means the truth is more painful than what actually happened” Steve sighed, he had no idea how to comfort you. He couldn’t tell you everything was okay or it would be fine because it wasn’t. 

Billy was alive, you knew that in your heart. You prayed for so many nights it was all a joke and Billy was pissing his pants from how funny it was. That he would pick you up from work and drive you home. That the man you all thought had died just looked a lot like Billy, and you didn’t know who he really was. 

Yet somehow the truth was much worse than that. Billy knew your heart was shattered, he knew that you were in pain, and he was the only one who could save you. Instead of coming back and risking questions, he walked away. He walked away from you, Max, and everyone else. He watched you and decided you weren’t enough of a reason to come back. He lived it up in California while you got to hold max when she cried herself to sleep every night. Maybe everyone was right, he wasn’t redeemable he was just an asshole. 

“Do you want to see him?” Steve asked you, the beach was only a few minutes away, and your anxiety grew with each mile closer. 

“How am I supposed to look at him after everything. I thought he died in my arms and it turns out he was alive the whole time? Why didn’t he come to me?” A small part of you knew why he did what he did, he was scared and alone. 

“You’re the only person who’s looked at him with pure kindness, he was confused and had nowhere to go. Can you blame him for running away?” He reached over and grabbed your hand. A small gesture that brought you great comfort. 

“How many people know?” 

“Only you, me and Will. Billy wanted to make sure you knew before the others. I’m not sure if he ever plans on telling the others.” He pulled into the beaches parking lot. The glow of the setting sun burned your eyes. He was down there, in the flesh for the first time in over a year. 

You figured out later that the last time you saw the unflayed Billy was the night of the accident. He had just dropped you off, and he said he would see you tomorrow, that he loved you and to be safe. He kissed you and smiled before getting into his car and driving away. After that, Billy started pushing you away, using you only for sex. Until that stopped too and he barely spoke to you. Then he died. You’d felt guilty for so long for not seeing the signs. 

“What if I can’t forgive him?” the whispered confession left your lips in shame. Was it fair to have spent a year grieving for this man only to push him away when you finally got him back? 

“Then you move on, but you won’t know until you see him. So go, he’s waiting.” that was his gentle way of kicking you out of his car. 

You stepped onto the hot pavement. The heat immediately suffocating you, this wasn’t Hawkins anymore. You saw Will standing close the steps, silently greeting you. He gave you a warm smile like he was telling you everything was going to be okay. Will nodded towards the water before going to sit in Steve’s car. 

Taking a deep breath of the salty air, you made your way down to the water. The hot sand sinking underneath your feet. Billy was here, this was the moment. Was he still the same? Would you still love him? Had he moved on? Was he just as broken as you? Your mind flooded with all these questions as you kept walking. Billy wasn’t there yet, giving you a small second of relief to catch your breath. 

A small tap on your shoulder broke you from your thoughts, it was hesitant, and he was obviously just as nervous as you were. There he was. When you turned around, the man you loved more than anything was again standing in front of you. He had been kissed by the sun, and his hair was wilder than ever before. His green eyes were bright against his now tanned skin. 

A surge of anger ran through you as you shoved him away, again and again, and again. He took all of it. He grabbed your wrists when you started beating his chest. Bruises would appear later, but Billy knew full well he deserved all of it and more. 

“I’m so sorry,” he begged. His heart was beating so fast against his chest; he was afraid it would kill him before he could get the words out. You looked so perfect, he never doubted you would, but after a year you weren’t just in his dreams anymore. Your face was perfectly clear, the nightmares about forgetting your face vanished. 

He caught you before you fell to your knees into the sand and lowered his own body to you. He ran his fingers through your hair and held you close to his chest. Repeating that he was sorry and that he loved you so much. He begged you to forgive him. 

As he held you, your lungs filled with the smell of cigarettes, his cologne, and the smell of dried sea salt against his skin. He was back, he was warm, life was coursing through his veins. Every image of his cold body being whisked into a black back was replaced. You loved him, he was your one and only. The only man you could ever think of loving. Forgiveness was already given,   and explanations could wait until later. You had all the time in the world, nothing would separate the two of you again. He would always be there for you, he was your forever and always, and you were his.

Tagged: @hotstuffhargrove @asheseiler

[princesssarcastia]

Leverage International

Soooooo I just rewatched the leverage finale, and GOD what a wonderful sandbox to play in. I still want a season six or a movie tbh, there’s such a wonderful story there that I trust them to tell.  But in the meantime...

I think it was @smokeandsong who referred to leverage as “millennial revenge porn,” and they were ABSOLUTELY RIGHT. 

Step one: I know people have said this before, but obviously this is a dichotomous setup: we have the ot3 running cons and crossing evil rich dudes off their list on one side, and Nate and Sophie running around Europe, Most Definitely Retired, Yes Siree, on the other. 

(Nate could not retire if his life depended on it, let’s be real, and Sophie is absolutely willing to enable his robin hood tendencies)

Step two: Leverage International

See, in the finale the ot3 talked about how every crew in the world was gonna want a piece of that action. so I think it would be cool to see a whole range of thieves, hitters, hackers, grifters, all coming to Parker and hardison and Elliot for a piece of that action

some of them are in it for the money, sure.  but some of them want a piece of that millennial revenge.  Nate was right; the men and women on this list broke the world, and the only reason they got away with it was because they were rich.  they fucked a whole lotta people over.  I wanna see those people not just coming to leverage for help, but taking action themselves

There’s the bby!hacker who comes to them for help taking on the real estate mogul that got their family's house foreclosed back in ‘08

the lesbian couple that took to grifting to make ends meet, a la Debbie ocean, and get in over their heads with an awful banker dude 

the young disillusioned political activist who needs help hacking the government to ensure government workers get the pension funds they were promised by their state

and all of these thieves and hacker and grifters and hitters who join up with leverage for a heist, I want most of them to irrefutably ascribe to a post-modern sense of identity.  like, I’m talking every color of the literal rainbow and the LGBTQ+ rainbow, I want this to be the most blatantly diverse cast ever seen on TV, no doubt about it.  

 now they are absolutely going after rich bastards. as anyone can tell you, though, those bastards have some pretty suspicious links to the government.  and in some cases, they are the government! revolving door, anyone? (where’s that chart, about the percentage of millionaires in congress versus the percentage of the us pop that are millionaires) so as time goes on, their heists get closer and closer to the government, involve taking down more and more corrupt politicians.  

I mean, this wouldn't exactly be new ground for the show.  They’ve touched on shady corporate-government ties before, called people out about donations and voting and such.  but I want it to be a fucking pattern. 

Step Three: Sterling.

It seems to me that, no matter who he’s playing, all of Mark Sheppard’s characters fall firmly into the lawful column of the alignment chart. good, evil, whatever; he may be an opportunist, but in the blackened cockles of his heart he loves to thrive within a defined set of rules, and ensure that his enemies get trapped by the very same. 

So here is Jim “Lawful good/lawful neutral leaning” Sterling, agent of Interpol.  Sterling who, when we last saw him, was absolutely paying back his debt to Nate, but also said that justice is always easy. Who is maybe willing to bend the rules sometimes, but also kinda likes to play the righteous man, who probably imagines himself the Holmes to nate’s moriarty. 

Jim Sterling, who spends his time solving cases around the world and occasionally being harassed by Nate and Sophie (because why not), or being called to take out the trash when Nate and Sophie are done with someone (because really, these rich assholes make it so easy).  

Jim Sterling, who, as he spends more and more time with Interpol, finds himself running into people within his organization, within the governments of countries he’s operating in, within cooperating organizations, within suspect multinational corporations, that aren't even manipulating the system, they’r just flat-out ignoring it! Who really, truly just...use their money and influence to get away with some really awful shit.  And that bugs the shit out of his lawful little heart.

So maybe he kicks one or two people Nate and Sophie’s way.  Just a little bit.  Leaves them a name, lets them overhear a conversation, looks in the other direction...maaaayyybbeee leaves a door open once or twice.  Always with plausible deniability, of course, but he imagines that these corrupt rule-ignorers are getting their just desserts in the end.  Justice is always an easy choice.

Except, as Sterling spends more and more time at Interpol, he finds himself brushing up at the edges of...something.  People knowing each other who shouldn't, stonewalling from his superiors when they should be giving him a green light, loopholes in the system that shouldn't logically be there stopping him from bringing someone to justice.  It is incredibly frustrating. 

Step Four: The Paradise Papers

You know, that large, multi-continent-spanning, numerous-corporations-and-politicans-incriminating conspiracy uncovered by the International Consortium of Investigative Journalists about tax havens and fraud, etc., that nobody gave a shit about?

Apparently, the whole thing was kicked off by an anonymous Reddit user dropping hints

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

It’s interesting, actually; one of the major U.S. official connected with these papers was Gary Cohen, former chief economic advisor to Trump, and former chief operating officer of Goldman Sachs during the 2008 financial crisis. 

EVERYTHIGN IS CONNECTED. WE COME FULL CIRCLE.

six months ago:

Sterling kept up with feeding people to Nate and Sophie to chew up and spit out, and started dropping hints about the weird conspiracy he was running up against 

Hardison, Parker, and Eliot have resorted to putting up a giant red-stringed conspiracy board in the back room of the pub because this shit is so complicated and difficult to keep track of.

Eventually, ot3 follows the money to someone sterling recently kicked Nate and Sophie’s way, except it’s way bigger than they thought it was. they’re gonna need a bigger boat

At this point, they call on the friends and allies they've made along the way taking down the smaller fish on the list, and together they uncover this MASSIVE CONSPIRACY involving LITERALLY EVERY RICH PERSON EVERY JESUS CHRIST

(behind every great fortune is a great crime.  the same crime, apparently, all these rich people are involved in the SAME FUCKING CONSPIRACY WHAT THE FUCK)

Hardison starts vaguebloggin on Reddit because Sterling tipped them off that once again, the governments of the world knew and shrugged it off, so they need to hang them in the court of public opinion.  what better way to do so than setting a league of journalists on them?

The Team, Serendipitously Reunited On The Job, work together to infiltrate the offshore law firm responsible for covering everything up which is definitely not called appleby and get ahold of the documents they need to incriminate everyone, paired with the stuff in the black book.  there’s a surprising amount of overlap between these documents and the black book, which was Definitely Not Part Of The Plan

(in this world of gratuitous millennial revenge porn, of course, people sit up and give a fuck, instead of what happened in the real world, which is nothing)

so what do we get? “Endless parades of bankers being led around in chains.”  except it’s not just bankers, its politicians, career government officials, heads of corporations, etc. 

The world makes the choice between justice and order, and they choose justice

[lovemesomerafael]

Best That You Can Do                       Chapter 5:  Reboot

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Read it on AO3

The next morning, Kaitlyn looks like hell.  Not worse than William Dodds looked the day after he’d discovered his son was alive, but nearly as bad.  She’s wearing her usual crisp, professional suit, and she’s made an effort with her hair and makeup, but he suspects she scraped all her hair back into the unflattering, tight bun so she wouldn’t have to fuss with it, and no amount of makeup can hide the dark circles around her sunken eyes.

When she comes in for their usual morning stand-up meeting, he asks her to close the door.

“How are you doing this morning?”  He asks, waving her to one of the chairs in front of his desk while he remains seated. His look and the tone of his voice are soft.  Concerned.

Kaitlyn doesn’t answer right away, just sighs and sits heavily in the chair he indicated.  Dodds just waits.  

“I think I was in shock last night.  Because now that it’s starting to sink in, I feel…”  She shakes her head with a grimace.  “About a million different things.”

“Did you get any sleep?”

“A little.  Unfortunately.”

“Sorry.  I should’ve warned you about the dreams.”

Kaitlyn just nods.  

“I really hate whatever fucking no-name agency did this, and I especially hate that they seem to know what they’re talking about with that manual.  It makes me sick to think that they have enough experience to know how to handle this shit.”

“Mike’s alive.  I don’t understand why I’m so messed up about that!”  Kaitlyn’s voice breaks.  She’s really not doing very well.  “It’s good news!  Why am I not just happy?”

“I can tell you why, if you’re interested.  I ended up having to take that little State Department weenie’s advice and see a shrink about this.  I’ll give you his name, if you want.”

“I don’t know.  Maybe.  But the thing is, Chief, I don’t know if I’m ready to see Mike yet.  Is that weird?”  

“Not even a little bit. It’s why they don’t let you see him right away.  And if it makes you feel any better, that’s exactly how I felt.  Coffee?”

“No, thanks.  I’m not sure my stomach’s up to it right now.”

Dodds nods.  “Listen, you should know that he’s having his own issues with being back.  It’s not uncommon when you’ve been undercover, but this… this is a whole different ballgame.  So I don’t think you should plan on seeing him right away.  We just both wanted you to hear it from me before the news gets out. He’s still carrying a torch for you, you know.”

Kaitlyn actually grins a little at that.  “You’re relentless.”  

He grins, too, and shrugs.

“Can I ask you something, Sir?  You learned about this six months after they said he died, which is right about when you brought me back here.  Was that why?”  

“Yes and no.  I’d been thinking about it for a while, but I was ashamed.  I thought you’d be seriously miffed, and refuse to work with me again.  I honestly didn’t know how to fix what I’d done.  But then, when I learned he was alive, I just told myself it was as good a reason as any to try to correct my mistake in sending you away. Even if you didn’t know why.”

“I’m glad you did. Thank you again.”

“Don’t thank me.  It was purely selfish, and you know it.”

They share a quiet laugh, and William thinks Kaitlyn looks a little bit better than she did when she came in.  “Anyway, Mike’s working with a counselor, and she’s calling the shots right now.  It’ll be a few days, I think, before she lets him see anyone but me.  In the meantime, you keep just doing what you’re doing.  Work through it and talk to me.  OK?”

“I will.  But can you at least tell him I said hi?”  The hopeful light in her eyes almost immediately turns to doubt.  “Ugh, that seems so lame, nevermind.  I can’t…  Just forget it.”

“I’ll tell him.  It’ll make him happy.  He needs that right now.  Like I said, he’s struggling.”

 The next day, Chief Dodds comes into Kaitlyn’s office before it’s even time for their stand-up meeting. He’s grinning ear to ear, and he has a slip of paper in his hand, which he’s waving as if he’s getting away with something.

“What’s that?”  Kaitlyn asks suspiciously.

“It’s contraband,” he answers, full of glee.  “He doesn’t have permission to contact anyone yet, but he insisted, and he looked so happy about it that I agreed to smuggle this to you.”

“Oh, shit.  Is that… from Mike?”

With a ridiculous smile, Dodds hands the slip of paper to Kaitlyn.  It’s just a page from a small note pad, with a few words scrawled on it, but it feels precious.  Kaitlyn vaguely recognizes Mike’s handwriting from the countless birthday and Father’s Day cards the Chief’s displayed on his desk over the years.  She’s surprised to find that she’s shaking.  She’s actually holding a note from Mike Dodds, written the night before.  He’s really alive.  

I guess ghosts are supposed to say boo, but this one just wants to say hi back.  

See you soon,

Mike  

P.S. They didn’t give me a choice, but I’m sorry anyway.

Kaitlyn looks up from the note with a bright smile that’s at odds with the tears running down her cheeks. She stands up to hug Chief Dodds, who just looks smug.

************

Mike had actually come pretty close to learning what the U.S. penitentiary in Leavenworth looks like from the inside before he’d finally admitted that he wasn’t getting out of taking part in the operation the feds had abducted him for.  His rage at learning what they’d done to him and everyone who cared about him had been insurmountable at first.  It had actually hindered his healing for a while, until a guy with suits that made even his dad’s look cheap, whose rank Mike wasn’t allowed to know, had basically told him to sack up and deal with it.  After that, Mike had decided he might as well get on with it, since he wasn’t getting out of it.  

He’s always been good at undercover work, and following orders has never been a problem for him, so once he accepted his fate, he’d been all right.  He just tried to be the guy they’d turned him into.  He blocked out the thought of his parents – well, mostly his dad – believing he was dead and having to deal with all of that.  He tried not to think about his friends, either, although he did have a couple of morbid laughs at the idea of just showing up at Carisi and Barba’s door someday and scaring the shit out of Sonny.    

And that’s kind of the problem.  He hasn’t really been Mike Dodds for a year.  He’s intensely glad to be home, it’s just that it’s a little hard to feel like he’s home because he’d never seen this apartment before two weeks ago, and nothing in it belongs to him.  In fact, not much of anything belongs to him because, of course, his family got rid of everything when he died.  He doesn’t have a job, because he’s still sort of a secret until they finish putting together the plan to announce his resurrection, which is apparently a whole thing. He just wants this to be over, so he can be Mike Dodds again, whoever the fuck that is.

That’s why he’s been so grateful to get to hang out with his dad and talk about just normal shit like sports and what the SVU squad is doing, and memories from years ago that help him remember what’s real and what’s the lie he’s been living for the past year. It’s why he gets so excited when they let him sneak over to his dad’s apartment.  It’s the only place that feels even remotely like home, although he’s never lived there.  And it’s why he wasn’t about to take no for an answer when his dad said that Kaitlyn had asked him to say hello for her, and he got the idea to send her a note.  

When his dad tells him about her reaction to his note, Mike’s joy at the news is out of all proportion to the reality of the silly little exchange.  He’s tired of being cooped up in this strange apartment, with no visitors except for his dad.  He’s tired of not being able to work out or go running.  He’s really tired of being alone with his own thoughts.  He knows that’s a big part of his eagerness to see Kaitlyn, but it’s not the whole story.  Mike is certain that he was close to getting through to her before he was fucking kidnapped (they really hated it when he kept calling it that).  And he’s been pissed off for a whole year at being cock-blocked by the federal government.  

It’s a week before Mike is finally allowed to see Kaitlyn, and he’s started to think it will never happen. Everyone’s been told he’s alive, and they’re still in the time frame where they’re not allowed to see him, but Kaitlyn got the news early, so she’s ready.  Or as ready as she’s going to get.  He’s not at all sure what this is going to be like.

He’s had ten thousand fantasies about it.  She’s naked in a lot of them, but he’s actually not expecting anything like that, and not just because his dad’s going to be here.  The whole thing’s just so fucked up there’s no telling which way it’s gonna go.  He’s imagined tears and hugging about as often as he’s imagined yelling and face-slapping.

Kaitlyn and his dad are coming over for dinner.  He throws together some spaghetti sauce, adding some special touches he’s tried and found he likes.  He’s not much of a cook, but he figures everybody likes spaghetti, and the meal isn’t really the point, anyway.  

In a way, he’s kind of glad he has very little in the way of clothes, because that means he doesn’t have the option of worrying about how he’s going to look when they finally see each other. He just takes a shower and puts on jeans and a grey T-shirt.  And then he sits down to wait.  For as long as he’s been looking forward to seeing her again, it seems like another few minutes should be nothing, but that’s not how it goes.  The last half hour crawls.

*********

The Chief’s like a little kid, he’s so excited.  He’s chattering and smiling and hurrying Kaitlyn along, and it’s really annoying. Because she’s beyond nervous.  She’s sick with anxiety about what Mike will look like, and how she’ll feel, and what she’s supposed to say to a guy she treated like shit pretty much from the moment they met until the moment he died. Except that he didn’t die, and now she’s supposed to figure out the etiquette for that fucked-up scenario.

Kaitlyn can’t decide whether she’s glad Chief Dodds is here or not.  She’s a mess and she knows it, and hopefully he’ll be able to smooth things over if the wheels come completely off.  But she and Mike have basically jumped each other immediately each time they’ve spent any time together, so…  The whole thing is insane.  She’s been dying for this moment for a week, and now that it’s here, all she wants is for it to be over.  

They park in a dinky little lot behind a square, brick apartment building and Kaitlyn’s shaking legs carry her up four flights of stairs before the Chief knocks on a green metal door in an overlit, echoing cinderblock hallway.  

And then, just like that, Mike’s standing right in front of her.  His hair is longer, and he has a bit of facial scruff, both of which look ridiculously good on him.  His eyes, though… he looks like maybe it’s been a long year for him, too.  She’s imagined this moment incessantly since she learned he was alive, but she’s still surprised, because the one thing she didn’t expect is that he would still just be Mike.  And that’s the part that hits her like a freight train.  It’s like the last year never happened.  He’s just Mike, and she’s just Kaitlyn, same as they were the last time they saw each other.  

She thought maybe they’d throw themselves into each other’s arms at this moment.  Instead, they stand five feet apart and it’s awkward.  But only for a moment.  Because, suddenly, she realizes the ridiculousness of pretty much everything about what’s happened between them up to now, and she starts to laugh.  Instantly, as if he’s been trying to hold it in and she’s just given him permission he never expected to get, he bursts out laughing, too.  And that’s when they hug.  

In the few weeks they knew each other before he died, Kaitlyn and Mike had been plenty close a few times. But they’d never just hugged. Kaitlyn decides she’s glad about that. She’s glad she didn’t know how overwhelmingly good it is to be hugged by this huge, warm guy who smells like soap and masculinity, especially when he’s still laughing a little bit and she can feel it, deep and low in his chest, against her.  He’s big.  She’s forgotten how just plain big Mike is.  She’s standing on her tiptoes and she feels like he’s surrounding her.  She thinks hugging this man might just become her new obsession.

Kaitlyn can’t think of any words to say, and apparently Mike can’t, either.  Maybe there just aren’t any, or maybe there’s no reason to say anything.  So they just hug and laugh a little and Kaitlyn turns her head into Mike’s neck and just breathes him in, dimly aware of the lovely fact that he’s got his face buried in her hair.  It goes on so long that Chief Dodds is in the kitchen putting a pot of water on for the noodles by the time they relax their hold on one another.  They stand together, her hands on his shoulders and his on her waist, just looking at each other.

“You OK?”  Mike asks tenderly.

Kaitlyn huffs a little laugh.  It takes her a moment, shaking her head and making a face, before she says, “I don’t know what I am.  I just know how happy I am to see you.”

“You, too.  I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” She sighs.  “And I need to tell you I’m sorry.  About the way I treated you.  The things I said.  I screwed up, Mike.  And I don’t just mean because Susan’s all over the internet enslaving poor what’s-his-name.  I knew it before that.  I’m sorry.”

“You’re seriously apologizing to me right now?  When I made you go to my funeral?”  

“You didn’t do that.  You didn’t have any more choice than the rest of us.”  Suddenly, she’s holding him again, and he’s holding her back just as tightly.

When they finally relax and step apart a little, Mike asks if she’s hungry, tilting his head a little toward the tiny kitchen where Mike’s dad is trying his best to be invisible. It’s only then that Kaitlyn realizes there’s a wonderful smell of cooking in the air.  

“Spaghetti,” Mike says proudly.  

“It’s the only thing he knows how to make,” the Chief says laughingly, unable to stop himself.

“Spaghetti sounds good.” Kaitlyn beams up at Mike.  “And it smells wonderful.”

Mike starts toward the kitchen and Kaitlyn sees that Chief Dodds has a dishtowel around his waist for an apron and his shirtsleeves rolled up.  It’s kind of adorable, and she appreciates how discreet he’s been, letting her and Mike greet each other however they needed to.  She stands watching as Mike opens a bottle of wine and the Chief puts together garlic bread.  For a moment, she just watches Mike – the play of muscles beneath his T-shirt, the way his hair falls over his eyes just a little – and realizes that she hadn’t been romanticizing his memory.  He really is that good looking.  She realizes something else, too.  She wants him bad, but raging desire aside, she likes him much, much more than she ever knew.  

Mike’s poured three glasses of wine, but the Chief shoos him out of the kitchen and tells him to go get re-acquainted with Kaitlyn while he finishes dinner.  Mike doesn’t argue.  He takes two of the glasses and settles on the couch with her, then holds up his glass.

“What are we drinking to?”

“Hmmmmm.  Well, L’chaim seems appropriate, but maybe resurrection might be closer to the mark,” Kaitlyn grins.

Mike looks skeptical. “Uhhhh, I only know of one guy who did that, and I’m sure the hell not Him.  Let’s stick with L’chaim.”  

His words are light, but his expression and his tone tell Kaitlyn that, whatever demons he’s been wrestling with, the match isn’t over yet.  She decides it’s way too early in their reunion to get into that unless he wants to, and he doesn’t seem to want to.  So she changes the subject.

“How much are you allowed to tell me about where you’ve been?”

“Nothing,” he frowns. “Can’t tell you where I was, or what I was doing, and I don’t even really know exactly who I was working for, although I know they were the good guys.  All I can tell you is, I’m proud of what I was doing.  What we got done.”

Kaitlyn smiles at Mike. “I know Rangers don’t say ‘Hooah’, but it seems appropriate.  There’s no doubt in my mind you were doing something great.”

He’s so damn adorable when he blushes and looks down like that!  Kaitlyn asks what the Chief has told him about how things have been in New York while he’s been gone.  She finds some amusing stories about things his dad has done and said that he hasn’t yet heard, and she tells Mike how kind Sonny Carisi had been to her at his funeral. It’s skirting a tough subject that’s best left alone for a while, but it is a nice story, and he seems pleased to hear it.  

“That sounds like Carisi,” he says, smiling quietly.  “He’s a good guy.  I’m lookin’ forward to seeing him.”

“He called me, you know,” Kaitlyn tells him.  “The day the squad was told you’re alive.  He called to see if I was all right, and we spent half an hour basically saying nothing but ‘holy shit’.”

“He would.  He sound like he’s handling it OK?”

“Oh, yeah.  He was ecstatic.  Apparently, Barba practically had to breathe into a paper bag, and I think being there for Rafael kind of forced Sonny to just focus on the positive.”

“He’d do that anyway.  He’s never down for long.”

Mike reaches over and takes Kaitlyn’s hand.  “You look good,” he says softly.

“You do, too.”  Before giving it a thought, Kaitlyn reaches over and cups a hand over his cheek, rubbing it back and forth on his scruff.  “This works for you.”

Mike laughs.  “It’s actually not a fashion statement.  I just couldn’t be bothered when they won’t let me go anywhere.”  

“Now, that’s just rude,” the Chief says, surprising them.  Kaitlyn’s been so focused on Mike that she had completely forgotten he was there, even though he’s been bustling around the kitchen and he set the table on the other side of the room they were sitting in.  “You knew you were going to see Kaitlyn tonight.  You could’ve shaved.”

Mike dips his head in acknowledgement.  “I should have.  I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.  I told you, I like it.”

“Anyway,” Chief Dodds says, “Dinner’s ready.”

Mike and Kaitlyn get up from the couch and make their way over to the table.  Mike is the first to notice.

“Dad, you only set two places.”

“I know.  I’m not staying.”

“What?”  Kaitlin exclaims.  “Why not?”

“Because I was only here in case things were awkward.  They’re not. And I was actually texting with Olivia Benson while the noodles cooked, and we’re going to meet at Maxwell’s for a drink. So you two are on your own.”  

He looks entirely too pleased with himself, but Kaitlyn can’t find any room in her heart to hold it against him.  Mike doesn’t look at all unhappy, either.  

“You sure?  I made tons of spaghetti,” he urges.

“Son, I’m thrilled to have you back, and Kaitlyn, you know I like you.  But I’d rather have a drink with a beautiful woman than hang out here and be a third wheel with you kids.”

Kaitlyn notices that he’s removed the dishtowel from his waist and rolled down his sleeves.  She smiles happily as she hugs him.  “Thank you, Sir.  For being here.  It helped me be less nervous.”  

Mike hugs him, too, and sees him to the door.  “Have a good time,” he says to his father, a teasing lilt in his voice.

“You too, Son,” the Chief answers, and he’s not teasing at all.

Mike and Kaitlyn sit down together at the table.  It’s far more comfortable than Kaitlyn would ever have hoped in her anxiety-ridden daydreams about this dinner.  The excellent wine the Chief brought and the surprisingly good food help.  

“Mmmm.  If you only know how to cook one thing, I’m glad it’s this good.”

“I can cook other things, that was just Dad giving me shit.”

“Really?  What’s your specialty?”

“Well, OK, my specialty happens to be spaghetti.  But I also make a mean baloney sandwich.  And no one makes better mac & cheese from a box.”

“Ooh.  So if this whole cop thing doesn’t work out…”

“Right.  I’m opening a restaurant.”

The rest of the meal is fun and easy.  They talk the whole time, learning about each other and laughing more than not.  

“You know what I just realized?”  Kaitlyn wears a complex smile.

“What?”

“This is the most you and I have ever talked to each other.  Before, we didn’t… do much talking.”

She doesn’t know how Mike manages it, but his smile is both a little shy and a little suggestive.  “I guess that’s right.  C’mon.  We can talk while we do the dishes.  I’m afraid this palace doesn’t feature a dishwasher.”

While they clear the table and wash the dishes, they talk about Mike’s plans to return to SVU and to choose his own apartment.  He has no idea who picked this place, but he doesn’t like it much.  That conversation leads to more somber topics, so that by the time they’re once again sitting together on the couch, sipping the last of the wine, Mike is sharing some of the things he’s currently dealing with.  Kaitlyn listens sympathetically, although she has no experience from which to draw any wisdom.  

“I wish I knew something comforting to say.  I guess once you’re back to work, and you have your friends around you again, less time to just sit around and think…”

“Yeah.  I know you’re right.  It’s nice just being here with you.  I mean, my dad’s great and all, but he’s only one person.  And he’s nowhere near as cute as you are.”

Kaitlyn is sure she’s blushing.  “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.  Anything.”

“Do you…  I mean, I know I messed everything up before.  I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to just forget it ever happened.  But if not, if you maybe wanted to…  Would you want to maybe go out with me sometime?”  

She can see he has to stifle a laugh at that.  “You sure you wanna be seen with a dead guy?”

“Well, if you start to, like, decompose, we’ll have to re-negotiate. But you look pretty good right now.”

“So do you.”

The look he gives her turns her insides to hot mush.  Kaitlyn has no idea she’s leaning over to kiss Mike until he meets her halfway and she finds her lips pressed to his.  But it’s a different kiss than they’ve ever shared before.  Slower, quieter, a destination in itself.  He doesn’t move closer to her, but remains sitting next to her, at a bit of an angle, with only their knees touching.  

“Yeah,” he breathes.  “I’d like to go out with you.  I’d love the chance to do it right.”

“Yeah.  No dying this time.”  Kaitlyn enjoys their laughter at that, but she kind of regrets killing the romantic mood that was building.  

Mike sighs and lays his head back.  “Shit, Kaitlyn, this whole thing’s been such a mind fuck.  I feel really adrift right now.  Like I’m half him still, and half me.  I know that sounds really stupid.”

“No. You’ve been him for almost a year. You had no contact with anyone who knows Mike.  It makes perfect sense.”

“It feels like shit.”

“What can I do?  How can I help?”

Mike takes a deep breath and lets it out.  “I don’t know.”  He lifts his head and looks at her.  “Hold me, maybe?”

Kaitlyn’s closed the space between them and scooted her arms around him before he takes his next breath.  “Like this?”

Mike doesn’t answer, just sighs with what sounds like relief, and wraps her up, softly but securely squeezing her to him.  

“Did I ever tell you how good you smell?”  Kaitlyn asks.

“Uh-uh.”  She feels him chuckle a little.

“Well, you do.  Really good.  I could hold you like this all day.”

For the next two hours, they’re together on Mike’s couch, talking quietly, bodies pressed together and arms entwined.  They smooch a few times, and Mike feels so good Kaitlyn really wants to start something, but she doesn’t.  She’s sure she could get Mike to cooperate, but it doesn’t seem like that’s what he needs from her right now.  He asked her to hold him, and that’s what she’s doing.  If he makes a move, she’s all over it, but just being close and learning about each other is really, really good, too.

Over time, they’ve migrated so that Mike is half-lying, with his legs hanging off the couch.  He’s holding Kaitlyn on his chest, her legs curled on the cushion behind his thighs.  She’s full, and warm, and comfortable, which means she yawns.  She feels him lift his head and look at her.

“You tired?  Or bored?”

Kaitlyn lifts her head, too, and meets his eyes.  “Definitely not bored.  I just worked all day, is all.  My boss is kind of a tyrant.”

“Sounds like a bastard,” he grins.

“He’s all right.  Gets me dates sometimes.  So there’s that.”

Mike smooths his hand over Kaitlyn’s hair, which she’s worn down because she thinks that’s how he likes it.  He sighs deeply.  “I don’t want to let you go home.”

She drops her chin to his chest.  “I don’t want to go home.”

“Then don’t.  Stay here, with me.  I’m not making a pass, I promise.  I just want you here.”

“I’d be OK with you making a pass, Mike.  But what I really want is just to be where you are.  I really missed you.”

Kaitlyn gives Mike a long kiss.  

*************

Mike likes lingerie.  He likes it a lot, actually.  But Kaitlyn in his Jets jersey is sexier than anything he’s ever seen in a Victoria’s Secret catalog.  And the best part is, she seems to understand that he just wants to snuggle together. It’s been forever since he hasn’t slept alone – in fact, for a whole lot of reasons, Kaitlyn’s the last woman he slept with – and right now, what he needs more than anything is the pure, simple warmth and security of feeling her breathing next to him.  She’s soft in all the right places, and he definitely wants to slide his hands inside the jersey, but he doesn’t.  Based on the way she keeps starting to slide her hands over his chest, and then stopping herself, he thinks maybe he should have worn a shirt with the soft shorts he’s wearing, because she might be feeling the same.  

Mostly, he thinks she’s as happy as he is to be cuddled together in each other’s arms, and it’s not long before he falls into the quietest, deepest sleep he’s had since the day he was shot.

The morning is a different story.  They wake up with their limbs as tightly wrapped around each other as ever. Mike finds that his hands, of their own accord, have found their way inside the jersey Kaitlyn’s wearing.  She doesn’t seem to mind, given that her back’s pressed up against his chest, and she’s moving with him as he grinds against her backside.  Oops. He stops rubbing his half-hard cock against her just long enough to kiss the back of her neck where it’s right in front of his lips.  When she shivers and gives a soft moan, he starts again and moves his hands the rest of the way onto her breasts.

Kaitlyn slides a hand up Mike’s thigh to his buttock and turns her head enough that she can kiss him, although it’s an awkward angle.  Pretty soon, though, he’s fully hard and she turns around in his arms.  Their kisses this morning are much more intimate and intrusive than the night before. If she’d kissed him like this then, they definitely wouldn’t be wearing clothes now.  Which, he thinks, is something he really wants to change.  He reaches for the hem of her jersey and gets a jolt of electricity when she lifts her arms to help him take it off her.  Then he removes her panties and his shorts, and she moves to press the length of their bodies together as they kiss.

It’s different this time.  They’re moving more slowly, and taking time to make sure they’re making each other feel good, touching and stroking.  Mike pulls Kaitlyn on top of him and she moves against him, rubbing his body with hers, making sure to slide along his cock as she does, until he puts a hand on each hip and purposely positions her where he wants her.

She’s happy to give him what he wants, and she’s deliciously hot and wet, although he notices that she takes her time, working him in inch by inch, sliding up and down his shaft and taking a little more of him each time until he’s buried in her.  It’s the slowest they’ve ever fucked, and it goes on for a very long time.  After an eternity of her moving over him, he rolls them over and thrusts into her for a while, and they’re sitting up with her straddling his lap by the time they finally get serious about making each other come.  When they do, they’re looking at each other, with what are probably unconscionably gooey smiles, but it’s entirely right in the moment.  

Kaitlyn’s almost half asleep again, paying little attention to the way Mike’s moving because she assumes he’s just stretching, until she hears him speak.

“Hey, Dad, it’s me.”  There’s a silence.  “Good. Great.  But I’m afraid Kaitlyn’s not going to make it in to work today. Some kinda flu or something.”  

Kaitlyn’s eyes are open now.  

“Yeah, I’m sure she’ll be fine.  Probably a twenty-four hour thing.  Maybe forty-eight.  I’ll let you know.”  There’s another silence, after which Mike laughs a little.  “OK.  Thanks, Dad. See you.”

Mike touches the screen of his phone with his thumb and tosses it onto his bedside table.  He turns to look at Kaitlyn lying in the crook of his arm looking at him with an amused frown.  

“He says you’re fired, and he’ll see you Thursday.”

Kaitlyn thought she was worn out for the moment, but as soon as Mike starts kissing her and touching her again, she catches a second wind.  

[elinorsmuses]

Two Letters and a Text (for @victorious-sigyn

1.

Dear Sig,

Hey Sig. I don’t write letters much, but I had to find a way to get in touch with you. Can’t even send this through the damn post office. I don’t know if work is reading my mail, but I would be if I were them. I’m going to see if I can strong arm Chris into giving this to you. I think he’s supposed to be down here for some kind of joint operations meeting in a few weeks.

Sig, the DSO--that’s who I work for, by the way. The United States Department of Security Operations. They’re investigating me because of what happened in Guadalajara. That’s fine. I expected it. I’ll be fine. But I won’t be able to be in touch until it’s over. If they see me keeping an eye on you, they might get the wrong idea and think that I sent you to the BSAA on purpose. Might think I got too attached. I told them that we got separated and you ran into the BSAA first, but I understand why they’re suspicious. 

Listen, nothing bad is going to happen to me, even if the investigation concludes that I disobeyed orders. But it’ll be better if they don’t. It’ll be easier for me to see you if they don’t. My line of work, you get out and they start to get worried you’re going to be a “national security risk,” and then they get cranky about international travel, even if it’s Toronto.

I heard you’re in Toronto, by the way. Like I said, I can’t keep an eye on you--and fuck, Sig, I’ve been worried sick--but Claire told Sherry that you’re in Toronto and Sasha’s taking care of you. That’s good. He’s a good man. But if he gives you any trouble, just tell him I’ll kick his ass if he’s not nice to you.

Alright, I’ll get to the point. I had to find a way to get in touch with you because there wasn’t enough time to really explain in Guadalajara, and I need you to know why I did what I did. I know how you feel about me, and I don’t want you to think I sent you away because I don’t 

Remember I told you about meeting Claire and Sherry in Raccoon City? Well, once we got out of the city, it was early morning and I remember we were just walking down the train tracks, hoping to find someone to pick us up. But Claire had been in the city for a reason. She was looking for her brother--That’s Chris, who you’ve met by now, and why he was missing is a whole different story. But she needed to keep looking, so she left, and I told her I would take care of Sherry.

Not long after that, we got picked up by the government. I thought, great, we’re saved. And then they took Sherry. They took her away, and stuck me in a room with a one way mirror, and told me I was getting debriefed. But it was really an interrogation. They told me they could do whatever they wanted with me and Sherry. And it was true. No one knew we were alive, and neither of us had family to look. They told me they couldn’t let Sherry go. She had been exposed to the G-virus and the antidote, and since there were no other samples of the G  antidote...they kept her. The rest of her childhood and a while after that. It wasn’t a lab; they assigned her a guardian, but she didn’t get to go back to school. She was stuck with all sorts of medical tests to see how G affected her, and to try and reconstruct the antidote from her blood. It wasn’t right. 

As for me, I’d learned some stuff in Raccoon City that they didn’t want anyone to know. And since I was a cop--Raccoon City was supposed to be my first day on the job. So I had a little training, and they needed people with BOW experience, which was hard to come by, those days. So they made me an offer: work for them. This was before the DSO, way back in the early days when they were just forming a BOW task force. So I said yes. I don’t know what they would have done if I’d said no, but that wasn’t why I agreed. I promised Claire I would take care of Sherry, and it was the only way I could still see her.

When Sherry grew up, they gave her the same choice, and that’s why she’s an agent now. She might have signed up anyway, she’s that kind of woman. But she didn’t have the option. Listen, the people I work for, the U.S. government, the DSO--I believe in them. I think they do good in the world. But not everything they do is right. Before, when we both thought you couldn’t control the BOWs, I thought I could get you out. Maybe you’d be stuck in quarantine for a while, but I thought I’d be able to get you out. But after what I saw you could do...they’d never let power like that go. You didn’t have any status anywhere, citizenship, almost no one even knew you existed. I couldn’t protect you. I didn’t want you to be stuck with the same choice me and Sherry had. No choice at all.

The power you have could save lives during outbreaks and attacks, Sig, and maybe that’s something you’ll decide to do. Personally, I think this nightmare already had thirty years of your life, and that’s enough. Sig, I just wanted you to have the choice. I just wanted you to be free.

So that’s it. I know I put you through a lot of pain. I probably put you in more danger than you would have been if you’d stayed with me. I needed you to know why I did it. Now you do. I won’t be able to write again until the investigation is over, and these things drag. It’ll probably be a couple of months. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to try to write back, either. Don’t want to risk it. But listen, Sig, when this thing’s over I’m on the first flight to Toronto. First one. I swear.

I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.

-Leon

2.

Dear Sig,

This letter I’m not going to send. I just need to talk to someone, you know? It’s 3am. I just got back from the gym. My treadmill broke last night, but I’ve got a membership to this 24-hour place. All the equipment is purple. I was the only one there--ran about five miles. I’m really It helps me sleep. I’m really trying If I get myself tired enough, sometimes I don’t have the nightmares. Or I don’t remember in the morning. Better than

Sig I’m really trying not to drink. It feels easy at first. Have you ever had a drink? Maybe someone will take you out for one sometime. It feels easy at first. Just have a couple drinks, help me sleep. Then it’s a few more drinks, but the hangover--man, I’m probably going to miss your first hangover--it feels worth it. But then I wake up and I just start drinking again, and it’s not so easy. I’m really trying this time, Sig. When I see you again, I want to be the man you met in Mexico, not the one who chases his breakfast with vodka.

Sherry came over and took my vodka, anyway. And the whiskey. Glad she took the whiskey. It’s good stuff--wouldn’t want to waste it drinking myself to sleep because I miss

They got me stuck at a desk. Should be nice, right? Only way I might die at work is the commute. I can’t--I can’t stay still, Sig. Don’t know if I was always this way, or it’s the kind of life I’ve lived. I just--I run for miles. Run until I break my treadmill, right? Maybe it would be easier if I wasn’t in such good shape. I’ll start eating more donuts. I used to be a cop. Did I ever tell you that?

Sig I know how you feel about me. Or how you felt. I don’t want you to think I didn’t believe you or I didn’t think it was real because I told you to take some time. It’s real easy to fall in love when someone runs to your rescue, saves your life. There was this woman I wish I could have told you how I feel. I hope you could see it. I hope you knew. I keep wondering if I made a mistake, because I’m sitting here and I’m worried I’m afraid I’ll see you again and you’ll have realized it really was just some infatuation. Because I really hope it wasn’t. There have been a lot of nights when I wish I’d just kissed you, Sig.

I miss you, Sig. I just--I miss you.

3.

Text: [Buddy] The approved my leave. My flight leaves in 2 hrs. Be there at 2.

[sapphicscholar]

Pride Month Prompts Day 7: Underground (SuperLane)

From this Pride Month Prompts post! I’m taking the opportunity to write some short fics for a variety of pairings that I haven’t written for as much, maybe at all. They won’t be going on AO3, so I’ll be sure to tag them all with #pride month prompts so you can find them later if you want. 

Day 7: Underground

Pairing: SuperLane (Kara/Lucy) - another new one! (Set after Manhunter)

Perhaps taking off the helmets had been a bad idea. Scratch that: it was definitely a bad idea. But Kara had wanted to see Alex, had wanted Alex to know that she would always come for her, even if it meant stealing DEO property, shooting down a truck owned by the U.S. government, and freeing two supposed criminals being hauled away for treason. And seeing Alex’s reaction when she realized that Lucy had switched sides for them was pretty great too.

For a while, it seemed as if everything had gone fine. J’onn and Alex took off on the bikes, Kara flew Lucy back to the base, and they both acted surprised by the news of the escape (and were genuinely surprised by the news of Lucy’s promotion).

Neither of them took into account the fact that a vehicle headed for Cadmus would likely be equipped with multiple cameras sending live feed footage back to the military.

The following morning, a heavily armed squad showed up to arrest them both, and it was only Kara’s super hearing that gave her the extra few seconds she needed to swoop Lucy up in her arms and fly them both far away from the DEO and the military officials toting guns loaded with kryptonite-laced bullets.

Within a day, they’d gone completely underground. Kara was opposed to stealing, but she’d swept through stores faster than anyone could see, throwing money onto the counter in her wake. That was how they’d acquired a stockpile of food, new clothing, wigs for going out, and two burner phones that were being saved for an emergency. She’d also grabbed a few bottles of wine for Lucy, who had only recently reconciled herself to the idea of breaking the law and was looking a bit pale as the realization that she was a now a wanted fugitive with her own father hot on her heels sunk in.

On day 5, Kara finally got up the courage to apologize. “If I hadn’t...I should’ve made sure that we stayed covered, checked for any cameras.”

“It’s Cadmus, Kara. I’m sure they were livestreaming the footage.”

“Still. I could have kept them from knowing you were the person under the other helmet.”

But Lucy shook her head, rubbing at her temples before draining the rest of her plastic cup of wine. “Long term, this is the decision I’m proud of. I’ve pushed down a lot over the years, but I don’t think even a lifetime of practice at repressing shit would have been enough to keep away the guilt if I’d sent your sister and J’onn off to be tortured at Cadmus.”  She refilled her cup, frowning when the rest of the bottle only brought it up to two-thirds full. “So really, I’m the one that should be apologizing. You just pulled my head out of my ass long enough to see that I wasn’t living the kind of life I could be proud of.”

“Hey, no, I’m sure you’ve done some amazing things.”

Lucy snorted, something dark flashing across her features as her face twisted in disgust. “Like what? Break my ex’s heart because I’d rather hurt her...hurt us both, than risk a dishonorable discharge? Side with my father even as he got more and more bigoted just because every so often he’d pat me on the shoulder and tell me I made him proud? Come flying across the country to restart things with a guy only to break up with him all over again?”

“We’ve all done things we regretted. I’m pretty sure the whole world saw some of my worst choices splashed across newspapers and broadcast internationally just a few weeks ago.” She really wished wine did anything for her; it’d be nice to have something to dull the pain of the too fresh memories. “I also know a little bit about not wanting to believe that a parent could be so wrong about something, about waiting too late to realize there are two sides to every story.” She swallowed the tears that threatened to fall. “But Lucy? You’ve done a lot of things to be proud of.”

“I don’t know. Maybe. It’s hard to believe it these days.”

In a split second, Kara decided to start listing things, as many as she could think of, anything to make that look of sadness, of self-loathing disappear. “You’re a freakin’ major in the Army, which means, like, a lot of people have recognized what a badass you are. And you have grad degrees from Harvard. And you’re super great at Taboo and Charades and Pictionary. And you were willing to put everything on the line once you’d realized you’d made a mistake, which is almost better than just never making mistakes. Because you care, you cared enough to fix it.” She took a deep breath in. “Also you offer great legal advice. And those cookies you made for game night were so good; I ate half of them when you weren’t looking. And you won over Cat Grant in, like, two seconds flat, which, let me tell you, isn’t easy! And you always smell really nice, even at the end of the day, and you’ve got such great hair, like seriously great hair.”

Lucy looked over at her, some emotion swirling in her eyes that Kara didn’t recognize. “You know that the things you did while drugged don’t magically undo all the good you’ve done for the world, right?”

“Oh please, weren’t you the one saying Supergirl didn’t exactly measure up to expectations?”

Lucy ducked her head. “Might have had a bit more to do with jealousy than anything else.”

Kara’s eyebrows shot up at that. “Jealousy?” Lucy had the guy and the job and Cat’s attention. What could she have been jealous of?

“Seriously? You have superpowers, Kara. And a sister who would do anything for you, and this whole group of friends who adore you. Even when James was talking about finding apartments with me to really make things work, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. And, to make it all worse, I couldn’t even blame him because you’re fucking gorgeous!” With a huff of bitter laughter, Lucy pulled herself to her feet, swaying slightly—the first sign that the bottle of wine might have affected her. “I should… Night, Kara.”

---

After that night, things seemed easier between them. The guilt and apologies and bad memories had been excised, leaving room for something new to grow between them. Slowly but surely, they began opening up, sharing stories of growing up and years in school and awkward dates. Kara talked about the things she’d had the hardest time getting used to on Earth, and Lucy admitted that she hadn’t thought about how difficult it must be for aliens. She’d moved a lot as an Army brat, having to switch schools constantly, but even during the awkwardness of middle school, at least she’d always known how to speak the language, had a vague sense of what social life would be like, knew what would be taught in her classes and the kinds of clubs that would be offered.

One night, after a glass or two of wine, Lucy opened up to Kara about coming out, not that she’d had too many people in her life she’d been able to tell. Kara admitted that she hadn’t realized it was such a big deal on Earth until she’d asked Alex if she was courting her best friend Vicki and been swiftly and promptly kicked out of their shared bedroom for hours, not let back in until Eliza had demanded that Alex unlock the door for bedtime.

---

On day 18, they woke up to news that all of National City’s residents had been turned into automatons with the exception of Max Lord, who’d published statements about alien threats and how proud he was to be a human who had prepared for this, who had known from the beginning not to trust them, and Cat Grant, who’d posted a very public call for Supergirl to return from hiding and a plea that the government grant her amnesty.

“You’re going, aren’t you?” Lucy asked.

“I have to. National City...no matter what happened or how many people have decided I belong in prison, it’s still my city. They’re still the people I’ve sworn to protect.”

“Be safe.”

“I will.”

“I mean it. I”—Lucy swallowed heavily as she reached out a hand, grabbing one of Kara’s and holding it tight enough for her to feel it—“I want you to come back to me alive.”

And there it was again, that frisson of something that had been crackling between them for so many days now. Only this time Kara didn’t mumble a quick “goodnight” and speed off to her corner of the decrepit old cabin they’d moved into after the first week. Instead, she held Lucy’s gaze and raised a hand to Lucy’s face, sweeping her thumb across Lucy’s cheekbone. “I promise.”

Lucy was the one to lean forward, but Kara wasn’t sure who it was that actually started the kiss. All she knew was that there were soft, warm lips pressed against her own, and if she’d thought she wanted to date Lucy before because she smelled amazing, well, now she knew she wanted to date Lucy and for so many more reasons. But eventually, the reality of everything happening in National City, the hurried phone calls to J’onn and Alex, the continued broadcasts being sent out by Cat, all caught up to them.

“If you can find a way for me to come back within city limits, you’ll call?” Lucy gestured at their one safe burner phone left, and Kara nodded.

A few moments later, they heard the soft thud outside the door that signalled J’onn and Alex’s arrival.

“I should be fighting by your side,” Alex was already arguing as she and J’onn made their way inside.

“I won’t be able to stay focused if I’m shielding your mind.”

“I swear, if we can get into the DEO and get our hands on your prototypes, we’ll be back in an instant, okay?” Kara promised.

“Fine. In the meantime, I’m trying to see if I can’t bypass some DEO security protocols while everyone there is out of commission. I can only imagine that Non is going to want some of our prisoners back, so I’ll try to secure the system from external interference.”

While J’onn was busy talking to Alex, Lucy squeezed Kara’s hand again. “Come back, alright? We’ve got a kiss to finish.”

Kara grinned. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

[tervacious]

“How did things get so bad so fast?”

That’s the summary of a question I had today irl, about the conditions in which migrants here in the United States are being held, and their treatment at the hands of CBP and other government entities.  This was in response to not just the pictures that came out thanks to congresspeople actually doing their goddamned jobs for once, but also the ProPublica article about the secret Border Patrol Facebook page from hell.

I mean, the answer to that question is pretty obvious.  Everyone has decided to tolerate prisons and jails in the U.S., for decades, with conditions every bit as vile or worse than these places, and with guards every bit as vile or worse as these fucks who will, yes, most likely get away with all of this.  Because, you know, people who end up in prisons and jails are BAD, they broke the law, they shouldn’t expect anyone to treat them even professionally, much less WELL.  Why would we coddle murderers and rapists, we say, even though most people aren’t in prison for murder or rape, especially when you talk about women in prison.  Because it’s coddling to, you know, NOT batter and abuse and humiliate and underfeed people, it’s coddling to NOT stick 100 people in a space meant for 25, it’s coddling to give another human being clean water.

On the one hand I know a lot of people have no idea what prison is like, again, especially for women.  A lot of people seem pretty convinced that we don’t throw CHILDREN into ACTUAL prisons, even though juvenile “detention” (there’s that word again) is Actual Fucking Prison, with actual fucking children.  And of course most people think anyone who ends up in a prison deserves to be there in the first place-- so whatever  happens in there, it’s cool.  They shouldn’t have broken the law, no matter how “breaking the law” is defined, no matter how stupid or wrong those laws are, and let’s not forget to say how it’s certainly unlucky that a FEW innocent people end up behind bars, but with all the bad ones in there, I mean, takes a few eggs to make a frittata, right?  We’d better stop people seeking legal refuge in “our” country, because there might be a drug dealer in there somewhere, so it’s all good.  It’s exactly the same logic.  Better sweep this neighborhood in case some guy has an illegal gun in his pants, let’s just arrest everyone for anything, let god sort ‘em out.

This isn’t to derail what is happening on the U.S. border.  But what is happening there didn’t just appear suddenly in this the third year of the reign of Donald Trump.  No only were private companies already making bank off of this horror during the Obama administration, but this didn’t all start happening in a vacuum.  Our whole society is obsessed with incarceration.  Did everyone really think it wouldn’t spill over?  It’s already done spilled over-- there are entire communities, all of them poverty stricken, mainly communities of color, decimated by this shit.  And believe me, it is every bit as bad in a prison or jail or juvenile prison as the pictures show these concentration camps are.

Then you have the guards and their porn-fueled rape fantasies, and a private page for over nine THOUSAND people not just tolerating this, but cheering it on.  And it wasn’t reported by any of those nine THOUSAND people, that this was going on.  There was no whistleblower, as far as I can tell.  Maybe I’m wrong.  Maybe ProPublica did find a single decent person in that cesspool who broke ranks and showed them this shit.  But I doubt it.  Do you think those same guards aren’t in prisons, private and state and fed, all across this country?  You think porn and rape fantasies don’t drive the fact most female prisoners will be sexually degraded, mocked, often assaulted and raped, not by other inmates but by male prison guards?  These things are all connected.  And I’m not even touching on race here, because quite frankly the race of the primarily male guards and the race of the female prisoners are often the same.  It’s not about race in many cases.  It’s about men.  And it’s about the culture prison itself creates.  The ultimate patriarchal construct.

This is why I can’t with carceral “feminists”.  Nothing exists in a magical vacuum in which only the guilty and only the rapists and murderers are punished and always punished correctly and fairly and the punishment actually works.  That is not a thing.  It doesn’t work ever.  It doesn’t work, period.  It has never worked and never will.  It takes a real lack of imagination and decency to think this is the only way to do things.

So anyway, that’s how things got so bad.  It wasn’t fast at all.  It’s been going on for decades.

[tessatechaitea]

New Titans #114

This is it! The last regular issue of this comic that I own!

I guess the changing of the guard leaving Arsenal in charge was the last straw for me. Or maybe the last straw was that Pantha's tail hole on her shorts never ripped so that I could see her butthole. One of those two reasons is definitely why I stopped buying this comic though. This issue is called "24 Hours" which makes me think of Gaiman's The Sandman which makes me think, "Why the fuck am I rereading this shit when I could be rereading that shit?!" Oh wait! I actually know the reason for this! It's because these Titans comic books were stored in a big old regular sized moving box that I wanted to get out of the way! Also I've reread The Sandman and I've never reread this. And since I'll be fifty in a little over two years, I should probably get all of the stupid time-wasting bullshit ideas out of my head now. Any writing projects I can't finish by the time I'm fifty, I'm abandoning. At that time, I'll just make up new ones that will only entertain me and a few other people. So if I've ever said anything in passing about something I was going to do, like finishing the Goggles Futures End story or my Fantastickal Fuck-Fighting Books, you'd better get your vote in now! The issue begins at midnight with Changeling getting his ass beat by a dark silhouette who claims Changeling promised to "end her living days." I don't know who that might be or why this is happening. With Zero Hour beginning right around this time, my comic books might become complete nonsense. I just have to hope the comic books involved in that non-crisis-labeled crisis will have "Zero Hour Tie-in" labels on the front. I probably don't understand what's going on in this one because Marv Wolfman is being artsy. And fuck if I know anything about art! I read comic books for a reason, people! At 1:10 AM, Starfire flies around wondering if Earth is really her home. Yes, it takes six panels for her to ask that question. But she's also being artsy in a poetic way! She uses phrases like "scarlet sea" and "delicious nectar" and "golden skies." It's almost as if somebody scoffed at Marv Wolfman when he mentioned he wrote comic books earlier in the week and he thought, "I'll show them!" Then he was all, "Hey! That issue by that new kid Gaiman was kind of artsy! It had those clocks that showed what time it is and the whole thing took place in only 24 hours and it was all filmed in real time although with all the cuts from one character to another, why did it even fucking matter? Oh wait, it's only 1994! I don't know who Jack Bauer is yet!" At 3:36 AM, Pantha breaks into somebody's apartment. Supposedly it's the person who changed her from a person into a cat or from a cat into a person. But it isn't so Pantha gets to scream in existential angst which is the only cathartic release available to those of us who know nothing has any meaning and all of our clothes need to be tailored so the tail can stick out of them. At 4:10 AM, Dick Grayson proves he's a master of disguise by first being unrecognizable and then being unrecognizable in a different way.

A true master of disguise! He's already showing hints of his ability to be Agent 37 of Spyral.

Notice how the panels are all wonky in the previous scan? I'm sure Marv Wolfman put a note in the script to the artist: "We're being artsy this issue! Art it up!" At 5:20 AM, we finally learn what happened to Deathwing. I don't mean we get an explanation of what Mirage did to him and why he doesn't have testicles anymore. We just see that he's making an appearance so that the audience can go, "Oh, that fuckbunny isn't dead? Great." The silhouette from earlier has dragged Changeling into Deathwing's bachelor pad. She's still just a dark profile but she mentions that Changeling is probably strong enough to accept her seed so it must be Raven. I guess being a demon from a dimension of empaths means you don't learn about the birds and the bugs. Unless this answers a question I'm sure I asked much earlier! Changeling can turn into a female version of any species! And Raven squirts semen because, well, she's Trigon's daughter. At 6:05 AM, Arsenal goes jogging with Bill Clinton. Clinton messes up Sergeant Steel's plans to manipulate the Titans into working for the government by telling Roy that he wants the Titans to be completely independent but he hopes that they'll work with the government. This plot point feels like Marv worked himself into a story arc that he didn't want to pursue any more. It's not like the DC Universe needed another team working on behalf of the U.S. government. At 6:15 AM, Garfield Logan finally gets laid.

Okay, maybe he doesn't get laid. But he definitely comes in his pants.

Do you think Marv Wolfman was in the shower when he thought, "Comic books have 24 pages. There are 24 hours in a day. Hey! I should steal an idea from Neal Gaiman!" At 7:43 AM, Nightwing crashes through a skylight. Just like Batman taught him! I can hear Bruce now: "Good job, Dick! Now they'll have to call Wayne Skylight and Window Repair! Another payday for the Batman!" At 9:00 AM (Eastern Time, Planet Earth, Sol System), Jarras Minion of some planet in the Alpha Centauri system watches his entire race disintegrate before his eyes. Probably a symptom of Zero Hour! At 10:05 AM, Nightwing declares, "I'm not a doctor! I just feel like a doctor!" It's his philosophical explanation for why he doesn't use lethal force. It totally makes sense because Nightwing still punches the shit out of people just like how doctor's love to give shots and cut people open. At 11:20 AM, Changeling begs to remain a virgin. He escapes but he has some missing time so he might also be pregnant. I guess I'll never know unless he starts showing in 24 hours! Or I'm curious enough to go buy some back issues. Ha ha! That was a joke! I have no curiosity. Page 12 is noon, of course! Nightwing has lunch with a detective because Dick Grayson had the fear of Alfred beaten into him about sitting down promptly at noon for the midday meal. Twenty-four hours for Dick Grayson went like this: 9 PM - 4 AM: Risk life with grown ass adult man in bat costume. 4 AM - 8 AM: Sleep. 8 AM - 9 AM: Waffles. 9 AM - 12 PM: Training. 12 PM - 1 PM: Cucumber sandwiches. 1 PM - 5 PM: Study time. 5 PM - 6 PM: Tea. 6 PM - 9 PM: Try to evade Bruce and Alfred as Dick finds a quiet spot to masturbate. At 1:30 PM, Roy has coffee with Steel. The government's final offer to the Titans: the government gives the Titans the Terraist's satellite, an Earthbound base, and money to pay off any lawsuits against the Titans and in return, the Titans promise to consider missions for the United States. What a terrible deal for the government! The Titans can just turn down every mission and the United States gets nothing for their investment. There must be a loophole. Steel reminds Roy, "You gotta decide fast!" As if it wasn't the easiest deal in the world to say yes to! At 2:25 PM (Eastern Time, Planet Earth, Sol System), Jarras roleplays Kal-el's early days. As his world is destroyed (along with some visiting Darkstars), Jarras escapes in a pod called the Omegadrone. It's both an escape pod and a weapon! I don't remember the character Minion at all. Probably because this was the last Titans comic I read for decades. At 3:55 PM, Wolfman reveals that Red Star has taken a job as a mall security cop. And I guess a babysitter as well since Baby Wildebeest is hanging out with him. At 4:10 PM, Roy Harper signs the contract with the government even though he knows it's going to blow up in his face. Fucking leftist comic book writers, portraying the United States government as underhanded, manipulative bastards who don't give a shit who they hurt to get what they want! At 5:20 PM, a bunch of Darkstars are killed by the rainbow spiral that destroyed Jarras's planet. The populace of the planet had been bred to be passive. So I guess the moral of this story is that hippie beatnik pacifists are only asking for trouble. Fucking right wing comic book writers! Well, at least Jarras has learned the lesson that peace is for dead people. The Omegadrone will teach him how to get revenge. At 6:03 PM, Roy thinks he's going to get Wally West to join his government Titans team but he's really going to get Impulse. I know that because I looked at the future roster of this team: Arsenal, Damage, Impulse, Mirage, and Terra. No wonder I stopped reading it! At 7:32 PM, Nightwing takes a shower. Naked! I know that's how most people take showers and I probably didn't need to emphasize it but he also jerks off so maybe I should have started with that.

DC canon: Dick Grayson jerks off thinking about puns.

And after he finishes.

At 8:54 PM, Dick Grayson turns in his resignation to Roy Harper. He's officially off the Titans! Good riddance, ya dumb jerk! If that even is you. Try looking more like Dick Grayson next issue, Dick Grayson! At 9:20 PM, Red Star, Pantha, and Baby quit the Titans as well. Then they go on a romantic road trip which DC apparently didn't publish. There's an advert in this issue for a Green Arrow story arc called "Cross Roads" that the copy compares to Knightfall and which nobody fucking remembers (probably!) but DC never published a Red Star/Pantha team-up?! No, they were right. Just as I was typing that, I was thinking, "Fuck, I would never have purchased that shit." At 10:10 PM, Changeling agrees to stick with the Titans. But he's full of Raven's disgusting seed, so he'll probably just turn on them immediately. At 11:05 PM, Dick and Kory break-up. But not in person! Dick waits for her to arrive to a dinner where he can dump her but Kory knows better and just flies into outer space. I don't remember what happens with her but it's probably super boring. I'm sure she goes home, fights with Blackfire, fights some Gordanians or whatever dumb race always enslaved the Tamaraneans, and then remembers why she moved to Earth in the first place. At midnight, Phantasm arrives to lead Harper and Logan into Damage #6. And then into Titans Zero Hour! Oh. So I guess I do have one more issue of this story arc to read: New Titans #0. I also have a Titans Elseworld Annual in the stack. Plus a Team Titans Elseworld Annual and one more Team Titans issue. And finally, before I can totally move on, Deathstork #0! New Titans #114 Rating: C. The one hour per page gimmick really helps Marv Wolfman clean up a bunch of loose ends to get the Titans ready for a big group change in Zero Hour. Plus he was able to shove in the Minion origin story (which was really just Superman's origin). And I usually give the art a pass even when it's not very good (and I often ignore it when it's great!) but holy Lobo's bulging crotch, it was fucking terrible this issue. It was so bad that I'm not even going to remember who the artist was so that I don't have to feel embarrassed for them.

[collapsethis]

Far Cry 5 Deputy Ask Meme

Name: Giselle Fontaine/ Kassandra Stathi

Height: 5’ 4”

Hair: Shoulder length dark brown hair

Eye Color: Gray

Skin color: Tan with freckles

Age: 28

Gender: Female, she/her pronouns

Sexuality: Bisexual

1. How did they end up at the Hope County Sheriff’s Department? How long have they worked there?

Before Hope county Giselle was apart of an underground para-military group that spanned the globe that was formed after the U.S dropped the bombs on Japan to try and slow the creation or more bombs by other governments. It was a small group at first but gained steam during the Cold War. Giselle’s parents were both agents who would go “on vacation” for a few months in another part of the world to steal info on the nuclear programs of various countries. She joined when she was a teenager. Unfortunately, after one job she caught the attention of a serial killer who was a former agent. He kidnapped her but she escaped. Her handler in the organization decided to fake her death and move her to safe place. He sent her to Hope County because Dutch was apart of the group in his youth and is the only one who knows the truth.

2. Relationship with Pratt, Hudson, and Whitehorse?

She has a professional relationship with the others in the Sheriff’s department because she is still adjusting to her new life. She feels a bit bad about lying to them.

3. Do they have an education?

She was homeschooled by her parents both of whom were professors before joining the organization, was trained by the organization in various espionage skills and sciences, is an excellent hacker.

4. Where are they from? Did they speak a different language there?

Was born in Alabama to a Louisiana French mother with a deep southern accent and a Greek father. She knows English, Spanish,French (both the original French dialect and the Creole version spoken in the deep south) also knows Greek and a smattering of Italian from her time in the org.

5. Is there anyone outside the valley that might have come looking for them?

The serial killer that kidnapped her tried to “reclaim” her when she was in the hospital after she escaped and tried to grab her again before she “died” and came to Montana. She and Dutch are both preparing for when he finds her.

6. Did they have a religious background of any kind?

Wasn’t particularly religious, was raised on the belief that the only way for humanity to survive and thrive is to support and protect the ones that can’t protect themselves. She was raised on the idea that sometimes you have to eliminate a threat to protect others. But when she was escaping from the serial killer she had an experience that makes her believe more of what Josephs been saying than she lets on.

1. What was going through their head when the helicopter went down and during the subsequent chase?

She was thinking about how her handler told her that hope county was supposed to be calm, supposed to be her “retirement”

2. Were they afraid of Joseph and Eden’s Gate? Angry?

She wasn’t afraid so much as sad that someone who had obviously been through so much was choosing to spread that pain around instead of helping people.

3. Did they trust Dutch?

Dutch is the only one in the county that she really trusts. He was apart of the same group as her and is the only one that knows that truth about her.

4. How did they feel about their team being taken by the cult, did they count them as lost, did they want them back, did they not care?

Due to her upbringing there was no way she was going to leave them in the Seeds’ hands. She also feel responsible because with all her training she still didn’t see this coming.

5. How did they take to the idea of being part of, if not leading, the resistance?

She loves the resistance. She helps them whenever she can. She tries to turn them more towards saving other people and helping the county rather than focused on revenge on the Seeds.

6. Which companions did they recruit, and who did they travel with the most?

She travels mostly with Grace, she loves her quiet support, as Giselle tends towards rambling. She also fucking loves Boomer and takes him everywhere.

7. Did they have time to find romance amidst the chaos? How did they do it?

She doesn’t intentionally romance anyone. But, shit happens.

8. Feelings about Joseph?

She feels empathy for Joseph, for what he and his siblings have gone through, and if there’s a chance that she can redeem any of them she’ll take it. Due to her own experiances she’s 100% sure that he isn’t hearing God. She wants him to realize that and make steps to heal not only the county but him and his siblings as well.

9. Feelings about the other Seeds?

She also feels a lot of empathy for the other Seeds as well and wants to help them, in a way, atone for what they’re doing. She has already decided that she isn’t going to kill them to liberate the regions.Her parents taught her that you should always try to help even the ones who seems the worst, as they’re usually the ones that need it the most. She feels for them but she also won’t take shit either. She feels most strongly against Jacob and his “cull the weak” mentality, since it’s directly opposite what she was raised on.

10. How did they handle having to kill animals and other humans? Had they done it before?

She has had to kill people before as part of the organization, mostly as assassinations. She doesn’t like it but she is very good at it. She has a harder time with animals because she wasn’t taught how to deal with them. She got a crash course from Dutch when she got to Hope County but she’s still not as confident or comfortable killing them. She views animals as “innocents” that have no ill intentions to her and are just going with their instincts, except for turkeys, she hates turkeys.

11. Which canon ending did they choose in-game, and would you have changed the ending at all?

She’s going to do what she can to change the ending, but in game she would have chosen the resist ending.

1. Favorite weapon(s)?

Combat knife, hand gun, bow and smoke bombs. She can use rifles but she isn’t as good with them.

2. Stealth or firepower?

Stealth all the way. Until she gets spotted and then its full on Black Widow at the end of IM2 rampage.

3. How did they spend their time, when not fighting peggies?

When she’s not fighting peggies she’s working with Dutch to make a bunker for the resistance, just in case.

4. Where did they live during the events of the game?

She moves between living in Falls End and popping down to Dutch.

5. Any other facts you want to share about your Deputy!

She loved watching action and spy movies with Dutch while they heckled all the mistakes before all the shit hit the fan.

She spent so much of her time as a teenager training to join the org that she never really dated, so she’s a virgin. She’s not really bothered by this.

She has a long jagged scar on her chest, right in the middle between her breasts that goes from just above her boobs to the top part of her sternum from her time with the serial killer.

She and Dutch refer to her handler as her “Uncle” who sent her to “family friend” Dutch when her parents died.

Her parents both died in a car accident when she was 20.

Dutch and the killer were both in the org at the same time. Dutch hated him with a burning passion for no reason he could pinpoint, as such the killer is terrified of Dutch. This is why her handler sent her to Dutch.

[ivadeshin]

Five Soda Maximum (High School AU) pt 15

(need to start from the beginning?)

“What do they do in Germany for dates?”

Caleb laughs and opens a bag of chips. “I would not know.”

“C’mon.” Molly’s tail flicks behind him, amused. Caleb shrugs and tries to think.

“Same thing as Americans, I guess. Kids go to movies. Adults go to restaurants with the lights at... hmm. Medium lights?”

“With the lights dimmed?”

Caleb nods. “With the lights dimmed.”

“And a single tea light in the middle of the table,” Molly adds in a serious hush, pretending to cup his hands around a tiny candle between them. “To roast... your tiny fancy restaurant marshmallows on.”

Caleb snorts. “On toothpicks?”

“Yeah,” Molly agrees. “You could use the ones that come in hot chocolate mix.”

“Nein, those are... too hard, they are like sugary American cereal pieces. What is that brand Jester tried to - oh, Lucky Charms. Those are not marshmallows!”

“They’re... marshmallow... inspired?” Molly pulls out something wrapped in foil, and it turns out to be half a meatball sub. Caleb makes an interested sound, tugging the bag toward him and rummaging for the other half. “Is your stomach thing getting better?”

Caleb feels a mild rush of embarrassment, but it’s more minor than it would have been several weeks ago. The entire group seems to have settled on offering to share what food they’ve got, happy when he eats full portions and not pressuring him when he can’t. It’s a lot less confrontational than what he gets at home, and he feels a little silly for expecting outsiders to treat him the same as his parents. “Yes,” he says honestly. “I think um, just unpacking... knowing my school schedule... understanding more English...”

“Being settled,” Molly finishes for him. Caleb nods.

“Yes, good word. Settled.”

“Is it that new things, um, stress you out, or was it specifically moving from Germany to here?”

“Much more the second thing.” Caleb tucks some hair behind his ear, taking a deep breath and looking around a little. He can smell faint tobacco smoke from the alley they went in - it seems like the employees take their breaks there instead of up here, and so it’s unsurprising that they haven’t seen anyone else come up. That’s probably why Molly picked it.

“Did you move for work?”

Caleb blinks, a little too lost in thought to make sense of the question.

Molly shrugs. “I mean, your dad, or your mom, did they have to move here for a job.”

“No.” Caleb laughs softly. “Their jobs here are... are not better, I think they are, they, they are much worse, actually.” He unwraps his sub and takes a few bites.

“I’m not making the best conversation to get you hungry, am I.” Molly rubs his horn and looks away.

Caleb wants little more in life than to keep Molly from being sad. “S’ok,” he says around a mouthful of meatball. “Did... you... mag...dese?”

Molly laughs. “Yeah, my own secret recipe. I wanted us to have some hot food but I can’t make much.”

Caleb shakes his head and makes a thumbs up sign, glowering at his thumb when he sees that it’s already got a streak of red sauce on it.

“Oh! Here, hold on.” Molly sorts through the bag, pulling out a large plastic chip clip that’s holding on to a small stack of paper napkins. He pulls a couple out and then sets the clip on the table between them. Caleb’s just finished cleaning himself up when his phone chirps.

Nott (green fist emoji): sup

Caleb grins at his phone. “I am going to take a picture and send it to Nott,” he says, and stands up to take a top-down photo of the items spread out on the table. Molly starts to lean back, getting his folded arms out of the shot. “No, it is okay, you are part of the...” Caleb blushes and Molly laughs, leaning in further and crossing his eyes at the camera lens. Caleb takes the picture.

“We should take a selfie later,” Molly is saying, as Caleb clicks through the options to send the attachment to Nott. “My Facebook profile picture is super old.” He stops when Caleb freezes. “Friends take selfies together here, guy friends, it’s-”

“I cannot go on Facebook,” Caleb says too quickly. “I mean, I can. I can look at it but I cannot, no pictures.”

Molly blinks. “Even if I don’t tag you?”

Caleb shakes his head quickly. “I’m sorry, it’s, it’s complicated.”

“How would your parents even know? I’m not trying to be an asshole, I just...” Molly gestures with the remains of his sandwich. “You filled out that form to not be in the yearbook, and it’s like, there are parts of it I don’t get, I guess.”

“Those two things are not about my parents, exactly.” Caleb looks down at his sub, sitting up a little straighter and making himself finish it before he says anything else that’s going to send him into stomach cramps. He’s almost done when he realizes Molly hasn’t said anything, is waiting on him, aware that there’s more. “I cannot have my face show up on the internet. Neither can my parents. We came to America because we could not hide well in Germany.”

Molly’s voice gets quiet. “Are you serious?”

“Yes.” Caleb crumples up his tinfoil very carefully, turning the corners inward and then the corners made by that, over and over. “It is not, we are not terrorists or something. The German government is not mad at us.”

Molly doesn’t say anything.

“It is hard to explain and I have not told anyone yet. I do not want people to know. I had to... there is a queue you must wait in, they decide if you can m-move to the U.S. and we had to go quickly so, so I made up, I.” Caleb takes in a shuddering breath and realizes he’s trembling a little. He tries to complete the sentence, but his mouth opens and nothing comes out. The table shifts a little as Molly gets up, and Caleb looks up and sees Molly rushing around the side to scoot in next to him, grabbing his hand on the table and squeezing it.

“Are you having a panic attack?”

“I do not know,” Caleb says, and laughs a little desperately. “I am sorry... this... it is all very...”

Molly shakes his head several times, then tilts his head so his left horn is resting gently against Caleb’s right temple. “Um. I can’t remember anything from before I was fourteen.”

Caleb inhales slowly. “A... again, please?”

“I can’t remember anything from my life from before I was fourteen. I only remember things from age fourteen to now.” Molly’s face isn’t visible to Caleb right now, but he sounds like he’s smiling and also like he’s kind of hurt. “Does that help? I’m not trying to one-up you, I’m just. Trying to make sure you don’t feel weird.”

That certainly wasn’t what Caleb was expecting to hear. “You... hit your head? Something hit your head?”

“No.” Molly’s thumb strokes over his fingers in slow, gentle sweeps. “They did a bunch of scans because that’s what everyone figured, but there was no, you know, internal swelling, or skull damage, or any brain damage...”

“Are you sick?” Caleb sounds about as scared as he feels.

“No, there’s no reason to think so.” Molly pulls back and frowns at Caleb’s expression “I think I scared you worse. Shit.” He laughs and shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I kind of panicked.”

“But that is real, what you said.”

“Yeah, it’s really real. I don’t remember anything. They think it might be psychological but that’s, like, impossible to rule out, so it’s always on the table? If that makes sense?”

Caleb tries to reach into his mind, searching for what he knows about memories and brains and... “Trauma, sometimes it gets locked up and you cannot ... think of it?”

“Yeah.” Molly shrugs. “Like, to be fair, I was in a city famous for runaways and gay homeless kids who got one-way tickets from their families, so if something awful happened to me, I was in good company.”

“I’m sorry, one-way tickets, I do not understand.”

“Like, if your shitty family finds out you’re gay, they give you a one-way ticket to a big city and tell you to never come back...” Molly nods at Caleb’s disgusted expression. “Yeah.”

“That is awful.” Caleb tries to imagine this. “My parents would never...”

“Yeah, mine maybe did.” Molly shrugs. “Or maybe they were great and died! Or, I don’t know.”

“What,” Caleb tries to digest this. “What is your first memory?”

“Like, a haze of a few days where I was lost and trying to find a familiar street, and then I gave up on that and begged, but that wasn’t getting me much money...” Molly peeks up, maybe gauging Caleb’s reaction so far. “Some, um, some working girls found me... wandering around lost, so they sort of adopted me.”

“--what?”

“They were like, ‘You’re a kid! It’s not safe out here!’ They yelled at me and told me I was a fucking idiot and I could get hurt and... and they took me to a Waffle House and bought me like all the food I could eat.” Molly sniffs. Caleb watches his face, the sad sort of calmness of it. “I stayed on one of their couches for a few weeks. I hung out with them a lot and one day they got busted and, um, and the cops thought I was, you know...”

“...also working?”

“Yeah.” Molly laughs. “I busked, sure. Other than that I was in their apartment. One of them had been making me watch educational tv to make up for the fact that I wasn’t going to school. Like... yeah.”

“Did you get arrested?”

“At first? Sort of? They couldn’t process me because I didn’t have any ID or anything, and the cops, um, were mostly human, it was one of the tiefling girls that finally convinced them I was a young kid, and they did some blood test and were like, ‘oh, shit, you’re a minor’, and then my case changed departments like seven times... finally most of the girls got out by giving up dealers’ names and I went into the foster system.”

Caleb frowns. “So your name is...”

“Made up.” Molly shrugs. “The girls called me ‘Empty Stomach’, and then just ‘Empty’, and that sort of sounded like ‘M.T.’, and so by the time the sting happened I was M.T. It’s sort of dumb.”

“It is not dumb.” Caleb turns his hand awkwardly under Molly’s, wrapping his fingers around Molly’s hand and squeezing it. “I like it a lot.”

Molly snorts and ducks his head a little further. Caleb doubles down, switching his left hand to hold Molly’s so he can reach out with his right hand, initiating a hug across the other boy’s shoulders.

“Do you ever remember more pieces? Or is it just... not there?”

“Just not there.” Molly pulls his hand free, standing up - but it’s only to pull his food to this side of the table, so he can resume eating without moving away. Caleb smiles. “My memory of things now is pretty normal. There’s just, you know, nothing before a certain time.”

Caleb ruminates over this for a while, taking a drink from his water bottle. “Do other people know?”

“Gustav knows. Yasha knows. Tova knows. Bosun and the twins don’t.”

Caleb nods. “I will not say.”

“It’s not bad, I’m not embarrassed, it’s just... weird.” Molly shrugs. “Like yours, I guess.” When Caleb laughs hollowly, Molly hesitates. “Yours... is bad?”

“Remember the ‘huge mistake?’”

Molly frowns. “That you texted about? It’s that? You did -  what the hell could you have done to make your family have to move?” He pales a little and goes quiet. “Did you kill somebody by accident?”

“What!? No.” Caleb slouches on the bench. “I... my friends, we liked computers, and... we thought we were, you know, big shots.” They were so stupid, Caleb thinks. They were kids. “We had, you know, a computer club at school, we would use proxies and do whatever we wanted... we got dark web browsers and decided we would take down one of the little empires on there. They sold, um, very awful videos. And we tricked them and got some information on some of ... of the people who made the videos, and leaked it to the police. They were busted. Nobody...”

“You were like internet super heroes?”

“No!” Caleb hits the table, making it reverberate. “We were idiots. We could have died. They were criminals and they did not care, and, and, and they, they did not all, they were not all there, they were all in different countries. So some were arrested, the rest were very mad... they traced us, they started calling our houses, watching us on security cameras, they wanted us to pay.”

“Holy shit.”

“We had to tell our parents what we did. Local police could not do anything, these men were in other countries, using spoof phone numbers, hiring...” Caleb buries his face in his arms and shakes.

“Caleb.” Molly’s hand is light between his shoulder blades. Caleb tries to take full breaths, but he can’t, so he just gasps for air as quietly as possible, over and over, until he feels an insistent swatting feeling on his thigh. When he moves his arms to see, it’s Molly’s tail, giving him the gentle little friendly smacks like during their lunches. In spite of himself, Caleb chokes out a brief laugh, and Molly tilts into him and covers his body with his.

“I do, I do not think I make much sense,” Caleb mumbles into Molly’s shirt.

“You tried to stop some shitty people and they tried to get back at you?”

“Yes.”

“And they wouldn’t stop and the cops wouldn’t help?”

“Yes.” Caleb hiccups. “They said they would poison my friend’s family. And burn my house down. They had plans for all three of us.”

Molly holds him tighter.

“I am sorry I am a big mess.” Caleb can feel the perspiration covering his skin getting Molly’s shirt damp. “I think maybe I am not good for dating.”

Molly is still for a moment, then tucks his head in carefully, pressing his lips to a spot on Caleb’s neck. “We’ll just have to keep trying until we’ve both run out of crazy fucking stories.”